Marks of a Shepherd

In early nineteenth century France, shepherds were cut off from the rest of society while taking their flocks to green and uneaten pastures miles from any major settlement. Though most had accepted the solitude that the occupation brought in general, they had to be creative to find the companionship they could. Markings etched into the trees along nearby routes and roads indicated to passerby points of rendezvous, where shepherds and travelers could meet and stave off loneliness and satisfy their base desires.

Cesar was no exception. Markings on trees just off the roadside guided women passing through to the clearing in the woods between his village and the far-off pastures. He knew that Saturday evenings, when the women who went to sell and buy their goods returned from market he could as often as not return to the clearing where he left a wine-stained cup on a stump and find a woman waiting. Hearing the rustlings of one of the market ladies who would stroke her dress while she awaited him, as he walked the winding path towards her still made him aroused with anticipation. More so the occasions when he arrived first and heard footsteps eagerly approaching. Even as he neared thirty-five and he began to find spots of grey in his shaggy brown hair, it excited him. Every time, he would feel his heart beat faster and his cock begin to swell.

When Cecile met him there was when he enjoyed himself the most. She had been paying him visits for nearly a year now. He had known her in the village when they were children, and she still maintained a playful attitude towards him. She had married young to an older man, wealthy by the village's standards but hardly well-bred. Over the years he had turned colder and more miserly both in his spending and his affections, so Cecile resolved to find joy outside their marriage.

She learned quickly that Cesar was not so stingy. On her first visit to his rendezvous point, he poured the wine freely, and when she sat next to him and leaned in, he lavished her with kisses across her freckled cheeks. Though typically demure, she gasped and laughed aloud as his mouth migrated down to her neck, one hand holding hers and the other lifting her dress. He was generous, and she was appreciative. She took pride in the way her soft and quiet lips could reduce his lean and muscular body to a writhing mass of moans and twitches.

One late spring evening about a year into their affair, she brought half a bottle of red wine, having drank the rest on her way back from the market. She found him waiting for her, sitting on the ground looking to where the path entered the clearing. When his eyes met hers he stood up to greet her. "Cecile," he said, "what a lovely surprise." Her lips curled into something between a grin and a grimace. It was no surprise. She had stopped by last week and before leaving made him assure her that he would be in the same place come late Saturday afternoon. She told him that her husband had not touched her in months, and how great it felt when he wrapped her up and pulled her into him, how she loved the way the air touched her when he lifted up her dress. She had buried her head in his chest and told him he made her feel free and she needed to feel it again next week.

In the days that followed though, she had remembered this confession with embarrassment. She and Cesar shared their bodies freely but hid any emotional attachment they felt. Now she was relieved that he had arrived for her, but his allusion to her display last week made her ears hot. It was a small humiliation, yet she felt it deeply. She enjoyed how when he lifted her dress or tore down her stockings he held her, exposed to the world, seeming to remind it that she was his, if only for a moment. When her husband turned his head from her, Cecile liked to imagine it was because the wind that blew across her bare rear there in the woods had whispered in his ear that she was Cesar's now. But Cesar reminding her that she needed him and, in that way, knew she was his, felt different.

"Well, I was passing by," she said as he smirked.

"You even brought me wine," he said.

"Yes, and I've had my share so drink up."

He walked back to the stump and sat down, drank a few gulps quickly then looked back up at her. He looked prepared. She knew he had been imagining during the week as he tended his flock what he would do to her come Saturday. She wondered if he wanted to sit her down and tease her pussy with his fingers and tongue or if he would tell her to get on her hands and knees before he rode her like a rutting animal. For now, he was playing it cool. He sat sipping the wine she had poured for him. Cecile did not want to wait longer to feel Cesar's body on hers. She wore her frustration as confidence and strode over to where he sat.

She jumped on his lap as he sat on a stump and sipped wine out of his old cup, causing him to spill it down the front of her old green dress. "Well," she told him as she pulled it down below her breasts, "clean it up then." He paused, surprised at her sudden boldness but quickly felt desire take him as he nuzzled his face into her flesh. She laughed as he obliged, running his tongue up her sternum then taking one small breast in his mouth and the other in his hand. He softly squeezed her nipple as he breathed in the sticky liquid off her skin and pulled her tighter into his lap. Whatever tension or embarrassment she had felt earlier was quickly replaced with something more carnal

"It would be a shame to dirty your dress any more," he said. He reached his hands under her dress, and she lifted her arms in compliance, her face grinning and flushed as he lifted her dress above her head and threw it to the ground beside him. She wore only her white stockings, dotted with wine stains and the mud she kicked up on her way to their rendezvous. She looked down at them, her legs dangling off the side of his lap. The cool humid air on her chest reminded her how exposed she was and contrasted with the warm body below her. "Oh," she said smiling, "and we had better not sully your beautiful clothing." From the bottom to the top, she undid the buttons of his stained yellow shirt, running her hands across his chest as she reached the top. Already she could feel him getting harder through his cloth pants. She leaned into him and started to rock her hips, closing her eyes and drifting away into the smell of the forest, Cesar's hot breath, and the pressure against her vulva.

Cesar kissed her cheek and cupped her breast with one hand and massaged her thigh with the other. As she rocked, he saw the joy wash over her face. Cecile never found herself this carefree at home. On several occasions, she had met him there looking dour and ready to complain about her distance from her husband and how cold he acted both to her and the son they shared. Cesar knew there was nothing for him to do about that. She sighed and rubbed her ass against him, the wetness from her pussy already seeping through two layers of cloth to touch his skin. He was happy to be her escape. She would have to return, but while they were together there, she gave herself over to him with aplomb. Now she leaned into him with more weight. She ground herself against him harder until she nearly fell forward. She caught herself and leaned her head against his shoulder. He liked the feeling of her hair against his skin. "Please Cesar, I want to feel you inside me," she said, her eyes cast downward. He had waited for her here after she begged him last week, and though she was nervous to make requests of him now, she knew he would be happy to follow the order

Cesar held Cecile in his arms and rose to his feet. He laid her on the ground in front of where they sat, gingerly but quickly, as eager to fulfill her wish. She lifted her legs, and he grabbed her stockings and tore them off hungrily. She watched him as he stood above her, hastily unbuttoning and stepping out of his trousers. Despite their previous encounters, it was the first time Cesar had seen Cecile completely naked. In the past she would roll down the top of her dress while he lifted her skirts to get to her wet and waiting pussy. He was struck by how she wore her desire, in both her face and her pose. Her blonde hair was spilling out of the bun she wore on the top of her head. She leaned back on one hand to lift her lithe torso off the dusty ground while other had already begun rubbing circles between her open legs.

He knelt in front of her while she looked on. She could not tell if it was the excitement or the fresh air on her skin that made her nipples harden. As he leaned over her, the head of his cock nuzzled against her labia, she put her hands on his shoulders and pulled his lips into hers. She moaned into his mouth as he slid his throbbing dick halfway in. She lifted her hips, wrapping her legs around him and pulling him in further. She moaned and threw her head back as he pumped into her with his full length. Her mouth fell open, panting, as he pushed his flesh into hers and kissed her neck. The way Cecile let loose this time surprised Cesar. Though the area was secluded, the spring air was still, and he wondered if those walking along the road could hear her cry out in pleasure. It turned him on to think of how she was broadcasting his prowess. Her arms and legs wrapped around his muscular body, welcoming him deeper into her passage as he bucked his hips against hers. He laid his head on the ground next to hers, still maintaining his rhythm. She gazed at his panting mouth and took his bottom lip between hers. At this, Cesar began to slow his thrusts and linger inside. She savored the way he filled her. As she moaned and he increased his pace once more, her arms pulled tighter, wanting to feel his weight on her, pressing her tight to the ground as they fucked.

Cecile nearly shrieked when she came, clutching his shoulders and tensing against the ground as he lay over her. She lay trembling with her fingers in his hair and his cock still inside her as hot waves washed over her, like rays from the late afternoon sun trickling in through the treetops. When her orgasm, she sighed deeply and pulled him in for a kiss, savoring the ginger touch of his tongue against hers. Feeling himself near the edge as well, Cesar slid out of her and began stroking himself as she stared back at him, eyes half shut in some kind of reverence for the pleasure he'd just given her. Seeing him close to the edge, she began to lean forward. "Wait," she said softly. "Let me." Cesar obeyed, standing up in front of her and placing his hands behind his back, allowing Cecile full access to his erect cock, now wet with her juices. She crawled forward and placed a hand on its base. He looked down at her and saw that her cheeks were flushed a deep pink and her chest was damp with sweat.

Cecile paused to inhale the mix of her scent with his before she opened her lips and took his dick head into her mouth. Though it was not her first time holding him on her tongue like this, the feeling was felt still fresh to her, and she moved forward slowly to accommodate more of him into her mouth. She paused when her lips met the hand that held his base. She looked up at him and saw him shut his eyes as she began to bob her head in a slow rhythm. She took more and more of him into her mouth and then to her throat as she slid her hand off his base and onto his thigh. Cesar began to run his fingers through her hair, and she relished how he overwhelmed her senses. She knelt before him with his scent in her nostrils, his fingertips caressing her scalp, and his dick filling her mouth as she moved her head faster. Just then she felt him pulling back.

"Please Cecile, slow down. Your mouth is so soft. I want to savor the way you feel."

"Of course, Cesar." He had given her what she came there for, and she wanted to leave him more than just satisfied. She wanted him to make him burn for her. She wanted him to think of this fuck later in the week and lose his thoughts in an amorous haze. She stared up into his eyes. "Fuck my mouth however you like."

Not breaking her gaze, Cesar reached over and grabbed his cup and drank. He bent down and put his hands on her cheeks, He stroked them as he let the wine spill from his lips into her awaiting mouth. He stood back up. She gulped it down and looked back up at him. Her hair was still a mess from fucking on the ground. He slid his fingers into it and parted her lips, smearing them with precum as he pushed his dick into her mouth.

Cesar was a solitary man and not one to ask for much, but he loved how powerful Cecile made him feel. She had shared with him how much she craved his touch and had called out in pleasure when she got it. Now here she was kneeling in front of him, a married woman who had opened her mouth for him and told him to take from her body the satisfaction that he desired.

And he did just that. He went slowly, sliding in inch after inch until his pubic hair tickled her nose. He pulled back out until just his tip sat on her tongue. She inhaled sharply through her nose as she licked it. He continued this way, pushing gradually into her mouth then pulling back enough for her to inhale.

When she felt him clench her hair harder, she knew he was close.

"You want it in your mouth?" he asked, already knowing she would. She nodded.

He nearly fell to the ground when he came. He leaned forward with a hand on Cecile's shoulder to stay upright. He felt his thighs clench and was overwhelmed with the sensation of Cecile's warm and welcoming mouth as he spilled into her. Feeling him writhe under the caresses of her tongue, Cecile took the opportunity to regain control. She held Cesar's thighs and bobbed her head quickly as his cum filled her mouth, sending him into another bout of moans and twitches.

When he regained his senses, he looked down and saw her swallow as a strand of his seed, mixed with her sweat, dripped from her chin and onto her chest, sweaty and panting. Cesar bent down and kissed her, tasting himself on her lips and in her mouth. She closed her eyes and felt his tongue mingle with hers. She became aware of how messy she had gotten, her breasts wet with sweat and stray drops of semen, spit, and wine and her back and knees speckled with dirt from the dusty ground on which he'd taken her.

She stood up and began wiping herself off with her already stained stockings while Cesar sat back on the stump to regain composure.

"You are a sight to behold, Cecile."

"Are you proud of your handiwork? You left me a mess." She said as she fixed her hair and brushed bits of debris off her skin. She was not complaining.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, brushing the dirt off his shins. "I can hardly stand."

"Then sit. Finish the wine. I'm afraid I have to run off though. If I stay much longer, it will be dark by the time I get back home." She turned her back to him and started to put your dress back on.

"Wait, there is some on your back still." She acted like she didn't hear him. She kissed his cheek and told him goodbye before walking briskly down the path by which she had come. He wondered if her husband would see the bit of dirt before she bathed, or if he would notice her red knees or the smell of sex and wine or how much happier she seemed. Like those on the trees near the path, he was proud that he had left these marks on her, signs of a shelter from loneliness.