It’s Great Outdoors

On our short honeymoon trip my wife and I enjoyed each other tremendously.  Our unions occurred through out our journey.

Perhaps the most loving and adventurous occasion, the memory of which still sparks heated “encounters”, took place high in the mountains.  We had driven up to view the turning aspen leaves.  As we drove higher into the mountains, the air became cleaner and clearer.  Birds called each other.  Deer slipped into the forest to hide from us.

We held hands as I drove, and our surroundings heightened the physical contact.  As we went higher, went further from people.  Perhaps it was the thinner air, the wildlife, or the remoteness, but soon I could no longer simply hold my wife’s hand.  I had to inhale the scent of her skin, to taste her lips and hold her in my arms.  We stopped, exited the car, stood by the side of the road, wrapped ourselves in each other’s arms, and began to kiss.  First, softly.  Then, much stronger.  Our tongues met, and that was it for me!

I turned, grabbed my wife’s hand, and started into the woods, further from the road.  From my flared nostrils my wife knew where I was headed.  She shyly slowed, at first reluctant.

We proceeded in stages.  Kissing and inflaming each other, then a few whispers from me.  “No one is near.”  “If anyone comes by, they can’t see us.”  She would reply, “Are you sure?”  So I’d move to another spot.  The kissing and whispered encouragement would begin again.

Eventually, a satisfactory location was found.  We disrobed each other and enjoyed more kissing, more caresses, and … more nibbles and licks.  Soon, all inhibitions were gone.  She lay down on a flat rock, using our clothes as some padding.  I did the same, next to her, and our now (in my opinion) lengthy foreplay continued.  Not for long.

While our mouths again locked and we again engaged in tongue sword play, I touched her between the legs.  From my bride’s wetness, I realized the delays had been something of a contest to test my powers of persuasion.  Apparently, I’d used the proper language, and other tools.

After feeling her moisture, I could wait no longer.  I was intoxicated by her skin, her lips, her arms, her legs, and the scent of her sex.  I positioned myself between her legs, aimed myself at her vagina, and thrust in completely.  Wild subconscious adrenalin fueled urges took control of me.  I erupted shortly, without allowing my wife to achieve her release.  The surroundings and the possibility of being caught had gotten the best of me, at least for the first go round.  I suggested we continue our wild union.  At first, her warm smile indicated my wife’s acceptance.

But, unfortunately, from a long way off, we heard a vehicle approaching.  I wanted to wait to see if it reached us, but my bride persuaded me otherwise.  We quickly scrambled into our clothes and rushed to our car.  We enjoy that memory.

We returned to that same town approximately 10 years later on our anniversary.  I had planned to return to the same site for more wild sex.  However, the weather up high had already turned cold, and I was unable to persuade my bride and then mother of two to forsake the warmth of out motel room, to repeat the adventure.

But, in our room, things ‘got plenty hot’.  Thankfully, they still do.