The Picnic Basket (part 2)

They took their baskets outside. From the back door, the view was of  mid-level forest. An overgrown tangle of trees, of mixed deciduous and pine, it was a lush emerald backdrop to the brilliant blue of the sky.

She didn’t know if it was because of her heightened senses, or just the beauty of the day, but everything seemed to have a special luster to it. The colors were so intense, the scents so intoxicating, that she knew this day would be forever imprinted in her memory.

She had laid out the delicate tidbits she’d prepared for His feast, tiny rare roast beef sandwiches, crust free and artfully cut into petite squares and triangles. Delectable thinly sliced veggies, from carrots, to pickled beets, to tiny match stick cucumber strips. And over all, lay that sense of  anticipation to whet their appetites.

They had eaten, and kissed. Eaten, talked. Eaten, while he pinched her nipples through her clothing. Eventually, He’d pushed her back onto the table, and pressed a chocolate covered strawberry into her pussy, and took his time eating it from her.

It was the most sensual meal she had ever partaken of. She was dreamy as she packed up the remnants of their repast, her pussy quivering with the need to be fucked, her mouth dreaming of being used by his cock. His fingers snapped in front of her face, pulling her from her reverie.

His hand reached for her, and he pulled her outside, through the fallen-down door, and out onto the back of the sad little house. The backyard was as overgrown as the front, framed by verdant forest.

He motioned her to set her basket on the stone wall that ran the periphery of the cottage property.  He held on to his basket, and smiled.

She trembled, delighted and wary. His was the smile of a predator upon spotting prey.

“Take off your blouse. Put it into your basket, and then, let us walk a ways into the woods.”

The words reverberated in her head a moment, but her hands were already busy releasing one button after another.  Suddenly she came to the end of them. What to do now. What to do? She looked at him. He stood, watching. Soaking in her nerves. Scenting her. He knew this was making her wet. She removed her blouse. 

Her bra was a lacy confection that, held freely in the hand, looked sweet. Once on, however, the lace became nearly transparent, revealing much more than it hid. Her distended nipples were patently obvious. She placed her blouse into the basket as he’d requested. Then,  taking a deep breath, she turned to him. Somehow it was more revealing turning to face him outdoors than it ever was in her house, or his. More.. intense. More… intimate.  More…exposed.

Yes. More exposed indeed.

The scent of heated pussy came clearly to him. He took her hand, linking fingers with her, and walked into the forest. Some minutes later, they came to a small clearing. Soft grass-covered most of it, though it was dotted with small wildflowers. The trees here were old, and ringed the spot in such a way that light only flooded the area for a short time.

He set down his basket, and instructed her to kneel, and suck his cock. Carefully, worshipfully, she released him from his pants.  Her mouth, hungry for the taste of him, eagerly wrapped his shaft in her lips, while her tongue lapped around his head, hoping to find a taste of his fluids.

When his hands grasped her head, she smiled around his cock. He was going to fuck her face. Gawd how she loved when he did that, controlling the depth, the speed. She was just a tool to him then, to be used as he desired.

He pushed her head off his cock, which gleamed wetly from the ministrations of her agile mouth.

Her mouth was a round O of surprise.

“Wait,” He said.

She knelt. She waited.

Turning from her, he reached down into His picnic basket. She’d forgotten about it, being out here, serving Him. Her world had narrowed to two opposite, yet linked things.

His cock.

Her cunt.

Both hot, both throbbing.

She heard the chink of the cuffs before he pulled them from the basket. Somehow, the idea of being out here, cuffed, made her fall more deeply into her submission. She felt small, and yet, so full.

He passed behind her, drawing her hands into the cuffs. They closed with a decisive zzznnnicck. The shiver that shimmered up her spine had nothing to do with cool air, and everything to do with the fire that lanced into life between her legs.

He pushed her head down to the ground, until her forehead was pressed onto the grassy turf. Her ass was up in the air, hands behind her back. She felt him lifting her skirt, folding it up and over her buttocks, up and over the small of her back. She drew in a sharp breath as his hand cracked against the exposed flesh. Her little thong did nothing but showcase the back road to her pussy, as it disappeared into her cleft. She absorbed the blows with little moans and mewlings. How she loved his hands on her ass!

And then he stopped. She thought she heard him moving through the grass, but daren’t move.

It was only a moment later that she heard him in the basket. Again. And the first sting of what had to be his crop across her rounded bottom.

Oh… Fuck!!

That wicked hurt. That hurt so wickedly. And she was so wantonly turned on by the wickedness of it.

The swats continued. Some soft, almost caresses. Some hard, vicious, brutal, laying an inconsistent track of pleasure, pain, pleasure, pain …pain…pain….

And then he stopped.

And once more he moved to the basket.

She quivered in anticipation.