?Wet?days

The sky is blue here today, and is it my imagination, or has the watery, fellow sun taken on a more solid hue? The ground is still covered with snow, of course, but looking in the gutters, it does seem to be thawing. Could it be that spring is announcing her early entrance? Unlikely here, since it always snows on an off until late March. Nevertheless, this weather is too good not to take a walk in it. 

Hmmm….the ground is still solid underfoot and unyielding. In some parts of the world, they can’t even bury their dead in the winter, as the ground freezes as hard as concrete. Oh but I love that crunch as my boots tread upon fresh, virgin snow. I feel comfortable, at peace with the world, well, perhaps not entirely comfortable, because, you see, I am very wet today. It doesn’t always follow that this coincides with extra horniness, but it does today. I feel antsy…..schoolgirl-type antsy. That type of antsy that I felt when all I knew about was touching myself, and even then it felt daring and naughty. 

I’m wearing my heavy long winter coat today and it reaches almost to my ankles. My boots would keep out the cold in the Arctic, underneath the coat, a skirt, panties, and on the top half a long-sleeved top and a thick jumper. I think you’ll agree, not exactly overtly sexual clothing. And yet…..

And yet my clit was throbbing and, judging by what I could feel in my panties when I walked, dehydrations was a distinct possibility. 

I can’t speak for other girls, but for me, that little strip of cotton covering the most intimate part of my body is sexual in and of itself. Even before I became sexually aware, I knew this was all that prevented people from seeing my sex. Ordinary, cotton bikini-style undies. They cup a girl’s sex, making it, and her, feel safe. I used to think, “Nothing can get inside me all the time I have panties on.” Complete rubbish of course, and I was soon to discover the added eroticism of simply moving that crotch to one side. When I finally had sex with my panties still very much on, I learned the sensational feeling of a leg hole rubbing against my clit while I was being fucked. Wow! 

So, in what, in a few months time, will be a summer meadow, I simply took my panties off. There was no-one to see, and no danger of being seen, but, and girls will understand this, when I stood up again, my hole was…available….bare….open for the world, and unprotected. 

Looking into the crotch on my panties, I found it covered in a thick layer of…well….me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a vague memory was fighting to the surface. School? No, but definitely that far back….did it involve panties? Most definitely….blue…yes, that’s right, they were blue…now where??? The harder I fought to retrieve the memory the more it dug itself in, so I carried on walking, this time feeling crisp cold air between my legs, I was noticing animal tracks by the hedge….I think I could easily become a country wildlife nut because not only can I recognise which creature left these tracks, I seem to enter some kind of Watership Down kind of world where I imagine where it had come from, what it was doing…..today it was the prints of a fox. Small and fast-paced. I wondered if it had successfully hunted since the tracks were not that clear, as if it had something in its mouth. A life ends to sustain another’s…and perhaps it’s cubs. 

And then like a bubble bursting, the memory! It was a sleepover, four of us there sharing two beds, and we had been sitting in a circle playing truth or dare. We had all lost items of clothing until we were in panties only, then Beth had said ‘dare’ and we dared her to take her panties off. She did without a second’s thought. Suddenly, they were just…off, and lying right next to me. I glanced at them and the crotch looked like someone had taken a knife, and spread it thickly with a very very pale butter. I hadn’t seen a girl cream up like that before, not even with my weekly panty-raids in the locker room. 

Pheromones…..the scent we put into the air….the scent of readiness to mate….the scent we go to such ridiculous lengths to cover up in the modern world. Panties, panty-liners, ‘feminine’ deodorants, constant washing, changing undies twice, three times a day? Some girls I knew even wore two pairs of panties…and a panty liner. 

Well, not for me! Arrogant it may sound, but I love not only my scent but the scent of all girls. We should be proud of it, for it is the source of our power I think. In nature, a female in season can attract males from miles away, just by her scent alone. Now, that’s power. 

The small flint barn with its thatched roof was dry inside, and, despite being up heated, a lot warmer than I expected it to be. The sun had streamed in through the windows and the heat had been trapped by the tick walls and even thicker thatch. I shed my coat, hanging it on a convenient nail. There was one, solitary hay bale, and clearly a new one since it was tied with nylon binder twine. Maybe the farmer uses this place as a shelter when he’s working over here. This is the field the furthest away from his farmhouse, and, as I said, will be left fallow this year. 

Hay is sharper than you might think, especially on a bare bum. My skirt was up round my waist and I was sitting on the haybale with my legs spread. At first, the prickly hay was uncomfortable, but soon the pain of it began to feel good. I masturbated leisurely, there was no rush, and my mind drifted easily from one erotic situation to another, from one erotic image to another. Sometimes, Miss Brain will make up a totally fictitious scenario for me, and that’s what she did this time. 

A boy and girl from the local high school, neither of whom exist in real life. In here, kissing, and his hand daringly on her breast over her shirt. This is as far as they’ve ever gone, and to them, it’s the boundary of the known sexual universe. Today, though, there’s something different. Her hand has found his throbbing erection and is squeezing it through his pants. Both are breathing deeply as they kiss. 

She takes the lead and frees his cock from its prison. It’s the first time she has held a naked cock and it lights a fire within her that she didn’t know existed. Feeling its warm firmness she is suddenly filled with a desire to have it inside her. She begins to masturbate him. She takes his hand from her breast and shoves it under the hem of her skirt. He gets the idea and is soon rubbing her over her panties. She moans with part pleasure, but also part frustration. He isn’t quite touching her clit. 

How did they find themselves lying down? Perhaps their knees gave way, whatever, they lie with him on top of her, and she spreads her legs. Never once has she let go of his cock, not for a second. With her free hand she has tugged her short skirt up and out of the way and is now rubbing his cock against her crotch. He begins to push. She knows how wet she is, and he is dripping pre-cum. One push and she feels him slip past the crotch of her panties and his dock head is against her entrance. She is breathless and scared, yet every atom in her wants this. He pushes, and a sharp pain lances through her making her gasp which he misinterprets as pleasure. He pushes harder and slips fully inside her. He begins to fuck her and she responds. It doesn’t last long before he cums inside her, and the knowledge that he has, makes her cum. 

And me. It’s a hot, intense orgasm, mixed with feelings from my own past as well as the imaginary scenario playing out in my head. I’m still cumming as I imagine them walking home, picking bits of straw and hey out of one another’s hair and clothing and arriving  home trying to look like nothing has happened. It’s alright for him, but she has to scamper upstairs. She has a disaster between her legs to deal with and she daren't let mum see these panties. You simply can’t put semen-covered undies in the wash and hope nothing will be said. 

I’m still cumming as I imagine her squatting in her bedroom and ‘pushing’ in an attempt to squeeze as much of it out of her as possible. Then, standing she takes her semen-filled undies off and rinses them out. Now they can go in the hamper. 

She flops down on her bed and a slow smile crosses her face. 

This barn and I will get to know each other well this coming spring and summer. Emily will get to know it too….and who knows, maybe Dani as well. 

Certainly The Lovely Chris will be having some fun in here….

…he just doesn’t know it yet.