Love, Rain o’er Me
She took her time positioning me just right in the little hollow.
With springtime making an earlier than usual appearance, we’d had some balmy weather recently, and celebrated it like we usually did by spending some time up in the mountains.
I sat with my back straight up against a slim birch, its streaky white bark peeling off in curls. She stood in front of me, just a piece of gauzy lace and satin between my lips and her crotch. Her hands behind my head, she let me inhale deeply, musky perspiration and moist arousal, tinged with crisp air and crumbly soil.
“You know what I like, pet. Yes, take it all in.”
The sun filtered through the tangle of bare tree tops at just the right intensity to warm naked skin even though an errant gust of wind would occasionally raise goosebumps.
She spread her hypnotic thighs and lowered herself onto my face, the pale skin glowing in the afternoon light. The deep violet panties were my personal favorite, having spent long periods of time with them soaked in her essence and balled-up in my mouth. Closer she came, holding on to the trunk of the tree until contact was made.
“Oh yes baby, open wide for me. Make me happy.”
We hiked here often, relishing the quiet and unkempt minor trails that most visitors to the state forest knew little about. There was no one around today either to overhear us.
I became the male object of a Harukawa sketch as she smothered me. The waistband of her underwear rubbed against my forehead as I fought to breathe, taking in mouthfuls of essential oxygen and ensconced cunt. She reached down and pulled the moist gusset aside, showing me her plump vulva. Her clit crushed against my nose as my tongue painted her pussy lips, dewy strands connecting them.
“Lick that clit yes, fuck me with your tongue, mmm.”
There was rustling in the underbrush as life went on its merry way all around us. Spring was budding and life suffused our surroundings, in rhythm with her low grunts.
The rough bark bit into my scalp as she grasped the trunk with both hands and thrust forward. Her rapidly shortening breaths and higher pitched cries indicated that whatever I was doing was working well, so I continued to knead handfuls of her voluptuous derriere as my taut tongue plunged in and out of her. She supplemented my efforts with a fluttering finger on her clit and she was very close.
“Fuh-uh-uh-uh-uck yes, yes.. unh.. unhhh!”
Puffy little clouds scudded across the blue sky as birds chirped in unison, gathering together for their supper. The rutting noises we made felt integral to the slice of nature we had inserted ourselves into.
Time and place stood still as she approached the edge of her orgasm. The heat emanating from our passionate copulation and physical effort radiated through our bodies. My face remained buried in her blonde fuzz triangle as her trembling thighs shuddered, then seized up.
“Oh fuck fuck fuckkk I’m comingggg!”
The forest held its breath as her euphoric moans pierced the trees. The silent spell lasted a breathless second before she exhaled heavily and came with a gush. Her index finger continued its magic on her clit, she opened her stance and squirted all over my face.
I was going to drown before I asphyxiated despite being ready to receive. The limpid ejaculate glistened in the dappled sunlight as she leaned back to watch herself showering me, the spray turning into a damp steam rising above us.
“That’s right pet, let it wash over you, yes.”
Her legs were still shaking slightly as she stepped out of the drenched panties. She pointed to them puddled on the dried leaves underfoot.
“You know what to do.”
Dutifully, I scooted over and picked them up, inhaling deeply before slowly stuffing them into my mouth. Face and hair still dripping wet I got on my knees, letting her heady scents overcome my senses.
I pulled down my shorts and the naughty red panties I had on underneath. A slut should wear the colour with pride, she’d always insisted.
“Yes you may.”
She answered my unasked question and I gingerly touched my trembling, unbridled cock, using the strings of pre-cum dripping from it to get it lubed up.
Whack. With a sharp crack, I felt a searing line across my behind. She’d picked up a brittle branch from the undergrowth, and she swung it again with a whoosh and the retort echoing between the trees.
“Come for me.”
I needed no second bidding, and pumped furiously as she kept metronomic time with the switch. I caved before her arm tired, shooting ropey strands into the brush in front of me.
Communing with nature, whether by a carnal tribute or through a contemplative hike, is one of the purest feelings we can experience as humans. We hope to never lose that.
This piece was a work in progress when I heard the news of Namio Harukawa’s passing recently — it is dedicated to him, his incredible vision and groundbreaking artwork.
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[Submitted to Masturbation Monday, Week 296]
[Broaden your vocabulary, Write Big Sexy Words!]