It was mid morning by the time we had arrived at the State Natural Reserve. It's quite common to hear people refer to that area mistakenly as a State Park. The reserve itself shares boundaries with two marine parks, one also a reserve, and the other a conservation area. It's just one of several favored places along the coast that we've enjoyed. Although our schedules don't easily allow, we do try and schedule return visits since moving away.
We knew the trail system and coastline well, and preferred the lesser travelled routes. At times we'd elect to leave the main trails and follow what appeared as little more than game trails, likely used by resident black-tailed deer, coyote, gray fox, bobcat... The wildlife there goes mostly unseen. The sheer number of species of land animals, let alone the more abundant bird and marine life present, would easily surprise most. As is likely true with most celebrated outdoor areas, the casual visitors see but a mere fraction of what's present.
In such areas, people tend to move too quickly, and generate too much noise. A whole world is waiting to open up to those who learn to recognize the transition zones. These zones are essentially the "seams", the edges. Examples are the boundaries from forest to meadow, in a mountain stream it's from fast water to slower water, in the air you can watch a soaring hawk move in and out of the thermal seams. It also applies to the time of day, from night to dawn. There are reasons why animals favor these areas and times.
At that time of year, and being mid week, the parking area had only a few vehicles. It turned out that we had the reserve mostly to ourselves. The other visitors were likely nature photographers, birders and, given that half of the three combined areas are underwater, scuba divers.
The familiar fresh scent of the ocean was welcome. We could just barely make out the sound of waves finishing their journey on the beach or colliding against the craggy granite cliffs. The fog there characteristically clears by late morning. The color of the water would then change dramatically from a dull dark gray to the bright blue and foaming white that is often featured in photos and paintings of the area.
We had just finished gathering our daypacks when another vehicle pulled in a few spots away. At a glance they looked to be college students, a guy and a girl, maybe nineteen years old, twenty most. They weren't shy at all, and offered a spirited "Good Morning." They turned out to be quite talkative. They inquired about the trails, which ones went to the beach area, which ones stayed inland, and which areas a must-see. We found them to be fun to talk to, full of energy, refreshing.
I guess one would say that they were average looking, whatever that means. Neither of them appeared to be athletic, more studious looking, somewhat pale. She was quite feminine, her complexion made me think of the phrase "squeaky clean." Their enthusiasm was somewhat contagious, that was nice, they had already added to our day. They seemed somewhat innocent, fresh, a natural sincerity about them. It came to mind that they may have recently met. Perhaps it was the manner in which they interacted, not being totally at ease with each other, and directing a lot of attention to us. Was it a first date perhaps? Or maybe it was a first "outing" as a couple, no other friends or acquaintances around to add comfort?
We were happy to get them oriented. As we headed out, I offered that we'd be hiking through an open meadow-like area and then into the coastal forest. Later, we'd continue to the beach and cliffs after the morning fog lifted. I added that they'd be able to see us ahead, and were welcome to follow if they wanted since we'd be visiting some of the more dramatic areas of the reserve.
As I was staying that, I could see out of the corner of my eye that Claire had turned to look at me and smiled. Once out of earshot, she asked me if I had offered for them to follow out of courtesy, or did I have something else in mind. I replied with only with a smile. Actually, it was out of courtesy but her comment brought something to mind.
We never looked directly back at them, but with peripheral vision we could see them about one hundred yards behind and following. Once we passed though the meadow, and entered the coastal forest, we slowed our pace giving them a chance to keep us in sight. Without words passing between us we knew that each had begun to experience the beginnings of that wonderful faint sense of pleasure that precedes sensuality.
About a quarter mile into the pine and cypress forest, I turned and made contact with our followers. I waved my hands and pointed in the direction of a smaller trail branching off deeper into the forest. They signaled back, acknowledging the change in direction. Both Claire and I looked at each other, our hearts beating a bit faster, the beginnings of arousal gently swept through us.
We moved more quickly now that we were out of sight, and found one of our familiar, and somewhat secret, spots. The undergrowth here was lush with large ferns and a blanket of low, soft, bright green Spring Grass, which would become our bed. Shafts of light were beginning to break through the fog-wrapped forest. With the mature pines and cypress it had the feel of a primeval forest, dark but not too dark, almost fairytale-like. In the past we had spent hours at this very spot, reading, napping, enjoying nature, sharing...
Our packs were dropped, and we shed our clothes quickly. I had already become partially erect with anticipation, and knew that Claire would be moist. She spoke first, "how about I lean against that tree?" Yeah, I liked that idea. Our hopes were that when the young couple made the last turn in the pathway, and we came into view, that they would stop suddenly in their tracks. We wanted them to be speechless, mesmerized, somewhat frozen in time.
I recall the feeling as being a blend of lost in our selves, plus the excitement of perhaps being watched. We would know in an instant when they saw us whether we'd be sharing our intimacy with others or be left alone. Either way we'd enjoy the moment. When we are both in the mood to let someone watch, then it does feel special in itself, not better, just different. It's not often that we both are in that "mood" at the same time. It's nice though when it happens, adds another dimension to our sexuality.
Claire had positioned herself so that she would be facing in their approaching direction. She held her arms stretched out against the trunk of a wind-sculpted cypress as if crucified in ecstasy. That image, her against that tree, in that lighting, still comes to me at times. We didn't have the time for extended foreplay as preferred. I knelt before her, held her hips and began to suck on her clit. Pulling on it with my lips, nibbling on it until she would offer a faint squeal. I explored all of her textures, some slippery smooth, others of intricate folds. Her taste was clean and exotic. Claire's soft, lean, nude body, pale olive skin tone, the weathered textured gray bark, the lush greens of the undergrowth... it would have made a great photograph. Our idea of nature photography is different than that of the photographers that roamed the reserve.
"They're here" was all she had whispered. A long thirty seconds passed, and then "they're going to stay."
Claire shared that they were partially concealed behind a large fern at the last bend in the pathway. Likely they had felt that we weren't aware of their presence. They were close enough to see all that took place, but couldn't hear anything above a whisper. It was perfect.
I can only imagine that not a word was passed between them. They must have been silent, their hearts racing, and their bodies transitioning to a state of arousal. If I was correct in my assessment of them at the parking lot, then they probably hadn't ever touched each other. His cock had to be growing and her sweet young pussy would have begun to soak her panties.
Claire lowered her arms and held my head, pulling my face further into her pussy. She slowly lifted and bent one leg and moved it outward; so that I could just reach her opening and begin to tongue fuck her. Her clit was already fully swollen and peeking through the lips of her tender pussy. My mouth and chin were glistening wet with her nectar. Every woman has her own special scent, and taste, all to be enjoyed. There are many pleasures to be experienced on the path to an orgasm. I feel that most people miss those moments. I'll take that thought one step further, it can be as satisfying to taste and feel your partner climax, as it is to climax yourself.
She released her hands as I pulled away. I stood, and faced sideways so that they could see the length of my hard cock, which was pointing nearly straight up. Claire knelt before me, and then reached in to caress my cum-filled balls, gently rolling them in her hands. Her touch is always so light and soft. It's almost as if I was dreaming of being fondled, it's perfect, and it's teasing. Pre-cum had started to run down my shaft and onto her delicate fingers.
As we continued our performance, we silently wondered what was going through their minds. Could they possibly have resisted having sex after watching?
I can still remember the feeling when the head of my cock entered Claire's warm, wet, soft mouth. That initial contact is such a high point of pleasure. It's a slightly different sensation than entering her pussy. Both are soft, warm and wet, yet different. It's but a mere second in time that needs to be savored. Not just savored, but also sharing with your partner the pleasure that they bring.
