Falling in love

"You must be Don. I'm Victoria. What an absolutely perfect day for a fuck."

What she just said didn't seem to make sense.

Yes, I am Don and yes she is Victoria. But a girl wearing sensible sandals about to go on a country walk on a first date wouldn't suggest a fuck the moment we meet. I've definitely misheard.

She sits on a bench. A yellow bicycle is propped up against a hedge behind her. That at least does add up. When we were messaging each other after we'd been matched on the dating site, she said she was passionate about the environment and used public transport or cycled. She didn't own a car.

She looks wholesome. Her hair, a gorgeous gold, is tied up in a plait. She probably wore it in this style when she was a child. Her surname, Pure, could not be more fitting.

Her straw hat is a classic, perhaps it's her father's, with a wide brim—perfect for protecting her fair complexion from the summer sun. It's already hot, and it's not yet eleven o'clock. Sensible choice.

A yellow dungaree skirt comes to her knee. The colour matches her sandals. She looks really pretty in it. That rather trite word is exactly right. She is truly very pretty: a pretty country girl about to go on a pretty country walk

On the floor next to her is a big bag, which I hope contains the picnic she promised to bring with her. She'd asked if vegetarian was ok with me. She said she'd use it to lure me into the woods for a luscious, indulgent, sensuous feast. At the time, I thought it was a bit of a joke; she knew from previous conversations that I'm a bit of a foodie.

She held out her hand to take mine, "This way," she says with a smile. "You're just going to love it."

Love what, I wonder? The walk? The scenery? The company?

Or the fuck?

I pick up her bag, and we start to walk along a footpath, which leads through a wheat field. In the distance, I can see a wood.

A middle-aged couple with a dog walks past us in the opposite direction. We exchange polite smiles with them.

"Don't you think it's just the perfect day for a fuck?" Victoria says again, even though we are hardly out of earshot.

We are still holding hands, and she gives mine a squeeze as if to say, yes, you heard me right. I did ask if you thought it was a great day for a fuck.

What do I say? She might be testing me, seeing what type of guy I really am. Should I play the polite, embarrassed bloke and change topics? Or should I be the honourable gentleman and just say 'no', or 'that's an interesting idea' – it is our first date after all.

Fuck that.

Victoria has a seriously hot body. Slim waist, small arse, perfect breasts. And as I look at her face, I see through the wholesome and begin to make out the horny. Perhaps she is rather less school prefect material than school rebel, but the type of rebel who looked too innocent ever to get caught.

The eyelashes, the make-up, the nail polish, the look in her eye, the blue strappy bra under her skirt—all suggest someone who was very much one to enjoy a frolic in the woods.

Yes, I say to myself, this is the perfect day for a fuck with you, Victoria, and I am absolutely up for it.

I've not had a fuck for four months, since I broke up with my last girlfriend, or rather since she broke up with me. Wanking is only so good. I need to feel a woman's flesh. I need to taste her nipples, feel her tongue on my prick and the wetness of her pussy on my lips.

"You are right. It's an absolutely perfect day for a fuck," I reply. My boldness surprises me.

But heck, why can't I be bold? I can start afresh. This is a new start, after all. Forget the past and the old ways of doing things with girlfriends and the old ways of being me. Christ, Victoria is not only pushing my boundaries, but she is showing the way to a new way to be me.

And we were only ten minutes into the date.

She holds her hand out and grasps a white flower growing out of the hedgerow.

"Know what this is?" she asks but doesn't wait for me to answer. "Wild carrot. It aids seduction."

She picks the white, spidery bloom and runs it across my cheek, taps my lips then brushes it against my groin before slapping my arse with it.

"Do you like being naked outdoors?" she asks. I am getting used to her bold questioning.

"Well, I've never…"

"I adore it," she interrupts. "There's nothing like being really, really close to nature. There's literally nothing between you and the world around you. You become part of it. You are just another living being.

"Have you never had a skinny dip? Or been to a nudist beach?" she continues.

"Well, I've not…." My answers are becoming depressingly repetitive.

Again she interrupts, "Oh, it's such fun. I love being bare in the water. You feel so much more immersed. And you've no damp bikini afterwards.

"But I also really like being around other naked people," she continues. "The dynamics are totally different. You have nothing to hide physically or mentally. You cannot be more open or liberated. You talk to them in a very different way."

"Do you ever have a peek at their, you know…" Now I'm the one being liberated and asking bold questions.

"Of course! It's sort of like a show and tell when you were at school. If I'm there with one of my girlfriends, we always go and sit near some others and take our time stripping off. We love showing off our breasts and yonis. And we always point out a nice lingam or arse to each other if we see them."

"Yoni? Lingam?" I ask.

"Oh, silly me, pussy and cock, to use the vernacular," she replies without further explanation as to why she seemed to have drifted into using another language when referring to ladies' and men's bits.

"So I guess you've never had sex outside?" Victoria asks.

I shake my head.

"Not even a wank? Oh, that's so good. I love it. But it's especially great for a guy. You can choose a really fabulous tree or plant, and coat it in your come. leaving your own, personal mark on nature."

I sense that there's a bit of Earth Mother in Victoria. "Wherever did you get that idea?" I ask.

"Tantra," she replies. "Know much about it?

I shake my head yet again. "Thought as much when you'd not heard of a yoni or lingam. I've been practising it for years. I even take classes, you know. I've a feeling you'd like my yoni worshipping masterclass. And I do a really hot hands-on lingam workout workshop. I'll sign you up for a freebie if you like?"

I feel a little overwhelmed by Victoria's sexual knowledge, expertise and interests, but in a deliciously heady, intoxicating way. It's like when you were a kid and you are going to play with someone for the first time and discover they have an insane collection of the toys you've always wanted to play with, but never have.

She takes a deep breath. "So an outdoor fuck would be a big first for you then?"

"What if someone sees us? Like those dog walkers?" I hear the old me asking.

"Oh, but that's half the fun. I love the thrill of it."

We walk on, and Victoria suddenly says, "Kiss me."

I feel a new confidence, and I put my arms around her waist, spin her round, and we kiss. She puts a hand around the back of my head and pulls me into her while also probing my mouth with her tongue. There's an eagerness to her actions.

"This looks perfect, don't you think?" she whispers, nodding towards a pile of logs.

"For our picnic?" I ask.

"For our fuck, silly!"

I'm taken aback by how little cover there is. Victoria scans the scene. "Yes, this will be just fine."

"Take me," she gasps.

I point to one end of the log pile, which seems to be at the right height for us to use, and we make our way there.

We kiss deeply, and Victoria sucks my tongue into her mouth and bites it.

Her hands are on my head, in my hair and unbuttoning my shirt. I am drawn to her neck and start kissing it, but the dip between her breasts beckons.

I start to kiss this heavenly valley and then pull her floral camisole to one side to reveal a beautifully bronzed, soft breast. I hold my mouth against it and suck her into my mouth. I slide my tongue across her areolae and draw light circles around her nipple. I feel Victoria arch her back in response.

Slowly I narrow the arcs my tongue is tracing on Victoria's breast, and I feel tiny bumps grow in the circle around her nipple. Now is the time to latch on to her and I suck her hardened nub.

I flick it with my tongue, enjoying its erectness, before taking it further into my mouth. Feeling adventurous, I place my teeth on either side of her aroused nipple. I have yearned to bite a woman here but never felt confident to make the move, but now—encouraged by Victoria's response to my actions so far—I gently bite her. I feel her back spasm again. I made the right call.

Victoria's arse has been beckoning to me since I first caught sight of it when we met. I have an urge to feel it, so I let my hand slip down her back and up her skirt. Its smooth firmness of it does not disappoint. I need to lick her cheeks, and I place my hands on her waist, ready to turn her around.

Victoria, anticipating the move and my urge, spins round, presenting me with her most delectable arse. I sink to my knees, almost in an act of worship, and run my tongue over her cute curves.

I give her cheeks a light tap, again an act I'd only ever dreamed of making in the past. The thought that this woman might like to be spanked is one too many. I need to fuck Victoria right now.

My cock, which has been stretching my trousers pretty much since Victoria said the word 'fuck', is fit to burst. I unzip my fly, and it springs out and presents itself for action.

Victoria bends into me and helps me guide my cock into her moist cunt. As I slide slowly inside her, I hear a gasp. It is a deep, visceral, earthy noise. It is a sound of utter, uninhibited pleasure.

It is Victoria who starts to thrust first. I match her, and we start to pump away. She gasps again, but now her pitch is deeper, the sound is amplified, and it becomes even more guttural. This is Victoria's sexual soul speaking. Her mouth has dropped, and she almost grunts with each thrust.

She grabs my arse, pulling me with each pump, and then she starts to increase the tempo and also the pressure. She wants me faster, and she wants me deeper.

She twists her head as we fuck, kisses me with intense passion, and her plait slips over her shoulder. When her head turns back to face the wood, I am eager to find out where that plait is resting and find nestling against her breast. I rub it against her nipple.

And then Victoria pulls away. She picks up a picnic rug from her bag, drapes it over the logs and sits on it. Legs wide apart, she lifts up her dress. She looks at her glistening pussy, she is gloriously clean shaven, and I can see all the folds in her lips. She looks up at me, as a dog might do when it looks from a ball to its owner, begging for a play.

Once more, I find myself on my knees, and the focus of my worship is now that gorgeously smooth, moist cunt—or should I say yoni—of hers. I lean in between her thighs and start to kiss her before lapping away at her wetness. The more I lap, the wetter she becomes.

Victoria's breathing quickens, and I feel her hand once more on the back of my head, pulling me into her. Forcing my lips into hers. She is riding my mouth, and I adore it.

She pulls my head up to hers, licks her juices off my mouth and kisses me. Next, she gets me to take her place on the rug, and I surrender, willingly, to her direction. She straddles me and eases herself down my engorged prick. I am now the one letting out a deep moan. This Earth Woman sure knows how to bring the best out of a guy and how to give him the most sensational of fucks.

She rides me, hand on her hip, plait flapping against her back as if she has just mounted a wild pony she has lassoed on the plains.

I lean back and delight in the subtly different ways her pussy grips my cock as she gyrates. With each movement, she makes tiny changes to the angle and the way she clenches me. Her pussy muscles are extremely well toned, and she alternates between a soft and a really firm grip.

But not only is she driving me mad, but she is also clearly giving herself immense pleasure if her deep grunts and moans are anything to go by.

The wind catches the trees, and I am suddenly conscious of being outside and surrounded by nature. A bird chirps, and my eye follows it as it flies past. We are doing the most natural thing in the world. And it feels so right.

My thoughts return to human flesh as Victoria pushes her lips against mine and slips her tongue into my mouth. Her fingers run down my cheek and trace a line down my side.

She eases herself up, turns round so her arse faces my groin, and then hovers over me before inserting my cock into her pussy, to ride me one more time. I sense that her focus is now more on herself than me and her fingers catch my balls as she strums her clit. Her juices flow freely, and that tight, warm, wetness pushes me closer to the edge.

But Victoria beats me to it. Her thrusts become faster and shallower, her gasps higher pitched, and she explodes over my cock. I feel her climax like it's almost mine too. Spasms grip my cock tighter and tighter, and then a brief moment of relaxation, of softness, before the spasms return, only more intense. This is a seriously intense orgasm.

She pauses, motionless for a few seconds before standing up, smiling and kissing me with a mixture of lust and, dare I say it because that's what it feels to me… love.

Signalling that it's my turn to come, she gets herself in position on the logs and positions my cock in front of her lips. So, she wants me to come in her mouth. Perfect. Just perfect.

She wanks me to the edge of my orgasm, stopping at the perfect moment so I can take over at the crucial moment. A few pumps from my hand and I shoot my load into her mouth. Eagerly she takes my cock from my hand and starts to lick me, teasing out every drop of my come, milking me for all I have.

Her tongue traces spunky circles around my tip and that immediate, marvellous post-climax moment seems to last forever. My cock, still hard, feels every flick of her tongue and I love her for it.

She looks up at me, swallows the vast glug of come that she'd been harvesting, smiles and winks at me.

I notice that a stray line of my milk coats her cheek. I look for her bag and in it find some tissues. I take one and, as tenderly as possible, wipe her clean.

She returns to her former self. The pretty, perfect, pure Victoria. Victoria Pure.

I check that her face is clean, scrunch up the spunk-coated tissue and toss it in the bag. Victoria is clearly not the littering type, and as we clear up, I can see her looking around to ensure that we have left nothing behind.

We leave the scene as we found it – litter free and no sign of our presence, apart from a few crushed ferns and some broken stems of grass.

A dog runs past. "Is that the same one we saw earlier?" I ask.

"Looks like it," Victoria replies. "Perhaps they were doing a circular walk."

"Or perhaps they were watching us?" I suggest cheekily.

"Oh, wouldn't that have been fabulous? An audience?"

"Yes, it would," I reply, surprising myself with my immediate, instinctive agreement.

"Well, I hope they would have enjoyed watching you come in my mouth. That was quite a moment. Loved it."

As we continue along the footpath searching for a picnic spot, Victoria grabs a flower, plucks it and looks quizzical at me, tempting me to hazard identification.

I'm keen to impress this astonishing woman with whom I can sense I'm already falling in love. My botanical knowledge is near to zero, but I remember the flower Victoria showed me at the start of the walk and declare: "Wild carrot."

"Close," Victoria replies. "Very close. Looks very similar. But this beauty is yarrow. It's meant to connect the hearts of lovers."

She hands it to me, and I find myself gripping it very tightly.

The End