I unhooked one pannier from my bike and tossed in some useful supplies: water, soap, condoms, K-Y Jelly, and so on. I grabbed the pannier by its cloth handle, put my other arm around Beth, and we continued our journey uphill.
About a quarter mile further on, a side-path forked off to the left. We took it. It ended at a small clearing on a hilltop.
The view was beautiful: rolling hills and treetops and a clear blue sky. I could see a couple of towns in the distance. They looked too far away to be Hebron or Bolton. Marlborough, maybe? Colchester? I decided it didn’t matter.
A fairly new park bench faced outwards. The wooden slats were still varnished and smooth. A small brass plaque on the backrest read, “In memory of….” I forget her name: Gwen somebody. Beth and I sat, taking in the view.
“Do you like?” she asked.
“It’s beautiful,” I said. “You are beautiful.”
“We are beautiful, Stephen, beautiful together. Beautiful, star-crossed lovers.” She kissed me, first tenderly then with increasing passion. Our hands wandered about each other’s body as we kissed. In a remarkably short time I was erect and Beth was moist.
Her jersey’s long zipper went down to about her navel. I pulled it all the way down. This time–unlike our first–she wasn’t wearing a hard-to-remove, hard-to-dislodge sports bra underneath. She wore an ordinary bra with a front clasp.
“That was thoughtful,” I said. She smiled. As I freed her pretty breasts she reached over and pulled down the long zipper on my own jersey. We caressed each other’s chest for a bit. She teased my nipples with the edge of a fingernail. I fondled her breasts with my palm and fingers.
Beth’s breasts were on the generous end of a B cup–larger than Ann’s though less firm. Just a touch of sag, which was actually quite attractive on her. The beautiful brown nipples were thick. They were always a little prominent; now they were very prominent.
“Stand,” Beth commanded.
I obeyed, facing her. Still seated, she reached out both arms, quickly and efficiently pulled my bike shorts down, and drew me closer.
The sun was shining, and the day was warm; even so, the air was cool. It was October this time, after all, not July. I zipped my jersey back up. Beth left hers unzipped and gaping, her bra undone. She knew how much exposed breasts increase a man’s pleasure during fellatio. Then suddenly my erect penis was warm, wet, and bathed in delight as her cheeks and tongue caressed it.
Beth stood and removed her own shorts. She unzipped the pannier–it was on the bench next to her–and retrieved the K-Y Jelly. She must have noticed the condoms but said nothing. She faced me, kissed me, and looked me in the eyes. “Would you like my vagina first?” she asked.
“Yes, but I’d better not,” I said. “I’m already close to climaxing.”
Beth smiled. “Flatterer!” she said. “Hold out your hand.”
I extended my left hand, palm up. She squeezed a large dollop of K-Y Jelly onto the pad of my middle finger. She put her arms around my neck. As we kissed I moved my finger to her anus and caressed it in a circular motion. She was very tight. I could feel that she was making conscious efforts to relax her sphincter. In a couple minutes I had penetrated about a half inch.
“Good, Stephen. It’s working. Let’s have some more jelly.”
We lubed up my finger again and got back to work. Nice work, if you can get it. She felt so very, very warm and very, very tight back there. It would feel like heaven when I got my penis in there, I thought. In another couple minutes I had reached the second knuckle and was rotating my finger a little. At some point we had stopped kissing. Beth’s head was on my shoulder, her face nuzzling my neck.
“Let me bend over the bench,” she said. I withdrew my finger. With the other hand I took the tube of lubricant from her. She moved to the rear of the bench then bent over its back. I was struck by the numerous curly, brown pubic hairs stretching outwards behind her labia. A lovely and sexy reminder of our furry-animal real nature, I thought.
I squatted and spent a minute kissing her firm buttocks though not her jelly-drenched anus itself. I stood again then lubed up my middle and index fingers both. I started with the index finger. Beth was getting better at relaxing. It wasn’t long before I had both fingers well in and twisting gently.
“Ready for my penis?”
“I think so.”
“Condom okay?”
“It wasn’t part of my original thought. But yes, it makes good sense. It’s fine.”
As I retrieved a condom and opened its packet, Beth sucked my cock back to full erection. She unrolled the lubricated condom onto me and leaned over the bench again. I went to work with my fingers again for a minute. Then I squirted a good dose of K-Y Jelly onto the condom and pressed the head of my cock against her rosebud. I maintained steady, moderate pressure as Beth relaxed in spurts. She would exhale sharply, her anus would relax briefly, and my penis would slip in another few millimeters. Slowly but surely.
I felt her anus close behind my glans and I knew we were home safe. A flood of happiness washed over me, oddly. Not lust, not physical pleasure, but happiness.