Country Pursuits

The Captain opened his bag and spread a thick tweed blanket over the ground. Next came out a bottle of water, another of Rioja, some grapes, an oooozing Saint Marcellin, a sliced Poilane and other little tidbits that had me rumbling with greed and hunger even though it was a bare four hours since I had last eaten. The Captain dropped down to sit on the blanket and patted a space next to him. I sat and accepted a glass of wine and a slice of bread spread thick with cheese. I drank deeply and let out an "ahhhh" of appreciation. Good food, excellent wine, handsome company, a beautiful view and sun warmed skin. What else can a girl ask for?

Of course, food was pretty much the last thing on my mind and it wasn't long before the food and bottles (thank god for screw caps) had been shoved off the blanket and we were entwined and kissing for all we were worth. I felt tiny in his arms, always a good thing, and kissed with a hunger I barely understood. Clothes were quickly discarded in a hurry to feel skin against skin. A gentle breeze teased my nipples into hard little pebbles and I groaned as I felt his hard chest against them. I struggled to pull his jeans down and felt his swelling cock rise against my hand. He sucked my bottom lip and tugged at my own jeans. I lifted my hips and arse to help and, without breaking the kiss, we were naked and he was covering himself with a condom. I grinned with approval: Be Prepared is the motto of any good scout grown up. I pushed him back to the blanket and stood above him. I kept my feet flat on the ground and lowered my bottom until I was squatting tailor fashion in what we call "The Good Houri" position. It takes tremendous leg muscles but is perfect when you want to show off and treat a man to something special.

The Captain looked quizzically at me, obviously never having had a girl pull this move on him. I shushed him and told him he would love it. I shifted until I was directly over his cock and held it still with one hand then lowered myself so that he was sliding into me. He moaned and his torso jerked upwards in unsuspected pleasure. I pushed him back a second time and used his chest to steady myself as I rose up and down in a mock trot and he writhed and gasped under me like a landed merman. His reaction was a real turn on even if it wasn't totally unexpected. I could feel my own orgasm starting to build but tried to push it off and ignore it, focusing totally on him. He wasn't far away though - no one lasts long with a Good Houri - and I rode him harder, squeezing my muscles tighter, and let myself go. His orgasm just beat mine and I collapsed against his chest with him still inside me, my legs knock kneed below me.

My breathing returned to normal before his did so I hopped off and lay down beside him. When he could finally speak he said,

"Jesus. Jesus. Where on earth did you learn that? Jesus..." He repeated himself a number of times until I laughed and shushed him and whispered wicked untruths about my past. He groaned again as my teasing whispering did its job and brought him back to half mast. He pushed me over onto my side, spooned against me, his dick nestled between my buttocks, and pulled the other half of the rug over us. Then he stemmed the flow of words from my mouth with a broad hand which I licked and nipped until he laughed and took it away, making me promise not to turn him on again so quickly lest he died of lust.

I settled down as contented as a child and felt myself drift off to a gentle sleep, lulled by the buzz of bees, his arms around me and the sun warming my winter pale skin.