Missing Picnic Table

For the fifth or sixth time, Ryan stopped on the path and turned to Camille, turning her slightly while not letting go of her hand, spinning her to face him so they could embrace and kiss. He held her a long time, his lips and tongue trying to tell her how much he loved her without using any words. She returned the kisses, and leaned against him, but he could sense there was an imbalance.

As they started down the path again, he decided to ask about it. "Darling, you don't seem to be real into the kisses today. Is something wrong?"

She glanced and smiled at him. "I'm just having trouble getting used to hugging you AND your backpack. I like getting my arms around you."

"We need lunch. Besides, you still get to push those sweet breasts of your against my chest. Isn't that worth the cost of the kiss?"

She giggled and squeezed his hand, but said nothing. They continued down the path, a perfect match that looked so odd. He was five and a half feet tall, thin, and wore his blond hair long, brushed to the right, slightly over his ears and neck. He wore a red t-shirt, bearing the logo of some park he'd visited on vacation with his parents, and jean shorts that came to his knees and did nothing to give his legs any bulk. He had the backpack with their lunch and a drink. He was 22 and had just graduated from college. He had some possible nibbles, but no job yet and was enjoying a little free time before he went 9-5 on a full time basis. He lived in a small house his grandparents had lived in before they moved to sunnier places. For the cost of taxes and utilities, he had his own house.

She was a few inches taller, which kept him from encouraging her to wear the heels she loved. Her red hair fell over her shoulders and hid the tops of her breasts and half her back from view, cascading today over a light blue sleeveless top that held her tightly enough to let her nipples create twin raised dots from wearing no bra. A few inches of flat belly showed before her very short cutoffs began just below her belly button. They didn't normally show the round swells of her ass, but it didn't take much bending to get them out. Since they were in the woods, makeup was minimal, but the green eye shadow, shaped but full eyebrows, and medium dark red lipstick highlighted all the best parts of her face. The lipstick was now a bit worn off from his kisses, but her lips still looked red. She had moved in with Ryan several months ago. They had been dating for two years.

At last the clearing came into view and they headed to an empty picnic table. Ryan slipped off the backpack and set it on the table, then opened it and moved to grab Camille, saying softly, "No more pack, no more problem, right?"

She smiled back through the kiss and ran her hands over his back. They eventually slid over his belt and down, grabbing his ass even as his hands slipped down and up, under the short leg openings of her shorts. She pressed her soft, moderately large breasts against him, smiling more when he moaned softly. She fished his tongue and sucked on it for a minute, then let him go and stepped back, knowing from the sensation below her belly that he was wanting to fall into her.

"Hey, lover boy, it's lunch time. We need to make sure we keep our MMNGNGG." His lips had pressed to hers again and she sighed inwardly. All they ever wanted, she thought, and her hand slipped between them to unsnap and unzip his shorts. She dropped and spent a few minutes on her knees, feeling him harden in her mouth while she fingered herself and then felt him stand her up and push her back against a picnic table bench as he stepped out of his shorts.

He took her against the wooden bench, kissing and sucking her tongue as much as he could until he lost all control and released into her. He had a sense that she had not finished, but when he checked she said she was fine. He pulled up his shorts and they turned their attention to the real lunch. The sandwiches came out of his backpack, along with the grapes, the chips, and the carefully smuggled beers, allowing them to have their lunch.

There had been only four vehicles in the parking area. Ryan knew that usually meant picnic areas like this, though not restricted in any way, were usually empty. So far, so good, he thought as he felt his softened member in his pants.

Camille drifted the other direction, throwing off her clothes and eating naked, saying it was one of her fantasies to eat naked outdoors. To her surprise, he shared one of his own fantasies.

Ryan got up and walked about 15 feet to a place where a heavy chain was exposed, and Ryan's foot clearing the vegetation showed that the chain lead out from a concrete block in the ground. The chain was heavy and about three feet long. He played with the area a bit, apparently thinking, and then he returned to his seat. He kept staring at the chain as they ate their chips and fruit.

Finally, he said, "You know, it's a shame they need chains to hold picnic tables in place. I've seen this before, though, and I have a strange fantasy about it where I get locked to the chain running from the cement block and left alone."

"What's the chain for?" asked Camille, returning from a place in her mind and missing what he had been saying.

He smiled and walked back to the chain. "Oh, the chain. That's where there used to be a picnic table, chained into place to keep people from stealing it, but for whatever reason, the table is gone and now only the chain remains." He walked back to the picnic table and sat down across from her again.

She put her chips down and looked at him with an odd expression. "Wait, you said you have a fantasy about those chains?" She smiled as he blushed a little.

"Yeah, it's kind of weird. One of those fantasies that will always be just a fantasy. You know how I love you tying me up. The fantasy is something like that, but different in a way. I'm naked, and have a collar on. Either something metal or a locking collar. I get locked to a chain like that, so I can't run into the woods and hide. And people find me and they make comments or touch or whatever, but there's a group of people and I'm chained naked and have to just put up with it."

Her leg straightened out and her foot started rubbing his leg. "How long have you had this fantasy?"

He locked eyes full of lust on her. "I think I saw something like this the first time about three years ago. But hell, I'd be terrified to actually do something like that, so don't get your crazy ideas department started."

Camille smiled and slid off the bench, under the table. Crawling over to him she unzipped him and was pleased that he was responding to his thoughts of outdoor bondage and her foot on his leg. "Me? Crazy ideas? Never." And she licked her lips before slipping them over the head of his cock and sliding down the entire length of the shaft slowly, tongue teasing the hardening cock as it moved farther into her mouth.

At first he closed his eyes and let it go, then he tensed. "Camille, stop it. This is out in the open. We got away with it once, but What if somebody comes down the path?"

She let the cock slip out of her mouth and sucked at the glans until he moaned. "Let them come. It's very unlikely they can see under here, so it's all just guesswork. Not like you being chained up naked would be." She sucked him a few more times until she felt a sexual tension again. "Besides, do you really want me to stop, or do you want to have that little thrill that somebody might see us and realize you're getting a blow job?" Her mouth was back on the cock, now beginning that familiar piston movement up and down the shaft.

He moaned. "You're a bitch, you know that? I don't want to get caught, but I really don't want you to stop now."

Her mouth moved slowly up from the base of the cock, tongue swishing back and forth at the glans. She felt his legs tighten. It was time to be evil with him. She pulled her mouth from the cock and scooted back to her seat, leaving his staff pulsing with his heartbeat as it poked out of his open shorts.

Now he really gasped. "What the fuck, darling? Please, please get back under there and finish me. Come on, Camille, I'm begging you."

"You were afraid of getting caught. I decided you're right." Her smile was smug and he should have seen it as a warning.

Instead he said what she knew he would say. "Come on, Camille, I'll do anything. Damn, I'm right at the edge."

"Anything?" She was leading him, he knew it, and still, he said, "Anything."

"Ok, stand up and take off your shorts, then go over to that chain and wrap it around your neck. I don't have a lock, so you need to hold it. Then look at me and tell me my man bitch would like his Mistress to finish sucking him."

He sat there, mouth open, staring at her.

Camille waited a few seconds, then sat down again. "I didn't think you were serious when you said anything."

His face hardened and he stepped back over the bench. "You don't think I'm serious? Ok, then I'll show you." He pulled off his shorts and tossed them aside. "You think I don't mean things when I say them. You're always trying to get me to take things back. All right, not this time." He walked over the the chain, cock flopping with every step, sat down and wrapped the heavy chain around his neck, holding the end to one of the links.

"Please Mistress Camille, your man bitch would like you to finish sucking him. His cock is desperate for release and he is so close. Please, Mistress, finish your man bitch off and he will gladly repay you for your kindness." The delivery wasn't what she had hoped, but she had to suppress a smile. This was fun, and it would be more fun if he did it more often.

She stood up and stepped away from the picnic table, taking her time so he could watch her naked body as she moved toward him. Her red landing strip seeming to point down to her pussy lips. "Very well, man bitch, but first you must satisfy me. Stroke yourself to stay hard, but otherwise I want you to focus on my pleasure and orgasm." She waited, and gave him a little nod.

"Oh, yes Mistress Camille, of course I will satisfy you first. A slave should always take care of his Mistress before his own needs are thought of." It was awkward holding a heavy chain around his neck, but as she came close she bent her knees and he got his mouth onto her pussy. He loved the taste of her pussy and the feel of her soft folds on his tongue. He stroked as necessary to stay near the edge as he licked and sucked at her. The position was a challenge and he felt his saliva running down his chin. As she neared her climax she put her hands on his head and rocked her hips. The movement caused more saliva to flow and he felt his chest getting wet. Keeping herself quieter than usual, she left no doubt that she had her climax, even having a little nectar flow in a thick glob onto Ryan's tongue, some of which ran around the edge of his mouth and added to the wetness of his neck and chest.

As soon as she was finished with her climax, she dropped to her knees, looked him in the eyes, and said, "Good man bitch. You are a deserving slave." Then she was on her belly and his cock was back in her mouth. Because he had kept edging he came in about 30 seconds, and it was intense. He groaned and moaned and shook and shuddered while she kept sucking on him to get everything out. When she finished she showed him, swallowed, showed him again, then grabbed his head and gave him a kiss, slipping her cum-coated tongue into his mouth while he was still breathing hard.

Ryan tried to pull back, but she had her arms wrapped around him and kept him locked to her lips for a long time while she ran her tongue around the inside of his mouth. Finally letting go, she sat on the grass, grinning, and said, "See? Nobody came and saw us."

He wasn't quite spitting, but he had an unhappy look to his face. "What the hell was that licking thing? Gahh, I can taste my own cum."

"Exactly. Hey, if you can put it into my mouth, I don't see why I can't put it into my man bitch's mouth. Trust me, the taste fades pretty quickly." She started standing up and held his cheeks in her palms, keeping his eyes on her. "And I did swallow first." Her laugh was a happy one, but he wasn't sure he liked the inference.

They got their missing clothes back on, cleaned up the picnic lunch, and went home. Both had memories of the day that they turned over in their heads. Each wondered what the other was thinking of their memories, but Camille was thinking of possibilities for the future.

Ryan had found that at least part of his fantasy was more intriguing than he had previously thought. A week after the incident with the chain, he bought a 5-piece black collar and cuff set, with locking buckles. It took a few more weeks, but he convinced Camille to lock him up. She found that she enjoyed cuffing him and restraining him to objects for her use and torment. They both felt the wave rolling. He felt his wave rolling back, more and more into a submissive place. Hers rolled forward into a more dominant place. And still, their imaginations kept working.

In September, Camille told him she had to travel to a conference for work for a couple of days. On the appointed day, she packed her suitcase and left, promising to call him every evening. The first two nights she called, but the third night he waited and the call never came. He asked her about it when she got home and she said she had fallen asleep after dinner, exhausted from the day.

A week and a half later, she told him she was going out shopping all day with some girls she had met through the conference. In October there was another business trip, then another shopping day. He missed her, let her know it, and when she got home she always made it up to him with high energy sex like she hadn't shown since they first met. He told her that if that was his reward for being left alone, she could go to conferences or go shopping any time she wanted to.

Four and a half months after the picnic playtime, they returned to the spot. The trees were changing colors and many leaves had fallen. They had another picnic lunch, this time with Ryan wearing his cuffs, locked at the buckles. Instead of crawling under the table, Camille eased him down onto a bench and locked his wrist cuffs under the seat. He felt fear as the reality sank in that he was locked by his cuffs to the seat of a picnic table and he could not get up without Camille helping him.

For her part, she had rehearsed this and put her plan into action. It would take them, but especially him, to a different level. Her jeans came off and she squatted over his face. Happily, he began licking and sucking at the soft, tasty folds of skin. He could feel his jeans open and his cock pulled out, slowly being stroked before warm moistness surrounded it and her mouth began sliding up and down the hard shaft. She had suggested he go two weeks without any release, so there would be plenty of cream. Camille also knew he wouldn't last as long, but she did want her orgasm first.

The cool wind blew across bare skin, but his focus was on her pussy, bringing her to a slightly writhing moaning state quickly, aided by the tension in her legs trying to support her while bent. The moans grew louder and, as if by magic, she tensed and shuddered with soft cries as a gust of wind blew leaves around them. She let the sensations sink into her, the relaxation spreading, then climbed off, smiled at him, and moved to between his legs.

Ryan felt her mouth once again on his cock, his arms locked behind him with nobody on top suddenly made him feel intensely vulnerable again. There was something about the smile, and a reminder of smiles she had given since they had discussed this trip. But his body was responding to her, soon tensing, then he was trying not to cry out or grunt too loudly. She suddenly squeezed his cock, just above his balls, and slowed, dragging out the intensity to a shuddering, mind-coloring level before he grunted and cried out at the same time, feeling his cock pumping, knowing her was filling her mouth.

He shuddered again, gasped, and shuddered more as he felt her lift from his cock. His eyes opened to see her smiling down on him from just a foot away, and suddenly he knew her plan. His mouth began for form the word "NO" just before her mouth opened. The creamy stream, extra large from two weeks of denied release, slipped from her mouth and splattered on his lower lip before she adjusted and it flowed between his parted lips. The taste was immediate, and it was THERE. He could spit it out or just close his mouth, but there was already a fairly noticable amount and if he turned his head before she was done it would just splatter on his face. She had him and he decided to comply rather than make a bigger mess. When she finally bent to lick his lips, he knew he could swallow it.

"Uhng. That was nasty. Let me up so I can get something to wash out my mouth." He was turning his head now, trying to escape her lips that followed his mouth.

"Naughty man bitch, you didn't call me Mistress. That means you stay locked there for 10 more minutes." She got up and looked at him, wide eyed, looking back at her.

Reality came with a thud. He was cuffed to the bench. She had the key. He was, by his own choice, at her mercy. The fact that she had gone beyond his desires could not be undone. She had planned to restrain him and fill his mouth with his own cum, whether or not he agreed. Ryan admitted to himself he would not have taken the cream any other way, and he wasn't happy she had forced him, but it had happened.

"Naughty man bitch is sorry for his reaction, Mistress. He did not know he would be cum swapping. It was not something he was looking forward to." Hopefully that was gentle enough not to get more time. He was already very aware of his cock flopped to his left side and the cool wind blowing over it and his exposed belly.

"Mistress doesn't always give her man bitch what he wants. Sometimes she gives what she wants him to have." That smile again. "You may not have liked it, but you can't say it was as bad as pouring in mud, or castor oil, or grass, or many other things."

Ok, he thought, she had a point there. He looked at the leaves blowing in the wind and thought what they would have tasted like. As he turned it over in his head he knew one thing, if he let her tie him again, she was going to fill his mouth with his cum again. Their relationship had changed, and he was trying to figure out if it had changed enough to warrant ending it.

He still loved her, and wanted to be with her, but she scared him just a little. He felt in no physical danger, but she had made suggestions about pegging, gags, even a male cage and he didn't know how serious she was or how far she would push without his permission. They went three weeks before he resumed having sex with her, and another month beyond before he let her put the cuffs on him again.

There were two conferences in December. Each taking her away for three nights. He looked forward to her return home as he always did and she did not disappoint him. It seemed unusual that her phone calls were getting shorter, though. He decided she was probably just tired from so many conferences.

Sex was always good. She knew how to tease him, torment him, draw out his orgasms, keep him on edge, even how to get him back up quickly for a second round. Camille seemed to be getting better at these things and Ryan wondered how she was learning, but it was so good. Somehow, though, she always managed to push the envelope and his limits.

There was the day in early January when he let her tie him to a dining room chair, arms behind the back of the chair, ankles pulled to the back legs to keep his knees on the outer sides. She teased his nipples, sucked on just the head of his cock to leave him begging her to go lower, she even lubed up a dildo and managed to push it under him so the length of it rested between the chair and his ass cheeks. He didn't enjoy something so phallic under his ass, but he had to admit the sensation of pressure along the inches of contact was surprisingly nice. Before she finally mounted him, she grabbed the end of the dildo and slid it back and forth for about a minute, laughing when his eyes gave away that the feel of the round object against his anus was stimulating him.