Beneath the scroll of endless feeds, A corner glows with daring deeds, Where NSFW X unfurls its wings, A realm of raw and wondrous things. Not merely shadows cast in lust, But sparks of life, of grit, of trust, For those who post, for those who see, A mirror gleams with liberty.
The poster stands, a soul laid bare, A canvas bold, beyond compare. No mask to wear, no shame to flee, They craft their truth for all to see. A photo shared, a tale unbound, A whispered roar, a sacred sound, In lines of flesh or words that sing, They claim the crown of self-made king.
And those who read, who pause, who stay, Find light within the shades of gray. A stranger’s courage, fierce and free, Reflects their own humanity. It’s not the act, the skin, the thrill, But stories carved with iron will, A scar embraced, a flaw turned art, A bridge from screen to beating heart.
For some, it’s not the carnal flame, Though sex, when there, deserves its fame, Stupendous, wild, a primal cheer, A dance of joy that banishes fear. Yet often, no, it’s something more, A quiet knock on shame’s closed door. A body loved, though once reviled, A spirit free, a self reconciled.
The poster types, “This is my frame, My stretch, my curve, my chosen name.” And readers sigh, “I see me too, The me I hid, the me I grew.” A tattooed thigh, a laugh out loud, A quirky kink, a head unbowed, These gifts of X, both loud and sweet, Make broken souls feel more complete.
It’s laughter shared in quirky threads, It’s knowing eyes on late-night beds, It’s finding kin in strangest ways, Through NSFW’s unfiltered gaze. The one who posts, they bloom, they mend, The one who reads finds strength to bend, A cycle spun of give and take, A space where masks begin to break.
And when the heat does rise, oh my, The sex explodes beneath the sky, A symphony of want and play, A glorious romp in X’s sway. But even then, it’s more than skin, It’s trust, it’s power deep within, To own desire, to set it free, To shout, “This too is part of me.”
So here’s to NSFW X, A wild, weird world that often wrecks The walls we build, the lies we tell, The silent wars within our shell. For those who post, a chance to shine, For those who read, a lifeline fine, Not just a thrill, though thrills abound, But roots to grow on shaky ground.
In pixels bright or words that tease, A chorus forms of “I am these.” Acceptance weaves through every post, A haunting, healing, holy ghost. So let it glow, this strange delight, This NSFW X that burns so bright, A beacon for the lost, the shy, A place where souls refuse to die.
At 5:03 a.m., the world is still cloaked in the quiet of predawn, and she wakes with a rare, buoyant energy humming through her. It’s not the usual groggy stumble toward coffee that marks her weekdays, but something lighter, a flicker of self-assurance that pulls her from bed. The house is silent save for the soft, rhythmic snores of her husband, still lost in sleep. She doesn’t mind; this moment is hers alone. Padding across the room, she slides open her dresser drawer, fingers grazing over neatly folded sets of underwear. Her hand pauses on a particular one, black with lime green accents, a bra, knickers, hold-up stockings. a bold, playful combination, and as she lifts it out, she feels a quiet thrill. The lime green, vibrant and fresh, mirrors the season outside her window, where spring is just beginning to tease the earth with its first shoots of growth. It’s a color that speaks of renewal, and in her hands, it feels like a secret she’s about to claim.
She slips the set on, the fabric cool against her skin, and stands before the mirror. The contrast is striking. During the week, she’s the woman in overalls, managing a small team of engineers with a steady hand and a sharp mind. Her days are filled with problem-solving, grease-streaked blueprints, and the hum of machinery, a world where her competence, not her curves, defines her. But here, in the dim glow of her bedroom, the lingerie hugs her body, accentuating every line and dip. It’s not a rejection of the woman in overalls, but a different lens on her, a softer, sensual one that she rarely allows herself to linger in. She feels feminine, desirable, and powerfully herself, as if this quiet act of dressing up stitches together parts of her identity she keeps compartmentalized.
Her phone sits on the dresser, she sets it to timer mode. She experiments with poses, head tilted, hip cocked, a half-smile playing on her lips, until the shutter clicks on something that feels right. The images capture her in a way she doesn’t often see, not the manager, not the wife, but a woman reveling in her own skin. She uploads a few to X, the platform where she’s carved out a small, anonymous corner for herself. The replies roll in quickly, a mixed bag she’s come to expect. Some are short and crude, with no effort, “Bang it,” “Sxy,” and she skims past them with a smirk. A few come from men she admires, accounts whose wit or insight she’s followed for months, and their blunt appreciation makes her grin widen. But then there are the others, the creepy ones that linger too long on details, and those she skips entirely, a faint unease prickling her spine.
It’s the longer replies that draw her in. A man writes about the elegance of her pose, the way the green pops against the black, and she feels a warmth bloom in her chest. Another, from a woman, praises her confidence, the way she owns the frame, and it lands differently, less about desire, more about recognition. These words, from strangers who see only this sliver of her, amplify the feeling she’d chased when she chose the set from her drawer. They make her feel more feminine, more complete, as if their gaze validates something she’s only half-articulated to herself. She sips these compliments like a fine wine, letting them linger on her tongue, surprised by how much they matter.
The clock catches her eye, 6:45 a.m. and reality nudges her back. She slips out of the lingerie, folding it carefully before tucking it away, and pulls her nightie back on. Climbing into bed, she listens to her husband’s snores, steady and familiar. He hasn’t stirred, oblivious to her private ritual, and she’s glad for it. This wasn’t about him, not directly, though it circles back to him in a way she’s only now piecing together. She’s not seeking sex with another man, not chasing some illicit thrill. The online attention, the act of dressing up, the photos, it’s a spark she’s kindling for herself, a way to feel alive and seen in a skin that spends most days hidden beneath practicality. And yet, as she nestles against her husband’s warmth, she knows it’s more than that. This quiet rebellion, this reclaiming of her sensuality, doesn’t pull her away from him. It draws her closer.
She thinks about the nights that follow these mornings, how she’ll turn to him with a renewed hunger, how the confidence she’s tasted here will spill into their sheets. It’s not infidelity, not even close. It’s fuel. The men and women on X don’t know her, don’t own her, but their words stoke a fire she brings home. She smiles into the dark, amused by the paradox, a handful of strangers, a lime green bra, and an early morning whim making her a better lover. The thought settles as she closes her eyes, the snores beside her lulling her back to sleep, content in the knowledge that she’s more than any one lens can capture.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
I post my form in stark relief, A line of muscle, shadowed chest, The screen ignites a bold belief, A sensual self, both raw, expressed. Not Safe For Work, this daring show, A flex, a curve, a quiet roar, It stirs my pulse, it bids me grow, And cracks the shell I wore before.
The crude rush in, their barbs fly fast, A grunt, a jeer, a shallow cut, But through their din, I hear at last, The voices rising from the rut. A man might say, “Your strength is art,” A woman, “Confidence in view,” These words pierce deep into my heart, And light a spark I never knew.
The lens I wield, it frames me whole, Not flaws to hide, but truth to claim, Each shot I share, it frees my soul, Unshackles doubt, rewrites my name. My body, broad, or lean, or mine, Becomes a tale I dare to tell, No more a cage, but redefined, A sensual hymn where I can dwell.
Replies cascade, a jagged stream, Some rough, some lewd, a fleeting bite, Yet others pause, their words redeem, A lift, a glow, a guiding light. “Your poise is power,” one declares, “Your form’s a fire, bold and true,” These threads weave through the digital airs, And wake the sensual me anew.
It’s not for sex, this open stand, Not casual thrills, nor cheap desire, But something vast, a firmer land, A mirror held to my own fire. The scars I bear, the weight I lift, The cock I show, the skin I’ve grown, Each frame becomes a sacred gift, A pride in self I’ve never known.
A man chimes in, “I feel that strength,” His echo builds a brother’s bond, A woman writes, “Your truth at length,” And suddenly, I’m far beyond. The crude may snarl, their noise may clash, But these replies, so warm, so wise, They cloak me in a tender sash, And lift my sensual spirit’s rise.
I scroll my posts, a living thread, A gallery of me, unbowed, Each image fuels the life I’ve led, Each like a cheer, both soft and loud. No longer do I duck or shrink, The flesh I own, I now embrace, This platform, raw yet laced with ink, Uplifts me to a higher place.
The screen’s my stage, a boundless span, Where I stand tall, where I am free, The chains of shame dissolve, unman, Replaced by eyes that truly see. “Your courage shines,” they say, and mean, “Your body’s bold, a work of grace,” This sensuality, once unseen, Now claims its rightful, steady space.
It’s not the chase, the fleeting fuck, Of skin on skin, a passing dare, But how I mend my own ill luck, And find a self worth laying bare. The crude may bark, their words may fade, But others rise with gentle care, And in their light, I’m newly made, A man sensual, strong, and rare.
Ten verses weave my tale to close, Of X’s wild, untamed domain, Where NSFW can shift repose, From doubt to sensual refrain. The few may scoff, the many muse, Their words a balm, a soft ignite, Through this, I’ve learned I can’t refuse, My body’s worth, my soul’s delight.
In pixels bold, I cast my frame, A curve of hip, a shadowed breast, The screen’s soft glow ignites a flame, A spark of me, both bare and dressed. Not Safe For Work, they call this art, A daring dance, a whispered tease, It stirs the blood, it wakes the heart, And bids my spirit find its ease.
The crude come quick, their words like darts, A jab, a leer, a hollow shout, But past their noise, I hear the hearts, The ones who see what I’m about. A man might write, “Your strength is grace,” A woman, “Beauty in your skin,” Their thoughts lift high above the base, And in their echo, I begin.
I feel the lens, its tender gaze, Not cold, but warm, a mirror’s truth, Each line I share, each sultry phrase, Unravels shame from tender youth. My body—round, or lean, or mine— Becomes a song, a verse to sing, No longer cloaked in doubt’s design, But crowned with sensual offering.
The replies roll in, a mixed refrain, Some brash, some crude, a fleeting sting, Yet others pause, their words sustain, A lift, a balm, a gentle thing. “Your confidence is pure delight,” “Your form’s a poem, bold and free,” These voices weave through digital night, And coax the sensual out of me.
It’s not for sex, this baring act, Not casual lust, nor fleeting chase, But something deeper, truer, fact— A claiming of my own embrace. The stretch of skin, the softened scar, The weight of breasts, the dip of waist, Each part I show, both near and far, Becomes a joy I dare to taste.
A woman writes, “I see me too,” Her words a bridge, a sister’s call, A man reflects, “Your soul shines through,” And suddenly, I’m ten feet tall. The crude may leer, their noise may flare, But these replies, so kind, so keen, They wrap me in a tender care, And make my sensuality serene.
I scroll the feed, my posts alive, A gallery of me, unbound, Each image helps my spirit thrive, Each like a note, a sacred sound. No longer do I shrink or hide, The flesh I wear, I now adore, This platform, crude yet sanctified, Uplifts me to my very core.
The screen becomes a canvas vast, Where I paint bold, where I am free, The ghosts of doubt dissolve at last, Replaced by eyes that truly see. “Your power’s in your honest glow,” They say, and I begin to trust, This sensuality I know, A bloom unfurled from ash and dust.
It’s not the act, the fleeting thrill, Of flesh for flesh, a passing game, But how I rise, how I instill, A love for self, a reclaimed name. The crude may bark, their words may fall, But others lift with gentle might, And in their chorus, I stand tall, A woman sensual, fierce, and bright.
Ten verses now, my tale complete, Of X’s wild, uncharted sea, Where NSFW can shift the beat, From shame to sensuality. The few may jeer, the many muse, Their words a gift, a soft caress, Through this, I’ve learned I can’t refuse, My body’s song, my soul’s excess.
The sun hung low in the Oxfordshire sky, casting golden rays through the dense canopy of ancient oaks and beeches. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and wildflowers, a faint breeze rustling the leaves as Emma stepped carefully along the woodland trail. She was 41, tall at five foot eleven, with a slim frame that carried an effortless grace. Her light summer dress, a pale blue fabric with tiny white daisies, clung softly to her narrow hips, the hem swaying just above her knees. Beneath it, she wore nothing, no bra, no knickers, no thighs, her skin bare against the cotton, a deliberate choice for the day. Her small, shapely breasts moved subtly as she walked, pressed against the fabric when she moved just right.
Emma’s husband, Derreck, was away for work, not due back for a few days. She loved him deeply, but their marriage had settled into a comfortable rhythm that left some of her sexual desires unfulfilled. Derreck knew she occasionally sought satisfaction elsewhere, a silent agreement between them that allowed her to explore her needs without guilt. Today, her target was Richard Foster, a man she’d met through a local conservation project. At 59, Richard was tall, six foot four, and still fit, his body trim though no longer visibly muscular. His tight jeans hugged his frame, revealing the impressive bulge of his cock, long and thick, which hung down his left leg. Like Emma, he’d foregone underwear, and the outline of his manhood was impossible to ignore.
They were in this woodland, owned by a friendly landowner who’d granted them access for the day, to survey for signs of badgers. Richard seemed to know a lot about the creatures, his knowledge both impressive and oddly arousing to Emma. She’d decided this morning, as she slipped into her dress and left her undergarments in the drawer, that she would seduce him today. The thought of his tall frame, his experienced hands, and that large cock had already set her body humming with anticipation.
The Trail
The trail wound deeper into the woods, the ground soft underfoot from recent rain. Richard walked a few steps ahead, his t-shirt clinging to his broad shoulders, his jeans accentuating the strong lines of his legs. Emma’s eyes lingered on the bulge in his pants, noting how it seemed to shift as he moved. She bit her lip, her pulse quickening.
“Here,” Richard said, stopping abruptly and squatting down. He pointed to a small pile of dark, earthy droppings, badger scat, or “scrat,” as he called it. He frequently got words slightly wrong and Emma was amused at his misuse of the name of a delightful characters name. He picked up a stick and gently prodded the pile, breaking it apart to examine its contents. “See how fresh this is? They’ve been here recently.” His voice was deep, steady, with a hint of excitement as he pointed to a faint trail of grass trimmings leading off into the underbrush. “They drag this in for bedding.”
Emma squatted in front of him, her legs to one side, careful to position herself so he’d have a clear view. She’d unbuttoned the top of her dress just enough to reveal the gentle curve of her breasts when she leaned forward, her nipples already hardening in the cool air. She mirrored his posture, pretending to study the scat, but her focus was on him. “That’s fascinating,” she said, her voice soft, almost a purr. She leaned in closer, letting the neckline of her dress dip further, her breasts fully visible to him now.
Richard’s eyes flicked up from the scat, and for a moment, they lingered on her chest. His gaze was unapologetic, a spark of interest flaring in his brown eyes before he returned to the trail of grass. But Emma had seen enough. As they both stood, she noticed the change in his jeans, the bulge had lengthened, his cock growing thicker, now pushing down his left leg rather than hanging. The outline was unmistakable, and her breath caught in her throat.
“Those jeans look good on you,” she said, her tone casual but laced with meaning. “They show you’re in good shape.” She didn’t mention his cock directly, but her eyes flicked down briefly, and the slight curve of her lips made her intent clear.
Richard’s mouth twitched into a half-smile, his gaze meeting hers. “Thanks,” he said simply, but there was a roughness to his voice now, a hint of desire that hadn’t been there before. He adjusted his stance, and the movement only made his arousal more apparent. Emma felt a rush of heat between her legs, her pussy already growing wet at the thought of what was to come.
The Sett
They continued along the trail, the tension between them building with every step. The woodland opened into a small clearing where the badger sett was nestled against a low embankment, a series of tunnels and mounds surrounded by trampled grass and scattered leaves. Richard squatted again, pointing out the details with the same enthusiasm he’d shown earlier. “See here,” he said, gesturing to a pile of torn grass near one of the entrances. “They’ve dragged this in for bedding. And over there,” he pointed to a patch of flattened earth,“ that is where the cubs have been playing.”
Emma squatted in front of him again, this time facing him directly. Her legs were slightly parted, the hem of her dress riding up to bunch on her thighs. The fabric had shifted just enough to expose her pussy, the trim outer lips glistening faintly with her arousal, her inner lips peeking through, a slight glimpse. She leaned forward, following his explanation, but her eyes were on his face, watching for his reaction.
Richard’s words faltered for a moment as his gaze dropped. His eyes lingered on her pussy, taking in the sight of her exposed sex, before traveling up to her breasts, still visible through the unbuttoned neckline of her dress. Finally, his eyes returned to her face, and the heat in his expression was undeniable. Emma felt a thrill run through her, her clit throbbing at the knowledge that he was looking at her, wanting her.
She shifted slightly, letting her legs part a fraction more, and Richard’s breath hitched. The bulge in his jeans had grown even more pronounced, his cock now fully hard, jutting to one side and stretching the fabric across the width of his hip. Emma’s mouth watered at the sight, her arousal spiking as she realized just how much he wanted her. The fact that he’d allowed his eyes to linger on her most intimate place told her everything she needed to know, they were going to fuck, and it was going to happen soon.
The Survey Changes
The air in the clearing seemed to thicken as Emma and Richard moved away from the badger sett, the faint rustle of leaves underfoot mingling with the distant calls of a blackbird. The tension between them had reached a fever pitch, a palpable energy that made Emma’s skin tingle with every step. Her body was a live wire, her pussy slick with arousal, the absence of underwear beneath her light summer dress making her hyper-aware of every brush of fabric against her sensitive skin. Her nipples, already hard, pressed against the cotton, and she could feel the dampness between her thighs with each movement. She glanced at Richard, her eyes drawn once again to the obscene bulge in his tight jeans. His cock was fully hard now, jutting to one side, the thick outline stretching across the width of his hip. The sight made her mouth water, her clit throbbing with need.
Emma stopped abruptly, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she leaned against a sturdy oak tree. The rough bark pressed into her back through the thin fabric of her dress, a sharp contrast to the softness of her skin. She tilted her head back slightly, her chestnut hair spilling over her shoulders, and looked at Richard with an invitation in her eyes. He didn’t hesitate. His tall frame closed the distance between them in two strides, his height towering over her as he stepped close, his body radiating heat. The scent of him, earthy, with a hint of sweat and the faint musk of his arousal, filled her senses, making her dizzy with want.
Richard leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a tentative kiss that quickly deepened into something hungry, almost desperate. His mouth was warm, his tongue teasing hers with a slow, deliberate rhythm that sent shivers down her spine. Emma moaned softly into the kiss, her hands reaching up to grip his shoulders, her fingers digging into the firm muscle beneath his t-shirt. His hand slid down her side, tracing the curve of her narrow hips before reaching for her leg. He lifted it with a gentle but firm grip, raising the skirt of her dress and exposing her pussy to the cool air of the woodland.
The sensation of being bared to him, her most intimate place on display, made Emma’s heart race. She could feel the dampness of her arousal, the way her trim outer lips glistened in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. Her inner lips, peeking through but not prominent, throbbed with need, and she knew Richard could see it all, the evidence of her desire for him. His eyes darkened as he broke the kiss, his gaze dropping to take in the sight of her. “God, Emma,” he murmured, his voice rough with lust. “You’re beautiful.”
Her hands moved with a frantic urgency, fumbling with his belt and then the button of his jeans. The metal clinked softly as she worked, her fingers trembling with anticipation. She broke the kiss, her breath coming in short gasps as she looked down to watch his cock spring free. It shot out of his jeans, thick and heavy, the foreskin partially retracted to reveal the glistening tip. The sight of him, eight inches of hard, uncut cock, so thick she couldn’t fully wrap her hand around it, made her pussy clench with need. Richard had lifted her skirt enough to fully bare her now, the fabric bunched around her waist, and without hesitation, her hand reached for him, guiding him to her entrance.
Her pussy was dripping at the opening, her arousal coating her inner thighs, but drier within, and Richard had to work his way in slowly. He thrust gently at first, each movement deeper than the last, his cock stretching her in a way that made her gasp. The sensation was exquisite, a mix of pleasure and the slightest edge of discomfort as her body adjusted to his size. Emma’s hand found her clit, rubbing in tight circles as he filled her, her fingers slick with her own juices. The combination of his thick cock and her own touch sent her spiraling toward the edge, her breath hitching as the pressure built.
Richard’s hands gripped her hips, steadying her against the tree as he thrust deeper, his movements slow but deliberate. “You’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice low and strained. “So wet for me.” His words sent a jolt of heat through her, and she moaned, her head tipping back against the bark. The rough texture scraped against her scalp, a sharp contrast to the softness of his hands on her skin, and the duality of sensations only heightened her arousal.
With each thrust, Richard’s cock slid deeper, her juices coating him, lubricating his passage. Emma’s fingers moved faster on her clit, her body trembling as the pleasure built to a crescendo. She could feel every inch of him, the way his thickness stretched her, the way the head of his cock nudged against her deepest places. Her orgasm hit her hard, a wave of pleasure that made her cry out, her voice echoing through the woods. Her pussy clenched around him, her walls pulsing as her body shuddered against the tree, the rough bark biting into her back as Richard’s firm body pressed her against it.
But Richard wasn’t done with her. He pulled out slowly, his cock slick with her juices, and knelt before her, his hands spreading her thighs wider. Emma’s legs trembled as she looked down at him, her chest heaving with each ragged breath. His lips found her sex, kissing her tenderly at first, his tongue flicking out to taste her. The sensation of his warm mouth on her sensitive clit made her whimper, her hands tangling in his hair as he began to explore her with his tongue. He lapped at her, his movements slow and deliberate, savoring the taste of her arousal.
His fingers joined his tongue, two of them sliding inside her with ease, her pussy still slick from her orgasm. He curled them, searching for the spot he knew would drive her wild, his movements careful but firm. Emma’s moans grew louder, her hips bucking against his face as he found her G-spot, the pressure sending sparks of pleasure through her. “Right there,” she gasped, her voice trembling. “Oh, God, Richard, right there.”
He didn’t let up, his fingers pressing against that sensitive spot while his tongue worked her clit, circling and flicking in a rhythm that made her see stars. Emma’s second orgasm built more slowly this time, a deep, rolling wave that started in her core and spread outward, her entire body tensing as it approached. When it hit, it was even more intense than the first, her pussy clenching around his fingers as she came, her cries echoing through the trees. Her legs gave out, and Richard’s free hand caught her, holding her up as she rode out the waves of pleasure, her body trembling against him.
Richard stood, his cock still hard and glistening with her juices, and flipped her around so she faced the tree. Emma braced her hands against the bark, her dress still bunched around her waist, her pussy exposed and aching for him. He entered her from behind, his cock sliding in with ease now, her body fully adjusted to his size. His strokes were perfect, each thrust filling her completely while also stroking her G-spot with every movement. The angle was exquisite, the head of his cock hitting that sensitive spot with every thrust, and Emma felt another orgasm building almost immediately.
A small climax rocked her, her pussy fluttering around him, but Richard didn’t stop. His hands gripped her hips, his thrusts growing faster, deeper, building her pleasure higher and higher. Emma’s moans turned to cries, her body trembling as the pressure became almost unbearable. “Richard,” she gasped, her voice breaking. “I’m going to, oh, God, I’m going to come again.”
“Let go,” he growled, his voice rough with need. “Come for me, Emma.” His words pushed her over the edge, and she came hard, her pussy clenching around his cock as waves of pleasure crashed through her. Her legs shook, her hands gripping the tree for support as her orgasm seemed to go on forever, her body shuddering with the intensity of it.
Emma pulled away from him, her pussy feeling empty without his presence, the sudden absence of his cock leaving her aching for more. She squatted and turned, her eyes locking with his as she took him into her mouth. Her hand cupped his balls, feeling their weight as she worked the small portion of his shaft she could fit, her lips stretching around his thickness. Richard groaned, his hands tangling in her hair as he watched her, his brown eyes dark with desire. She could taste herself on him, the musky sweetness of her arousal mingling with the saltiness of his skin, and the combination drove her wild.
She worked him with her mouth and hand, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock, teasing the sensitive underside. Richard’s breathing grew ragged, his hips bucking slightly as he neared the edge. “Emma,” he groaned, his voice a warning. “I’m going to.” Before he could finish, hot spurts of cum sprayed into the back of her mouth, the taste of him filling her senses. She swallowed eagerly, her eyes never leaving his as she took every drop, her hand still stroking him gently as he came down from his high.
A Deeper Connection
They parted, and Emma stood, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as she pulled Richard into a deep kiss. Their tongues danced together, the taste of his cum still lingering in her mouth, a shared intimacy that made her pulse race. The kiss was slow, languid, a contrast to the frantic need of moments before, and Emma felt a warmth spread through her chest, a connection that went beyond the physical. Her hand had kept hold of his cock as it softened, her fingers wrapped around the now-flaccid length, but as they kissed, she felt him swelling again, growing hard under her touch.
They broke the kiss, their breaths mingling in the cool air, and Emma looked into his eyes, seeing the same hunger she felt reflected there. Without a word, they each began to strip, their movements frantic with renewed desire. Emma pulled her dress over her head, the fabric catching briefly on her hair before she tossed it aside, leaving her completely naked in the dappled sunlight. Her slim frame, small breasts, and narrow hips were on full display, her neat pussy glistening with the evidence of her arousal. Richard yanked his t-shirt off, revealing a chest dusted with graying hair, his body still trim and fit despite his age. He kicked off his jeans, his cock springing free once more, already hard and ready for her.
Richard grabbed a blanket from his rucksack, his movements quick but deliberate, his cock waving obscenely from his groin as he worked. He spread the blanket on the ground, the soft fabric a stark contrast to the rough earth beneath, and turned to Emma, his eyes raking over her naked body. “Now let’s fuck,” he said, his voice rough with desire, and the rawness of his words sent a shiver down her spine.
Emma stepped onto the blanket, her bare feet sinking into the soft fabric, and reached for him, her hands sliding up his chest as she pulled him down with her. They knelt together, their bodies pressed close, and Emma marveled at the feel of him, his skin warm against hers, the faint roughness of his chest hair against her breasts, the hard length of his cock pressing into her stomach. She kissed him again, her hands roaming his body, tracing the lines of his arms, the curve of his hips, the strength still evident in his 59-year-old frame.
Richard’s hands were on her too, exploring her with a reverence that made her heart ache. He cupped her small breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, making her gasp into his mouth. His hands slid down her sides, tracing the dip of her waist, the flare of her narrow hips, before settling on her ass, pulling her closer. “You’re incredible,” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t get enough of you.”
Emma smiled, her hands sliding down to grip his cock, stroking him slowly as she looked into his eyes. “Then don’t,” she whispered, her voice a sultry promise. She pushed him back gently, guiding him to lie down on the blanket, and straddled him, her thighs bracketing his hips. His cock stood proud between them, thick and hard, and Emma positioned herself above him, her pussy hovering just over the tip. She teased him for a moment, rubbing her slick folds against him, coating him with her arousal, before sinking down slowly, taking him inch by inch.
The stretch was exquisite, his thickness filling her completely, and Emma moaned as she settled onto him, her hands braced on his chest. She began to move, her hips rocking in a slow, deliberate rhythm, her breasts bouncing slightly with each thrust. Richard’s hands gripped her hips, guiding her movements, his eyes locked on hers as she rode him. The pleasure built quickly, her clit grinding against his pelvis with every downward thrust, and Emma felt another orgasm approaching, her body trembling with the intensity of it.
She came with a cry, her pussy clenching around him as waves of pleasure crashed through her, her nails digging into his chest. Richard groaned, his hands tightening on her hips as he felt her walls pulse around him, her juices coating his cock. But he didn’t let her stop. He sat up, pulling her into his lap, his arms wrapping around her as he began to thrust up into her, his movements deep and powerful. Emma clung to him, her arms around his neck, her forehead pressed to his as they moved together, their bodies in perfect sync.
They fucked like that for what felt like hours, their movements slowing at times, becoming languid and sensual, savoring the feel of each other. Richard’s hands roamed her body, tracing the curve of her spine, the softness of her thighs, the small of her back. Emma’s fingers explored his shoulders, his arms, the hard lines of his hips, marveling at the way his body felt against hers. They kissed deeply, their tongues tangling, their breaths mingling as they lost themselves in each other.
Eventually, Richard flipped her onto her back, her legs wrapping around his waist as he entered her again, his thrusts slow and deep. The blanket beneath her was soft, a contrast to the hard ground, and Emma arched her back, her hands gripping his shoulders as he drove into her. Their eyes locked, a shared intensity passing between them, and Emma felt a connection she hadn’t expected, a deep, primal bond that went beyond the physical.
They switched positions again, Richard taking her from behind, his hands gripping her hips as he pounded into her, her moans echoing through the woods. Emma’s hands braced against the blanket, her body rocking with each thrust, the pleasure building once more. She came again, her pussy clenching around him, her cries mingling with the sounds of the woodland, the rustle of leaves, the distant cry of a Jay.
By the time they finally collapsed on the blanket, spent and sated, the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the woodland in a soft twilight glow. Emma lay in Richard’s arms, her head resting on his chest, their bodies still tangled together. She could hear the steady thump of his heartbeat, feel the rise and fall of his chest with each breath, and she felt a deep satisfaction, her needs fulfilled in a way she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Richard’s hand stroked her hair, a tender gesture that made her smile, and she knew this wouldn’t be the last time they met like this.
They dressed slowly, their movements languid, and packed up their things. As they walked back along the trail, the air between them was different now, still charged, but with a new understanding. Emma’s body hummed with the memory of their encounter, her pussy still tingling with the aftershocks of her orgasms, and she couldn’t help but glance at Richard, a smile playing on her lips. The thought of what they’d shared and what they might share again made her pulse race with anticipation.
OxonWoods Man 