tagFetishDavid's Summer of '61

David's Summer of '61

byThorilla©

It was the summer of 1961 and I was 21 years old and was continuing with my hobby of bird watching. I had spent the previous two weeks on the banks of Brantwood Water in the English Lake District. I had been studying waterfowl including Gadwall, Teal, Pochard, Snipe and Grebes. I had also managed to identify many water margin birds including Warblers, Wagtails and Buntings. I had kept elaborate records in my diary. All in all it had been a brilliant summer and the weather had behaved impeccably.

One afternoon I decided to explore the sloping grassland overlooking the lake. I made my way up to a fairly high vantage point, on a south facing slope, and sat there with my binoculars taking in the beauty and scenic grandeur which lay before me. I saw a Merlin falcon hunting some way to the east, hovering in the sunlight. The sun streamed down as I lay there in my jeans and t-shirt.

After a while I fell asleep listening to the songs of Meadow Pipits and Skylarks.

An hour or so later I awoke, aware of people's voices nearby. I looked around and about a hundred yards to my left, slightly downhill from me, were two women walking up the slope.

As they got to my level I waved at them and they waved back. They changed direction and walked directly towards me. As they approached I was aware that they wore 'just below the knee' length summer dresses which appeared a little incongruous for walkers, particularly on sloping ground. As they neared they were clearly out of breath and slowed down to a standstill.

"I can't go much further Phoebe," said the taller one with blonde hair. "We'd better stop here for a rest."

They called to me and asked whether I minded them joining me.

I replied "Not at all."

Lying back I looked at them in more detail. They must both have been in their early forties and appeared athletic, slim and tanned. One had blonde hair and 'Phoebe' had auburn hair. Both wore similar floral-patterned summer dresses gathered at the waist and quite full with flounces at the hem. They carried small day sacks and wore flat white plimsolls. These, I suppose, were the equivalent of 'trainers' in those days.

My hands behind my head, I squinted at them as they neared. Standing in front of the sun there skirts appeared almost transparent and I clearly became aware of every shapely contour of their legs and thighs. Cynthia, the taller blonde haired one introduced themselves and said they had not meant to climb this high as they had set off merely to explore the lake margin. I told them about my ornithology, and they appeared quite interested.

They moved closer and stood with their backs to me admiring the extensive panorama towards the lake. From my low vantage point I became transfixed by the hems of their skirts. Summer breezes lifted them slightly revealing their legs up to the backs of their knees. I thought by moving my head to one side I might secretly be able look under their skirts, particularly Cynthia's. Unfortunately the wind dropped and Cynthia moved out of range further down slope.

Phoebe walked up to me, smiled sweetly, and looked down. She said they had some sandwiches and I was very welcome to join them. She appeared to be standing 'too' close to my face for comfort, and again I was aware of gusts of wind lifting the front part of her skirt giving me tantalising glimpses of knees and lower thighs.

She asked me further details on my bird watching, Our conversation was a stilted affair as I tried to retain eye contact but instinctively my eyes were drawn to her thighs whenever their was a breeze. I had a fixed, almost insane, smile on my face as my eyes darted from her face to her skirt hem and then to her face again.

She asked whether she could borrow my binoculars.

I said "Be my guest." as I handed them up to her.

She asked me about focusing and stepped back slightly so her leg was within a few inches of my face. I moved closer to her and slid sideways so I could clearly see up her dress at the next gust of wind.

"Yes." she said scanning the lake edge "I can see where we've walked from."

I said "Oh really," in excited tones, my penis beginning to stiffen.

The third gust of wind blew her dress wide open and my eyes feasted on pure white cotton panties with a lace trim. She seemed unaware of my presence beneath her.

"Goodness I can even see our holiday cottage," she said in excited tones. "Cynthia, come over here, you can see our cottage," she yelled.

Cynthia appeared at her side and I shifted position so I could see up Cynthia's skirt if the wind got up. Phoebe handed her my binoculars. She moved nearer, looked down at me, and asked about focussing which I explained.

As she was using it she seemed to lose her balance slightly and stepped back. For some reason she had placed her foot on the other side of my head and ended up straddling my face. I could not believe my luck. From out of nowhere two attractive, slim middle aged women were giving me upskirt views of their knickers. My penis again stiffened.

Cynthia became quite animated as she worked out where they had walked from and she transferred her weight from one leg to another. At each movement her legs opened and closed and I noticed she wore a pair of cream coloured lacy panties. She seemed unaware of me between her feet, staring up her skirt as the two women passed the binoculars one to the other.

Cynthia, at one point, stared down at me, pulling her skirt in so she could see my face, and asked what sort of a duck had mainly grey plumage. I replied that it was probably a male Gadwall.

She let go of her skirt which flared out above me and continued with her search. She stood in this position for about fifteen minutes. Sometimes she looked down at me, asking me questions, while pulling in her dress; other times she'd stand above me, legs apart, with the wind blowing her skirt from side to side.

If I wasn't a gentleman I would have been wanking furiously beneath her dress staring up at her beautiful rounded buttocks and singing bawdy sea shanties at the top of my voice.

Phoebe said it was time for some sandwiches. I asked if they wanted any help, as Cynthia stepped off me, and they told me that everything was in hand.

I remained lying on my back absorbing the sunlight which appeared more intense than ever. A flock of Lapwings flew over, buffeted by the breeze. I was aware of paper bags being opened noisily behind me. Phoebe and Cynthia had established their 'base camp' immediately uphill from where I was lying.

After five minutes they announced "Grub up."

I turned over and lay on my stomach and was greeted with a rather 'unusual' sight.

The sandwiches had been arranged on two plastic plates. A small container full of carrot and celery pieces was close by and mugs of hot tea had been poured. I was handed a mug by Phoebe who was sitting next to Cynthia. Both women sat immediately upslope from me and their alfresco meal.

"Those are fish paste and these are cheese and chutney," announced Phoebe smiling at me.

I said, "Thanks very much and I do hope that I am not robbing you."

What was so unusual about the view, from where I was lying, was that instead of sitting demurely with their legs tucked behind them out of sight, both ladies sat with their knees drawn up together and their feet apart.

They had covered their knees with their summer dresses but clearly were unaware that their thighs and panties were on full view. They were either unaware or didn't care.

"Help yourself David. We've got more food in the other day sack." Said Cynthia.

Each of the two plates lay between each of their feet. They leant forward and helped themselves. I slid further towards them so my face was almost at plate level.

I had a fish paste sandwich and an excellent view of Cynthia's knickers. Both women appeared to be dazzled by the sun as they surveyed the view across the valley.

They were enjoying a long leisurely conversation about their holiday. I seemed to be temporarily excluded from it. In my state of heightened sexual tension I was quite thankful to be left to admire more 'local views.' From my viewpoint the sun illuminated every detail of the ladies' inner thighs and exposed underwear.

It was fortunate that I was lying on my stomach as, with my erection, had I been on my back, Phoebe and Cynthia might have mistaken it for a new peak on the horizon. It appeared, at least to me, to be of those massive proportions.

I chewed my way slowly through several sandwiches staring contentedly at both pairs of knickers, a mere three feet in front of me. The tea, I made last as long as possible. Phoebe asked me whether I wanted an apple as she reached into her bag.

Speaking to her panties I said "yes please," and was handed a shiny green one.

"Don't worry they've all been washed." she confirmed in a jolly manner. I slowly began eating it staring at Cynthia's lacy nylon panties. I noticed that they were slightly stained at the front. They were crying out to me to be sniffed and snuffled.

In my head I balanced up the risk of sliding my face up her skirt and into her knickers. At worse she would scream and run away, at best she may allow me access. I moved my head until it was almost in the plate of sandwiches between Cynthia's feet.

"Let me move those out of the way for you." said Cynthia moving the food to one side. I put my mug and apple down as I positioned my head further towards her. I was aware of her moving her knees slightly apart as my head brushed her ankle. The atmosphere was electric. My heart thumped wildly. Cynthia was continuing her conversation with Phoebe and began reaching around for things to pass to her including my mug.

I pushed further up. I was actually under her dress and her thighs were almost within licking distance. Phoebe asked me if I wanted any more food clearly aware of my progress up her friend's skirt.

"I'm quite full thank you," I stammered, rather self consciously.

"Pass me that plate please Cynthia," said Phoebe, clearly tidying things away.

I moved my face further up her skirt so that I could lick her warm thighs which I did.

Her knees slid further apart as she allowed me to continue my underskirt exploration. Cynthia pulled her skirt hem firmly over her knees presumably to shield my lewd activities from Phoebe's eyes.

Phoebe was asking Cynthia what they had got in the cottage for tea and whether they should call in at the village shop for milk on the way back.

Meanwhile my nose nuzzled her nylon gusset and I breathed in nectar. Her odour was indescribable and seemed to blend with all the outdoor natural smells surrounding me.

I rubbed my nose up and down her pubic area, licking and probing with my tongue.

After several minutes her juices began to flow and filled my nostrils with an exotic musky perfume. I was delirious with pleasure and wished I could remain under her skirt for the rest of the afternoon. I wasn't sure how far I should proceed with stimulating her, but that decision was taken away from me.

I became aware of her closing her legs slightly and felt her hand firmly pushing my head out. Clearly I had overstayed my welcome and she may have been embarrassed at Phoebe's presence.

I withdrew my head after kissing her thighs in gratitude and rolled back on my back trying to hide my subsiding erection, I lay there slightly confused.

I heard the two women pack there bags and was handed my half eaten apple.

To each side of me they took their leave and thanked me for the use of the binoculars.

I smiled up at them and thanked them for the food.

Both smiled back and turned to go.

After a few paces Cynthia turned her head and looked at me and mouthed "Thank you" and smiled at me in a very sad way.

I lay back, my mind in turmoil, and listened to the Skylark as the sun's rays began to cool.

end

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