Getting Caught in the Rain

It's hot and humid today. Maybe too hot and humid. Maybe that's why I've been running on this trail for half an hour and haven't seen a hint of a single soul. Or maybe that's because this is the root-filled, poorly-maintained hilly trail that meanders through the trees and brush instead of the nice one that goes starkly the opposite way along the side of the river.

This trail has its benefits though, besides solitude. There's a cutaway shortly ahead, not much more than a game trail, that leads through something of a thicket and off to a secluded little corner of a feeder creek for that big river. Between the shade and the water running over the rocks, even on a day like today it'll be an ideal place to cool off with a bit of a stretch break.

I pass quickly along the trail, slipping out of the thick branches into the narrow bank to find you.

You're softly curled over a book, under the young willow at the creek bend. Your light dress clearly chosen to meet the day's weather, you glance up from under loose auburn waves as I spill out. The Sun Also Rises is the last detail I note before my eyes land between your parted knees, at the thin strip cotton bared unashamedly at the empty woods a moment before, and now directed at me.

"Hello!" You smile and I try to discern if that's the smile of someone who's just caught me with my eyes in the honey pot, at it were, but your smile gives nothing away, and your knees remain unashamed.

But you did catch my glance, and that second one too as I stepped closer. But between my slightly ragged breath and the sheen of sweat on my lightly toned body, you feel less threatened than intrigued, and elect not to give away your observations.

"Hey, nice spot for some Hemingway." I nod at your book as I cross an arm against my chest, feeling the stretch in my shoulders.

"Oh, I figured I ought to read it eventually," You slip a finger between the pages and wrap your hands and the book comfortably around your knees, pulling back gently, casually, innocently toward your chest.

"It's got some redeemable qualities." I swallow, trying to stare directly at the very evident little shape of your slit curving its way up the centerline of your tight-fitting thin cotton without looking at it at all. I switch arms.

Distracted by you, I don't even notice that you do. "We should all aspire to that much, I suppose." You grin and I chuckle.

"Didn't expect to find anyone here." I nod at the creek.

"Ya," You glance at the trail head and scratch absently at your thigh, your fingers just barely grazing the edge of your panties, the fabric shifting slightly. "It's pretty empty here, usually, especially on a day like today." You head still turned away, as if you imagine I'm not looking at you either, you run a finger under the edge, casually tugging at the cotton like some unconscious itch.

I lean forward, suddenly regretting my rather snug running shorts, trying to disguise myself in stretching my legs and barely prying my eyes away as I bend over double.

You best me once again, deftly spying exactly the response you'd wanted while I somehow imagine my ruse has been entirely successful. "Run here often?"

"I like the hills, a bit of interval training, you know?" Feeling like I've got the situation in my shorts under control, I glance up to find you've joined my stretch, standing in front of me, head craned up to meet my glance.

Dress effortlessly gaping away from your evidently braless chest.

"Sitting all morning, nice to get up and stretch, you know?" You just smile as my much too snug shorts are one again even more snug.

"No, ya, that, makes sense." I can't pull my eyes from your perky pink nipples. You reach your arm down one leg, then the other, your firm breasts swaying gently as you bob.

"Really worried about those hamstrings, huh?"

Oh shit, I haven't moved, and fear I have most certainly been caught. I pull up slowly, reaching for an exculpatory retort.

"Oh, shit!" Your book tumbles and you spin, your backside inadvertantly bumping against me as you bend over double, shuffling through the pages for your lost place.

"Um, no bookmark?" I manage, trying to ignore the soft flesh pressing against my hard cock, taking a polite step back.

"No, I was kinda aiming to read it straight through..." You stand upright, the motion pressing you right back into me, and your cute little butt right back into my very eager cock. "Here we go!" You turn and smile. "Oh, sorry, didn't mean to bump into you there..." You pat my chest and step away, landing softly back under the willow, knees again as wide as your sweet smile.

There's no hiding it now. I am quite evidently simply rock hard, standing here with your soft lips outlined by the play of shadows across the cotton between your thighs. But you manage to pull off that air of innocence that makes me wonder if I imagined it all, if it was really just a series of remarkable coincidences, if you somehow miraculously haven't noticed the stiffness prominently outlined in my running shorts, the very stiffness only moments ago pressing against your own softness.

"Is this your turn around point?" You offer up to me, your finger once again between the pages as your hands grip your knees. You pull casually toward your chest, as though spreading your thighs taut was obviously the most comfortable way to sit.

"Um, no, I've got another mile or two, then I'll be back this way." I swallow and nod, taking the hint and turning toward the trail head.

"I can't wait!" You grin, drawing open your book, and letting your eyes slip into the pages as I step away.

---

"You're back!" You're sitting considerably more chaste this time as I lumber out of the bushes. I fail entirely to hide my disappointment at seeing your legs tucked to the side under you. "That seemed fast?

"Uh, it was a good run." I nod, feeling suddenly conscious of my sweat.

"Looks like it!" You close your book, waggling it at me, "Found a bookmark." You set it down, carefully staging just enough for me to see exactly what manner of bookmark you've found, and pull your knees up, still together. I suddenly very much worry you did notice before, and that I overstepped.

"How's the book?" I offer, crossing an arm against my chest again. I probably don't really need to stretch again, but, a good enough excuse to stay and chat.

"Oh, good, good." You rock your knees side to side and I glimpse entirely too much skin to not also see panties.

I look over at your book. Your bookmark dangles loosely out the top. White. Cotton.

You notice I've noticed. "Hemingway can be a bit like interval training, too, sometimes." You mock seriousness.

"He does have a way of getting heavier in places..." I switch arms, unable to possibly imagine you've done what I think you've done while you, meanwhile, are weighing some options.

"A good time for a bit of a strech, too." You pull up and I get hesitating confirmation, a fleeting view of smooth-shaven skin, the possibility of a bare slit. But it's gone before I can register whether I even really saw anything at all.

You stand, reaching up in a stretch, your dress rising just above the knee, much too long and too opaque to give away anything underneath, or the absence thereof. But there is certainly a distinct lack of the outline of anything on the soft curve of your hips.

"So, are you particularly a Hemingway fan, or just working your way through the canon of western literature?" I finally pull my eyes away from your bottom half enough to notice you've undone a few buttons down the front of your dress, the loose edges folding down and baring an almost unreasonable degree of the shape of your breasts.

"Ummm..." You swing your arms straight back, pressing your chest out. My heart stops as the fabric draws tightly down your breasts, a hint of pink peering out over the edge of the fold. "More the second, I guess?" You frown, I imagine in introspection, but mostly it's because when you tested this stretch earlier, they popped free entirely.

"Any russian literature on your reading list?" I shift to something of an awkward stretch, hoping you'll follow suit, my hands pressing up along my back as far as they'll go. You jump at the idea.

"I was thinking maybe Anna Karenina?" You push your arms up your back, and I watch as both your stiff, pink nipples slide gently further into view. But, to both our disappointment, it's not quite enough to slip your breasts free entirely. Frustrated, you grasp at the back of your dress, tugging at the fabric, and they finally pop loose.

Bouyed by your dress, your breasts are positively incredible. Small enough to grip, large enough to tease, with a sensuous curve I ache to kiss. Your nipples, I presume stiff from the air but you know to be from your own arousal, beg for attention.

"Whoops!" Your face flashes your best imitation of an embarrased smile as you fail entirely to rush to tuck yourself back in. "Sorry, it was a little warm, didn't expect those to pop out..." You can't help but press your nipple between your knuckles as you grasp your breast, and I could swear I catch a flicker of pleasure in your eyes as you do.

"It's definitely a hot one..." I manage, pathetically.

You snicker. "Ya, I mean, look at you!" You run your fingers down my arm, mocking a grimace at the slick skin. "You should take full advantage of the creek!" You half-joke, cocking your feel apart and reaching down a leg. Your open dress top falls away, once again revealing your gorgeous breasts.

I plop down onto the ground into a butterfly stretch to get a better view. You stiffle a snicker at my obviousness, innocuously twisting slightly to angle yourself toward me. "You read anything good lately?" You smile up at me as I stare down your dress.

"You know, I haven't?" I shrug, leaning into my legs, craning my neck, much to your amusement. "It seems like there's never enough time."

"You have to make time." You say, pulling yourself up quickly enough that your breasts jostle. You scan the ground behind you. "I made today happen because I wanted today to happen." You say, lowering yourself down in front of me, your knees too tight for me to see through them once again. You lick your lips, and look earnestly at me. "You know what I mean?"

I catch your eyes and pause, nodding. "Every day is all you've got."

You beam. "Yes. It is, isn't it?" You split your knees into a butterfly, your smooth pussy bared entirely in an instant, parting slightly between your thighs as you lean toward me into the stretch, conscious not to block my view, up your dress or down it.

I lean back, letting my legs prop loose and wide, pondering you as you casually and obviously bare yourself to me. I realize my rock hard cock has quite suddenly become nearly as obvious as you.

You let me catch you looking at it.

"You really think I ought to rinse off a bit?" I nod toward the creek, not wanting to take my eyes off of you.

You pull upright, letting your knees up, your dress following, your pussy unhesitatingly uncovered now. Your lips part, betraying a glisten of wetness between them, my tongue aching to taste that little clit. I can't help but picture grasping the gorgeous curve of your ass, pushing you back against the willow, sliding into you.

"It would certainly help your chances..." You raise an eyebrow and lean forward, rocking onto your knees. You crawl onto my lap, my sudden apprehension subsiding as your lips press into mine and your hands find the bottom of my shirt. You pull it up and off my head, tossing it aside, and grip the sides of my shorts, pulling up.

I follow your lead, untangling myself and standing as you kneel before me. You yank my shorts and briefs down my legs, my stiff cock inches from your face. You sniff it and immediately wrinkle your nose. "See, I have no interest tasting that, but imagine if you made it smell a little better?" You smirk while I lift first one foot, then the other, letting you work off my shoes and shorts, tossing them all with my shirt.

"You don't need to tell me twice!" I grin and you giggle up at me as I bound for the creek. I splash the cool, clear water up at myself, under my arms, on my dick, scrubbing as best I can. It's barely a foot at the deepest, but I manage to rinse the layer of sweat off just fast enough to glance back and see you wave from the trail head.

"Byyyeee!" You giggle, and I look panickedly over at the empty place my clothes were, then back at you. You savor my realization before spinning and darting down the path.

"Fuck." I hesitate.

Staying here is... not helpful.

Catching you is the only option?

"Fuck." I jump out of the water, stumbling on the wet rocks, and speed as best I can in bare feet down the rough trail, ignoring all the sticks and sharp things making me deeply regret falling for your game.

"Ah!" You shriek a giggle as you glance back to see me rapidly gaining on you. You sprint off the beaten path, into the trees, hoping to lose my naked, barefoot self in the rough brush.

"What the fuck!" I shout, some thorny branch scraping at my thigh as you dart around a tree.

"Oh my god, how are you so fast, didn't you just run, like, five miles!?" You waste your breath, and I get close enough to grasp your wrist, yanking you to a stop. "Ah!" You gasp, reaching behind your back with your other hand to try and free yourself.

"I'm not letting you go, what the hell," I easily constrain both your wrists in one hand, pulling you in front me.

"I didn't expect you to catch me this easily..." You say softly through deep breaths.

"I was highly motivated."

"Ya you are..." You press back against me, your wrists still in my grip. Your hands make contact with my still rock-hard cock, your fingers wrapping around the shaft, cupping my balls gently. "And I've been just awful, haven't I?"

I suddenly realize what game we're actually playing as your hand strokes the length of my hard shaft.

I make an attempt. "Ya, you dumb bitch, now I'm gonna fuck you up." I reach my free hand around in front of you, shoving it into your dress, grabbing roughly at your breast, feeling a button tear off in the process. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry, is that too much?"

"No, it's perfect..." You writhe against my grip, your ass rubbing into me, "Fuck me up."

Every day is all you've got, I guess.

I let go of your breast, unhooking your belt, quickly wrapping it tightly around your wrists.

"Tighter..." You whisper, and I pull until I see it strain against your skin, and you whimper a happy sound.

I shove you hard, forward and down, and you stumble onto your knees, barely keeping yourself upright with no arms to catch you. I grasp your hair and step around you, finally seeing the ecstasy on your face as you wince at my grip.

"Open up and take your medicine." I try to say sternly, eliciting a giggle from you. "You fucking laughing at the medicinal value of my cock?" I try not to giggle back at myself as I shake your head by the hair.

"I want it so bad, fuck my face, please..." Your body pulsates at the thought of my cock shoving itself down your throat, and I oblige. I pull your hair toward me, my cock pressing against your lips, forcing your teeth apart with it, cramming it hard into your throat.

"Fuck..." I shudder, knocking your head and my hips against each other as my cock shoves deep and hard into your face, invading your throat. You feel incredible to me around my cock, and my cock feels hot and hard to you as it fills your mouth, making you instantly ache for it to fill your pussy. I pull back and slam my hips into your face again, your head jerking back against my grip as I do.

"This is what you get for..." I pause, trying to imagine what you're being punished for. Showing me your sexy body? Enticing me to strip for you? Luring me into this absolutely incredible sex? "... being such a bitch..." I meagerly manage, to your amusement, as I start to rock your head and my hips faster smoother, into each other, my cock shoving in and out of your throat.

"I wanna see those tits again, bitch." Am I overusing bitch? Should I call you something else? I strongly dislike that word. You wriggle your arms, attempting to convey that your tits are my problem.

Feeling my limit nearing, I reach down with my free hand to slip your dress off your shoulders, pulling it down, your tits spilling out for me once more. I grasp one roughly, my hips slamming into your face as I shudder, and again as I cum deep in your throat, gripping tightly at your breast as I pump inside you, and you likewise shudder in reply as a soft electric feeling burns through you in response.

I pull away and you gasp for air, choking up cum, spit and semen running down your face, spilling onto your bare chest. I worry for a moment I've gone too far, but you grin up at me, licking your lips, swallowing hard against a now-sore throat, clearly quite eager for more.

"Oooh, I'm so sorry, I've been so bad, please don't spank me, I'll never do it again..." You hint obviously.

"You think you can get out of a spanking that easily, you..." Not bitch, not bitch... "... slut?" I try and you shake your head. Slut doesn't work, hardly seems demeaning at all, sluts are both figuratively, and to an arguable extent at this very moment literally, fucking awesome. "Republican?" I offer and you look dour. No, no, that's too far.

"Rebel princess?" You stifle a laugh, then nod, licking your lips.

"You did just choke me using the power of your cock..." You snicker at your own mocking tone, "Now I'll have to call you daddy!" You struggle to awkwardly stand, grinning, your dress around your elbows, your tits bared, your hands roughly bound, "You'll never discover the location of the secret rebel clothing stash, daddy!" You turn to run.

Oh jesus fucking christ, I regret my choices.

"That's what you think, princess!" I easily grab your wrists and you immediately stumble. I pull you upright before grabbing your thigh from behind and pushing your wrists forward, bending you over. "Let's see that incredible fucking ass of yours, princess."

"Incredible?" You murmur as I pull up the back of your dress.

"Oh, fuck yes, I almost feel bad just thinking about hitting it." I blurt, out of character, and you blush.

"Fuck you, asshole! I don't care how hard you spank me, slap my ass as hard as you can, leave marks, you'll never fuck our plans out of me!" You insist, and I oblige.

It is... very loud. You whimper after the first smack. I worry again that I've gone too far, and you keenly pick up on that, as always.

"You think that was rough? I barely felt it, you pussy!" You mock mockery.

"Pussy, eh?" I smack again, hard, your ass cheeks already pink. "You think that's an insult?" I smack again, shoving your back down, curving your back, your pussy bending further into view. "After the pounding I'm about to give yours, you'll know exactly how tough pussies are." I smack at your pussy and you wince.

"Oh fuck..." You shudder, and this time it's the writhe in your hips that confirms I haven't gone too far.

"Shut the fuck up, princess!" I slap your ass hard, again and again, in quick succession until my hand stings and your skin is red. Your ass burns with sensation, the slightest breeze sending shivers up your spine, your voice now cracking into soft moans with each successive blow. I am more tender with my attacks against your pussy, but they quickly build up in you, pushing you over a ledge, sending a shudder I don't even notice through you.

"Let's see how wet this cunt is for me..." I shove two fingers roughly into your pussy, and it immediately responds, tensing around them, your hips rocking.

"Fuck yes, daddy..." You whimper, pumping against my hand.

"Your pussy is awful fucking wet, princess. You sure you don't want my cock inside you?" I pull my hand away, reaching around to shove my wet fingers into your mouth. You suck them hard before I pull back to wipe them on your breast, my cock teasingly close to your aching hole.

"I want you inside me so fucking bad..." You mutter.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you?" I run the tip of my cock along your pussy lips, and your hips twist. You crave it inside you.

"Fuck me, daddy!" You say, loudly.

"Scream 'Cum in me!'" I ask permission.

You consider, then nod, craning your head up, "Cum in my pussy, daddy!" You shout, not that loud, but, then, it may not be an entirely empty forest, and it's a kinda super weird thing to scream.

"Good, princess." I slam my dick hard and fully inside you and you cry out, almost as loud as your shout. I pull back and slam again hard, quickly picking up pace, one hand still gripping your wrists, the other now rough-handling your tender ass cheek.

Your pussy feels even better than your throat to me, and, for you, finally having my cock inside you is the culmination of practically an entire day of build up. You already came twice so far, and your third orgasm is cresting before I've even really begun fucking you.

"Oh god fuck yes!" You shudder as my cock slams deep and hard into you now, your arms straining against my grip, my hand smacking once more at your red ass cheek.

"Fuck, you are so fucking hot, jesus christ..." I mutter, feeling my limit reached as your pussy pulsates around me. "God, I'm going to cum, are you sure it's..."

"Yes!" You shout. "Fuck! Cum! Now! Please!"

I slam hard once more, bursting, my hips jolting as I pour hot cum deep into your throbbing pussy, pushing that third orgasm to a new height as you cry out, every muscle in your body tingling. I thud another thrust, cum spurting into you, and another, savoring the sensation of your tight little pussy gripping onto me as I shudder a soft gasp of air.

Finally spent, I pull out of you, my half-hard cock dripping with your juices and my cum. I help you upright, and pull you into a kiss, your face still slick with cum and saliva, your bare breasts pressing against my chest.

As you pull your tongue from my lips with a gentle bite, you jostle your arms. "So, do you mind?"

"I don't know, I kinda like you like this." I smile, reaching my arms around you to loosen the belt. You slip free and shake your arms out, sore.

"Glad we stretched earlier." You glance down at your dress. "Hmm, only just lost the one button, I can probably fix that..."

I realize something really stupid.

"You didn't even steal my clothes, did you?"

You giggle, striking a mocking regal tone, "Oh, yes, you've fucked it out of me after all, haven't you, daddy?" You waggle your eyebrows at the moniker. "The, uh, rebel clothing stash is totes back by the creek." You turn, snickering, rubbing your wrists, more than a little bit tender in a fair number of places. "Shall we?"