Cold And Wet

It really is cold too. I’m wearing wellington boots, quilted trousers and a thick, padded jacket over a top and jumper. I look about the least sexy it’s possible to look. But that isn’t how I feel. Even as I trudge round my estate, I feel my panties sliding against my vulva. Emily left two days ago on a lecture tour that will see her away until almost Christmas. 

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, well, it certainly makes the vagina grow wetter, that’s for sure! Dani too has gone back home for two weeks, and Alice, well, Alice is gone too. Permanently, sadly. I think the home dynamic was just too much for her. I offered her a job and accommodation, but she said, “Anna, I just don’t think I could go back to simply being an employee. You are so much more to me. No…it has to be a clean break.” And so, with many tears on both sides it was. When Dani returns, she will take up her old job with us.

A chill wind suddenly whistles through the trees. The sky looks awfully heavy and leaden. If it snows now, it will be the earliest it has ever snowed around here. Some of my pub regulars speak of the ‘great winter’ when the snow was literally dumped on us in early November and stayed around until March. Maybe we are due for another one of those? 

I shiver, and again feel my panties squish around. I am deep in the forest now, and I know there is no one around. Would I care if there was? I mean, honestly? I unbutton my pants and unzip. I shove a hand into my panties and immediately feel the slicknesss both on my labia and the back of my inquiring fingers. Oh dear. 

My clit is like a bullet too….hard, erect, pulsating, ready to go. Miss Brain is flicking through her scrap book too, presenting me with image after image of things I’ve seen in this woodland. 

There was the middle-aged couple fucking in one of the shelters. While glints of wedding rings showed up clearly on the camera, for some reason, I was certain they weren’t married to one another. Then there was the guy who had stepped off the path and unknowingly stood right in front of a GoPro trained on a badger set and wanked himself off, spurting on the grass. Ah, but then there was the girl who dumped her bag on the rough-hewn floor of a shelter and leaning back against the wall, lifted her skirt and pushed her hand inside her panties and jilled herself off. I loved the way she spread her legs and bent her knees a little while rubbing herself, and the way she began to thrust her pelvis forward now and then. Then, she took a look around her and pulled her panties down to her knees. I think she enjoyed the restriction. Either way, I now had a view of her crotch. Smooth and hairless, like many women are these days, and looking delicious. I had watched carefully as she alternated between fingering herself and rubbing her clit. 

The variance with which different girls rub their clits is beautiful. Some flick their bean wildly from side to side, while others might use a more circular motion. This girl had used an up and down motion, almost like wanking a tiny cock. Then she would push two fingers inside herself and they came out glistening with fresh girl cum. 

I don’t know what was in her head, of course. Ah, but then, it might have been nothing. I’m told guys need something sexy to look at or think about. That’s not true of girls though. Yes, we can and do think about sexy things, but it isn’t necessary, we can get off on just the feelings. 

When I watched her cum, I saw that exquisite agony on her face, and she thrust her pelvis forward. A few drips fell onto what I’m sure were already wet panties, and she milked it to the last. I saw and hear her mouth, “Fuck! Ooh fuck!” It was wonderful.

And there, in real time, I realised I was also cumming into my soaked panties. They, and these padded trousers will need a wash!