It was the kind of day that always makes me thankful I live in the deep South: searing sun shining through humid haze, and it was only May. We'd likely be enjoying this kind of weather almost until October, and though some find our long southern summers rather oppressive, for me, the hotter it is, the more I love it.
This prematurely summer-like Saturday came to us as a pleasant surprise, and I was excited that Tim had insisted we enjoy the afternoon together at Goose Creek Park, an idyllic sprawling nature preserve with miles of trails and streams, a few small lakes and several broad, grassy fields, ideal for picnicking. It's always been one of our favorite spots, and after the fun we had together on that particular gorgeous spring day, it would become even more so.
"Wear the yellow sundress," he said resolutely when he called me that morning as he was leaving his weekly Saturday tennis match to announce our plans. "No bra, of course," he added.
"Of course," I giggled back.
This was not an unfamiliar request coming from my husband. He loves to have me put my ample breasts and pert nipples on display for him, and I gladly oblige because it reminds me that he finds me sexy and attractive. Though we've only been married a little over a year, and I know I don't have to dress for him to keep him interested, I like seeing the sparkle in his eye when he knows I've picked a cleavage-revealing top just for him, or a shorter skirt than I'd normally wear, just because I know he loves my legs. I do it for both of us.
I was in the kitchen, wearing the revealing little sundress he'd prescribed, packing our picnic lunch when he arrived home still sweaty and manly from his tennis match. He knows how my animal instincts are stirred when he's in this state, and he took full advantage. He peeled off his damp tennis shirt, revealing his muscular chest and taut abs, and drew me into his strong arms. I melted into him and wrapped my arms around his waist as his earthy aroma intoxicated me.
"You look so damn hot in that dress, Tina," he growled.
"I'm glad you like it," I demurred.
"One minor adjustment is needed, though," he said stepping back and drinking all of me in with his eyes. I looked down, thinking that maybe he wanted the laces in front loosened to show a bit more cleavage. My hands went to untie the bow between my breasts, but his hands stopped me.
"Oh, not that," he explained, pulling my hand aside. "Lift your dress, please."
I hiked up the full skirts of the dress, revealing my legs for him, practically all the way up. I guessed at this point that he was checking to see if I'd kept my legs shaved all the way to my bikini line as he likes me to do, which I had.
"Higher," he insisted.
Obviously it wasn't shaved legs he was after. I pulled the dress all the way up to my waist, revealing the tiny white g-string style panties I was wearing. Maybe he wanted to approve of my panty selection for the day, which he often influenced. I was certain he'd like my choice.
"Very sexy, nice ones," he said lustily. "But take them off. I forgot to tell you to skip the panties too when I called. I want you very accessible today."
Too flustered to protest, I simply slipped the tiny panties off over the sexy little strappy white sandals I had on and handed them to him. He took them from me and headed off to shower and dress while I finished preparing our lunch, all the while daydreaming about what exactly my being "very accessible" might lead to.
- - - - - - -
Other than a few lecherous looks from Tim, our park outing proceeded rather innocently for most of the afternoon. There was definitely an air of sexual tension between us all day, betrayed by the instant intensity of the few kisses we shared during our long walk around the largest of the park's lakes. Still, given his lack of blatantly sexual attention during our secluded hike, it wasn't clear at all to me what the whole accessibility thing was about, at least not until after the little nap we had after our picnic.
I awoke to the tug of the strings on the bodice of my sundress. I lifted my head off of Tim's stomach, where I'd been sleeping, and looked up at him inquisitively. He simply smiled and kept working intentionally at the laces. I nervously scanned the big field where we lay for potential onlookers. There was only a small group of four guys tossing a Frisbee at the far end of the field from where our blanket was, several hundred yards away.
I squawked and squirmed a little in semi-protest when I felt his large warm hand slip into my top, firmly cupping my right breast.
"No one can see us way over here," he assured me.
It was probably true, and though I knew there were trails entering the field from all sides that could bring a surprise intruder at any moment, I was still only half awake at this point. Besides, it was feeling rather nice, and the more his hand caressed me, the more meager my protests became. For not only are my womanly mounds prized for the viewing pleasure they afford him, he knows that the slightest touch of them turns me into a quivering puddle of eager desire. Despite my drowsy state, already I was well on my way there.
I rolled from my back onto my side, my head still on his stomach, thus putting my back to the Frisbee players. Tim's wickedly amused smile told me that he was thoroughly enjoying pushing my boundaries, coaxing me into this tiny bit of exhibitionism. All the previous times we'd gotten frisky in the great outdoors, the risk of discovery was remote, and more to fuel the naughty fantasy of public indecency. We'd actually been fairly careful to ensure seclusion, but it was clearly going to be different this time.
"You like putting me on display like this don't you?" I cooed.
"You're not on display," he feigned protest. "I hardly think having my hand in your shirt qualifies as exhibitionism. Besides, I think you like the idea of a little public display."
I played along with his pretense, and faked offense at the insinuation. "What kind of girl do you think I am?"
"The kind of girl that struts around the park in a skimpy little sundress without a bra or panties on," he kidded.
"Well, that's different. You made me do it. I would have never thought to do such a thing, and you're a naughty boy to make me." I giggled slightly, dropping out of character momentarily.
"Make you? Hah! You pulled your panties off without a word of protest or so much as a comment. Admit it, you've got some definite exhibitionist tendencies."
"Would have done me any good to argue?"
"Well, no, I suppose not."
"See. Like I said, you made me."
Tim withdrew his hand from my shirt, where he'd been squeezing and tweaking my nipple throughout our discussion, and slipped it up my dress, placing it firmly between to my upper thighs.
"We'll settle this right now. Spread your legs," he insisted.
I clamped my thighs together tightly. I knew what he was after, and I knew what he would find. I was wet, and we both knew it.
"Spread them for me, Tina. I want to show you what a naughty little exhibitionist you are." He pushed his fingers closer to my sex.
"I'm not either!" I complained, still clamping my thighs against his intrusion.
"Then prove it. Let me see."
I knew resistance was ultimately going to prove futile, so I relaxed my thighs just enough to allow his fingers to reach their goal. I knew from how easily they entered me that I was already undeniably wet and swollen with excitement. But I wasn't sure whether I was more turned on by his hand playing with my breast or the public location.
"See," he said. "You like playing out here where anyone might see us."
Even though I knew what he was doing, he was causing me to doubt myself. "I don't either." I didn't sound very convincing, even to me.
With two fingers still stroking my inner walls, Tim brushed his thumb lightly against the hood of my clitoris. I moaned deeply. Damn, he's good. He knows how to play my body like an instrument.
"Please. Someone might see us." My weak words of protest didn't match my lusty tone of voice. Was I saying please stop or please keep going? I didn't really even know myself.
While the fingers of one hand played on in my nether region, with the other he drew my face to his and kissed me deeply. I was caught up in a swirl of emotions: strong desire both fueled and fought by fear. I felt myself slipping into the headspace where nothing exists except our two bodies, where I'll do anything to satisfy my husband's wishes. He brings me there often, just not usually in the middle of an open field.
In a desperate attempt to regain my senses, I broke off the kiss and pushed his hand from between my thighs. "Tim, please," I pleaded breathlessly. "We shouldn't do this here. I want you. I want you desperately, but let's take it back in the woods."
"Silly girl," Tim teased, "Did you think I was going to do you right here?"
"Well, I just figured..."
