I am a big fan of outdoor sex and it seems the lovely Mrs Vanda Jones is too. One of the biggest thrills of alfresco fucking is the risk of being discovered and overseen. In this wonderful submission, that’s just what happened…
Chloë
__________
I’d underestimated how hot it was out when we started on our Sunday afternoon walk. I’d dressed in a loose top and skimpy shorts, but my feet were sweltering in my walking boots, and sweat was streaming off of me. I’d drunk half my water, and kept worrying whether I needed to reapply my sunscreen.
But my god it was beautiful out. It was one of those days where even Mr Jones — occasional fan of having the British countryside concreted over entirely — kept commenting how pretty it all looked.
We stopped to drink near an impressively old oak tree. I looked at the names carved in it, some of them very recent and wondered how a couple could love each other enough to want to carve their name into a tree, but not love the tree enough to leave the damn thing alone.
***
Being bored, or hungry, or both, Mr Jones led me away into the long grass and we’d started to kiss. His hands were all over my chest, pulling my top out of my shorts. This his hands were up inside my top, stroking my skin, undoing my bra. I moaned in appreciation as I reached down and stroked his hard cock through his shorts.
I lay down without being asked and he lay on top of me, kissing at first before he pulled my top up and put his hot mouth around one nipple, gently squeezing and tugging the other before swapping over. Then his hands were at my waist, undoing the button on shorts, unzipping the fly. I wiggled my hips as he pulled down, taking my knickers with them. The unavoidable fuss of getting my shorts over my boots was soon forgotten as I felt his first, long, ice cream licks over my swollen pussy.
I looked up at the sky through the trees, relaxing as he took his time. His hands were behind my thighs now stroking my shin softly as he licked. He was totally unhurried, not focused on making me come at all. He was just there with me and nature, relaxing me totally with his skilled tongue.
Then my reverie was broken by a rustling noise and in opened my eyes to find a dog quickly darting its eager nose over my mouth, face, and neck. I watched as without breaking concentration Mr Jones pushed his hand in the direction of the dog shooing it away. Some distance off I heard a woman calling for the dog.
I closed my eyes again and relaxed, back in the moment finding that he was now more urgent with his mouth — his tongue hard and insistent on my clit, the grip of his hands more firm behind me, pulling my vulva in closer. He’d gone from wanting me to relax to wanting me to come.
Then I opened my eyes and saw her. The dog walker was standing a way behind Mr Jones but looking at us coupling. She was tall and slim, with long brown hair, and a body to die for. She looked hot as hell in a long, flowing summer dress. Her dog bounded away looking for god knows what around her as she looked on.
I arched my back and moaned, pushing myself into Mr Jones, my hands on his head now. *If you want to watch*, I thought, *watch this*.
I looked back at the woman and watched as she hitched up her skirt revealing slim, toned hips and upper thighs. There were no knickers and I saw her pussy was smooth, and fuck how I wished I could feel her smooth cunt against my upper lip as I ran my tongue over and inside her.
I watched as she gathered her skirt up and held it in place with an arm across her abdomen. Then she did exactly what I needed — her right hand went down to her crotch. She started to wank and I watched her transfixed as she wanked over the show that Mr Jones and I were giving her.
But I couldn’t hold my concentration. He was bringing me close now — my legs were twitching and he could feel it too, upping the firmness and keeping the rhythm. *Dammit I need you to slow down*, but I daren’t say anything to him in case I scared her off.
In my minds eye she joined us. Her dress came off in one smooth movement and she lay beside me and kissed me deeply, her hand pulling and tugging at my hard nipples. I could feel her in my mouth as I looked on at her, her hands making quick movements against her clit.
I looked at her in real life and saw her body was betraying her arousal. Her legs quivered, threatening to send her to the ground. She was as close as I was.
In my mind now she was knelt on top of me, her soft cunt positioned over my lips as I arch my head up to taste. Then she’s pushing down hard, groaning against me, using me for her own pleasure. She flicks her hips back and forth, my pointed tongue feeling for her hard clit with each back and forth movement.
In real life she’s going to come — I know that face — and as she does a deep gasp falls out of her. Mr Jones flinches a little on hearing her but keeps going and I’m quickly taken over the edge too. My eyes roll shut as I quiver and buck on the ground, waiting for the last of my orgasm to ebb away.
When I open my eyes she is gone, and Mr Jones is moving up me, working his belt and freeing his cock.
But the dog is there and I click my tongue and I look friendly and call him over. When he’s close enough I grab his collar and find a phone number engraved on one of the tags. “Give us your phone,” I say to Mr Jones, and when he proffers it I type in the number and press “Save”.
Copyright©, 2015, Mrs Vanda Jones– nibbledandlicked.com
All rights reserved.