If You Go Down To The Woods Today...

…You’re sure of a big surprise. (The totally-bare picnic)

Yesterday was a perfect day, warm, with clear blue skies and no wind, just as promised. We decided we were going to take advantage of what might be the last of the fine weather with a good long hike up in the forest, and a picnic somewhere on the way. So we packed a rucksack with all the essentials: Bottle of wine, corkscrew, cups, snacks, apples and of course a large rug.

The forest is a very hilly area: Geologically speaking it is a terminal moraine, a huge heap of debris left behind by a retreating glacier during the last ice-age, with deep valleys, ridges and rounded hilltops. It is managed, with areas of new plantations and cleared areas alongside mature trees, so there is always some activity somewhere in the forest and it is criss-crossed with a network of good trails.

The first thing that strikes you is the silence. Several times we just stood still to take in the almost complete absence of sound, along with the sight of the sunlight shafting through the trees. Walking conditions were perfect: Warm in the sunlight and delightfully cool in the shade. After about an hour and a half of walking without having seen another soul we found the ideal spot for our picnic, a freshly cleared and re-planted hilltop, overlooking a secluded valley and further ridges of pines beyond, soaked in late-afternoon sunshine. We spread out the blanket on the springy grass at the edge of the plantation, opened the wine and sank back.

We sipped our wine and set the world to rights, slowly rolling closer to each other. Suddenly, Heather seat up:

“I’m getting hot” she announced, stripping off her t-shirt. I followed suit, then snuggled closer to her, resting my head on her breasts and unbuttoning her jeans at the same time. She lifted her hips and she let me slide her jeans and panties down.

Walking boots are a pain to get off, and even more of a pain to get on again, so we just pushed our jeans round our ankles and fucked with our boots on. First I finger-fucked her to orgasm and then pushed her legs up to enter her as best I could despite being effectively bound at the ankles. Heather, with her legs up in the air, thought I looked funny peeping at her over the pushed-down jeans that joined her ankles, so I turned her over and fucked her from behind instead. She had said she didn’t want soaked knickers to complete the rest of the walk in, so I obliged by turning her over once more and spraying over her breasts instead.

And then we just lay back in the sunshine, letting its warmth and the fresh air bathe our naked bodies. On previous occasions our outdoor exploits have mostly been ‘quickies’, done just for the naughtiness of it and executed as quickly as possible for fear of discovery. On this occasion, though, we could relax and enjoy our little bit of love in the afternoon, confident that there was nobody within miles.

Instead of being guiltily snatched, it just seemed the most natural thing in the world.



The scene of the crime