Lets out a sharp, involuntary yelp as the cold water meets her hottest parts.
Her heart pounds in her chest, adrenaline coursing through her veins from the cold and the thrill of being naked in the river. She registers the sensation of her own arousal, her nipples rock hard and her pussy starting to throb, and she laughs out loud. So she likes to be naked outdoors. Who would have guessed? The chill is starting to ease, or maybe her skin is just going numb; regardless, she stretches out in the water, her bottom resting on the riverbed, her breasts breaking through the surface as she arches her back. The sweat rinses off her skin and floats away with the current, taking with it momentarily any self-consciousness she might have felt. Who is here to judge, anyway? The birds and fish don’t seem to care. She imagines herself as one of Homer’s sirens, lying in wait to pull Odysseus’ ship off its course and dash it against the rocks. Well, maybe she wouldn’t dash it, she thinks. Maybe she would just lure a sailor or two for the company and call it good. Nobody has to die today.
The cold tingles her scalp, and she is sure that her lips are starting to turn blue. Reluctantly she rises, droplets of water beading up on her frigid flesh, and wades back out of the river to sit on the beach. The sun has already retreated back behind the clouds again, but at least for the moment the air is comparatively warmer than the water; she doesn’t notice that she’s been shivering until it begins to subside. She settles on the large warm boulder that holds her clothes, feeling euphoric and still intensely aroused. Her eyes close and she breathes in the fragrance of water, wet earth, green growth and blooming flowers.
A twig snaps nearby.
Heart pounding, she reaches for her dress and drapes it over herself, eyes darting frantically left, right, up, searching for the source of the sound. Suddenly she is keenly aware of her nakedness, every flaw on her body, and the potential that she could face a certain degree of trouble for being nude in a state park. Maybe it’s just a squirrel, she thinks, or a particularly hefty bird. Her gaze settles on an unmistakable pair of shoes at the edge of the woods and she groans, mortified, curling up to make herself as small as possible under the fabric of her clothes. Her skin is still soaking wet, her bra and shoes somewhere behind the rock she rests on, and now… company.
The newcomer steps boldly out from the trees, his face flushed but his gaze determined. “Don’t cover up.” His voice is stern, commanding. She lowers her hands, letting her dress fall away once more, and raises her eyes to meet his. He walks toward her slowly; it registers, as she sizes him up, that he’s likely a head taller than her. Intensity is etched across his face, in his posture, in every muscle in his arms and legs. He stops just in front of where she sits on the sun-warmed rock. The air is thick again: thick with the tension and excitement of the unknown. She studies his face and feels fairly certain that she could tell him to fuck off and he’d respect her. He would apologize, turn around, and hike back up the path. He stands before her now, not moving, his gaze locked onto hers. She could ask him to leave right now.
She sits up straight, arches her back proudly, and smiles at him.
It’s all the encouragement he needs to lean down and capture her lips in a hungry kiss. She moans into his mouth as his teeth tease her bottom lip, moans again as his hands settle on her breasts, his fingers probing and caressing her skin, tweaking her nipples. Eagerly she scoots forward until she sits perched on the edge of the boulder, spreading her thighs in invitation. Her hands fall to his waistband, her fingers dancing along the button and fly of his shorts, hinting but promising nothing. A low growl rumbles from deep in his throat as his hand drops low to her aching sex. “Fuck, you’re so wet!” His lips are at her neck now, and he whispers in her ear. “You like this? Baring yourself to a stranger in the woods?” Whimpering, she nods, and begins to unbutton his shorts.
Suddenly he backs away, chuckles at her exasperated huff, drops to his knees in the sand. She gasps in anticipation as he gently opens her thighs even wider and inhales deeply. The scent of her arousal is stronger than the rich perfume of the forest around them, wafting up and overwhelming her senses. Her eyelids flutter shut as his fingers stroke up and down her slit, his hot breath following closely after. Using one hand to spread her pussy lips wide, he laps at her vulva before latching onto her clit and sucking hard; she gasps, arches her back, hangs onto his head for dear life. His tongue sets up a delicious rhythm matched by the fingers of his free hand, thrusting in and out of her pussy, teasing cries and moans from her throat until she’s convulsing on his tongue and babbling to the sky, nonsense words and desperate begging. After an eternity, and far too soon, he lifts his head and smiles a crooked grin. “Look at me,” he orders, and she opens her eyes to see his mouth slick with her juices. He stands, looming over her again, and she can’t stop herself from devouring his lips, savoring the taste of herself on his tongue. His hands cup her face and he pulls her away gently, staring into her eyes until he’s certain she can see through the tail end of her orgasmic haze. “I’m going to fuck you now,” he announces, his voice rough and his eyes dark with desire. She nods enthusiastically, aching for more; she has never felt this wanton, this alive and desirable before.
He grabs her hips and pulls her close. Their bodies, his standing and hers on the rock, line up perfectly. She can feel his erection through his clothes and she releases it from its constraints with a triumphant smile. The sounds of their heavy breathing, of his clothes dropping to the sandy riverbank, mingle with the rush of the water and the birdsong ringing from the trees. The head of his cock lines up with her entrance, teasing her hot flesh. She looks down at where they’re about to join, back up to see the question written across his face, and smiles widely. “Well? What are you waiting for?”
One fluid movement and he’s buried deep inside her. She can’t stop the cry of pleasure from escaping her lips; as he picks up the pace, her hands frantically tug his t-shirt upwards, desperate to feel his skin on hers. He obliges, pulling it up and over his head, then returning his hands to her hips. His fingers digging into her soft flesh are already leaving marks, bright red ovals taking ownership of her skin. She wraps her legs around his torso, eagerly meeting his thrusts, urging him to go deeper, harder. His lips and teeth and tongue play up and down her neck, his growls and moans sending shivers down her spine. As she begins to feel her orgasm growing, she feels him start to speed up and she closes her eyes.
A hand grips her chin, and she opens them wide again. He is sweating, flushed and frantic. “Look at me,” he pants. “I want you to look me in the eyes when you cum, I want to see what I do to you…”