OxonWoods Man

Category: Erotic Scenarios

  • Wychwood Forge’s Embrace

    In the shadowed heart of Wychwood, where ancient trees twisted skyward like the gnarled hands of forgotten gods, Francesca, moved with the silent grace of a predator. The Warrior Princess of Wychwood, a striking figure, tall and lithe, her leather skirt clinging to her hips, its ragged hem brushing her thighs as she navigated the moss-draped roots. Beneath it, leather knickers molded to her form, a practical yet intimate shield against the wilds. A brass breastplate, intricately etched with curling vines, hugged her torso, glinting faintly in the dim light that pierced the forest’s thick canopy. Her broadsword hung strapped across her back, its weight a familiar comfort as she patrolled the realm she’d sworn to protect.

    Wychwood was no ordinary forest. It thrummed with magic, its air heavy with the scent of pine, damp earth, and the faint musk of unseen creatures. The trees, their bark scarred by time, whispered secrets in a language older than humankind, their branches interlocking to form a ceiling that swallowed the sun. Here, myth and reality danced a perilous waltz, and Francesca, raised among its mysteries, knew its rhythms well. Today, the forest felt alive with restless energy, urging her deeper into its embrace.

    As she approached a clearing she often used as a vantage point, a sound snagged her attention, soft, rhythmic moans interwoven with the rustling of leaves. Her pulse quickened, curiosity warring with duty. She crept forward, her boots sinking into the loamy soil, and parted the thorny branches of a blackthorn bush. What she saw stole the breath from her lungs.

    In the center of the clearing, bathed in a shaft of rare sunlight, a Woodwode and a Wood Nymph were entwined in a lover’s embrace. The Woodwode was a creature of primal majesty, his form a fusion of man and forest. His skin, rough as oak bark, rippled with muscle beneath a texture that seemed carved from the trees themselves. Leaves and twigs sprouted from his hair, a living crown that shivered with each movement, and his eyes burned with an emerald fire, ancient and untamed. He towered over the nymph, his hands, large, calloused, yet gentle, cradling her as though she were both treasure and tempest.

    The Wood Nymph was his ethereal counterpoint, a vision of otherworldly grace. Her skin shimmered with a soft, pearlescent glow, as if lit from within by moonlight trapped beneath her flesh. Her hair cascaded in waves of vibrant color, violet petals fading to golden blooms, then wilting to crimson before blooming anew, a cycle of life mirroring her every breath. Slender and supple, she moved with a fluidity that defied mortal constraints, her eyes closed in rapture as she surrendered to the Woodwode’s touch.

    Their union was a dance of nature, raw and reverent. The Woodwode knelt in the moss, his knees sinking into the earth as he drew the nymph into his lap. She straddled him, her legs wrapping around his waist, her hands tracing the ridges of his bark-like chest. He entered her with a slow, deliberate thrust, and her head tipped back, a cascade of flowers spilling from her hair to scatter across the ground. Her moan was a melody, high and keening, blending with the low, resonant groan that rumbled from his throat.

    Francesca watched, rooted to the spot, her heart pounding against her ribs. The air grew thick with the scent of sap and crushed petals, mingling with the musk of their arousal. The Woodwode’s hands roamed the nymph’s body, cupping her breasts, thumbs brushing nipples that glowed like tiny stars, then sliding down to grip her hips. She rocked against him, her movements fluid yet urgent, each thrust met with a counterpoint that spoke of deep, instinctual harmony. His cock, thick and veined like a tree root, glistened as it plunged into her, her slickness catching the light in fleeting, iridescent flashes.

    Heat bloomed in Francesca’s core, an ache that spread like wildfire through her veins. She shifted, her thighs pressing together beneath her skirt, and her hand slipped beneath the leather, finding the damp within her knickers. Her fingers brushed her clit, tentative at first, then bolder, circling in time with the couple’s rhythm. She bit her lip, stifling a gasp as she imagined herself in the nymph’s place, the Woodwode’s rough hands on her skin, his cock filling her with that same relentless force. The fantasy sent a shiver racing down her spine, her breath hitching as pleasure coiled tighter within her.

    The Woodwode quickened his pace, his thrusts growing deeper, more insistent. The nymph’s cries sharpened, her body arching as she clawed at his shoulders, leaving trails of sap where her nails dug in. Flowers burst from her hair in a riot of color, petals raining down to carpet the moss. Francesca’s fingers moved faster, her arousal soaking her fingers, but the sensation remained frustratingly hollow. She pressed harder, chasing release, yet the sight before her demanded more than her own touch could provide.

    In the clearing, the lovers neared their peak. The Woodwode’s hands tightened on the nymph’s hips, lifting her slightly before slamming her down onto him, his growl reverberating through the trees. She screamed, a sound of pure ecstasy, her body convulsing as her climax claimed her. Flowers withered and bloomed in rapid succession, a storm of petals swirling around them. He followed moments later, his head thrown back, leaves trembling as he roared his release, his cock pulsing deep inside her. They stilled, locked together, their breaths ragged in the sudden silence, the forest seeming to hold its breath in awe.

    Francesca withdrew her hand, trembling, her body taut with unspent desire. The ache within her was a living thing, gnawing at her resolve. She needed more, something real, something visceral. Adjusting her knickers, she stood, casting one last glance at the lovers as they collapsed into the moss, entwined and sated. Her destination crystallized in her mind: Sir Richard’s workshop. He alone could quench the fire they’d ignited.

    She turned from the clearing, her boots crunching leaves as she forged a path toward the canal. The forest grew denser here, shadows lengthening as the canopy thickened, but her senses remained sharp. As she neared the stone bridge spanning the waterway, a cluster of guttural voices halted her steps. She ducked behind a twisted yew, peering out to see a gang of trolls huddled near the water’s edge.

    They were a brutish lot, five in number, their warty skin glistening with slime, yellowed tusks protruding from sneering mouths. Their eyes glinted with malice, and their hands clutched crude weapons: a rusted axe, a splintered club, a length of chain. Francesca strained to catch their words, her grip tightening on her sword’s hilt.

    “Tonight’s the night,” one growled, his voice like gravel underfoot. “We hit the smith’s place. Take his brass, his tools, take everything.”

    Another chuckled, a sound that grated like stone on stone. “He’s alone, no match for us. We’ll gut him if he squeals.”

    Rage flared in Francesca’s chest, hot and bright. Sir Richard was more than a craftsman; he was a guardian of Wychwood’s spirit, his forge a beacon of safety. She wouldn’t let these filth defile it. Drawing her broadsword with a whisper of steel, she stepped into view, her stance radiating menace.

    The trolls whirled, surprise morphing into snarls. “Who’re you?” the leader barked, hefting his axe.

    “Your reckoning,” Francesca said, her voice ice-cold. “Leave now, or I’ll make you wish you had.”

    They laughed, a cacophony of derision. “Five against one, girlie,” the chain-wielder sneered. “You’re dead meat.”

    Her lips curled into a feral smile. “Prove it.”

    She lunged, blade flashing as the trolls charged. The leader swung his axe, but she ducked, the weapon whistling over her head. She drove her sword’s pommel into his gut, doubling him over, then spun to parry the club aimed at her skull. The impact jarred her arms, but she pivoted, slashing the flat of her blade across the troll’s temple. He crumpled, out cold.

    The chain-wielder lashed out, the links whistling toward her legs. She leapt, the chain grazing her boot, and landed with a thrust that caught his wrist, forcing him to drop his weapon. A kick to his knee sent him howling to the ground. The remaining two rushed her together, one with a dagger, the other bare-fisted. She sidestepped the blade, grabbing the dagger-wielder’s arm and twisting until it snapped, his scream echoing as she flung him into his companion. A final blow to each head silenced them.

    Breathing hard, sweat beading on her brow, Francesca surveyed the fallen trolls. None were dead, she’d used restraint, honoring Wychwood’s balance, but they wouldn’t trouble anyone soon. She fetched hemp ropes from her satchel, binding their wrists and ankles with practiced knots. “Stay down,” she muttered, stepping over their groaning forms.

    Her muscles ached, her body slick with exertion, but the fire in her belly still burned. She pressed on, the canal’s lock gates looming ahead, and with them, Sir Richard’s workshop. Smoke curled from its chimney, the rhythmic clang of hammer on metal a siren’s call.

    She pushed open the oak door, heat slamming into her like a physical force. The forge roared at the room’s center, its glow casting flickering shadows across stone walls. Sir Richard stood at his anvil, a titan of sinew and sweat. His linen shirt clung to his broad chest, translucent with perspiration, revealing the dark hair beneath. A leather apron shielded his torso, but below, he wore only a thong, no trousers, his muscular legs bare and glistening. His hammer struck brass with relentless precision, each blow a testament to his mastery.

    She cleared her throat, and he paused, turning to face her. His gray eyes, sharp as storm clouds, locked onto hers, roaming her form with unabashed appraisal, her sweat-slicked skin, the taut leather skirt, the brass breastplate contoured over her breasts. A slow smile curved his lips, both knowing and hungry.

    “Princess Francesca, Wychwood’s Warrior” he rumbled, his voice deep enough to rattle her bones. “What brings you here?”

    She stepped closer, her boots clicking on stone. “I need brass,” she said, her tone steady despite the huskiness creeping in. “A guard for… a sensitive place.”

    His brow lifted, intrigue sparking in his gaze. He set the hammer down, wiping his hands on a rag, and closed the distance between them. “Sensitive, eh?” His eyes flicked to her groin, then back to her face. “I’ll need to measure you proper.”

    Her pulse raced as she unbuckled her skirt, letting it fall. The leather knickers followed, leaving her bare from the waist down. The workshop’s heat kissed her skin, intensifying the ache within her. Sir Richard sank to his knees, his face level with her hips, and his hands hovered above her mound, hesitating as if to prolong the tension.

    Then he touched her, fingers tracing her contours with a craftsman’s care, measuring width, depth, shape. Sparks shot through her, her breath catching as he lingered, caressing now, his touch igniting her further. “You’re wet,” he observed, voice low and rough.

    “Watching a Woodwode and nymph,” she admitted, cheeks flushing. “It… it, stirred me.”

    He chuckled, a dark, velvety sound. “I reckon it did.” He rose, fetching a brass sheet from a shelf, his shirt stretching tight across his back. Returning, he knelt again, a tool scratching her outline into the metal. His other hand rested on her thigh, thumb circling her skin, driving her mad.

    Her fingers found his thong, untying it with a tug. It fell, revealing his cock, thick, long, hardening under her gaze. He didn’t flinch, his focus on the brass, but his eyes gleamed with want. She grasped him, stroking slowly, marveling at his heat.

    He set the brass aside, cupping her pussy fully in his work roughened hand. “Need the exact shape,” he growled, fingers slipping inside her. She gasped, lifting a leg over his shoulder, opening to him. He thrust deeper, curling his fingers, and she cried out, her hand tightening on his cock.

    Their mouths crashed together, a hungry clash of lips and tongues. She guided him to her entrance, rubbing his tip against her until he groaned. His hands gripped her hips, and he thrust, filling her completely. She moaned, legs wrapping around him as he lifted her, pinning her against the workbench.

    He moved with purpose, shallow teases, then deep plunges, each stroke pushing her closer to the edge. Her fingers found her clit, circling frantically, and she came with a scream, her body clenching around him. He didn’t stop, driving her to another peak before spinning her around.

    Bent over the anvil, she spread her legs as he teased her clit with his cock, sparking another orgasm. He slammed into her, hands untying her breastplate to cup her breasts, pinching her nipples. Pleasure-pain surged, and she felt him tense, his thrusts growing erratic.

    “Together,” she gasped, and he nodded. With a final, deep thrust, he came, his release triggering hers. They shuddered as one, waves of ecstasy crashing over them, until they stilled, panting in the forge’s glow.

    He withdrew, steadying her as she swayed. “Guard’ll be ready by dawn,” he said, voice soft with promise.

    She dressed, smiling faintly. “Thank you.” Stepping into the night, she knew this was just the beginning, a bond forged in Wychwood’s fire, destined to endure.

  • The Coastal Path Encounter

    The Scottish coast stretched out in wild, untamed beauty before Kiri and her friends, Emma and Morag. The three women had set out that morning along a rugged cliffside path, the wind tugging at their hair and the salty tang of the North Sea filling their lungs. Kiri, at 47, carried a few extra pounds that softened her frame, her large breasts swaying slightly beneath her loose-fitting sweater as she walked. She’d always been comfortable in her body, its curves, its heft, its appetites. Her sexuality was a well-worn path she’d traveled with confidence, her high sex drive a constant hum beneath the surface of her everyday life. Between her legs, her large pussy was a landscape of its own, prominent, crinkled inner lips darker than the surrounding skin, neatly trimmed pubic hair framing it like a crown. She knew it well, loved it fiercely, and today, as the sun climbed higher, she felt that familiar itch stirring.

    Emma, wiry and sharp-tongued, led the trio, her short blonde hair whipping in the breeze. Morag, broader and quieter, trailed behind, her auburn curls bouncing with each step. They’d been friends for years, bonded by laughter and a shared irreverence for propriety. When Emma spotted a narrow trail veering off the main path toward a secluded cove, she didn’t hesitate. “Let’s get some sun on our bones,” she declared, and Kiri grinned, already imagining the cool sand against her skin.

    The beach was a hidden gem, a crescent of pale sand framed by jagged cliffs and lapped by gentle waves. It was deserted, save for the gulls wheeling overhead. Without a word, the three women stripped off their clothes, tossing sweaters, jeans, and underwear into a haphazard pile. Kiri stood naked, her heavy breasts settling against her chest, nipples tightening in the crisp air. She ran a hand absently over her stomach, feeling the softness there, then let her fingers brush the coarse hair above her pussy, a private ritual of self-assurance. Morag stretched out in the middle, her freckled skin gleaming, while Emma flopped onto the sand on the right, facing the ocean. Kiri took the left, closest to where the beach curved toward the cliffs, and lay back, the sun warming her flesh.

    For an hour, they basked in silence, the rhythmic crash of waves lulling them into a lazy haze. Kiri’s mind drifted, her body alive with the sensation of being bare under the sky. Her thoughts, as they often did, turned to sex, memories of past lovers, the weight of a man’s hands, the stretch of a cock inside her. She shifted slightly, feeling the sand shift beneath her ample hips, and let her legs part just enough to feel the breeze tease her inner thighs.

    Then, a figure appeared.

    He came from the left, walking along the shoreline toward them. Tall and slim, he carried the easy grace of someone older, perhaps in his mid to late fifties, his silver, grey hair catching the light. Kiri noticed him first, her eyes tracking him casually as he approached. He stopped about thirty feet away, near the water’s edge, and set down a small bag. Without a glance their way, he began to undress. Kiri propped herself on one elbow, intrigued. His shirt came off first, revealing a lean torso dusted with gray hair. Then his trousers, exposing long, sinewy legs. She watched, unhurried, until he stood in nothing but a pair of dark briefs. The bulge there was unmistakable, promising, substantial, and her pulse quickened.

    When he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and slid the briefs down, Kiri’s breath caught. His cock sprang free, thick and long, hanging heavy between his thighs. It wasn’t erect, but its sheer size was impressive, a soft arc of flesh that swayed slightly as he moved. He glanced her way and smiled, a warm, knowing smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. Kiri returned it, her gaze dropping back to his cock as she tried to gauge its potential. Eight inches? Nine? More when hard? She couldn’t be sure, but the thought sent a shiver through her.

    He spread a towel on the sand and lay on his back, his head turned just enough to keep her in his peripheral vision. His cock draped across his left hip, away from her, its weight pulling it down against his skin. Kiri rolled onto her side, facing him fully, her left arm tucked beneath her head. Her right breast rested heavily against her chest, the nipple brushing the sand. She studied him, the faint lines of muscle in his thighs, the relaxed curve of his belly, and that magnificent cock, lolling there like an invitation. Her right leg bent slightly, raising her knee, and her hand drifted down her body. She let her fingers graze her pussy, tracing the thick, crinkled lips she knew so well. They were warm, already slick with the first stirrings of arousal.

    At first, her touch was light, discreet, a slow circling of her clit that could’ve been mistaken for an idle scratch. But he noticed. His head tilted further toward her, and he rolled onto his right side, mirroring her position. His cock twitched, swelling faintly as blood began to rush into it. His hand moved down, long fingers wrapping around the shaft, and he started to stroke himself, slow and deliberate. Kiri’s breath hitched. She lifted her leg higher, parting her thighs, and slipped two fingers inside herself. The wetness there was immediate, her pussy yielding to her touch with a soft squelch. This wasn’t about a quick release, not yet. She wanted to be ready, lubricated and open, for what she knew was coming.

    His cock grew steadily, thickening and lengthening as he worked it. The head emerged from its foreskin, glistening faintly in the sunlight. Kiri’s eyes locked on it, her fingers plunging deeper, curling against her inner walls. She imagined him inside her, stretching her wide, filling her in a way she hadn’t felt in years. When he was nearly fully erect, eight inches at least, maybe more, she couldn’t wait any longer. She pulled her hand free, her fingers glistening, and stood.

    The sand shifted beneath her feet as she crossed the distance between them. She knelt beside him, her knees sinking into the towel, and let her gaze travel from his cock up his body to his face. His eyes were hazel, warm with amusement and desire. He opened his mouth to speak, perhaps to introduce himself, but Kiri pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. Names didn’t matter. She pushed him gently onto his back and leaned down, her breasts brushing his chest as she took his cock in her hand. It was heavy, warm, the skin velvet-smooth over its rigid core. She lowered her mouth to it, lips parting to take him in.

    He tasted faintly of salt and musk, his thickness stretching her jaw as she sucked. Her tongue swirled around the head, teasing the slit, and he groaned softly. His hands found her, one threading into her hair, the other sliding between her thighs. His fingers, long and deft, stroked her pussy, parting her lips and slipping inside. She moaned around his cock, the vibration drawing another groan from him. He was fully hard now, a towering presence in her mouth, and she knew she needed him elsewhere.

    Kiri pulled back, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his tip, and straddled him. She guided his cock to her entrance, the head nudging against her slick folds. Slowly, she sank down, feeling him stretch her inch by inch. It was exquisite, almost too much. He was the largest she’d ever had, his girth pressing against every nerve inside her, his length reaching deeper than anyone before. Her pussy clenched around him, adjusting to the fullness, and she gasped, her hands braced on his chest. She felt stuffed, gloriously so, her inner walls pulsing against him as she settled fully onto his hips.

    She began to move, rocking slowly, savoring the drag of him inside her. Each motion sent a jolt through her, the pressure building low in her belly. Her breasts bounced with her rhythm, heavy and free, and she reached down with her right hand, fingers finding her clit. She rubbed it in tight circles, amplifying the sensation of his cock filling her. The combination was electric, his size stretching her, her fingers teasing her to the edge. She rode him like that for long minutes, the sun hot on her back, the sound of the waves blending with their breaths.

    Her orgasm built gradually, a slow wave cresting higher with each thrust. When it hit, it was shattering. She cried out, her pussy clamping down on him, spasms rippling through her core. Her fingers pressed harder against her clit, drawing out the pleasure until she was trembling, breathless. He groaned beneath her, his hands gripping her hips, but he didn’t come, not yet.

    Panting, Kiri slid off him, his cock slipping free with a wet sound. She shoved him off the towel, onto the sand, and got onto all fours, her knees sinking into the soft ground. Her breasts hung low, swaying as she arched her back, presenting herself. He didn’t hesitate. Kneeling behind her, he lined himself up and thrust in, burying himself to the hilt. The angle was different, deeper, sharper, and she moaned loudly, the sound echoing off the cliffs. Their bodies slapped together, a rhythmic, primal noise that drowned out the waves.

    She reached back with one hand, fingers working her clit again, but as the pressure built, she let go, wanting to feel him alone. He pounded into her, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her back onto him. Her second orgasm came faster, harder, a tidal wave that crashed over her and kept going. She screamed, her voice raw, her pussy spasming around him as the pleasure stretched out, endless and consuming. When it finally began to ebb, she pulled away, his cock sliding free with a slick pop.

    Kiri stood, legs shaky, and glanced around. Morag was nearby, one leg cocked up on a rock, her fingers buried in her own pussy as she watched. Their eyes met, and Morag grinned, a wicked, conspiratorial smile. Kiri returned it, then turned toward Emma, who was waiting a few feet away, her slim body taut with anticipation.

    Without a word, Kiri lay back on the sand, and Emma climbed over her, positioning herself for a 69. Kiri’s tongue found Emma’s pussy, tight and tangy, while Emma’s mouth descended on Kiri’s still-throbbing folds. They devoured each other, tongues and lips working in tandem, the taste of salt and arousal mingling. In the background, Morag’s cries rose, sharp and needy, as she took her turn with the stranger. Kiri didn’t look, she didn’t need to. The sounds told her everything: Morag’s gasps, the slap of flesh, the stranger’s low grunts.

    Kiri focused on Emma, on the slick heat against her tongue, the pressure of Emma’s mouth on her clit. They came together, a shared shudder that left them panting into each other’s thighs. When it was over, Kiri lay back, staring up at the sky, her body humming with satisfaction. The stranger, the beach, her friends, it was a moment of pure, unbridled freedom, etched into the wild Scottish coast.

  • Emma – 06 – New Chapter

    A Clearing at Dusk: Rekindling a Marriage

    The late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow over Emma’s Oxfordshire cottage as Derreck’s car pulled into the driveway. Emma stood at the kitchen window, her body still tingling from her morning with Richard, her pussy sore but sated in the best way, the memory of his thick cock and their passionate fucking in his workshop lingering in her mind. She still wore the pale blue summer dress with tiny white daisies, the same one she’d worn for her first encounter with Richard, her body bare beneath it, the fabric clinging to her skin, a reminder of the freedom she’d felt with him.

    But now, as Derreck stepped through the door, his familiar smile lighting up his face, Emma felt a new determination settle over her. Her marriage to Derreck was loving, a partnership built on trust and companionship, but their sex life had always been lacking, a fact that had driven her into Richard’s arms. Derreck’s acceptance of her dalliances had given her the freedom to explore her desires, but she didn’t want to rely on others to fulfill her needs forever. She wanted to awaken their sex life, to teach Derreck how to please her, to build a deeper intimacy between them. The morning’s quick, unsatisfying sex had only solidified her resolve, and she was ready to take the first step.

    “Evening, love,” Derreck said, setting his bag down and pulling her into a hug, his arms warm and familiar around her. He was in his mid-forties, average height with a solid build, his dark hair flecked with gray, his brown eyes soft with affection. “How was your day?”

    Emma smiled, her hands resting on his chest as she looked up at him, her hazel eyes bright with intent. “It was good,” she said, her voice light but laced with meaning. “But I was thinking, how about a walk after dinner? Just the two of us. It’s a beautiful evening.”

    Derreck raised an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “A walk, huh? Sounds nice. Let me change, and I’ll help with dinner.”

    They moved through the evening with a comfortable ease, preparing a simple meal of grilled chicken and salad, their conversation flowing as they ate at the small kitchen table. Emma steered the discussion toward their shared memories, reminiscing about the early days of their marriage, the trips they’d taken, the dreams they’d had. Derreck opened up about his day at work, his voice animated as he described a new project, and Emma listened, her heart swelling with affection for the man she’d chosen to spend her life with. The conversation was lovely, a reminder of the bond they shared, and it set the tone for what she hoped would be a transformative evening.

    As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting the sky in shades of orange and pink, they set out for their walk, hand in hand, the warm August air wrapping around them like a soft embrace. Emma led the way, her bare feet slipping into sandals, her dress swishing around her knees, the lack of underwear making her feel bold and free. Derreck wore a light shirt and trousers, his hand warm in hers as they walked through the village and toward the woods where she and Richard had seen the herd of Roe deer just a week ago. The memory of that dawn, the deer, and Richard’s cock inside her, sent a shiver through her, but she pushed it aside, focusing on the man beside her, the man she wanted to reconnect with.

    They reached the clearing just as the light began to fade, the sky a deep indigo streaked with the last traces of sunset, the air heavy with the scent of wildflowers and damp earth. The clearing was as beautiful as Emma remembered, the grass shimmering with the first hints of evening dew, the surrounding trees casting long shadows in the fading light. They crouched behind the same cluster of ferns where Emma and Richard had hidden, their movements quiet to avoid startling any wildlife, and waited, their eyes scanning the clearing for the herd of Roe deer they’d come to see.

    The deer appeared just as they had before, emerging from the trees on the far side of the clearing, their slender forms moving with a quiet grace that took Emma’s breath away. It was the same small herd, eleven Roe deer of different ages, heading in the same direction as they had a week ago, their movements calm and deliberate as they grazed and explored the clearing. Emma squeezed Derreck’s hand, her voice a soft whisper. “There they are,” she said, her eyes bright with wonder, and Derreck nodded, his own expression filled with awe as he watched the deer, his hand tightening in hers.

    The herd consisted of three adult does, their reddish-brown coats glowing in the dusk, their movements methodical as they nibbled at the grass, their large, dark eyes scanning the clearing for any sign of danger. Two adult bucks followed, their antlers small but elegant, covered in velvet, a sign of the late summer season, their steps confident as they moved through the grass, occasionally lifting their heads to sniff the air. Four yearlings, their coats a slightly lighter shade, stayed close to the does, their movements playful, darting between the adults in short bursts of energy, their hooves barely making a sound on the soft grass. Two fawns, born earlier in the summer, trailed behind, their spotted coats blending with the dappled light, their small ears flicking as they took tentative steps, their curiosity evident in their wide, innocent eyes.

    Emma and Derreck watched in silence, their wonder growing with each passing minute, the deer’s behavior a perfect blend of caution and curiosity. The does grazed with a steady rhythm, their teeth tearing at the grass with a soft, rustling sound, their tails flicking to ward off the occasional fly. The bucks were more alert, one of them pausing to rub his antlers against a small sapling, the faint scraping sound echoing in the still air, marking his territory with a quiet confidence. The yearlings bounded playfully, chasing each other in short bursts, one of them leaping over a patch of wildflowers, its hooves kicking up tiny droplets of dew that sparkled in the fading light. The fawns grew bolder, venturing a few steps away from their mothers, their small noses twitching as they sniffed the air, their small bodies trembling with the excitement of the evening.

    As they watched, Derreck’s hand tightened in hers, his voice soft but tinged with vulnerability. “Emma,” he began, his tone hesitant, “do you feel like I’m enough for you? I know this morning wasn’t good, I came too quickly, and I could tell you weren’t satisfied. I just… I don’t want you to feel like you’re missing something.”

    Emma turned to him, her heart aching at the uncertainty in his voice, and she squeezed his hand, her eyes meeting his with a fierce honesty. “Derreck,” she said, her voice firm but gentle, “you are enough for me. I love you, and I want us to be better together. This morning wasn’t about you not being enough, it’s about us needing to take the time to learn each other’s bodies, to understand what we need. I want you to please me, and I want to show you how. You just need to let things last longer, to explore me without rushing.”

    She paused, her gaze softening as she continued, her words direct but kind. “I enjoy sex, Derreck, but sometimes it feels like you treat it as something dirty, like you’re using me and don’t want to debase me by taking too long. I don’t feel that way, I want you to take your time, to worship my body, to let us both enjoy it fully. It’s not about abusing me, it’s about connecting with me.”

    Derreck’s eyes widened, a mix of relief and nervousness flickering across his face, and he nodded, his hand trembling slightly in hers. “I want that too,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I want to make you feel good, Emma. Show me how.”

    The deer moved off, their forms disappearing into the trees, their departure as graceful as their arrival, and Emma turned to Derreck, her confidence a stark contrast to his nervousness. She stood, pulling him to his feet, and began to undress, her movements slow and deliberate, her eyes never leaving his. She slipped the straps of her dress off her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground, leaving her naked in the fading light, her small breasts and neat pussy exposed to the warm evening air. Derreck hesitated, his hands fumbling as he followed her lead, pulling off his shirt and trousers, his body bare beside hers, his cock already stirring with arousal but his movements betraying his uncertainty.

    Emma stepped closer, her hands guiding his to her body, her voice soft but direct as she began to teach him. “I want to show you how to touch me,” she said, her fingers sliding down to her pussy, parting her lips to reveal her clit, already swollen with arousal. “Start here, with my clit. Use your fingers like this, light, circular motions, not too hard.” She demonstrated, her fingers moving in slow circles, her breath hitching as the pleasure began to build, her eyes locked on his to ensure he was watching.

    Derreck nodded, his fingers replacing hers, his touch tentative at first but growing more confident as she guided him. “Like this?” he asked, his voice a mix of nervousness and determination, and Emma moaned softly, her hips shifting to meet his touch.

    “Yes, just like that,” she said, her voice a sultry whisper. “Now, I want you to use your fingers inside me. Slide two fingers in here.” She guided his hand, positioning his fingers at her entrance, her pussy already wet with arousal. “Go slow at first, then curl them upward, toward my belly. You’re looking for a spot that feels a little rougher, a little different. That’s my G-spot.”

    Derreck followed her instructions, his fingers sliding into her with a slow, careful motion, her pussy clenching around him as he moved. Emma moaned, her hand resting on his wrist as she guided him, her voice direct and clear. “There, right there! You feel that? Now press against it, not too hard, just a steady pressure. And move your fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion, like you’re beckoning someone. Keep the pressure consistent, and don’t stop.”

    Derreck’s fingers curled, pressing against her G-spot with a steady pressure, his movements slow and deliberate as he followed her instructions, the motion sending sparks of pleasure through her. Emma’s moans grew louder, her hips rocking against his hand, the sensation building in waves as he found the rhythm she needed. “Yes, Derreck, that’s perfect,” she gasped, her voice trembling with pleasure. “Keep going, just like that.”

    She let him work her G-spot for a moment, her body trembling with the intensity of the sensation, before she spoke again, her voice a mix of need and encouragement. “Now, I want you to use your tongue on my clit at the same time. Lick me here,” she pointed to her clit, her fingers brushing it lightly “in slow circles, like you did with your fingers. Don’t be afraid to get messy, just keep the pressure light and steady.”

    Derreck hesitated, his nervousness evident in the way his hands trembled, but he leaned down, his breath hot against her pussy as he pressed his tongue to her clit. His first licks were clumsy, too fast and uneven, and Emma guided him with a gentle hand on his head, her voice patient but firm. “Slower, Derreck. Like this, circle it slowly, keep the pressure light. Don’t flick it too hard, just let your tongue glide over it, like you’re tasting me.”

    He adjusted, his tongue slowing, the circles becoming more deliberate, and Emma moaned, her hips bucking against his face as the pleasure intensified, the combination of his fingers on her G-spot and his tongue on her clit driving her closer to the edge. “Yes, that’s it,” she gasped, her voice breaking with need. “Don’t stop, Derreck, please don’t stop.”

    Her orgasm built quickly, a deep, rolling wave that started in her core and spread outward, her pussy clenching around his fingers as she came, her cries echoing through the clearing. The pleasure was strong, a release that left her trembling, her body shuddering against him as she rode out the waves, her hands tangling in his hair as she held him close. Derreck pulled back, his face flushed, his lips glistening with her juices, and Emma smiled, pulling him into a kiss, tasting herself on him as they shared the moment.

    They took a break, lying together on the grass, their bodies pressed close, their hands caressing each other as they talked, their voices soft in the quiet evening. “That was amazing,” Derreck said, his voice filled with wonder, and Emma nodded, her hand stroking his chest, her touch tender and loving.

    “You did so well,” she said, her voice warm with affection. “I just need you to take your time, to let us enjoy each other. It’s not about rushing, it’s about connecting.”

    They lay there for a while, their caresses gentle, their bodies still humming with the afterglow of her orgasm, the warmth of the August evening wrapping around them. But Emma wasn’t done teaching him, and as she felt his cock harden against her thigh, she guided him into her, rolling onto her side so they could spoon, her back pressed to his chest, his cock positioned at her entrance.

    “Like this,” she said, her voice soft but direct, guiding his cock into her pussy with a slow, deliberate motion, the angle allowing him to fill her completely. “Move slowly at first, Derreck. Use your cock to stroke me here,” she guided his fingers to her G-spot, showing him the angle,“and let me use my fingers on my clit. I’m not degrading you or complaining by using my fingers, they’re here to worship your action, to make it even better for both of us.”

    Derreck nodded, his breath catching as he began to move, his thrusts slow and deep, his cock stroking her just right, with each movement, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through her. Emma’s fingers found her clit, rubbing in tight circles as he fucked her, the combination building her pleasure higher, her moans growing louder in the quiet clearing. She could hear his breath catch, a sign he was close, and she turned her head, her voice urgent. “Derreck, I can feel you’re close. Step back from release, try to last longer. I want to come with you.”

    He heeded her words, slowing his thrusts, his breath ragged as he fought to hold back, his hands gripping her hips as he focused on her pleasure. Emma’s fingers moved faster, her pussy clenching around him as her first orgasm hit, a deep, rolling wave that made her cry out, her body trembling against him. She came again soon after, the pleasure building more slowly this time, a longer, gentler wave that left her gasping, her pussy pulsing around him as he continued to thrust, his control impressive as he held back his own release.

    Finally, Derreck couldn’t hold back any longer, his thrusts growing erratic as he came, his hot cum filling her pussy as he groaned her name, his body shuddering against hers. They rested again, their bodies still pressed close, their hands caressing each other as they caught their breath, the warmth of the evening air soothing their sweat-dampened skin. To Derreck’s surprise, he felt himself harden again, his cock stirring against her thigh, and Emma smiled, rolling onto her back and pulling him on top of her.

    “Missionary this time,” she said, her voice a sultry whisper, guiding his cock into her pussy as he settled between her legs, his body covering hers. The sex was good, not as great as it had been with Richard, but far better than their usual, Derreck’s thrusts deep and steady, his eyes locked on hers as they moved together, their connection deepening with every movement. Emma came again, a soft, gentle orgasm that left her smiling, her hands stroking his back as he followed, his second release filling her pussy as he groaned, his body trembling with the intensity of it.

    They lay together in the grass, their bodies tangled, the stars beginning to appear in the indigo sky above them, the clearing quiet now that the deer had moved on. Emma felt a new hope blooming in her chest, a belief that she and Derreck could improve, that their sex life could become something more fulfilling. As they dressed, their movements slow and tender, she pondered finding some guidance for him online, perhaps articles or videos that could help him learn more about pleasing her, about taking his time, about connecting with her on a deeper level.

    They walked home slowly, hand in hand, the warm August night wrapping around them, their conversation soft and filled with promise. Emma felt a sense of closure, a chapter in her life coming to an end, and as they walked, she discreetly pulled out her phone, sending a text to Richard: “Thanks, you were good for me.”

    Richard’s reply came quickly, his words affirming her decision: “You too, Emma. Take care.” The brevity of the message, unlike his normal rhyming texts, was clear, he knew their sexual encounters were over, a mutual understanding that closed the chapter of their affair, leaving Emma free to focus on her marriage, on the man she loved.

    As they reached the cottage, Derreck pulled her into a hug, his arms warm and familiar around her, and Emma smiled, her heart full of hope for the future, knowing that she and Derreck had taken the first step toward a deeper, more fulfilling connection, one that would grow with time and care.

  • Emma – 05 – Work of Desire

    A Morning of Unfulfilled Desire and a Workshop Reunion

    The morning sun streamed through the bedroom window of Emma’s Oxfordshire cottage, casting a warm golden glow over the rumpled sheets where she lay beside her husband, Derreck. It was a week after her dawn encounter with Richard in the woods, where they’d watched a herd of Roe deer and resumed their passionate lovemaking, and the memory of Richard’s thick, long cock and the way he’d fucked her against a tree still lingered in her mind, igniting a restless heat in her body. Her marriage to Derreck was loving, but it had never fully satisfied her sexual needs, a fact he accepted by allowing her occasional dalliances, and this morning, she woke with an ache between her legs that demanded attention.

    Emma stirred, her body already humming with arousal, the faint scent of sex still lingering in the air from the night before. She and Derreck had made love, a session that had given her a couple of orgasms but left her wanting more, her body craving the intensity she’d found with Richard. As she rolled onto her side, her hand brushed against Derreck’s cock, still soft in sleep, and she could smell herself on him, the musky scent of her arousal from their previous encounter sending a jolt of heat straight to her pussy. The memory of Richard’s touch, his scent, his cock, flooded her mind, and she couldn’t resist the urge to act.

    She slid her hand beneath the sheets, her fingers wrapping around Derreck’s cock, stroking him gently as she pressed her body closer to his. He stirred, a soft groan escaping his lips as he began to harden under her touch, his body responding even in the haze of sleep. Emma’s breath quickened, her pussy growing wet as she felt him grow in her hand, the familiar shape of him a contrast to the vivid memory of Richard’s larger, thicker cock. Derreck’s eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile spreading across his face as he registered her touch, his voice rough with sleep. “Morning, love,” he murmured, his hand reaching for her, but Emma was already moving, her need too urgent for words.

    She straddled him, her pussy slick with arousal as she positioned herself above him, her eyes shutting tight as she lowered herself onto his cock. Derreck groaned, his hands gripping her hips as she began to ride him, her movements slow and deliberate at first, her mind drifting to a scene in the woods with Richard, their first encounter, the rough bark of the tree against her back, the way his cock had filled her so completely. She imagined Richard’s hands on her, his deep voice growling her name, and her own hand slid between her legs, her fingers finding her clit as she rode Derreck, enhancing the sensation with quick, tight circles.

    The fantasy was vivid, the memory of Richard’s body, his scent, his touch, driving her closer to the edge, but Derreck’s groans grew louder, his back arching beneath her as he came far too quickly, his hot cum filling her pussy as he shuddered with release. Emma’s eyes snapped open, her body still teetering on the edge of orgasm, frustration washing over her as Derreck’s cock softened inside her. She rolled off him, her breath coming in short gasps, her pussy throbbing with unfulfilled need as he sat up, running a hand through his hair.

    “Sorry, love,” Derreck said, his voice sheepish as he leaned over to kiss her forehead. “You got me too worked up.” He slid out of bed, heading for the shower, and Emma lay there for a moment, her hands wandering down to her pussy, her fingers brushing her clit as she tried to finish what he’d started. But as her fingers moved, her mind drifted back to Richard, and she realized what, or who, she truly needed. She stopped, her hand falling away, a determined resolve settling over her as she heard the shower start.

    Emma waited until Derreck was finished, then took a quick shower herself, the hot water doing little to quell the heat in her body. She dried off, her skin still tingling with arousal, and pulled on a light summer dress, the same pale blue one with tiny white daisies she’d worn the first time with Richard, the memory of that day making her pussy clench with anticipation. She wore nothing beneath it, no bra, no knickers, the fabric clinging softly to her bare skin, her nipples already hard against the cotton. As Derreck left for work, giving her a quick kiss and a promise to be home for dinner, Emma grabbed her keys, her mind set on one destination: Richard’s workshop.

    The drive to Richard’s workshop was short, the morning sun warm against her skin as she parked outside the small, rustic building on the edge of town. Richard was a craftsman, his workshop a haven of wood and tools, the air always filled with the scent of sawdust and varnish. The door was unlocked, as it often was when he was working, and Emma let herself in, locking it behind her with a soft click, ensuring they wouldn’t be disturbed. The workshop was dimly lit, the morning light filtering through a small window, casting long shadows over the workbenches and shelves lined with tools.

    Richard looked up from his workbench, a piece of wood in his hands, his tall, six-foot-four frame filling the space. At 59, he was trim but fit, his body still strong, his hazel eyes lighting up with surprise and desire as he saw her. He opened his mouth to speak, but Emma crossed the room quickly, her bare feet silent on the wooden floor, and pressed her fingers to his lips, silencing his greeting. Her eyes locked on his, a silent command passing between them, and without a word, she reached for the hem of her dress, pulling it over her head and letting it fall to the floor, leaving her naked before him.

    Richard’s breath hitched, his eyes raking over her body, her small shapely breasts, her narrow hips, the neat triangle of her pussy, already glistening with arousal. He moved quickly, stripping off his shirt and trousers, his cock springing free, thick and hard, the foreskin partially retracted to reveal the glistening tip. Emma stepped closer, her hands reaching for him, and they came together in a frenzy of need, their lips crashing in a hungry kiss as their bodies pressed close, the scent of sawdust and their arousal filling the air.

    Richard lifted her onto the workbench, the wood cool and rough against her ass, and entered her with a hard, desperate thrust, his cock filling her completely. Emma moaned, her legs wrapping around his waist as he fucked her, his movements fast and forceful, the workbench creaking beneath them. The intensity was overwhelming, the roughness of his thrusts exactly what she needed, and she came hard, her pussy clenching around him as waves of pleasure crashed through her, her cries echoing in the small workshop. Her orgasm was incredible, a release so powerful it left her trembling, her nails digging into his shoulders as she rode out the waves, her body shuddering against him.

    But they weren’t done. Richard slowed his pace, his thrusts becoming more deliberate, more sensual, as he pulled her off the workbench and turned her around, bending her over the edge. He entered her from behind, his cock sliding into her pussy with a slow, deep thrust, the angle perfect for hitting her G-spot. Emma moaned, her hands gripping the edge of the workbench, the wood digging into her palms as he fucked her, his movements now slow and measured, drawing out her pleasure. Her orgasms came more slowly this time, longer and less intense but deeply satisfying, each one rolling through her like a gentle wave, her pussy clenching around him as she moaned his name.

    They moved through different positions, their bodies finding a rhythm that was both passionate and intimate. Richard sat on a stool, pulling her into his lap, her legs straddling his hips as she rode him, her hands braced on his shoulders, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. He lay her down on a pile of soft wood shavings, the scent of pine surrounding them as he fucked her missionary style, his eyes locked on hers, their connection deepening with every movement. They stood again, her back against a wall, one leg lifted over his shoulder as he thrust into her, the angle allowing him to go even deeper, her moans growing louder with each thrust.

    For hours, they fucked, their bodies slick with sweat, the workshop filled with the sounds of their pleasure, the creak of the workbench, the soft thud of their bodies, their moans and gasps mingling with the scent of wood and sex. Emma’s orgasms came one after another, each one leaving her more sated, her pussy soaked and sore in the best way, the ache a delicious reminder of their passion. Richard came too, his hot cum filling her pussy as he groaned her name, his body shuddering against hers as they collapsed together on the floor, their limbs tangled, their breaths heavy in the quiet space.

    Emma lay in his arms, her body spent, her pussy throbbing with a satisfied ache, the scent of sawdust and their arousal heavy around them. She felt a deep contentment, her needs fulfilled in a way Derreck could never manage, and she knew this wouldn’t be the last time she sought out Richard. She stood slowly, her legs shaky, and pulled on her dress, the fabric clinging to her sweat-dampened skin, her pussy still slick with their combined juices. Richard watched her, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and tenderness, and she leaned down to kiss him, a soft, lingering kiss that promised more to come.

    She left the workshop, locking the door behind her, the morning sun warm against her skin as she walked back to her car, her body sore but sated, her mind already drifting to the next time she’d see Richard, the man who had awakened a passion in her she couldn’t ignore.

    Emma – New Chapter

  • Emma – 03 – Logging Bats

    A Summer Night’s Survey and a Hidden Passion

    Four weeks had passed since Emma and Richard’s last encounter at her cottage, and the memory of his skilled hands, his talented tongue, and his thick, cock still sent shivers through her body whenever she thought of him. Derreck’s unspoken acceptance of her occasional dalliances gave her the freedom to explore, and Richard had become a fixation, a man who fulfilled her in ways she hadn’t thought possible.

    It was a warm August evening in rural Oxfordshire, the sky a deep sapphire as the last traces of daylight faded, the air heavy with the scent of blooming wildflowers and freshly cut hay. Emma and Richard were working together again, this time on a bat survey for the same conservation project that had brought them together. They stood in a narrow country lane, flanked by dense hedgerows and rolling fields, their bat detector a small, handheld device, emitting faint clicks as it picked up the ultrasonic calls of bats flitting overhead. Emma wore a light jacket over a thin cotton blouse and a skirt that swished around her knees, her body bare beneath save for a pair of panties, the warm air caressing her skin and making her nipples harden against the fabric. Richard, at 59, stood tall at six foot four, his trim frame clad in a short-sleeved shirt and trousers, his cock already stirring in his pants at the sight of Emma in the soft twilight.

    The lane was quiet, save for the hum of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Emma held the bat detector, her eyes scanning the sky as she listened to the clicks, noting the frequency to identify the species. “That’s a common pipistrelle,” she said, her voice soft but tinged with excitement. She glanced at Richard, her lips curving into a smile. “Forty-five kilohertz, right?”

    Richard nodded, stepping closer to check the device’s display. “Spot on,” he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. His hand brushed hers as he adjusted the detector, and the contact, however brief, sent a jolt of heat through her. She looked up at him, her hazel eyes meeting his brown ones, and saw the same desire mirrored there, a hunger that had been building between them all evening.

    They’d been professional for most of the survey, focusing on their task, logging the bat activity in a notebook Richard carried in his rucksack. But the tension between them had been simmering beneath the surface, a palpable energy that made every glance, every touch, feel electric. Emma’s mind kept drifting to their previous encounters, the woodland in July, the massage at her cottage and her body ached for him, her pussy already growing wet at the thought of his touch. The warmth of the August evening only heightened her arousal, the balmy air making her skin feel alive, her senses heightened by the scent of summer around them.

    Richard must have sensed it too, because he stepped even closer, his tall frame looming over her as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You’re distracting me,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin, carrying the faint scent of mint from the gum he’d been chewing. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

    Emma’s breath hitched, her body responding instantly to his words. She turned to face him, their bodies now mere inches apart, the bat detector forgotten in her hand. “Then don’t,” she whispered back, her voice a sultry invitation. She reached up, her fingers brushing his cheek, feeling the slight stubble there, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

    Richard’s hands found her waist, pulling her against him as his lips crashed down on hers in a hungry kiss. Emma moaned softly into his mouth, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pressed herself closer, the bat detector slipping from her hand to dangle from its strap around her wrist. His tongue teased hers, the kiss deepening as their bodies molded together, the heat between them igniting like wildfire in the warm summer air. She could feel his cock hardening against her stomach, the thick outline pressing through his trousers, and her pussy clenched with need, her panties already damp with arousal.

    They stumbled backward, their lips still locked, until they reached the hedgerow lining the lane. The dense branches and leaves, lush with summer growth, formed a natural barrier, and Richard guided her through a small gap, the foliage brushing softly against their clothes as they slipped into the shadows on the other side. They were in a small clearing, a patch of grass bordered by the hedge and a field beyond, the twilight providing a sense of privacy despite the proximity to the lane. The air was warmer here, the scent of earth and wildflowers stronger, and Emma felt a thrill run through her at the thought of being so exposed yet hidden, the summer night wrapping around them like a cocoon.

    Richard’s hands were on her again, pulling her jacket off and tossing it aside, his fingers deftly lifting her skirt to reveal her thighs. Emma kicked off her sandals, helping him push her skirt up around her waist, her blouse clinging to her skin with a light sheen of sweat from the warm evening. Richard’s hands slid under her blouse, lifting it over her head, and she sighed as the balmy air kissed her bare skin, her nipples hardening instantly. He groaned at the sight of her, his hands cupping her small breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples as he kissed her again, his lips trailing down her neck to her collarbone, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

    Emma’s hands were just as eager, fumbling with his shirt and trousers, pulling them down to free his cock. It sprang out, thick and hard, the foreskin partially retracted to reveal the glistening tip, and she moaned at the sight of it, her pussy throbbing with anticipation. Richard kicked off his shoes and trousers, his shirt following quickly, until he stood naked before her, his tall, trim body illuminated by the faint twilight glow filtering through the hedge, his skin warm from the summer heat.

    They sank to the ground together, the grass warm and slightly dewy beneath them, the scent of it mingling with the wildflowers that dotted the clearing. Richard pulled her into his lap, her legs straddling his hips, and Emma’s panties were still on, but they were soaked through, the fabric clinging to her pussy lips. Richard groaned as he felt her wetness against his cock, his hands gripping her hips as he kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth with a hunger that made her dizzy. The warmth of the August night enveloped them, the air thick with the hum of insects and the distant song of a nightingale, adding a primal rhythm to their movements.

    He slipped a hand between them, his fingers brushing her clit through the fabric of her panties, and Emma gasped, her hips bucking against his touch. “You’re so wet for me,” he growled, his voice rough with desire, and she nodded, her breath coming in short gasps, the heat of the night making her feel flushed and alive. He pulled her panties aside, his fingers sliding into her with ease, her pussy slick and ready for him. Emma moaned, her head tipping back as he fingered her, his movements slow and deliberate, his thumb circling her clit while his fingers curled inside her, pressing against her G-spot. The pleasure was intense, building quickly in the warm air, and she rocked her hips against his hand, chasing the release she knew was coming. But Richard had other plans.

    He pulled his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth to taste her, his eyes locked on hers as he licked her juices from his skin, the act so intimate it made her pussy clench. “I need you,” he said, his voice a low growl, and Emma nodded, her hands guiding his cock to her entrance. She sank down onto him, her pussy stretching around his thickness, the sensation exquisite as he filled her completely in the warm summer night. They both moaned, their bodies trembling with the intensity of it, and Emma began to move, her hips rocking in a slow, deliberate rhythm, the grass beneath them tickling her knees.

    Richard’s hands gripped her hips, guiding her movements, his thrusts meeting hers as they fucked, their bodies moving in perfect sync. The warmth of the August evening made their skin slick with sweat, the air heavy with the scent of their arousal, and Emma felt a primal thrill at the thought of being so exposed, the hedge their only shield from the lane beyond. She came quickly, her pussy clenching around him, her cries muffled against his shoulder as waves of pleasure crashed through her, intensified by the balmy night air. Richard groaned, his thrusts growing faster, deeper, as he chased his own release, but before he could reach it, a sound from the lane made them freeze.

    Voices, low, authoritative, and approaching, cut through the night air, accompanied by the faint crunch of footsteps on gravel. Emma’s heart leapt into her throat, her body tensing as she realized what was happening. Richard’s hands tightened on her hips, his cock still buried inside her, and he whispered urgently, “Police.”

    They moved quickly, their movements frantic but silent as they disentangled themselves. Emma’s pussy felt empty without him, a dull ache of frustration replacing the pleasure as she scrambled for her clothes, the warm air now feeling cooler against her sweat-dampened skin. Richard pulled his trousers and shirt on, his cock still hard and straining against the fabric, while Emma tugged her blouse and skirt back into place, her panties still damp and clinging to her skin. They shoved their jackets on last, smoothing their hair and trying to look as composed as possible, just as the beam of a flashlight pierced through the hedge.

    “Anyone there?” a gruff voice called, the tone laced with suspicion. Two police officers stood on the lane, their dark uniforms barely visible in the dim light, their flashlights sweeping the area. Emma and Richard stepped through the gap in the hedge, their expressions carefully neutral, though Emma’s cheeks were flushed from both the heat and their interrupted passion, her breath still coming in short gasps.

    The officers, a burly man in his forties and a younger woman with sharp eyes, looked them over, their gazes lingering on the disheveled state of their clothes and the faint sheen of sweat on their skin. “We got a call from a neighbor,” the man said, his tone clipped. “Said they saw strangers lurking in the lane. What are you doing out here?”

    Richard held up the bat detector, his voice calm despite the adrenaline coursing through him. “We’re with a local conservation group,” he explained, gesturing to the device. “Surveying bats. We’ve got logs to show you.” He reached into his rucksack, pulling out the notebook and handing it to the officer, who flipped through it with a skeptical eye, the warm August air carrying the faint scent of honeysuckle as he did.

    Emma forced a smile, her heart still racing, the lingering heat between her legs making it hard to focus, the warmth of the night adding to her flushed state. “We didn’t mean to cause any alarm,” she said, her voice steady despite the circumstances. “We’ve been out here for a couple of hours, recording bat activity.”

    The female officer shone her flashlight on the detector, then back at Emma and Richard, her expression softening slightly but still tinged with suspicion. “You’re lucky we didn’t find you doing anything else,” she said, her tone pointed, and Emma felt her cheeks heat further, certain the officers could guess what had been happening, especially given the warmth of the evening and their slightly disheveled appearance. The male officer handed the notebook back, his gaze flicking between them. “Looks legitimate,” he said gruffly. “But you should be wearing high-vis vests on these dark lanes, even in summer. It’s not safe otherwise.”

    “We’ll make sure to do that next time,” Richard said, his voice polite but firm, his hand brushing Emma’s arm reassuringly. “Thank you for the advice.”

    The officers nodded, their flashlights sweeping the lane one last time before they turned to leave. “Stay safe,” the woman said over her shoulder, and then they were gone, their footsteps fading as they resumed their patrol, the warm night air settling back into stillness. Emma let out a shaky breath, her body still trembling with a mix of adrenaline and unfulfilled desire, and Richard chuckled softly, pulling her close, his hands warm against her skin.

    “That was close,” he murmured, his lips brushing her forehead, the warmth of his breath mingling with the summer air. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

    Emma’s pussy clenched at his words, her arousal flaring back to life, the heat of the August evening making her feel even more alive. “Neither am I,” she whispered, her hands sliding up his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt. They waited a few minutes, ensuring the police were well out of earshot, the crickets resuming their song around them, before slipping back through the hedge into the clearing. The grass was still warm where they’d been, the air still heavy with the scent of their arousal, and Emma felt a thrill run through her at the thought of resuming where they’d left off, the summer night urging them on.

    Richard pulled her into his arms, his lips finding hers in a hungry kiss, the warmth of his mouth a contrast to the cooling air, and they sank back to the ground, their clothes coming off more quickly this time. Emma stripped down to her panties again, her blouse and skirt discarded in a heap, the grass tickling her bare skin, while Richard shed his shirt and trousers, his cock springing free, still hard and ready for her, glistening with a faint sheen of sweat from the warm night. They didn’t bother with foreplay this time, their need too urgent, the heat of the evening amplifying their desire, and Emma straddled him again, her panties pulled aside as she sank down onto his cock, her pussy stretching around him with a delicious ache, the warmth of their bodies merging with the summer air.

    They fucked with a renewed intensity, the interruption only heightening their desire, their bodies moving together in a desperate rhythm, the grass beneath them warm and slightly dewy from the evening’s humidity. Emma’s hips rocked against him, her clit grinding against his pelvis with every thrust, the heat of the night making their skin slick with sweat, and she came again, her pussy clenching around him as waves of pleasure crashed through her, intensified by the balmy air. Richard followed soon after, his hands gripping her hips as he thrust up into her, his hot cum filling her pussy as he groaned her name, the sound mingling with the nightingale’s song in the distance.

    They collapsed together on the grass, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths mingling in the warm August air, the scent of wildflowers and their arousal heavy around them. Emma lay in Richard’s arms, her head resting on his chest, the bat detector forgotten beside them, its faint clicks a reminder of the task they’d abandoned. The night stretched on, the stars above them a silent witness to their passion, the warmth of the summer evening wrapping them in its embrace, and Emma knew this wouldn’t be the last time they found themselves tangled together, their desire for each other as endless as the August sky.

    Emma – 04 – Dawn and Deer

  • Emma – 04 – Dawn and Deer

    Dawn in the Woods: Deer and Desire

    The first light of dawn crept through the canopy of the Oxfordshire woods, casting a soft, golden glow over the forest floor. Emma and Richard had spent the night in the woods after their bat survey, their bodies tangled together on a blanket under the stars, the warm August air lulling them into a light, dream-filled snooze. They’d woken intermittently, their hands roaming each other’s bodies, but exhaustion from their late-night activities had kept them from doing more than sharing soft kisses and whispered words. Now, as the sky began to lighten, the air was cool and fresh, carrying the scent of dew-kissed leaves and the faint musk of the earth.

    Emma stirred first, her body still bare beneath the blanket, her skin warm from Richard’s proximity. She sat up, the blanket slipping down to reveal her breasts, her nipples hardening in the cool morning air. Richard stirred beside her, his brown eyes blinking open, a slow smile spreading across his face as he took in the sight of her in the dawn light. “Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep, and Emma leaned down to kiss him, her lips soft against his, the taste of him familiar and intoxicating.

    “Morning,” she whispered back, her hand sliding down his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. “We should go look for those deer. They’re often seen at dawn in that clearing we talked about.”

    Richard nodded, his hand brushing her hair back from her face, his touch tender but laced with the same desire that had been simmering between them all night. They dressed quickly, pulling on their clothes from the previous evening, Emma in her thin blouse, skirt, and panties, Richard in his shirt and trousers, but they left their jackets and shoes behind, the grass soft and warm beneath their bare feet. They grabbed their cameras, small digital devices they’d brought for the conservation project, and set off through the woods, the dawn light guiding their way.

    The clearing was a short walk away, a wide, open space surrounded by dense trees and underbrush, known to be a regular haunt for a herd of Roe deer. The air was still, the only sounds the soft rustle of leaves and the distant call of a wood pigeon, the forest waking slowly around them. Emma and Richard moved quietly, their steps careful to avoid snapping twigs, their eyes scanning the clearing as they approached. They crouched behind a cluster of ferns at the edge of the clearing, the fronds providing a natural screen, and waited, their cameras at the ready.

    The dawn light painted the clearing in shades of gold and pink, the grass shimmering with dew, the air alive with the hum of insects beginning their day. Emma’s heart raced, not just from the anticipation of seeing the deer, but from the proximity of Richard, his body pressed close to hers, his breath warm against her neck. She could feel the heat of him, the faint scent of his skin mingling with the earthy aroma of the woods, and her body responded, her pussy growing wet with a familiar ache.

    Richard’s hand found hers, his fingers intertwining with hers as they waited, but the tension between them was too much to ignore. He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear, and whispered, “I can’t stop thinking about you.” His voice was a low growl, sending a shiver down her spine, and Emma turned to him, her lips finding his in a hungry kiss.

    The kiss deepened quickly, their tongues tangling as their hands roamed, the cameras forgotten in their laps. Emma’s hands slid under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin, while Richard’s fingers deftly unbuttoned her blouse, pushing it off her shoulders to bare her breasts to the cool morning air. She moaned softly into his mouth, her nipples hardening as his thumbs brushed over them, the sensation sending a jolt of heat straight to her pussy.

    They moved quickly, their need too urgent to wait, the dawn light casting long shadows around them. Emma stood, pulling her skirt up around her waist and slipping her panties off, the fabric damp with her arousal. Richard shed his trousers and shirt, his cock springing free, thick and hard, the foreskin partially retracted to reveal the glistening tip. He stepped behind her, his hands gripping her hips as she bent forward, bracing her hands against a nearby tree, her ass lifted in invitation.

    Richard entered her from behind, his cock sliding into her pussy with a slow, deliberate thrust, the angle perfect for filling her completely. Emma moaned, her voice soft but echoing in the quiet woods, the sensation of him stretching her exquisite in the early morning light. He began to move, his thrusts deep and steady, his hands gripping her hips as he fucked her standing doggy style, the tree bark rough against her palms. The warmth of the August morning wrapped around them, the air heavy with the scent of their arousal, and Emma felt a primal thrill at the thought of being so exposed, the clearing their only shield from the world beyond.

    She was close to coming, her pussy clenching around him, the pleasure building in waves, when a movement at the edge of the clearing caught her eye. A Roe deer stepped into view, its slender legs moving gracefully, its coat a rich reddish-brown that glowed in the dawn light. Emma’s breath caught, her body tensing, and she pulled away from Richard, her pussy feeling empty without him as she grabbed her camera, her voice a frantic whisper. “Richard, look a deer!”

    Richard groaned softly, his cock throbbing with need, but he followed her lead, grabbing his camera as they moved closer to the ferns, their naked bodies crouching low to avoid startling the deer. More deer emerged from the trees, a herd of eleven Roe deer of different ages, adults, yearlings, and fawns, grazing and moving through the clearing with a quiet grace that took Emma’s breath away. They clicked their cameras, capturing the moment, their nakedness forgotten in the wonder of the scene before them.

    The herd consisted of three adult does, their coats sleek and glossy, their movements calm and deliberate as they nibbled at the grass, their large, dark eyes scanning the clearing for any sign of danger. Two adult bucks followed, their antlers small but elegant, covered in velvet, a sign of the late summer season. The bucks moved with a quiet confidence, occasionally lifting their heads to sniff the air, their ears twitching at the faintest sound. Four yearlings, their coats a slightly lighter shade, stayed close to the does, their movements more playful, darting between the adults as they explored the clearing. Two fawns, born earlier in the summer, trailed behind, their spotted coats blending with the dappled light, their steps tentative but curious, their small ears flicking as they took in the world around them.

    Emma watched in awe, her camera clicking softly as she captured the herd’s behavior, her heart swelling with wonder at the sight. The does grazed methodically, their teeth tearing at the grass with a soft, rhythmic sound, their tails flicking occasionally to ward off flies. The bucks were more alert, one of them pausing to rub his antlers against a small sapling, marking his territory with a faint scraping sound that echoed in the still air. The yearlings bounded playfully, chasing each other in short bursts, their hooves barely making a sound on the soft grass, their energy a stark contrast to the calm of the adults. The fawns stayed close to their mothers, nibbling at the grass but often pausing to look around, their large eyes wide with curiosity, their small bodies trembling with the excitement of the new day.

    Richard’s hand found hers again, his fingers squeezing gently as they shared the moment, their naked bodies pressed close in the ferns, the warmth of the dawn light bathing them in a golden glow. “They’re incredible,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe, and Emma nodded, her eyes never leaving the deer, her camera clicking as she captured a fawn taking a tentative step away from its mother, its small nose twitching as it sniffed the air.

    For an hour, they watched the herd, their cameras documenting every movement, their wonder growing with each passing minute. The deer moved through the clearing with a quiet grace, their behavior a perfect blend of caution and curiosity, their presence a reminder of the wild beauty of the world around them. The bucks occasionally let out soft grunts, communicating with the does, while the yearlings continued their playful antics, one of them leaping over a small patch of wildflowers, its hooves kicking up tiny droplets of dew that sparkled in the light. The fawns grew bolder, venturing a few steps away from their mothers, their spotted coats glowing in the dawn, their small tails flicking with excitement.

    As the sun rose higher, the deer began to move off, their forms disappearing into the trees on the far side of the clearing, their departure as graceful as their arrival. Emma lowered her camera, her heart still racing with the thrill of the sighting, and turned to Richard, her eyes bright with excitement. “That was amazing,” she said, her voice soft but filled with emotion, and he nodded, his own camera lowering as he smiled at her, his expression mirroring her wonder.

    But as their eyes met, the tension between them flared back to life, the memory of their interrupted passion rushing back. Emma’s gaze dropped to his cock, still hard and jutting out from his body, the sight of it making her pussy clench with need. “You’re still hard,” she murmured, her voice a sultry whisper, and Richard chuckled, his hands reaching for her as he pulled her close.

    “I can’t help it,” he growled, his lips brushing hers. “You do this to me.”

    They moved back into the trees, the ferns providing a natural screen as they returned to their blanket, their naked bodies warm in the dawn light. Emma bent forward again, bracing her hands against the same tree, her ass lifted in invitation, and Richard stepped behind her, his hands gripping her hips as he entered her, his cock sliding into her pussy with a slow, deliberate thrust. The sensation was exquisite, her pussy still slick from their earlier encounter, and they both moaned, their voices soft but echoing in the quiet woods.

    Richard resumed his rhythm, his thrusts deep and steady, his hands gripping her hips as he fucked her standing doggy style, the tree bark rough against her palms. The warmth of the August morning wrapped around them, the air heavy with the scent of their arousal, the memory of the deer adding a primal edge to their passion. Emma came quickly, her pussy clenching around him, her cries muffled against her arm as waves of pleasure crashed through her, intensified by the beauty of the morning. Richard followed soon after, his hands tightening on her hips as he thrust deep, his hot cum filling her pussy as he groaned her name, the sound mingling with the soft rustle of leaves around them.

    They collapsed together on the blanket, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths mingling in the warm dawn air, the scent of the woods and their arousal heavy around them. Emma lay in Richard’s arms, her head resting on his chest, the memory of the deer and their shared passion filling her with a deep satisfaction. The sun continued to rise, the golden light filtering through the trees, and Emma knew this moment, like the others they’d shared, would stay with her forever, a testament to the wild beauty of both nature and their desire.

    Emma – 05 – Work of Desire

  • Emma – 02 – A Massage to Remember

    The morning sun filtered through the lace curtains of Emma’s Oxfordshire cottage, casting delicate patterns on the hardwood floor of her bedroom. It was the day after her encounter with Richard in the woodland, and her body still hummed with the memory of their passionate hours together. She’d woken with a lingering ache between her legs, a delicious reminder of Richard’s thick, cock and the way he’d filled her so completely. Her husband, Derreck, was still away for work, not due back for a few days, and the freedom of his absence allowed her to revel in the afterglow of her indiscretion.

    Emma had just finished a light breakfast of toast and tea when the doorbell rang, a soft chime that echoed through the quiet house. She smoothed her hands over the simple cotton robe she wore, the fabric clinging to her bare skin, she hadn’t bothered with underwear, her body still craving the freedom of being unencumbered after yesterday’s escapades. Her chestnut hair was loose, tumbling over her shoulders, and her skin glowed with a post-coital radiance that made her feel more alive than she had in months.

    She opened the door to find Richard standing on her doorstep, his tall frame filling the space. He wore a fitted t-shirt and loose trousers, the outline of his impressive cock already faintly visible through the fabric. His brown eyes met hers, a spark of recognition and desire flaring between them, and Emma felt her pulse quicken.

    “Morning,” Richard said, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. He held up a small bag, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “I thought you might be a bit sore after yesterday. Brought some massage oil, thought I’d give you a massage to remember.”

    Emma’s smile widened, her body already responding to the promise in his words. “That sounds perfect,” she said, stepping aside to let him in. “Come in.”

    She led him through the cottage, the scent of lavender from a diffuser filling the air, and up the stairs to her bedroom. The room was softly lit, the curtains still drawn to let in just enough light to create a warm, intimate atmosphere. The bed was unmade, the sheets rumpled from her restless sleep, and Emma gestured to it with a casual wave. “I’ll grab a towel,” she said, her voice light but laced with anticipation. “Make yourself comfortable.”

    Richard set his bag on the bedside table, pulling out a bottle of massage oil and a small speaker that began to play soft, ambient music, a gentle melody that filled the room with a calming energy. Emma returned with a large, fluffy towel, spreading it over the bed before turning to him. She untied her robe, letting it slip from her shoulders to pool at her feet, revealing her naked body. Her small breasts, tipped with rosy nipples, stood pert in the cool air, and the neat triangle of her pussy glistened faintly with the first stirrings of arousal. Richard’s eyes darkened as he took her in, his gaze lingering on her curves, her skin, the way her body seemed to glow in the soft light.

    “You’re stunning,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. He began to undress, pulling his t-shirt over his head to reveal a chest dusted with graying hair, his body still fit and strong. He kicked off his trousers, his cock springing free, already half-hard and as impressive as she remembered, thick, uncut, and long. Emma’s breath caught at the sight of him, her pussy clenching with need, but she forced herself to focus on the massage. She wanted to savor this, to let the anticipation build.

    “Lie down on your stomach,” Richard said, his tone gentle but firm. Emma complied, stretching out on the towel, her arms resting by her sides, her cheek pressed against the soft fabric. She could feel the heat of his gaze on her as he moved to the side of the bed, the faint scent of the massage oil, sandalwood and citrus, filling the air as he poured some into his hands and rubbed them together to warm it.

    Richard started at her shoulders, his hands strong and sure as he kneaded the muscles there, working out the tension she hadn’t even realized she was carrying. His fingers were skilled, pressing into the knots with just the right amount of pressure, and Emma let out a soft sigh, her body relaxing under his touch. He moved down her back, his hands gliding over her skin, the oil making her feel slick and warm. He worked the muscles along her spine, his thumbs pressing into the small of her back, and Emma felt a wave of pleasure that was both soothing and arousing.

    “You’re good at this,” she murmured, her voice muffled against the towel. “Really good.”

    “I’ve had some practice,” Richard replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. His hands moved lower, kneading her glutes with a firm, steady pressure that made her moan softly. The sensation was exquisite, the line between therapeutic and sensual blurring as his fingers worked the muscles, his touch lingering just long enough to make her squirm. He moved down to her thighs, his hands gliding over the backs of her legs, his thumbs pressing into the sensitive spots just below her ass. Emma’s pussy throbbed with each touch, her arousal building as his hands moved closer to her most intimate place.

    Richard’s hands paused at the tops of her thighs, his fingers brushing the edges of her pussy lips, and Emma’s breath hitched. “Turn over,” he said, his voice low and husky, and she obeyed, rolling onto her back. Her breasts jiggled slightly as she settled, her nipples hard and aching, her pussy now fully exposed to him. Richard’s cock was fully hard now, jutting out from his body, the foreskin partially retracted to reveal the glistening tip, but he made no move to touch himself, his focus entirely on her.

    He poured more oil into his hands, starting at her shoulders again, his touch lighter now, more sensual. He massaged her collarbone, his fingers brushing the tops of her breasts, and Emma’s breath quickened, her body arching slightly into his touch. He moved to her arms, kneading the muscles there, his hands gliding down to her wrists and back up, the oil making her skin glisten in the soft light. When he finally reached her breasts, his touch was gentle, almost reverent, his hands cupping them as his thumbs brushed over her nipples. Emma moaned, her hips shifting on the bed, her pussy growing wetter with each passing second.

    Richard’s hands moved down her stomach, his fingers tracing the dip of her navel, the curve of her hips, before settling on her thighs. He massaged the fronts of her legs, his hands working the muscles with the same skill he’d shown before, but now his touch was more deliberate, more teasing. His fingers brushed the edges of her pussy again, and Emma whimpered, her legs parting slightly in invitation.

    He didn’t make her wait long. Richard’s fingers slid between her thighs, brushing against her pussy lips, and Emma gasped, her hips lifting off the bed. Her outer lips were slick with arousal, her inner lips peeking through, throbbing with need, and Richard took his time, his touch light and exploratory. He traced the outline of her pussy, his fingers gliding over her lips, teasing her entrance without entering her. “You’re so wet,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “So ready for me.”

    Emma moaned, her hands gripping the towel beneath her as his fingers continued their slow exploration. He parted her lips gently, his thumb brushing over her clit, and the sensation was electric, a jolt of pleasure that made her cry out. He circled her clit with his thumb, his touch light but firm, while his other fingers teased her entrance, dipping just inside before pulling back. Emma’s hips bucked, her body begging for more, and Richard obliged, sliding two fingers inside her with a slow, deliberate motion.

    Her pussy was tight, still slightly tender from yesterday, but so wet that his fingers slid in easily, her walls clenching around him. Richard curled his fingers, searching for her G-spot, and when he found it, Emma’s moan turned into a cry, her body trembling with the intensity of the sensation. He pressed against that sensitive spot, his fingers moving in a slow, rhythmic motion, while his thumb continued to circle her clit. The dual stimulation was overwhelming, the pleasure building in waves that made her head spin.

    “Richard,” she gasped, her voice trembling. “Oh, God, that feels so good.” Her hands reached for him, her fingers tangling in his hair as he leaned down, his breath hot against her pussy. He kissed her inner thighs, his lips soft and teasing, before moving to her pussy, his tongue flicking out to taste her. The first touch of his tongue on her clit made Emma cry out, her hips bucking against his face, and Richard groaned, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through her.

    He lapped at her clit, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles, while his fingers continued to work her G-spot, the combination driving her closer to the edge. Emma’s moans grew louder, her body trembling as the pleasure built, her pussy clenching around his fingers. Richard’s tongue was relentless, alternating between circling her clit and flicking it with quick, precise movements, while his fingers pressed harder against her G-spot, the pressure almost too much to bear.

    Emma’s orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, her pussy clenching around his fingers as she came, her cries echoing through the room. Her body shuddered, her hips bucking against his face, and Richard didn’t stop, his tongue and fingers working her through the waves of pleasure until she was gasping for breath, her body limp on the bed. He pulled back slowly, his fingers sliding out of her, his lips pressing a final, tender kiss to her clit before he sat back, his cock throbbing with need.

    But he wasn’t done with her yet. Richard stood, his tall frame looming over her, his cock jutting out, hard and ready. Emma’s eyes locked on it, her pussy clenching with anticipation, and she rolled onto her stomach without being asked, her ass lifting slightly in invitation. Richard positioned himself behind her, his hands gripping her hips as he entered her, his cock sliding into her pussy with a slow, deliberate thrust.

    The angle was perfect, his cock filling her completely, the head brushing against her G-spot with every thrust. Emma moaned, her face pressed into the towel, her hands gripping the fabric as he fucked her, his movements deep and powerful. Richard’s hands roamed her back, his fingers tracing the curve of her spine, the dip of her waist, as he thrust into her, his pace quickening as his own pleasure built.

    Emma came again, her pussy clenching around him, her cries muffled against the towel as waves of pleasure crashed through her. Richard groaned, his thrusts growing erratic as he neared his own release, and with a final, deep thrust, he came, his hot cum filling her pussy as he shuddered above her. They collapsed together on the bed, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths mingling in the quiet room.

    As they lay there, tangled in each other, Emma felt a deep satisfaction, her body sated in a way she hadn’t thought possible. Richard’s hand stroked her hair, a tender gesture that made her smile, and she knew this wouldn’t be the last time they shared such a moment. The memory of his massage, his fingers, his tongue, and his cock would stay with her long after he was gone, a reminder of the passion they’d found in each other.

    Emma – 03 – Logging Bats

  • Selena – Van Encounter

    It was a crisp Tuesday evening, the school long since deserted, and Richard’s battered white van sat parked in the staff lot, its windows fogging up before they’d even started. He’d spent the day fixing a busted boiler, but his mind was on Selena’s promise: the back of his van, where no one could interrupt. She’d slipped out after her shift, trading her apron for a tight black sweater and a skirt so short it barely qualified as clothing. Her buxom chest strained the wool, and Richard’s cock twitched the moment she climbed in.

    “Nice ride,” Selena purred, shutting the van door with a thud. The back was a cluttered mess, tools, blankets, a rolled-up tarp, but she didn’t care. She shoved a toolbox aside and perched on a makeshift bench of plywood, legs spread just enough to flash red panties. Richard loomed in the cramped space, his height forcing him to duck slightly, his eyes dark with hunger. “It’s about to get nicer,” he growled, kicking off his boots and yanking his shirt over his head, revealing a chest dusted with dark hair.

    She didn’t wait for an invitation. Grabbing his belt, she tugged him closer, unzipping him with a practiced flick. His cock sprang free, thick and ready, and she licked her lips before taking him in her mouth. “Fuck, Selena,” he hissed, hands tangling in her hair as she sucked him deep, her tongue swirling around the tip. She hummed around him, the vibration making his knees buckle, and he braced one hand against the van’s wall. “You’re too bloody good at that.”

    Selena pulled back, a string of spit connecting her lips to his cock, and grinned. “Just warming you up, tall man.” She stood, peeling off her sweater to reveal no bra her heavy breasts bounced free, nipples peaked in the cool air. Richard groaned, spinning her around and bending her over the tarp-covered bench. “Gonna fuck you ‘til you scream,” he promised, hiking her skirt up and ripping her panties down to her ankles.

    He didn’t tease his cock slid into her dripping pussy in one hard thrust, stretching her wide. Selena moaned, loud and shameless, her hands scrabbling for purchase on the tarp. “Yes, right there!” she gasped as he slammed into her, his thick shaft grinding against her G-spot with every stroke. The van rocked slightly, creaking on its shocks, and Richard gripped her hips, pounding harder. “Tight little devil, aren’t you?” he grunted, one hand reaching around to squeeze her swaying tits.

    She pushed back against him, meeting his rhythm, her moans echoing in the metal box. “Harder, fuck me stupid!” she begged, and he delivered, his cock relentless, pressing that sweet spot until her legs shook. His fingers found her clit, rubbing fast, and she shattered, her orgasm hit like a tidal wave, her pussy clamping down as she screamed his name, “Richard, oh fuck, yes!” Juices dripped down her thighs, soaking the tarp, and he kept thrusting, dragging it out until she was a trembling mess.

    He wasn’t done. Flipping her onto her back across the bench, he spread her legs wide, hooking them over his shoulders. “My turn,” he rasped, plunging back in, her slick heat sucking him deep. Her tits jiggled with every thrust, and she clawed at his arms, still reeling from her climax. “You’re a fucking beast,” she panted, eyes glazed with lust. He smirked, leaning down to bite her nipple, then kissed her hard as he came, spilling inside her with a roar, his cock pulsing against her walls.

    They collapsed together, breathless, the van smelling of sex and sweat. Selena traced a finger down his chest, smirking. “Hope you’ve got good suspension, think we tested it.” Richard laughed, pulling her close. “Next time, your place. I want you on a proper bed, screaming louder.” She nipped his ear, already plotting. “Bring your tools, big man. I’ve got plenty to fix.”

  • Lynn & Louise – 02 – The Reunion

    Reunited

    Two weeks had passed since the dunes, and the memory of that afternoon still burned in my mind, Richard’s thick cock filling me, Louise’s hungry eyes, the salty air mingling with our gasps. We’d kept in touch on X, a private thread of flirty banter and Richard’s cheeky limericks, like, Three souls by the sea found their spark, in sand where desires disembark, with a wink and a grin, they’d soon meet again, for a night that would blaze in the dark. So here I was, mid-thirties, my rounded body hugged by a black dress that clung to my large breasts, stepping into a seaside restaurant. The date night was Richard’s idea a classy meal, then back to his hotel. Louise had agreed instantly, and I couldn’t say no.

    The place was upscale, all soft lighting and polished wood, the murmur of conversation blending with the clink of cutlery. Richard stood as I approached, tall and slim, his late fifties softened by a tailored blazer, his silver hair catching the glow. “Lynn, you’re a vision,” he said, his voice smooth and warm, that naughty edge lurking beneath. He pulled out my chair, ever the gentleman, though I knew what hid behind his polish.

    Louise arrived moments later, her tall, lean frame striking in a deep green dress, her small, shapely breasts subtly outlined. “Well, don’t we clean up nicely?” she teased, sliding into her seat beside Richard. He sat between us, a grin spreading as he poured wine.

    “Only the best for my muses,” he said, raising his glass. “To nights worth writing about, A trio once wild by the shore, now dine with a hunger for more…” He trailed off, winking, and we laughed, clinking glasses. The meal unfolded with ease, succulent seafood, rich sauces, the kind of food that felt indulgent. But the real feast was the tension simmering between us. Richard’s knee brushed mine under the table, deliberate and slow, while Louise’s fingers grazed his arm as she leaned in to whisper something that made him chuckle darkly.

    “You’re incorrigible,” I said, sipping my wine, feeling the heat rise in my chest.

    “Guilty,” he replied, leaning closer. “But you love it. Both of you do.”

    Louise smirked. “He’s not wrong. I’ve been thinking about that cove all week, your poetry wasn’t the only thing that stuck with me.”

    The flirtation escalated with dessert, a shared chocolate torte that left us licking spoons and trading loaded glances. By the time Richard suggested we head to his hotel, “A hot tub awaits, ladies”, my pulse was racing, my dress feeling tighter than ever.

    The Hotel Room

    The hotel was a short walk, the night air cool against my flushed skin. Richard’s room was a suite, spacious and modern, with a private balcony where a steaming hot tub bubbled under string lights. “Make yourselves at home,” he said, shedding his blazer with that casual grace I remembered. Louise and I exchanged a look, a silent agreement, and kicked off our heels.

    “Hot tub first?” Louise asked, already tugging at her dress. She stripped down to a black bra and panties, her slim body glowing in the soft light. I followed, peeling off my dress, my large breasts spilling free as I unhooked my bra, my neat pussy barely concealed by lace. Richard watched, his eyes dark with hunger, then pulled off his shirt and trousers, leaving his boxers. That thick, shaved cock pressed against the fabric, a promise we all recognized.

    “No need for modesty,” he said, sliding the boxers down. It sprang free, heavy and bold, just as I remembered. He stepped into the hot tub, the water swirling around his lean frame, and beckoned us in. “Join me, muses.”

    I hesitated, then shed the rest, my skin prickling as I sank into the heat. Louise did the same, her small breasts bobbing as she settled beside him. The water lapped at us, jets pulsing against my thighs, and Richard grinned. “Three bodies in steam reunite, a dance of the flesh in the night…” he murmured, his voice low.

    “Keep going,” I teased, splashing him lightly. “You’re good at this.”

    He laughed, pulling us closer, one arm around each of us. “Only because you inspire me.” His hands roamed, mine to my breast, squeezing gently, Louise’s to her hip, possessive. The water amplified every touch, slick and warm, and I felt my breath hitch.

    Louise leaned in, kissing his neck, then me, her lips soft and daring. “We should make this a night to remember,” she whispered, and I nodded, my hand finding Richard’s cock beneath the water. It was already stiffening, thick and heavy in my grip.

    “God, it feels even bigger like this,” I said, passing it to Louise. She took it eagerly, stroking slow.

    “Like a damn rod,” she agreed, her fingers curling around it. “Look how it throbs.”

    We played with him, hands sliding in unison, the water sloshing as he grew fully hard. “A scepter arises in haste, two hands give its glory a taste…” he groaned, half-laughing, and we silenced him with our mouths. I went first, ducking under the water to suck the tip, the heat and bubbles swirling around me as it swelled in my mouth. I surfaced, gasping, and Louise took her turn, her lips wrapping around him, then lower to his balls, sucking gently. We traded off, our mouths meeting along his length, tongues clashing in a wet, messy dance until he was rigid, pulsing, a marvel slick with water and spit.

    The Ecstasy

    Louise pulled back, water dripping from her chin. “Lynn, ride him. He’s begging for it.”

    I straddled him, the hot tub’s edge supporting my knees as I guided that massive cock to my entrance. The water made it slick, but my tight pussy still stretched deliciously as I sank down, inch by thick inch, until he was buried deep. “Fuck,” I gasped, the fullness overwhelming, a sweet ache that pulsed with every jet against my skin. His hands gripped my breasts, kneading hard, fingers pinching my nipples as I rocked, the water splashing around us. My own fingers found my clit, rubbing fast, the pleasure sharp and electric. Then I caught Louise’s eye watching, one hand between her thighs, and the thrill spiked, knowing she saw me unravel. I came hard, my walls clenching tight, a scream tearing free as the orgasm ripped through me, amplified by the heat and her gaze.

    Louise pushed me aside gently, claiming him next. She mounted him, her slim body rising and falling, water cascading off her small breasts as she rode. I watched, mesmerized, her moans sharp against the hum of the tub, her face contorted in bliss. Richard’s hands gripped her hips, guiding her, and he beckoned me with a grunt. “Lynn, here.”

    I straddled his face, lowering until his tongue plunged into me, hot and relentless. The water lapped at my thighs as he licked, sucking my clit with a hunger that made my legs shake. Louise’s rhythm faltered, her cry piercing the air as she came, her body shuddering before she slid off, panting against the tub’s edge.

    Richard didn’t pause. He lifted me off his face, maneuvering me onto all fours, my hands gripping the rim as water sloshed over us. He entered me from behind, that thick cock driving deep, the angle brutal and perfect. He fucked me hard, long thrusts that slapped against my arse, each one rattling my core. “A tempest of flesh in the steam…” he growled, mid-thrust, and I lost it, my pussy clamped down, milking him as I exploded, a raw, guttural scream escaping as the orgasm tore me apart. He grunted, pulling out, his cock pulsing as he sprayed my back with cum, hot and thick, mixing with the water dripping down my spine.

    We collapsed, breathless, the tub’s jets still bubbling around us. Louise laughed softly, trailing a finger through the water. “Better than the dunes.”

    Richard, spent, grinned. “A night in the foam, wild and free, a poem writ by you and me…” His voice was hoarse, but the spark in his eyes promised more verses, and more nights to come.

  • Lynn & Louise – 01 – Seal Watching

    The Pub

    The air in the pub buzzed with laughter and the clink of glasses, a warm hum of thirty voices mingling under the low wooden beams. It was a small seaside town, the kind where the salt lingered in the breeze, and tonight, it hosted an eclectic gathering of people who’d connected through #NSFW posts on X. About twenty-five women and fifteen men sprawled across tables littered with pint glasses and crisp packets. I sat near the center, my rounded frame tucked into a cushioned bench, acutely aware of my large breasts straining against my top. To my left was Richard, tall and slim, his late fifties showing in the silver at his temples but not in the spark of his eyes. He spoke with polished charm, every word measured yet laced with a naughty edge that made my pulse quicken. To his left sat Louise, late forties, tall and lean, her small, shapely breasts hinted at beneath a fitted blouse, her posture exuding quiet confidence.

    The group discussion swirled around us, raunchy tales of X posts, debates about boundaries, the thrill of the taboo, but Richard, Louise, and I had carved out our own little world. “You’ve got a wicked mind, Lynn,” Richard said, his voice low and teasing as he leaned closer, his knee brushing mine under the table. “Those posts of yours leave little to the imagination.”

    I grinned, heat creeping up my neck. “Takes one to know one, doesn’t it? Your captions are downright sinful, and those limericks you sneak in? Pure filth.”

    He chuckled, a deep, rich sound, and leaned back. “A poet’s soul, guilty as charged. How about this one: There once was a lass with a flair, whose posts left us all in a stare, with curves so divine, she’d make hearts align, and leave naughty thoughts in the air.” His eyes twinkled as he recited it, aimed squarely at me.

    Louise laughed, clapping lightly. “Oh, that’s brilliant, Richard. You’ve got her pegged. And that last photo you shared well, it’s a good thing this pub’s dimly lit, or we’d all see you blushing.”

    Richard shifted, his thigh pressing more firmly against mine. “I’ll take that as a compliment from both you lovely ladies. Poetry’s my other vice, keeps the mind sharp and the tongue… nimble.” His gaze flicked between us, bold and unapologetic, and I felt a shiver of anticipation. The flirtation was electric, a dance of words and glances that made the crowded room fade away.

    Needing a breather from the heat, I steered the conversation elsewhere. “Richard, you’re mad about wildlife, aren’t you? I’ve seen your posts almost as passionate as your verses.”

    His face lit up, the naughty glint softening into enthusiasm. “Oh, absolutely. There’s something primal about it, don’t you think? The raw beauty of nature, it is poetry in motion.”

    Louise leaned in, her eyes brightening. “I’m the same. Seals, especially, I could watch them for hours. They’re so graceful, yet wild.”

    “Seals?” I said, catching her drift. “Perfect timing, we’re right by the coast. Do they come near here?”

    Richard nodded, a conspiratorial grin spreading. “I know exactly where they are. Just a short walk, a little cove most miss. They bask there this time of year. I’ve even written about them, The seals by the shore weave a tale, of slick silver skin and a wail, in the surf they play free, a wild symphony, nature’s lust in each flip of their tail.”

    Louise stood abruptly, her voice cutting through the din. “Right, everyone! Richard, Lynn, and I are off to find some seals. Anyone joining us?” Her tone was light, but her eyes locked on ours, daring us. The group murmured, some laughing, others shaking their heads, none took the bait. It was just us three.

    As we wove toward the door, I caught Louise’s arm. “Was that invitation genuine, or…?” I let the question hang, my voice low.

    She smirked, her expression vague. “Depends on what you’re hoping for, Lynn.” Her wink left me wondering, my stomach fluttering as we stepped into the cool night air.

    The Dunes

    The walk to the cove was brisk, the sea’s whisper growing louder as we descended a narrow path between dunes. We settled on a small patch of sand, shielded by grassy mounds, and there they were seals, their sleek bodies glistening in the sun. We sat entranced, the world shrinking to the rhythmic slap of waves and their lazy barks. Richard murmured, almost to himself, “In sunlight they gleam like wet stone, a chorus of life all their own…” His voice trailed off, lost in the sight.

    After a few minutes, the seals slipped into the water, vanishing beneath the surface. Richard broke the spell. “They’ll be off feeding now. Won’t be back for a while.”

    Louise stretched, her long limbs catching the light. “This is a perfect spot to sunbathe, don’t you think?” She glanced at us, a silent challenge in her nod. I nodded back, my heart pounding, and Richard grinned, already tugging at his shirt.

    He stripped with casual ease, peeling off his clothes until he reached his boxers. Then, without hesitation, he slid them down, his large, thick cock springing free, freshly shaved, as I’d expected from his meticulous nature. It hung there, bold and unashamed, and he froze, suddenly sheepish as he glanced at us, still in our bras and knickers. “Sorry, ladies, I might’ve gone too far”

    “No, no,” I cut in, my voice eager. “You’ve got nothing to apologise for. It’s… impressive.”

    Louise nodded, her gaze lingering. “Very welcome, Richard. You’ve got a gorgeous body, don’t hide it.”

    “Really, it’s fine,” I added, catching Louise’s eye, our words weaving together. “Accepted, absolutely.”

    In sync, we shed our clothes. I felt the air kiss my skin, my large breasts swaying free, my neat pussy bare. Louise’s slim frame glowed beside me, her small breasts pert. Richard’s eyes widened, drinking us in, and he quipped, “Two sirens arise from the sand, with beauty no mortal withstands…” Before he could finish, we pushed him gently onto the blankets.

    He lay back, naked and sprawling, and we sat on either side of his hips, treating him like a sculpture. “Look at this,” I said, hushed as I studied his cock, thick and resting against his thigh. “It’s so… substantial.”

    Louise tilted her head, appraising. “Smooth, too. Perfectly shaped, almost too good to be real.”

    I reached out, wrapping my fingers around it. “God, it’s heavy,” I said, lifting it toward her. She took it eagerly, her slim hand testing its heft.

    “Solid,” she agreed, stroking it. “Feels like it’s waking up.”

    We toyed with him, passing it back and forth, marveling as it stiffened. It grew, thick and pulsing, and Richard murmured, “A rod rises proud in their grasp, two muses who tease and clasp…” We laughed, ignoring his verse as we continued. “Look how it curves,” I said, tracing its length. “Beautiful.”

    Louise teased the tip. “And responsive. He’s loving this.”

    I leaned down first, my lips brushing the head, tasting salt. It swelled in my mouth, stretching my lips. Louise dipped lower, sucking his balls, her tongue careful. His groans spurred us, and soon we were both at his cock, lips meeting along its length, tongues tangling until he was rock-hard, glistening.

    Louise pulled back, breathless. “Lynn, ride him. He’s ready.”

    I straddled his hips, guiding that massive cock to my entrance, my tight pussy aching as I sank down. The stretch was exquisite, filling me completely. His hands found my breasts, kneading them, thumbs flicking my nipples as I rocked. My fingers slipped to my clit, circling fast, pleasure building. Then I remembered Louise watching, eyes dark with lust and the thrill doubled. I came hard, clenching around him, a cry tearing free as waves crashed through me.

    The Finale

    Louise claimed him next, swinging a leg over his hips as I slid off, trembling. I watched, mesmerized, as she took him in, her slim body arching. Her small breasts bounced, her face twisting in ecstasy, and I couldn’t look away her pleasure was raw, magnetic. Richard, beneath her, muttered, “A dance of desire in the sun…” but his words dissolved into a groan.

    He beckoned me, husky. “Lynn, come here.” I straddled his face, lowering until his tongue found me. It was heaven, hot and insistent, lapping my clit as I gripped the blanket. Louise’s rhythm faltered as she came, a sharp cry escaping, and she flopped off, spent.

    Richard shifted me onto all fours, his hands firm on my hips. He entered me from behind, driving deep, relentless. He fucked me hard, long thrusts rattling my bones, each one pushing me closer. “A rhythm of flesh, wild and free…” he gasped, mid-thrust, and I exploded, my pussy clamping down, milking him. He grunted, pulling out, his cum spraying across my back, warm and thick, marking me as he collapsed.

    We lay tangled in the aftermath, the seals forgotten, the dunes our witnesses. Richard panted, “Three souls in the sand, undone…” and we laughed, too breathless to care. The sun dipped lower, and I knew this was a story beyond X but one I’d never forget.