A Tiramessy Picnic

This story was written especially for 'Wamgirlx', and wouldn't have been possible without her input.

It was mid-September, but the sun was still hot enough to make Alison and Neill grateful for the shade of a tree for their picnic. Neill insisted on spreading the picnic blanket and setting out the things himself, so that Alison could meanwhile paddle in the glittering shallows of the estuary the other side of the grassy path. They both had a day off work, and the path, never busy even at weekends, was deserted.

Alison lifted the hem of her skirt to keep it dry, and called, 'The mud's lovely and squidgy in between my toes.' She took a few more steps. 'And the water's not cold at all.' The tide was bringing water over sun-warmed riverbed.

Glancing at Neill, she had the impression that he was looking at her legs. She smiled to herself, and lifted the dress higher. Then she called, 'It's all quite sensuous, actually.' She felt confident about her long runner's legs. Sometimes she wished she dared let him be the first man to see her breasts. If she'd been blessed with big boobs she might have had the confidence.

After a few minutes Neill called, 'Ali! It's ready.'

'This looks really good,' Alison said, trailing muddy footprints as she walked towards the picnic.

'Oh, well,' said Neill, gruff with modesty. 'I like to do things for you and me, you know.'

'You have proper picnic plates. And cloth napkins!'

'When you said you liked picnics, I decided it was worth investing in the right equipment,' he explained.

Alison sat down on the blanket, taking care to keep her muddy feet off it.

Neill had prepared three courses. After they'd eaten egg salad and then sausage rolls, he produced tiramisu in a plastic tub.

Alison said, 'Oh, wow, Neill. You know, I'd have been happy with cheese sandwiches and a banana each.'

Neill smiled shyly and said, 'You're better than that.' He pulled the lid off the tub and inspected the tiramisu. 'The recipe's maybe come out a bit sloppy.'

It was when he was tapping the serving spoon on the side of Alison's bowl that a creamy drop of tiramisu flew off and landed on her leg, midway between her ankle and her knee. Neill said, 'Sorry,' and automatically reached out and wiped it off with his forefinger. He cleaned his finger on his napkin.

'It felt nice, actually,' Alison laughed.

'In that case...' He grinned, and deliberately flicked half a spoonful onto her, just a little higher. Alison laughed again, but swallowed nervously as he wiped it off, more slowly this time. And this time he cleaned his finger with his tongue.

Neill glanced at her face and said at once, 'I'm sorry, Ali.'

'It's just that...' There was apology in her blue eyes. 'It's like the longer I've never done it the bigger a thing it's become.' She faltered before saying, to make amends, 'But -- but if you like you could do that again.'

He re-filled the spoon.

The creamy tiramisu landed on the front of her thigh. Neill ran his palm upwards from just above her knee, until his forefinger swept away the cream. But he let his hand rest in place for a moment. Alison took a long breath as she watched.

With provocative slowness he ran his tongue over his finger, keeping his eyes on hers. Then he hesitated before stumbling out, 'Maybe -- I mean -- perhaps -- I don't need to use my fingers to clean off the next lot.'

Alison reddened. 'You mean -- use your -- tongue?' She cleared her throat, said firmly, 'It's a waste of this lovely tiramisu,' and picked up her bowl and spoon. They ate in silence.

When they had finished, Neill said, 'There's masses more.'

'It was delicious, thanks, but no thank you,' Alison said politely.

'It's much too runny, anyway. I should have made something I'd done before.'

'Nothing to apologise for.'

They needed to put the embarrassment behind them. 'Tell you what,' Neill said, 'It's your turn to set a dare.'

'OK. Let's see.' She grinned the grin he liked so much. 'I'm entering you in a men's wet T-shirt competition. So get to it.'

Neill immediately sprang up, ran to a tussock at the water's edge -- the tide was now right up -- sat on the tussock, and began to tear off his shoes and socks.

'Hey!' laughed Alison. 'I only meant your top half.'

'No half-measures,' said Neill firmly, and toppled into the water.

When he emerged and stumbled towards her, hampered by his streaming, clinging trouser legs, Alison could not stop laughing. 'I thought you'd pour the water bottle on yourself.'

'Where's the fun in that?'

'Lunatic,' she laughed. 'Take your T-shirt off. You'll catch your death of cold.' She had never before had such a good view of his torso, and she liked what she saw through the wet, mud-streaked fabric that sculpted itself to his pectorals.

When he had peeled himself free and was wringing out the T-shirt he said, 'My turn.'

'Go on,' said Alison, stealing a quick look at his naked upper body.

Neill caught the tail end of the look. 'Your dare is --' He hesitated. 'It's to do a challenge.'

'What do I have to do for this challenge?'

'Nothing.'

Alison asked, suspicious but amused, 'Nothing at all?'

'You're allowed to breathe, obviously.'

'So not move or speak? How long does this go on for?'

'Thirty seconds.'

'Hm. I think you're going to tickle my bare feet, but I do trust you, so OK. Only let me get in a good position.' She leaned well forward, gripped her muddy calves above her ankles, and tensed.

'Starting now.' He knelt beside her.

Alison's head was tilted forward and her straight, sun-streaked brown hair hung down either side of her neck, exposing the nape and the top of her spine. Neill put two fingers down the back of her dress -- considerately holding it away from the target area -- tilted the tiramisu tub over her bare skin and slopped out a healthy dollop. Alison gasped 'oh!' as the cold goo hit her, and sat right up, her spine concave. The tiramisu immediately slithered down out of sight.

Alison gave a massive shudder and gasped.

'You shouldn't have straightened up,' said Neill anxiously. 'I meant it to stay on your neck.'

'It's still sliding down my spine. And it's freezing,' she said.

'Tiramisu is always served chilled.' His grin was sheepish.

'It makes my spine tingle.' Her eyes widened. 'A bit slithered down to the crack of my bum.'

Neill swallowed and suggested tentatively, 'Maybe you ought to do a forfeit. For failing the dare.'

'Wait a moment.' She leaned back, her arms straight, palms to the ground. 'I'm trying to keep it from getting squished into my dress. OK, go on.'

He shifted his kneeling position, pulled the neckline of her dress forward and tipped a generous helping of tiramisu into the gap. The air left her lungs in a rush.

'You...,' she panted. 'You...'

Neill reddened, shocked at his own daring.

She managed to steady her breathing. 'It wouldn't be so bad if it had landed in the middle and stayed there.'

He looked relieved. Apparently this crime could be forgiven. He asked, 'Where has it gone, then?'

She blushed and lowered her eyes, but couldn't help laughing. 'Nosy man. Let's just say I'm not wearing a bra.'

'Um -- and how does it feel?'

She glanced up at him from under her long lashes, her lips curled with reluctant amusement. 'Sort of... nice, actually.'

'OK. Um -- what sort of, sort-of-nice?'

'Well...' She looked down at her left breast and smoothed the summery cotton over it with her slender fingers. The cloth was damp and stuck to her, and it peaked where a hard and sturdy nipple was jutting. Suddenly it was Neill's breath that was heavy.

Still blushing, she murmured, 'Perhaps you ought to wipe the stuff off my behind with your napkin.'

He nodded. She rolled over and lay with her torso propped on one elbow, and reached behind her to slide the hem of her dress above her panties.

Her panties were white, and plain except for a little lace at the leg-holes. They fitted rather low, and the tiramisu had come to rest on the triangle just above the cleft between her cheeks. A thin trail of white cream continued a short way into the cleft.

Neill carefully wiped her pale skin clean, then poured on a trickle from the bottle of cold sparkling water -- this made her squeak -- and wiped again with a clean corner, breathing heavily throughout. He went a little further into the crack than was perhaps strictly necessary.

'I've finished.'

'Thank you. I'm going to turn over.' She did not pull her dress down.

Her face was even more flushed when she was sitting up again. She said quietly, 'I'm sorry I was cross. By the way, you -- you made my front messy too.'

He breathed, 'That was wrong of me.'

Slowly she lifted the front of her dress. 'Look at the mess you've made.'

He stared at the white and coffee-coloured creamy goo that spread from the centre of her lean chest across to her left nipple. After a moment she slipped her dress right off over her head. Then she scooped some tiramisu off herself with her fingers, and held them towards his face.

'Now you've made me get my hand all messy. Lick it off.'

Neill leaned forward, put out his tongue, and licked, his eyes fixed on her face. She turned her hand this way and that until it was clean.

Then she put both her hands either side of his head and pulled him to her.

As his tongue met the softness of her breast she took a sharp breath. The smears of tiramisu began to vanish under his exploring tongue. His eyes were closed. She leaned back, holding him against her. As his tongue reached her nipple she let out a short 'hhhh...'. And then he was sucking her firm, thick, dark nipple, sucking soft breast into his mouth, pressing the nipple with his tongue, rubbing across it. His hand went to her other breast and his fingers fastened on her other nipple.

She almost whimpered, 'Don't stop. Don't ever stop.'

All the same, after a time he moved down, kissing below her nipple, kissing her chest, moving towards her navel. She lifted his head away from her.

'Hey!' she said, grinning. 'I said don't stop.' He tried to move back to her breast but she thrust him away even further. Her eyes were sparkling. 'Give me the tub.' Neill handed her the tub of tiramisu. 'Now just watch till I say.'

She took the tub in one hand and hooked her other thumb into the waistband of her panties, right on the centre line. She lifted the waistband away from her flat, athletic groin so that a gap opened up and showed a tantalising glimpse of dark hair. She slanted the tub, and all the rest of the tiramisu slid and slopped into the opening. A faint, wet snap came as she let go of the waistband.

She lay back, flat on the ground, put her right hand on the front of her panties, and began to work the damp cloth against herself, pressing the creamy, coffee-scented ooze into her crack with her middle finger. Neill swallowed drily. She crooked her left elbow behind her head and looked down her body at his lustful gaze.

She said, 'Pull my panties down,' and lifted her pelvis to help. 'Get them right off. Go on.'

When she was fully exposed he leaned his head forward towards the triangle of dark, clogged hair. The tiramisu had squelched out beyond the panties and gunked the tops of her inner thighs. He put out his tongue, but Alison put a hand on his chest and stopped him.

He watched as she ran both hands over her messy crotch, coating her fingers and palms, and kept quite still as she reached out and smeared his face. Then she said, 'I think I'm ready.' She opened her legs.

He was out of his trousers and pants with a speed that made her smile, his heavy, stiff cock nodding as if enjoying its freedom.

He knelt between her wide-open legs. She put a sticky hand on both sides of his face and drew it towards hers. She was still smiling, though she swallowed nervously as he shifted his body forward.

She knew he was only a little more experienced than she was. Reaching down with one coffee-scented hand, she gripped the shaft of his cock. Now that she was about to take it inside herself it felt thicker and harder than she'd imagined, more troubling yet more desirable. She angled it towards her hole and tugged it forward. She needed cock, his cock, inside her. Now.

She could feel its tip pressing her while they kissed.

A stinging from down there. That must be the web of her virginity. She felt pressure. He was pressing harder and harder, really driving at her now. The stinging grew, but she found she could stand it and so it was exciting, part of her passion. The stinging came to a peak. A moment later he was just inside her. A cock opening her vagina. His cock. The best cock in the world..

She'd always known he was kind. Even though his mouth was ravishing hers, he was only making small thrusts with his cock, letting her accept it between thrusts, slowly driving further and further into her innocent pussy. When their pubic bones were finally pressed together he stopped and looked into her face, smiling when he saw her smile. He kissed the tip of her nose.

He started pushing in and out, and it was beautiful. She smiled as she heard the wet noises from down there, and not only from the tiramisu. She was being fucked! Her arms around her man! Her cunt hugging his cock!

She wanted it to go on and on, but he murmured something and next moment she felt a heat inside. His cum. He was giving her his cum. He pressed hard into her, little jerks of his pelvis as she took his sperm. She wrapped him fiercely with her arms until the thrusts ended. Then it occurred to her that she might be crushing the breath out of him, and she let him lie on her chest, panting and demolished. She suddenly realised that she was grinning triumphantly.

They walked back to the car with her coffee-flavoured panties in the picnic basket. They'd washed the remains of the tiramisu off themselves with river water, and rinsed her stained dress out too. It was damp, and crumpled from being wrung out, and a middle-aged man walking his dog tried not to stare.

They were silent, holding hands happily. It was just after they'd got in the car that Alison said mischievously, 'I make quite a sloppy trifle, actually.'

Neill squirmed in his seat as if his underpants had abruptly shrunk several sizes, and Alison leaned across to place a kiss on his cheek-bone.