Into the Woods

He sighed in happiness. I possibly did, too. I leaned forward to press him where it would do most good, and let my arse bounce up and down on his prick, the fresh countryside air making a breeze over my bum, resting on my forearms by his sides.

"Oh, yeah! You're so good, sweetheart. My beautiful wood nymph..."

He became incoherent, and I bent further to kiss him and concentrated on clinging onto his bucking-bronco shaft. I guessed my brown hair and his, and his half-clad legs, wouldn't show much through

the leaves, but if anyone was around, the shining white globes of my arse would reflect the sun and draw attention like a flashing lighthouse. Just as well the horse-chestnut leaves dangled down and the sycamores and bracken grew upwards, blocking that sunlight completely from that angle.

Nearly completely. I could feel the warmth. Almost as hot as David's skin.

His come, when it shot upwards into me, felt near boiling.

I used some large sycamore leaves to mop myself down with. A towel would be handy, next time. Oh yes, certainly there would be a next time. Only getting my kit off once I was safely in private, to be sure -- for my blood pressure, you understand. But still, definitely, we would be doing this again.

We lay down to chat and relax. Just chewing the fat, hanging out together, was something I'd missed too, even though my new colleagues made decent companions for conversation.

In fact, 'next time' was barely an hour later, when I'd enticed David's cock back to life. It hadn't been difficult, just the barest suggestion of my tongue around it, and I settled down for him to do me doggy-style.

The space was just about long enough. My forehead rested on leaves on the bare earth, and fern leaves and hawthorn tangled with my hair as my toes poked into the soil. I was filthy, in every sense.

I loved it. Relaxing in the warmth, not a stitch on, but the trees trying to dress me in their own way.

And finally, getting well fucked again, just like I needed. Oh, yes. Deep and hard, with David's sizeable thick cock filling me up, his hands holding my thighs still, I needed to do nothing other than accept these forceful thrusts into my cunt.

My face rubbed the fragments of leaves as I was rocked back and forth, my white breasts also being brushed across the ground and turning brown with dirt.

Brilliant. I pushed my face into the forest floor to muffle my screams. Only problem was, after all that, despite a short rest, I needed to get up and stretch properly.

"Come on. You can stand up outside this glade. It's still off the path." I did so, and eased my stiff joints. We were still well secluded. "Look at you, all vines and strands of leaves in your hair. My beautiful dryad."

"Don't you talk a lot of old nonsense." I was, actually, quite charmed.

David began to stroke all over my body, especially my bare still-pale bottom, getting himself as dirty as I was.

"Aren't you filthy," he told me. "Oh! There's that man, watching you again, watching this sexy wood-nymph in the forest..."

I recoiled. No, surely!

"Only joking! It's just you and me."

"You bastard."

"Language, sweetie! Did you like a stranger wanting you? He did, you know."

I denied it, but it was a lie. I didn't want the man -- I'd been terrified, no desire whatsoever on my part -- but the fact that a strange man had seen me nude and wanted my body -- yeah, however much I'd never admit it, there was a secret bit of me that got aroused by that.

"Should I have invited him to join in? Or no, actually; he looked like a bit of a pillock. Someone else, then. Someone hot, that you'd like. Him off that film yesterday, maybe? Two pairs of hands running over you, like this..."

I struggled to maintain my balance. "Hold this branch," David instructed. He pulled one down that was almost a waist-height bar, only too bendy. Good for balance, not for taking my weight. "No, let's bend that one back -- take this one."

David got me to shuffle forward, and I trod down the prickles in the way. This new branch was solid, firm to lean on, if not exactly horizontal. Nature isn't that convenient. I rested my forearms on the bark and let him continue to fondle me all over. A breeze wafted up as I parted my feet, meeting the moisture where my legs met. With all his come inside me, and my own juices, I was dripping.

"My gorgeous, sexy, dryad." He was running some soft leaves over my body -- morning-glories, he said later.

The sunshine on my thighs had them so relaxed, my legs trembled. The rough bark and lichens of the oak branch pressed into my forearms and chest, but it held fast. I could rest my weight on it.

Just as well, given the distractions of David's fingers, pushing inside me, pinching my pussy lips, and brushing, terrifyingly gently, over my clit.

I felt a small stream of his come, trickling out of me.

He carried on fondling me for some time, as I blended into the tree I was gripping. Just part of the woods. We didn't have any reason to hurry, so he took his time, carefully massaging me all over, every spot of my bare flesh woken to being touched, whether it was by his hand, his face, the wind, the warmth of the sun, or various leaves handing down and patting across my skin. Sensations, all over. I felt I was tingling with the joy of life.

Perhaps the repressed fear of discovery and the thrill of law-breaking added to that excited feeling.

I wasn't sure what David was feeling -- he seemed positively blasé about public nudity, especially seeing as it wasn't his. But he was certainly loving my body. Him getting hard again was a blatant clue. It had been another good half-hour, I supposed.

So he fucked me again. I confess I was already so slippery and wet that I didn't feel it so much compared to the previous occasions, but it was still glorious. Just standing there and listening to his breath as he got more and more aroused, finally him groaning into my ear, the tree-branch creaking as he pushed me back and forth, all made it a stunning erotic experience for me even before I thought about how I was being filled up again.

I hung onto the tree for dear life, squeezing myself round his cock to hang on to that precious thick rod, until he made a final noise: "Ah-ah-ah-AAH..."

An annoyed great-tit had been making its own saw-creaking noises nearby, and its friends felt they had to make clear to David that they were the singers of this wood, thank you very much. A chaffinch replied with a squawk of 'eh-eh-eh-AH', while other songbirds, I guessed possibly a nuthatch and wren, joined in the cacophony. David moved to pull out of me again, and they fluttered up into the treetops, taking their racket away.

I admit, I really was loving the feeling of being naked out in the wood. Being soaking wet, moisture running down my legs, then being dried by the sun, felt so sticky and filthy. If only I could be 100% relaxed there, as opposed to in our secret lair. The loud birdsong had been a comforting confirmation of no other humans being around.

"I'll make anyone go away. Anyhow, they won't want to draw attention to themselves. Bet they'll hide behind the hedge, just peeking, admiring your lovely arse while they get their dicks out and play with themselves... You know what? Maybe there's a couple guys there right now, looking at you, watching all that jizz coming down your leg, and wishing they could have you."

He paused, while I visualised men hiding, watching me. "And look at your breasts, all hanging down there, like ripe apples -- all ready to be plucked..." He pinched one nipple and tugged it downwards, then the other. "Those guys are going to be so hard, just thinking about your gorgeous tits... And I get to have them, ner-ner!"

I was thinking about these hypothetical men thinking about my breasts. Another gush of wetness came from my cunt.

"How do you feel, knowing anyone watching you is going to be stiff as steel? All because of your wood-nymph magic? The beautiful sexy dryad, luring men with her naked beauty? You like it? So powerful..."

"Yes," I breathed.

"Yes, what?"

Saying it would make it true. Would that be a bad thing? Could it be, in my natural habitat, here? "Yes, I like that men look at me and get turned on..."

"Yeah, look at you, so wet." He hoiked out more moisture from me with two crooked fingers, and rubbed it across my throat. "You know what that makes you? A slut."

It's an insulting word, oftentimes, but, when meaning someone who wants loads of sex, as he used it, I resembled that remark very strongly.

I wanted to be a slut.

His slut. The wood's slut.

"Yes, I'm a slut."

The sun's slut. Nature's slut.

"Lean forward." He helped me bend further over the branch, my waist now on it, tits and arms hanging over the far side. My breasts felt heavy, dangling down. Like fruit, ready to be picked, possibly even growing in the warm sunlight. I glanced down. Yes, definitely ripening slightly red. Hope it's not sunburn...surely not? No, just the angle of the light, reflecting off leaves.

David ran his hot hand down my back. His hand was calloused and a bit rough over my smooth, cooler skin. Then he slid it over my bottom.

My smooth round bottom that was exposed to all the elements, for the first time since me being a tiny tot running naked in fountains. Still tender and squeezable. David gripped handfuls of my flesh, firmly, and I breathed out, loving that possessed feeling. He rubbed in little gentle circles on each of my bare bum cheeks. It sensitised my skin, every tiny hair standing on end on my bare bum.

And then he tapped, gently, a few times on one arse cheek, a similar number on the other. It didn't hurt. We'd concluded spanking wasn't really my kink, but this soft patting, drawing attention to my bottom, reddening as the lowering sun shone upon it, was delightful. David rubbed in his markings he'd made, and it was a fantastic sensual experience. I ended up purring like a cat under his heavy, firm, hands.

"You like this? My warm hands, all the cool air..."

"Yeah..."

"Aw. You're a little exhibitionist after all, aren't you, poppet?"

"No." Firmly. Only for the trees.

"Well, I'm loving looking at you. Naked from top to toe." He punctuated the words with his hands, one clawing up through my hair, the other swooping down one leg. "Your soft smooth skin, all surrounded with leaves and trees."

I grunted.

"Seriously. You all pinky-brown, then long strands of leaves wrapped round you. It's like those French curly paintings, by wotsizface."

"Who? What d'ya mean, curly?"

"Not Art Deco... the other one."

"Art Nouveau?"

"That's it. And thingy. You know, like that poster you bought me in Paris. Coffee bloke."

"Ah. Mucha." I despaired of David's inability to remember words and names, but

his ability to create strange connections in his brain and mine to decode them - mocha, really -- meant we usually got there in the end.

"Yeah, him. What I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted," - he squeezed my bottom again to confirm he was joking - "you look like one of the women in his paintings. You've got the long hair, all falling down. Bare shoulders. Bare legs. Nature all round. Just need a flower in your hair..." He plucked something and twisted it into my hair. "There. A perfect work of art!"

He stroked down my entire bare body and stepped back.

"North London Nude: the Dryad Awakes. What do you think?"

"That you're a daft sausage!"

"Seriously. You're gorgeous. I wish I could draw... You look like you belong here, your colours and the trees all go together... My dryad. A sex goddess coming out from the forest."

I couldn't help feeling flattered. One thing I liked about David was that he wasn't shy about expressing his feelings. And, as mentioned earlier, he was a useless liar. His frequent reminders were starting to convince me I might actually be beautiful.

And yes, I was starting to feel that I might be a dryad, a tree goddess, in my woodland. And certainly, that he was worshipping me.

Though all I said was, "Guess that makes you a sex god."

And we both laughed as he replied, "Was there ever any question about that?"

"Depends. Can you fuck me again, right here?"

"Oh, I think I could manage that!" The wonder of a man in his early twenties.

He'd ploughed deep into me as I bent over the branch, before mentioning, "Begging to be fucked, while you're naked in public? What a little hussy you're turning into!"

He might be right, but I decided I'd been a bit of a hussy all along.

"Being in public is just coincidence. I'd much rather a comfy bed... actually, no, this is great... yeah, just keep doing that... oh yeah... oh yes... oh god..."

He stayed bending over me as I lost all coherent speech and hung onto my oak bough as if my life depended upon it.

"Good, yeah? I bet your yelling's alerted some more walkers. And bird-watchers. They'll be getting more than they bargained for... Pretend I just made a great pun about tits, there. But don't you worry, I've got you. Anyone watching you, I'll make them all bugger off, stay away... The most any of them will get to do is watch, and wish they -- were -- me!" He punctuated his speech with three vigorous thrusts that nearly had me off my feet.

He was struggling to stay standing, so was lying half on top of me, my chest pressing into the bark. I'd have red marks the next day, and I didn't care a jot. Worth it. He spoke quietly into my ear. "Oh, those poor, poor guys, just watching your beautiful hair, all your beautiful body, your beautiful arse getting fucked to high heaven, and all they can do is wank and look enviously... oh yeah, that guy's looks could kill... yeah... oh..."

I tried asking, was there really someone watching, but I was too busy panting ecstatically.

And it occurred to me, later, I didn't particularly care. No man would report a healthy-looking nude woman in the woods. The police wouldn't be called. Much more likely, that a man would phone up all his mates to come look, too.

Which could be kinda scary, but with David there to protect me...

I guessed it was a bit like girlie privilege when it came to being done for drunk and disorderly; short of actually puking over policemen, most men, including the plods, would happily just watch ladies getting a bit lairy.

All right, so maybe I did have a slight exhibitionist streak after all.

Eventually my screams, hoarse from my attempts to stifle them, abated.

The effort, from my trying not to be too loud, was too much. I had to collapse on the ground. It was lumpy and had too many stalks poking into me. David landed behind me, equally sated.

"You were joking about a guy watching us, weren't you?"

"Of course," he said.

He had to be lying about one of those, but whether it was when he said a man had been watching me or that he hadn't been, I still have no idea.

We dragged ourselves rapidly back into our safe den, where I could spread out on the ground. My stomach had acquired scratches and abrasions from the tree branch, but nothing too major. Nature's price for letting me fuck in her domain.

David stroked them better, with the lightest of touches, just like the breeze caressing me. I was still stark naked, and took my sandals off to complete the look. The air was still warm and sultry even though the sun was starting to go down, making my skin more golden than it was before.

"You're so beautiful," he said, continuing to run his fingers over my bare body, now coated in sweat, dirt from the ground, and fragments of leaves. He was looking pretty good himself, even with his jeans pulled up again -- his thighs filled them out well with taut muscle, and I reached to fondle his smooth flanks and his warm solid back with its light dusting of hair. We lay there, one-and-a-half nude bodies, sated, for nigh on an hour.

Night started to draw in. Soon we could hardly see each other. David whispered in my ear, "Should we go now, or are you up for one last round?"

I couldn't resist. I shifted round and let him plough me from behind, rutting like animals in the forest -- like the other animals, I should say. No doubt some foxes were getting it on nearby, and badgers and shrews, and the mice and voles. Sheep and rabbits, too, in the more distant fields. In our own lair, I felt totally at one with nature. I decided I really was the dryad David saw me as. A sweet-chestnut tree spirit, perhaps, or a copper beech. Not a cheeky young holly or a gnarled oak. Perhaps a silver birch?

Too soon, it got cold, and I needed my dress on again. I shoved my bra and briefs in the bag -- it would be too complicated to get them on, crouching in the dark.

We set off carefully back to the car, small fairy footsteps needed over the invisible rough ground. I was glad to reach the shelter of the car, whence David dialled up the local Chinese in readiness; even more glad once he'd acquired dinner and we got back to Stella's so I could put on a warm, cosy fleece. We went to eat out on the balcony attached to her lounge. Stella was on her sofa as usual, watching some plodding sitcom that only elderly people find funny.

"What have you been up to, dears? Exploring the nature reserve? Ooh, lovely. I do find it good, to see young people spending time out of doors. You don't want to be inside all the time, not at your age. I do hope you'll do it again."

David stroked over my arse where she couldn't see, but I could certainly feel the soft fabric brushing straight over my bare skin.

"I think we certainly will, as long as the weather holds," I assured her.

"It's supposed to be a lovely hot summer, I hear. Almost like nineteen seventy-six."

It really was a lovely long hot summer. Sometimes when David came down, I simply wore a long, loose dress without underwear and encouraged him in quick fucks from behind, but most of the days, when we wanted something more intimate and leisurely, I'd strip off and get naked in the depths of the woods again.

I'm still not sure how often we actually were watched. If at all. It's the one subject where David's become quite a good liar.

Though I did increasingly feel like an exhibitionist. I'm sure some of those trees were watching.