Yet Steve did nothing more than slide his penis against her: and even that could have been accidental. They were on the bed together as close as could be and given how men's penises stuck out and how big they were touching was inevitable. He did not, though, get up on her and insert himself, easy as it would have been to do with her thighs so spread and all that slippery lotion and sexual lubrication in and around her quim.
Penelope was sure Steve was getting quite a thrill from being there naked on the bed with her and being free to fondle and lubricate but equally he was being so good about looking after her. It was so unexpected, she had not thought him the caring sort. Perhaps she had his character all wrong.
No doubt Steve was indeed getting a thrill, but was that so wrong given how much he was doing for her? It seemed sort of wrong, rather unfair on him, not to have more. Should she suck him off? He would like that - men did. It would be a fair exchange for how he had soothed her body and then made her feel so good. The thought of his cock in her mouth was exciting. Again she opened her mouth in the dark making the movements with her lips and tongue as if she was really fellating a penis, safe in the knowledge he could not see her in the dark. She did not do that but, instead, reached out and touched Steve, seeking his penis. It was, of course, in the usual place - on a man - and she grabbed and wanked it. It was a mixture of wanting to pleasure and thank Steve coupled with a need to stop her sucking or fucking it. Those ideas were so tempting in her state.
Penelope could feel another orgasm building. He was finger fucking her doing, no doubt, what he really wanted to be doing with his penis. Penelope was out of control, her head was going from side to side as her orgasm came and as her hand worked the cock at speed. It too proved out of control. There was no aiming by Penelope, no thought about when and where it might 'go off' - come. Her hand was not directing it, not sending it carefully onto Steve's tummy or her breasts but rather her hand was pulling it this way and that so the semen, when it came spurting, went flying everywhere. She could feel but not see it. She did not, could not, see it start but just felt the effects. The penis in her hand sending spurts of of semen up into the air, to fall down in the pitch blackness here there and everywhere all over their bodies. Warm droplets of semen raining down upon them. Only in the morning did Penelope worry some might have flown to her sex and been pushed inside by Steve's thrusting fingers.
Penelope awoke to find Steve standing by her bed with a cup of tea. He was not naked, not presenting his penis, not making it loom soft or erect over her, seeking an early morning hand job or a suck; he was not even in his pyjamas but fully dressed. The contrast with her was marked: her sheet was thrown back and her pink, naked body was completely on show. The way she was lying with thighs apart would have meant Steve would have seen everything when he had come in the door. Perhaps he had stood for a time and stared at her and her hairy quim, no doubt still messy with lotion. But not cum: Steve had been good she recalled, had not done what few men could have resisted and pushed his penis into her and inseminated. A relief! She would not have stopped him she knew. She had been a woman in heat, in oestrus perhaps.
Not cum within her but, undoubtedly, there on her stomach, breasts and even thighs the dried evidence of his release - her own doing It had seemed only right - at the time.
"Oh tea! Thank you, Steve, you are being so kind."
Penelope did not, of course, expect to leave the house that day and the most she expected to do was walk naked in the confines of the back garden. It was a fine day, though, and Steve suggested a walk knowing a wood with infrequently used paths where she could safely walk naked but for sandals.
"Can't really go for a pub lunch though in just your silk wrap."
Possibly, just possibly with it well tied she could, but Penelope did not feel at all keen about the idea. Whilst she went along with the suggestion of the walk she did not, in fact, wear the silk at all. She had, of course, expected to wear it in the car as they had done on the drive up but when she walked out of the front door with Steve, terribly conscious of her nudity, she found it was not where she had left it on the front seat.
"I put it in my haversack along with our picnic in case... in case we meet someone."
"B...b...but what if someone looks into our car/"
"Just crouch down a little, nobody looks in that sort of detail. There are no traffic lights, we shall be on the move the whole time."
Another new experience, sitting in the passenger seat of a car stark naked but for a pair of sandals as she was driven for miles and miles along country roads. Eventually they stopped beside the road and Steve got out.
"Here we are."
Another new experience, setting off for a ramble not only without a haversack but without clothes or even a handbag. Steve in open neck shirt, shorts, walking shoes and socks plus the haversack: she in nothing, absolutely nothing. except sandals on her feet.
"I don't think there'll be many, if any, stinging nettles but my legs are as bare as yours so you will not be alone."
"It won't be just my legs will it, Steve? Somewhere more delicate perhaps! If your todger was out in the open how would you like that getting stung?"
Steve was looking at her, directly looking at her pubic hair - so on display. "I'd have thought you'd have to walk into a patch to get stung there! But, yeah, I suppose I'd be a bit more vulnerable. Would you prefer if I walked naked too?"
Penelope laughed. "Only if we come to the stinging nettles." For the time being there were none.
The whole experience of having to go away with Steve Knowles of all people and the problems of her condition did not mean she could not appreciate the prettiness of the path by a wood, the morning scents and the bright warm sunlight.
The allusion to her genitalia brought it so home to Penelope the strange, sort of sexual predicament she was in. Steve had not been forward the night before when she had so needed that cream, had not tried deliberately to rub his, actually quite big, penis against her. She had not felt him squeeze it between her breasts, as she could very much imagine he would like to do and slide in all that slippery lotion, he had not asked her to blow him or try, slyly, to slip himself inside her vagina or, not so slyly, even her bottom. It was she who had wanked him off, she who had initiated the hand job. It had been meant as a thank you and not because she needed the soothing properties of his semen. He had, after all, provided plenty of that special lotion.
Walking behind Steve in his shorts, she bit her lip. The thought of semen had sent a little shiver through her. She realised in a subconscious, animalistic way, that her mind had registered how soothing, how relieving Steve's semen had been on her breasts and now associated its production not as the likely outcome of sexual relations with a man but with its skin soothing properties as well. The mere idea of smoothing splashes of warm semen across her body gave her a strangely comfortable feeling. It was strange how the mind and subconscious worked. How the mind could be trained.
Steve had been right about the lack of other walkers. They walked alone through a lovely wood with the sun slanting down through the trees giving a dappled light to the ground. In the wood they walked side by side but a few footpaths were narrow enough for them to need to walk one in front of the other. When she was in front Penelope wondered how much Steve enjoyed watching her naked bottom.
They sat at the edge of a wood looking down into a bit of a valley to eat their picnic lunch. Penelope was careful where she sat. It was not just stinging nettles that could hurt -- there were thistles as well. Not at all what you wanted on the soft skin of your bottom let alone the delicate skin of your anus!
Steve had explained it was mostly a circular walk with hardly any need to retrace their steps. The emptiness of the countryside in the morning seemed to change in the afternoon. First there was a man sitting by the path whom they came across quite unexpectedly not seeing him until they were right up to him. His grin as he looked at them was not unsurprising. Penelope squeaked and tried to hide herself with hands to pubes and breasts but he had seen plenty enough before that. She was a bit surprised to find Steve knew the man, indeed had played with him in a local rugby team in the past. Penelope felt uncomfortable as Steve exchanged a few words with him. She had wanted to hurry on and was so conscious, when they walked on, of the man's eyes staring at her bottom.
