MSH2
Sir Spanky Sword
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Exactly
for it to be as much their body as yours is and your body as much theirs as yoursnumeniusa's boudoir
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Exactly
for it to be as much their body as yours is and your body as much theirs as yours
Trekka
Cheap Sunglasses.
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And what's wrong with that?
Doctor Liz tells me I need to be doing cowgirl for maximum calorie burn. Unfortunately I didn't read her prescription today until afterwards, but I will certainly be bearing it in mind next time
Well, the BF will be pleased to hear this news, as I've been looking for ways to slip extra exercise into my daily routine.
Yee-haw.
*ponders* Would the purchase of new boots be justified in this situation?
numeniusa
Probably naked...
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Exactly
And yet, there's still, I feel, a sense of wonder about it, even after many years of familiarity. Something new to learn, to experience.
I'm certain Simon will have something to say on this topic when next he returns.
numeniusa
Probably naked...
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Oh yes, I rather think so. And perhaps also a fetching beaded top of some kind?
MSH2
Sir Spanky Sword
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numeniusa
Probably naked...
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And so to bed... (Pepys.. )
But before I go, I leave you this. A couple of days ago we were discussing coloured dildos. And I meant to repost this picture (already shared on BFG's 'things that make us laugh' thread), snapped through the window of a French sex shop.
You wouldn't, would you...?
http://i.imgur.com/uNEZ1Es.jpg
This is just the first of the pics from my French trip. I do hope the rest won't be a cause of hilarity
)But before I go, I leave you this. A couple of days ago we were discussing coloured dildos. And I meant to repost this picture (already shared on BFG's 'things that make us laugh' thread), snapped through the window of a French sex shop.
You wouldn't, would you...?
http://i.imgur.com/uNEZ1Es.jpg
This is just the first of the pics from my French trip. I do hope the rest won't be a cause of hilarity
numeniusa
Probably naked...
- Joined
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On last night's summer picnic
It's ridiculously hot all day. Work done, he packs food into a cool-bag, bread, hot-smoked salmon and chicken, a little potato salad, some rocket. Nothing that will sit heavily on the stomach. A chilled bottle of white wine goes in, and two of the long-stemmed white wine glasses, carefully wrapped. I grab the picnic blanket and we set off.
We walk along the road out of the village, between the dry stone walls, the fields on either side cut last week for silage, but greening up again already. It will be valuable winter food to sustain the animals when the seasons turn again, but right now it feels like there will never be anything but this drowsy summer heat.
We strike out on the footpath and walk for a few minutes to the head of the valley. The footpath carries on, but we head to the right on a sheep track, then scramble up to a grassy plateau on top of a rock face, shielded by some trees. It's only about twenty metres up, but it's very secluded, a little sun trap with beautiful views.
He spreads out the picnic blanket and uncorks the wine. I pull my cotton frock over my head and stash it in the cool-bag, lest it blow away in the breeze up here. Now that would be a 'walk of shame' home... He hands me some wine.
We sip our wine and look at the view. He explains the geological processes which sculpted the valley, dredging up principles learned long ago, but beautifully illustrated by the features we can see from our vantage point. We graze on the food we've brought, and listen to the sounds around us, bees attending to the clover, birdsong, a ewe keeping her lambs close in the bracken below.
I'm naked now, and so is he - we're down to just rings, our wedding bands and his steel cock ring. The sun feels glorious on naked skin, the breeze cooling but not too much. We cavort in the bracken at the top of our plateau, taking photographs, casting shadows. But we both know why we're really here.
The photography has had its usual effect, his cock glistening with precum already, and we return to the picnic rug. I lie, finishing my wine, his hand stroking my outer lips gently. He stashes my empty wine glass and returns to his work, more urgent now, probing gently. He moves down to position himself between my thighs and tastes me. If I open my eyes, I'm looking at the cerulean blue sky, little fluffy clouds floating along serenely. If I open my ears I can hear the bees really close by in the clover, going about their work. But mainly I'm just concentrating on the feel of his lips and tongue at my clit. He builds me to a slow climax, and I cum, not hard, more the sweet release of a delicious tension.
He lies back on the rug, and once I've recovered, I take his dripping cock into my mouth. He moans and encourages me, grasps my hair at the roots just the way I like, and I stop still so he can gently fuck my mouth. I feel him at the back of my mouth, as far as I can take him, and then I switch to his head, pulling, sucking, licking. He's getting close, I know he'll tell me when to stop, and I know I'll go on just that little bit longer, teasing him.
He sits up. "I want to watch you masturbate", he says, reaching for the camera on his phone. I lie back and stretch out my hand. I shouldn't be surprised at how swollen and wet my pussy is, but I am. I circle my clit with my fingertip, knowing he is watching. I feel him opening my lips further, entering me with his fingers, and it excites me to hear the shutter on the camera going off and that noise his phone makes when video recording begins. He knows my cries very well, and he takes a picture right at the point of my orgasm.
Sometimes when I've cum, I am desperate to feel his cock inside me right away, and that's what he gives me, sliding straight inside and pounding me against the springy clover bed. Well, there was one thistle, but who's caring now? He switches to scissors, our bodies at right angles but joined at the core. I feel his curve, his hardness, his excitement. I encourage him with the words I know he loves to hear, instructing him where, what, how. And then he explodes, yelling into the evening sky.
The sun is nearly down over the ridge now, and we clean up, dress, and pack everything we've brought with us. I fold up the picnic rug. The only sign of our visit is the slightly flattened patch of clover, and even that will be gone in ten minutes, as if it never happened.
Except that it did.
It's ridiculously hot all day. Work done, he packs food into a cool-bag, bread, hot-smoked salmon and chicken, a little potato salad, some rocket. Nothing that will sit heavily on the stomach. A chilled bottle of white wine goes in, and two of the long-stemmed white wine glasses, carefully wrapped. I grab the picnic blanket and we set off.
We walk along the road out of the village, between the dry stone walls, the fields on either side cut last week for silage, but greening up again already. It will be valuable winter food to sustain the animals when the seasons turn again, but right now it feels like there will never be anything but this drowsy summer heat.
We strike out on the footpath and walk for a few minutes to the head of the valley. The footpath carries on, but we head to the right on a sheep track, then scramble up to a grassy plateau on top of a rock face, shielded by some trees. It's only about twenty metres up, but it's very secluded, a little sun trap with beautiful views.
He spreads out the picnic blanket and uncorks the wine. I pull my cotton frock over my head and stash it in the cool-bag, lest it blow away in the breeze up here. Now that would be a 'walk of shame' home... He hands me some wine.
We sip our wine and look at the view. He explains the geological processes which sculpted the valley, dredging up principles learned long ago, but beautifully illustrated by the features we can see from our vantage point. We graze on the food we've brought, and listen to the sounds around us, bees attending to the clover, birdsong, a ewe keeping her lambs close in the bracken below.
I'm naked now, and so is he - we're down to just rings, our wedding bands and his steel cock ring. The sun feels glorious on naked skin, the breeze cooling but not too much. We cavort in the bracken at the top of our plateau, taking photographs, casting shadows. But we both know why we're really here.
The photography has had its usual effect, his cock glistening with precum already, and we return to the picnic rug. I lie, finishing my wine, his hand stroking my outer lips gently. He stashes my empty wine glass and returns to his work, more urgent now, probing gently. He moves down to position himself between my thighs and tastes me. If I open my eyes, I'm looking at the cerulean blue sky, little fluffy clouds floating along serenely. If I open my ears I can hear the bees really close by in the clover, going about their work. But mainly I'm just concentrating on the feel of his lips and tongue at my clit. He builds me to a slow climax, and I cum, not hard, more the sweet release of a delicious tension.
He lies back on the rug, and once I've recovered, I take his dripping cock into my mouth. He moans and encourages me, grasps my hair at the roots just the way I like, and I stop still so he can gently fuck my mouth. I feel him at the back of my mouth, as far as I can take him, and then I switch to his head, pulling, sucking, licking. He's getting close, I know he'll tell me when to stop, and I know I'll go on just that little bit longer, teasing him.
He sits up. "I want to watch you masturbate", he says, reaching for the camera on his phone. I lie back and stretch out my hand. I shouldn't be surprised at how swollen and wet my pussy is, but I am. I circle my clit with my fingertip, knowing he is watching. I feel him opening my lips further, entering me with his fingers, and it excites me to hear the shutter on the camera going off and that noise his phone makes when video recording begins. He knows my cries very well, and he takes a picture right at the point of my orgasm.
Sometimes when I've cum, I am desperate to feel his cock inside me right away, and that's what he gives me, sliding straight inside and pounding me against the springy clover bed. Well, there was one thistle, but who's caring now? He switches to scissors, our bodies at right angles but joined at the core. I feel his curve, his hardness, his excitement. I encourage him with the words I know he loves to hear, instructing him where, what, how. And then he explodes, yelling into the evening sky.
The sun is nearly down over the ridge now, and we clean up, dress, and pack everything we've brought with us. I fold up the picnic rug. The only sign of our visit is the slightly flattened patch of clover, and even that will be gone in ten minutes, as if it never happened.
Except that it did.
geronimo_appleby
always on the move
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present-tense narrative. might garner some criticism.
...but the picture sorts it.
...but the picture sorts it.
numeniusa
Probably naked...
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present-tense narrative. might garner some criticism.
...but the picture sorts it.
Present continuous, I think
Didn't harm Hilary Mantel's chances in the Booker. She's a proper writer though, so she didn't need the mucky pics...
numeniusa
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mmmmm.....nice account to wake up to in the morning.
Thank you, sweet Numi.
You're very welcome, Azul!
geronimo_appleby
always on the move
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Present continuous, I think
Didn't harm Hilary Mantel's chances in the Booker. She's a proper writer though, so she didn't need the mucky pics...
yeah. jodi piccoult uses it, too. and cormac mcarthy.
i got a comment a while ago about it. someone said present-tense sounded amateurish. obviously a cunt of some ilk.
suckonsimon
delivering the goods
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Oh NU MI ... !!
Adorable write-up! I felt I was there! Frankly, would love to have been there!
You are so intoxicatingly attractive in your sexuality and your loveliness and joy.
Adorable write-up! I felt I was there! Frankly, would love to have been there!
You are so intoxicatingly attractive in your sexuality and your loveliness and joy.
numeniusa
Probably naked...
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yeah. jodi piccoult uses it, too. and cormac mcarthy.
i got a comment a while ago about it. someone said present-tense sounded amateurish. obviously a cunt of some ilk.
I think Hilary M was hugely criticised for it when Wolf Hall first came out. I do like it though.
I heard her speak down in Stratford-upon-Avon when Wolf Hall and Bring up the Bodies were staged there. And she was sitting in the row behind me at both plays, giggling uproariously at all the rude bits, she's a real sweetie.
geronimo_appleby
always on the move
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stratford. lovely place when it's sunny. got absolutely blootered there one evening about six years ago. no idea what the pub was called!
pkinginva32
Literotica Guru
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On last night's summer picnic
It's ridiculously hot all day. Work done, he packs food into a cool-bag, bread, hot-smoked salmon and chicken, a little potato salad, some rocket. Nothing that will sit heavily on the stomach. A chilled bottle of white wine goes in, and two of the long-stemmed white wine glasses, carefully wrapped. I grab the picnic blanket and we set off.
We walk along the road out of the village, between the dry stone walls, the fields on either side cut last week for silage, but greening up again already. It will be valuable winter food to sustain the animals when the seasons turn again, but right now it feels like there will never be anything but this drowsy summer heat.
We strike out on the footpath and walk for a few minutes to the head of the valley. The footpath carries on, but we head to the right on a sheep track, then scramble up to a grassy plateau on top of a rock face, shielded by some trees. It's only about twenty metres up, but it's very secluded, a little sun trap with beautiful views.
He spreads out the picnic blanket and uncorks the wine. I pull my cotton frock over my head and stash it in the cool-bag, lest it blow away in the breeze up here. Now that would be a 'walk of shame' home... He hands me some wine.
We sip our wine and look at the view. He explains the geological processes which sculpted the valley, dredging up principles learned long ago, but beautifully illustrated by the features we can see from our vantage point. We graze on the food we've brought, and listen to the sounds around us, bees attending to the clover, birdsong, a ewe keeping her lambs close in the bracken below.
I'm naked now, and so is he - we're down to just rings, our wedding bands and his steel cock ring. The sun feels glorious on naked skin, the breeze cooling but not too much. We cavort in the bracken at the top of our plateau, taking photographs, casting shadows. But we both know why we're really here.
The photography has had its usual effect, his cock glistening with precum already, and we return to the picnic rug. I lie, finishing my wine, his hand stroking my outer lips gently. He stashes my empty wine glass and returns to his work, more urgent now, probing gently. He moves down to position himself between my thighs and tastes me. If I open my eyes, I'm looking at the cerulean blue sky, little fluffy clouds floating along serenely. If I open my ears I can hear the bees really close by in the clover, going about their work. But mainly I'm just concentrating on the feel of his lips and tongue at my clit. He builds me to a slow climax, and I cum, not hard, more the sweet release of a delicious tension.
He lies back on the rug, and once I've recovered, I take his dripping cock into my mouth. He moans and encourages me, grasps my hair at the roots just the way I like, and I stop still so he can gently fuck my mouth. I feel him at the back of my mouth, as far as I can take him, and then I switch to his head, pulling, sucking, licking. He's getting close, I know he'll tell me when to stop, and I know I'll go on just that little bit longer, teasing him.
He sits up. "I want to watch you masturbate", he says, reaching for the camera on his phone. I lie back and stretch out my hand. I shouldn't be surprised at how swollen and wet my pussy is, but I am. I circle my clit with my fingertip, knowing he is watching. I feel him opening my lips further, entering me with his fingers, and it excites me to hear the shutter on the camera going off and that noise his phone makes when video recording begins. He knows my cries very well, and he takes a picture right at the point of my orgasm.
Sometimes when I've cum, I am desperate to feel his cock inside me right away, and that's what he gives me, sliding straight inside and pounding me against the springy clover bed. Well, there was one thistle, but who's caring now? He switches to scissors, our bodies at right angles but joined at the core. I feel his curve, his hardness, his excitement. I encourage him with the words I know he loves to hear, instructing him where, what, how. And then he explodes, yelling into the evening sky.
The sun is nearly down over the ridge now, and we clean up, dress, and pack everything we've brought with us. I fold up the picnic rug. The only sign of our visit is the slightly flattened patch of clover, and even that will be gone in ten minutes, as if it never happened.
Except that it did.
The perfect way to spend the day with nature... Such a yummy description.
AbsintheFather
Passing some time
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I don't think I'll need my coffee to wake up this morning. That did quite nicely.
Thank you for sharing.
numeniusa
Probably naked...
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Thank you, Simon
I thought I'd better write it all down whilst it was fresh in my memory... I know you are no stranger to outdoor sex. I am more of a stranger to it than I would like, but that place was just perfect... makemewet69
Whisper to me...
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Thank you, Simon
Oh was this the clearing you told me about? It sounds like you had an amazing time! I'm still searching for the perfect spot for when CJ comes for a visit in a few weeks. Now I'm going to search even harder because that sounds heavenly
numeniusa
Probably naked...
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stratford. lovely place when it's sunny. got absolutely blootered there one evening about six years ago. no idea what the pub was called!
Probably the 'Dirty Duck', by the river just up from the theatre, I expect. That's where we usually go!
The actors quite often eat in there after the play is done, as they serve food til late. Tamsin Grieg was in there one time I recall, very attractive in real life, much more than comes across on-screen. And almost the entire cast of 'Goodness Gracious Me' after a Bollywood-themed 'Much Ado about Nothing', which sounds odd, but it was brilliant!
It's a bit 'Will-centric', is Stratford, but I do like it.
numeniusa
Probably naked...
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numeniusa
Probably naked...
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I don't think I'll need my coffee to wake up this morning. That did quite nicely.
Thank you for sharing.
Hehe.... Glad to be of service, AF
And lovely to see you here, I hope you'll pop in often to chat
numeniusa
Probably naked...
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Oh was this the clearing you told me about? It sounds like you had an amazing time! I'm still searching for the perfect spot for when CJ comes for a visit in a few weeks. Now I'm going to search even harder because that sounds heavenly
Yes! Exactly the place. Secluded enough for complete nakedness and relaxation. And ... other things...
AbsintheFather
Passing some time
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Hehe.... Glad to be of service, AF
And lovely to see you here, I hope you'll pop in often to chat
Well, there have been a couple times when I've wanted to send you a pm in response to a post, but obviously that's not an option. Although I knew this thread existed, I wasn't a subscriber until last week when I made a post. It now pops up on my list so you'll likely see more of me - for better or for worse
numeniusa
Probably naked...
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Well, there have been a couple times when I've wanted to send you a pm in response to a post, but obviously that's not an option. Although I knew this thread existed, I wasn't a subscriber until last week when I made a post. It now pops up on my list so you'll likely see more of me - for better or for worse
I shall look forward to it!
This thread kind of is my Inbox, really
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