The Picnic

It's a warm spring evening on the beach. Not a sun-bleached, golden California strand, but a mottled grey Pacific Northwest beach—the silvery sand is mixed with galaxies of small rocks and stones, polished round and smooth by countless years of tumbling in the sleepless cold water. Large driftwood logs, stranded at some long-past high tide, form a palisade between the dark, humid forest and the glittery, restless ocean, a haphazard fortress defining the frontier between land and sea, reality and fantasy, the known and the unknown.

We are here in this no-man's land, she and I, between earth and water. The beach is neither land nor sea; a neutral zone, uninhabited but for the transient, the nomadic, the lost—where the limits of land end, and the unfathomable promise of the sea begins.

We walk silently, close but not touching, not daring to look at one another. Our unvoiced fiction of "just a friendly picnic" seems childish and un-necessary; we both know why we have come to this place. The sand along the tideline is soft and yielding under our feet, our footsteps filling with water and then dissolving with the next wave. Our passing will leave no trace.

At last the right setting appears; a giant log offers a private haven out of the light breeze and safe from the sight of anyone who may trespass in our uncharted province. She busily forages in the bags of food while I spread the rough wool blanket and anchor the corners with rocks. Our eyes meet. Hers are brown and large and deep, the colour of loam; mine as grey-green as the heavy surf offshore. She licks her lips nervously as she lays out our picnic. Wine is drunk; hard cheeses and crusty bread, grapes and apples make their appearance. Light, aimless conversation progresses to a shared joke, small confidences, conspiratorial admissions.

I take up a fat crimson strawberry coated in bitter chocolate, and shoot a sideways look at her. She smiles, just a slight dimpling at first, then broadening into a white smile, made all the brighter by contrast with the slight flush of her cheeks. Slowly I bring the ripe red strawberry to her lips, pulling it back as she opens her mouth to bite it, and gently stroke her lips with the now-melting chocolate. Laughing, she lunges forward, and takes a bite, juice squirting out of the ripe fruit, running down her chin. Gently I tilt her head back, and follow the track of the sticky sweetness down her neck with the tip of my tongue. The spicy fragrance of her perfume mingles with the scent of the strawberry juice. A sigh, and her breasts rise, pushing against her demure blouse.

I run the underside of my tongue over her lips, still stained dark with the chocolate, its rich, bitter flavour filling my mouth. Our lips touch, and her mouth opens slightly. My tongue traces the edge of her teeth, rising and falling with the now-rhythmic tempo of her breathing. My fingers run through her shoulder-length tawny hair as I gently pull her towards me.

I feel the heave of her breasts through our clothes. Her eyes are shut as we continue to kiss, our tongues interlaced, teeth brushing lips, then taking small, tentative nips. Strawberries are forgotten as we braid ourselves together on the blanket, pulling each other closer, the ferocity of our kissing increasing, our breath coming in gasps between caresses. I break away from her mouth, brushing my warm, wet lips along her now-hot cheek. The tip of my tongue traces the delicate ridges of her ear, bringing a convulsion of delight. The scent of her hair fills my nostrils; her earring clacks against my teeth as I gingerly nibble the lobe of her ear.

We are entangled in arms and legs; the heat of her body now urgent, pressing against my swelling cock, throwing her leg over mine and pulling me closer. Her blouse is taut against her fleshy breasts, the bulge of her hardening nipples visible through the taut fabric. I run my hand along the rough denim of her thigh, up over the curve of her waist and trace her breast with my fingertips. Opening the first two buttons, I move my head down to the exposed vee of pale skin, and gently kiss the top of her cleavage repeatedly, stopping to run my tongue up along her neck to her mouth and her full lips.

Her hands pull my shirt out of the back of my pants, and I feel the rasp of her nails on my lower back as she runs her hands up my spine. I want to feel her burning nakedness against me, feel her hard nipples against my bare chest, and I undo two more of her buttons, revealing a sheer purple lace bra, pulled tight against her round breasts, rippling with each jostle from my fumbling hands as I pull and tug at the front closure. It opens, and the cups of her bra jerk back suddenly, revealing her plump breasts, her erect nipples dark against their pale background. I gently nuzzle her rosy budding nipples with my tongue and my lips, then very gently brush my teeth across them.

Sliding my hand along her tummy, I reach for the buckle on her belt. Her hands are quick to help with the unfamiliar clasp, and the button on her jeans pops open easily to my touch. I run my hand along the top ridge of her panties under the open jeans, slowly moving deeper and farther down the curve of her stomach. I lean forward and kiss her bellybutton, then tickle it with my tongue. As she giggles, I sit up and take hold of her open jeans by the pockets. As I pull, she raises her midriff to allow the pants to slide down, revealing her tight purple lace panties. Throwing the jeans to one side, I lower myself over her and continue to kiss my way down from her bellybutton. My tongue feels the texture of the lace as I kiss and lick her panties; I can feel her heat on my face, the scent of her excitement makes my cock throb inside my pants. As I gently push her legs apart, I can see that the crotch of her panties is visibly wet, clinging to her pussy lips, their outline clear and defined through the fine fabric. I gently tongue the outside of her panties, feeling the ridges of her pussy lips, her perfume filling my nostrils. Suddenly I can't wait anymore; reaching up, I pull hard on the waistband of the panties at her hip, yanking them down partway; she pulls the other side, wriggling and breathing hard, and finally they are down to her knees. Raising her leg, I pull them off.

Her public hair brushes my face roughly as I push my face into the humid slit of her pussy, my tongue tracing the outline of her swollen lips. Her taste is salty and pungent, the musk rising from her glistening cunt until it's all I can smell and taste. Ever so softly, I trace the bud of her clit with my tongue, pressing down around it, and making little circles, coming ever closer, but not touching it. I glance up, and see that her head is thrown back, moving rhythmically from side to side with the motion of my tongue and lips; her hands are squeezing tight on her breasts, while her long hard nipples are between her fingers, popping up in between each one with each stroke of her hands. I slide my tongue down her slippery lips, and into her pussy. Her back arches up, and I gently suck her now-sodden cunt as she moans softly.

I slide back up to suck gently and blow on her clit, her head movements and moaning increase; suddenly, she grabs my hair, and pulls me up out of her steamy cunt, and towards her face. I rise on one arm, and her tongue finds my chin and lips, licking and sucking her own funky juices from my face. She pushes me by one shoulder, on to my back, and pulls my shirt up. I raise my arms and she tears it off, impatient and greedy. I undo my belt, and raise my pelvis as she yanks and tugs on my pants. My cock pushes through the fly in my boxers, the head glistening with pre-cum, wobbling in the evening air. She brings her mouth gently over the head of my cock. Enveloping it in a warm satin-smooth cocoon, her tongue slips over the groove of the head, shooting tingles of pleasure through me.

She pulls on my boxers, and I help slide them down, pulling one leg free; she sucks my balls, her tongue gently feeling the roundness of each testicle, then slipping back over my cock, now throbbing visibly with each beat of my pulse. Her hand squeezes the base, then slides up the shaft, her saliva and my pre-cum lubricating the movement. I feel as if I am ready to burst, giving little grunts and snarls as she teases.

Suddenly, she's up on her knees, then throws one leg over my pelvis, and with her hand guides my cock to her pussy lips as she lowers her body; but it's only to tease, as she rubs her wet cunt and lips with the head of my cock. The heat of her cunt is driving me crazy; I thrust up with my crotch, but she just laughs and dodges, then continues to use my hard cock as her sex toy, rubbing it against her clit. I'm moaning softly, hands digging into the sand, when she suddenly slides down, allowing her weight to push my cock deep into her wet cunt.

Electric shocks seem to run through me; it feels like a thousand velvet tongues are caressing my cock. I open my eyes to watch her breasts swing with her movements, and she reaches out for my hands to support her as she starts to ride me. I can feel her hot cunt juice trickling down over my balls as she grinds her pelvis into me, and I hear the rhythmic wet slapping as she fucks me hard. Her eyes are closed now, turned skyward, breasts jumping up and down with each stroke; she is leaning forward, grinding her clit into my pubic bone.

We're both growling and making animal noises in time with her thrusting; my tone rises as I start to feel the beginning tingle of orgasm; sensing this, she returns to grinding her clit into me, and her breath starts to come in small sobs. I know I can't last much longer—her cunt is too hot and wet, and she's fucking me hard—and I feel the first waves of orgasm start to pass through my body, from the soles of my feet, through my thighs, into my chest, and then it's as if every nerve in my body is linked directly to the head of my cock as I explode; jets of razor-edged pleasure rip through me as I come inside her; I'm half-grunting, half howling, and my nails are digging into her thighs as my cock jerks spasmodically, shooting spurts of hot cum into her already-soaking cunt. She's not quite to orgasm, and continues to ride, pumping even faster and giving little yips; I writhe underneath, crossing the edge of pleasure and pain repeatedly as she continues to fuck my now hypersensitive cock. Just as I have to yell out in pain, she shudders and moans; her rhythmic thumping is replaced by a disjointed trembling, and she falls forward to put her full weight on my chest, as we both gasp for air and feel sweat rolling off our bodies in the now-chilly night air.

The moon shines down on the endless sea, forever caressing and shaping the shore; an endless, timeless coupling of earth and water. By midnight, the rising tide has obliterated all trace of our temporary occupation of no-man's-land; the zone between land and sea is once again dark, empty and unknown. She has returned to her world, and I to mine.