tagExhibitionist & VoyeurNaked Passion... Never-Ending

Naked Passion... Never-Ending


She left the office late afternoon, stopped by her city apartment. Her Labrador, a rare fox-red male, loyally met her at the door and followed her as she gathered toiletries and clothes, tossing everything into a hand-painted canvas tote. Attaching his leash, she led him out and into the car. Tossing in the bag, she slid into the driver's seat, turned on the CD player, and headed toward the country – the escape she craved.

Her grandparents had built the house in the early 20th century, and tilled the soil until their tired souls were finally at rest. The only descendant, she had visited there every weekend of her life... and now she owned it. The drive was calming, and she began to drift deeper into another dimension as each mile took her farther from the harsh reality of city stress. She looked forward to the solitude, and an opportunity to commune with nature. Unleash her inner self, naked and free.

Her dark mahogany hair was blowing in the wind as she drove, casting copper highlights in the red sky of early evening. By the time she made it to the gravel driveway, the sky had turned purple, and before she could reach the front door, the sun completely disappeared behind the mountains.

Her dog ran around the yard, routinely inspecting his perimeter. He stopped momentarily, looking into the woods suspiciously. Calling his name, she stepped up to the porch, opened the screen door and unlocked the deadbolt. The dog barked into the woods, and she looked around nervously. Seeing nothing unusual, she decided she was just being paranoid and patted his head. Her canine companion became disinterested in whatever he was barking at, and led her into the house, padding into the den where his bed waited.

She listened to the quiet – honing in on the waterfall spilling down the mountain just a few hundred yards from her back door – it was this melody that drew her grandfather here so long ago... and the peaceful rhythm still lulled her to sleep at night. It was a clear spring, and she decided climb up the trail for a moonlight swim. Here, she was released from all inhibitions.

Admiring her from the forested hill just the other side of the road, he had a perfect view of the house. If he made any noise, it was camouflaged by rushing spring water, and he was sure his presence was undetected. He watched as she drove up and unpacked her car ... she wore a dark fitted blouse, a scoop neck that revealed cleavage even from this distance. Black denim jeans and soft black leather moccasins. Her hair fell in her face as she gathered her bag, and finally disappeared into the house.

He had memorized her routine, observed every detail. So far, nothing was amiss... next, she would come out to the back porch to fill the bird feeder...

He saw her remove the black acrylic "bird house" roof, standing on tiptoe to pour seed into the glass feeder. After, she lifted her face to peer at the full moon, thinking it seemed more luminous than usual. He was drawn to her full breasts shimmering in the soft moonlight, and wished he could see more than just the tantalizing cleavage visible just above the blouse.

As if she had just remembered something, she put away the bird food hurriedly and walked toward the waterfall. He thought this break in routine to be quite curious – she hadn't done this before. Completely drawn to the seductive creature, he left his post and crossed the road with stealth...trailing her like a cat. Finally, she came to a swirling pool where the cool water spilled down the mountainside.

She lifted the silk blouse over her head, and the sight of her beautiful bare breasts in the yellow moonlight made his pulse quicken. Pulling off the moccasins, slipping out of the jeans... he was mesmerized by this unusual, but delightfully sensuous undressing. Obviously, she had decided on a moonlight dip in the cool refreshing water. His thoughts came fast and furious as he too stripped in silence... keeping his eyes on the curvaceous figure that seemed to step from a fantasy into his reality.

He watched as she stepped into the stream, her hair poured over bare, rounded shoulders. He crept closer, daring to stand just outside the trees, waiting.

She was glad the stream wasn't very deep, and walked to the center before sitting down in the moving water. Leaning back, she arched like a mermaid, arms outstretched as she floated on the water, closing her blue eyes.

Water left her tan flesh sleek and radiant in the moonlight - she was smooth all over, flawless and natural. He appraised her glistening beauty in silence, not wanting to alert her of his presence... yet. She drifted in the water randomly, flowing along with the current – toward the shore where he stood... waiting.

Her breasts floated just under the water, asymmetrical globes tipped by large pinkish nipples peeking above the surface. She was ripe in shape and form, a delicious vision from where he stood. Her beauty was enhanced by her girl-like disposition, flirtatious and sexy, nurturing and sweet – anxious to please, and dancing for pleasure. He watched as she pulled hair into a long ponytail as she stood up, leaning to one side, wringing excess water from the shimmering strands, starting to braid it even before stepping out of the water. Observing her delicate splendor had an obvious effect, and he adjusted position to relieve the throbbing of his erection, regaining his composure to carry out his own long-planned agenda for this special evening.

He knew about her secrets and had actually met her once in the city. Something about her obsessed him – her voice, the way she walked, her defiant independence – perhaps it was simply the blend of qualities that made her irresistible. He had learned, however, that she had a persona hidden away – part of her that she kept secret from outsiders – and he had discovered that she exposed it here in this place she escaped to.

She was a seductress, a captivating witch. He wanted to possess her, to take her tonight under the mystery of the full moon. He watched as she simply picked up her clothing and leisurely strolled nude toward the flower garden, where a life-size sculpture of granite lovers was surrounded by various blooming species.

She savored the smell of moist soil and fresh mowed grass, mixed with sweet flora, and inhaled deeply. Listening to the rushing waterfall, she was comforted by the night blanket, dotted with brilliant stars. She dropped her clothes in a pile, and sat down in the handcrafted swing that hung from the tall weeping willow. Gazing up at the moon dreamily, she began to sway, using toes to push back and forth. She was a part of this place, it's very soil, and all that went before, was deeply rooted within her soul.

Her long legs glistened still from the water, and her breasts were lit by the pale moonlight. Feeling the leather swing against her naked ass, the coarse rope wrapped in her palms – the experience was more than a little arousing. She smiled, thinking about having passionate sex right now, here.

She was lost in her contemplations. The aroma of lust hung in the air heavily, the perfume of flowers enticing butterflies, bees, and hummingbird – any and all who dared to sample the nectar, and spread the seed. She was intoxicated by the spicy sweetness filling the air, and envisioned herself as one of the open blooms – inviting the mystical forces of nature to feed her hungry womb with life... and then, suddenly, he appeared.

She looked up, startled, stopping the swing abruptly. He stood poised in front of her - tall and prominent, body tan and muscular, his turgid erection belying the stirring in his loins while his eyes spoke, piercing her with their steel blue strength. He didn't have to say anything aloud – his silent dominance clearly announced his intention: to claim his rightful possession. As he stepped towards her, she tightly gripped the burlap rope of the swing.

She knew him – he wasn't a stranger. In fact, they had met a few times in the city. But he had never been here – she hadn't brought any man here. She felt an adrenaline rush as the blood in her veins rose to the surface, displaying a hot flush. Her nipples were erect – she felt suddenly out of control, flooded with lust – the sense of reality moved farther from reach, and her heart pounded with unexpected excitement.

He smiled, aware that she was transforming right before his eyes. He crossed his arms, standing next to the willow tree, slightly amused at how quickly she began the descent to his realm. Her sensuality was natural, sincere and innocent – he thought her an exquisite creature. She looked up at him with a sweet smile before she slipped off the swing, breasts bounced gently as she skipped away playfully, taunting him. Like a lion on the hunt, he stalked the tempting prey, his cock hard, heavy balls swinging... ready to capture and fill the lioness.

She pranced through the rose bushes and around leafy evergreens – stepping around the twists and turns in a garden ballet – down the row of purple iris and red tulips. Stopping behind a profuse honeysuckle vine, she glanced back. She was at once anxious and anticipating... watching him warily but wanting to surrender, unable to bridle her passion much longer.

Suddenly, she felt his arms wrap around her from the back, his hands first grasping her breasts before brushing down her belly and around her waist, exploring freely. She exhaled, caught up in the touch. He used fingers to release her silky auburn hair from the braid and then wrapped the length in one hand, pulling her head back so he could nip at her soft lips. She heard his whispers, and trembled. She seemed small and vulnerable – his strong embrace felt safe. He spoke calmly, confident and protective.

A gust of wind rustled the trees, and the falling water seemed louder than usual. Every sense heightened, she was acutely aware of every sound, and imprisoned by his warm body. He whispered as he caressed every curve and fold, cherishing his treasure – sculpting his masterpiece, admiring his reward.

"My divine creature," he said, uncompromising, discriminating, pleased.

She turned gracefully inside the circle of his arms, succumbing to both her own desire, and his. The full moon directly overhead shone on the two silhouettes blending and molding, their flesh reflecting in silver light. She looked into his eyes, and without a word, dropped to her knees before him.

His fingers combed through her hair, looking down as she wrapped fingers around the breadth of his manhood. She closed her eyes and took him into the warmth of her mouth, enjoying the velvety texture of the bulbous head, raking teeth back and forth gently. He held his breath momentarily – the first moment was excruciating pleasure. The way she swirled tongue in circles, swallowing and stroking, mouth and fingers dancing a sweet oral waltz.

Looking down, he was fascinated and filled with insatiable lust. She opened her eyes, and he said three words.

"Come to me."

She stood, and he led her to the nearby swing. She watched his muscles tighten as he sat into the swing, pulling her closer. She smiled, biting his shoulder, feeling her clit throb with anticipation. Straddling his strong thighs, she guided his powerful shaft into her. Her slippery vulva swallowed him, and she gasped when he pushed through the tight opening. Her wetness consumed him, sliding down slowly until she felt as if his cock had kissed her navel from inside... marking his initials at the center of her.

He held her tight with one hand, massaged her flesh at will with the other. He began to swing back and forth, in rhythm to the music of her hips. She melted into him, and he absorbed her... highlights and shadows, bathed in moonlight, serenading the night.

She felt him so deep inside, it was impossible to know where he stopped and she began. In the vastness of the universe, they merged as one unity, rewarded thusly. She arched back – she'd have fallen if not for his secure hold – and thrust against him, desperate for release. She bit her lip in aching ecstasy, and cried out his name – the intense contractions of her orgasm stirred his cock to a forceful eruption. He held her tight to him, never to let her go again.

Conquer. Surrender. Power. Possession. The passion... forever, never-ending.

Copyright 2003 Scheherazade, the sexystoryteller.

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