A Bridge Too Far?

Sometimes you find the perfect spot. Trees protected me from a breeze that still has a little of winter’s bite left to it, but they allowed the sun to shine down on my back as I leaned on the ancient stone parapet of the bridge and looked into the waters below. The river here is deep, but crystal clear. There’s supposed to be a large pike that lives around here, but I haven’t seen him yet. 

I feel…..different today. I can’t quite describe it, but there’s a change. I still feel ragingly horny though. Wow, the sun is strong. I feel it almost burning my t shirt into my back. 

A sudden urge overtake me. I want…..no, I need to be naked…totally naked….head-to-toe naked. Skirt, panties, t shirt, socks, shoes? The work of seconds. Now what little is left of the breeze seems to find equilibrium with the sun. My fingers touch the stonework. This bridge is hundreds of years old, and there’s no mortar in it anywhere. This is dry stone building at its finest, with only the arch stones supporting the structure. 

There are clumps of frogs spawn already, and at the bottom I can make out dragonfly larvae. This summer, some of them will emerge as fully mature dragonflies. They will take wing, mate lay eggs, and die. 24 hours. Not a long time, but at least they don’t have to worry about finding food. Mature dragonflies have no mouthparts. 

My horniness today feels weird….almost like a car engine that can’t decide whether it wants to run or not. One moment, I’m desperate to make myself cum, the next…..meh! 

Even as this realisation secures itself in my brain, I remember the new barmaid at my pub….my original pub. Her piercing green eyes, jet black hair small bumps for boobs, very like mine. I remember looking up from the cellar just as she was standing at the bar. For a wild moment I thought she wasn’t wearing panties, but of course she was. She had straddled her legs revealing a pale green thong. I had flooded my own panties at that sight. 

Now, the image came back, and Miss Brain happily picked it up and built a quick fantasy around it. In it, I’d walked up the steps from the cellar, and closed the trap door. I’d taken her by the hand into the office and sat her on the desk before pushing her backwards and gently spreading her legs. Her thong was visibly stained. I had buried my nose in her musky scent. Pulling it to one side, I had let my tongue explore her before making her cum into my mouth. 

Then I had stood her up, guiding her fingers under my dress and into me. 

In reality, I stood on that bridge and pushed two fingers deep into my vagina. It felt warm in there, slick, my cervix felt low and when my thumb found my clit, the usual jolt I am used to felt more like a protracted surge. I closed my eyes, thinking of Hazel fingering me, and allowing myself to imagine the scent of those stained panties. Female musk, certainly, but some sweat too…and, as usual, that faint, oh, so faint hint of piss. 

The orgasm didn’t lift me off my feet as mine usually do, instead, it rolled through me, heavy and cumbersome. A flash of raw desire for Hazel lanced through me, and a vague plan formed to see if I can get her panties for real, but that orgasm felt leaden….heavy…brutish. 

I think, somewhere in my mind, I knew I would see the blood on my fingers as I withdrew them. I looked at my hand with a certain feeling of inevitability. Somehow, I knew I’d lost the pregnancy, and if I’m being honest about it, I knew yesterday. I’d had an urge to go to the bathroom, and felt….I don’t know….something….something different…..something coming away. 

I hadn’t looked. Not even as I wiped myself. I just flushed and washed my hands obsessively for ten minutes. Oddly, there wasn’t any blood in my panties overnight…..not until right now…here….on this bridge. 

I dressed, and walked back home. Is this how it feels, then? This….numbness? The moment I walked into the kitchen Dani knew. She wrapped me in a hug, and I sobbed as if the world was coming to an end.

Emily is on her way home, and Alison just came in the house. I feel, as I said, numb….that’s the only word that fits.