My Good Boy Comes for a Forest Walk

part 2...

"Good boy, I'm ready to play again now."

I let the words settle between us, watching your face carefully as I take another slow sip of my drink. Oh, how I've missed this. The anticipation, the uncertainty, the way you look at me as though I'm the only person in the world capable of telling you what to do. I had wondered, on the journey here, whether I would still feel the same way about you, whether all those years apart might have dulled the effect we had on each other. It seems I needn't have worried.

I put my glass down and take a step closer, allowing my eyes to travel slowly over you. You're trying so hard to look composed, to hide just how much being here with me again is affecting you, but I know you far too well for that. The slight tension in your shoulders, the way your eyes follow my every movement, the effort you're making to anticipate what I might say next. Oh yes, my boy, some things really don't change.

"Eyes on me," I say softly.

You look up immediately, and I can't help the small smile that plays at the corners of my mouth.

"Much better."

I circle you slowly, enjoying the familiar feeling of being the one who decides what happens next. I stop behind you for a moment, just long enough to make you wonder what I'm doing, before moving back into your line of sight.

"Tell me something," I say, settling into the chair by the window. "Have you been behaving yourself all these years?"

You hesitate, and I raise an eyebrow.

"Well?"

"Mostly," you reply, with the faintest hint of a smile.

I laugh. I can't help it. Of all the answers you could have given me, that is so very you.

"Mostly?" I repeat. "I see we have some work to do."

You grin, looking suddenly more relaxed, and I realise that this is exactly what I wanted. Not an awkward reunion between two people who happen to share a past, but this. The teasing, the familiarity, the little game we both know how to play. I had forgotten just how easy it could feel.

"Come here," I instruct, holding out my hand.

You move towards me, and I take your hand, drawing you closer until you are standing directly in front of me. I look up at you, pretending to consider something very important.

"You know, I had rather expected you to be a little more nervous."

"I am nervous."

"Are you?" I ask innocently. "You seem pretty damn comfortable for someone who hasn't seen me in all these years."

"Perhaps I've missed you..."

For one brief second, I have absolutely no idea what to say.

Cheeky. And slightly devestating at the same time. I've missed yoy too, I think, more than I'd ever tell you.

I recover quickly, of course. A girl has to maintain standards after all.

"Careful," I murmur, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "I haven't given you permission to turn on the charm yet."

You lower your eyes, and I find myself smiling again.

There it is. That familiar spark. The knowledge that beneath all the years, all the changes, all the distance, we both remember how this works.

I stand, smoothing the silk of my gown, and move towards the little table where I've left my glass. I can feel your eyes on me, and I allow myself a moment to enjoy it before turning back.

"Now then," I say. "I think we need to establish a few things before the weekend gets underway."

You straighten slightly, your attention entirely on me. I love it.

"First, you are not going to spend the entire weekend pretending that we are simply two old acquaintances who happened to book the same retreat."

A smile tugs at your mouth.

"Second, I expect you to pay attention when I'm speaking to you. I remember you being rather good at that, although I suppose we'll have to see whether you still have it in you."

"And third?" you ask.

I narrow my eyes at you.

"Did I say you could interrupt?"

You immediately fall silent.

I laugh softly, shaking my head. Honestly, I'd forgotten how much fun this could be.

"Third," I continue, "you're going to relax. We're here for the weekend, and I have absolutely no intention of wasting it."

I let that hang in the air for a moment, watching as you take in my words.

"And tomorrow morning," I add, "you'll meet me outside the main lodge at eight o'clock."

"Eight?"

I tilt my head.

"Is there a problem?"

"No."

"Excellent. Wear something suitable for a walk in the woods, and don't be late. I dislike waiting."

You nod, and I smile sweetly.

"Good boy..."

The words have barely left my mouth when I see that familiar look return to your face, and I feel a delicious little thrill of satisfaction. Yes, this is going to be a very interesting weekend indeed.

I move towards the door with the intention of seeing you out, but pause before reaching it.

"Oh, and one more thing."

You turn back towards me.

I let my gaze linger on yours, my smile slow and deliberate.

"Don't assume that because I've been away for a few years, I've forgotten all your little habits."

Your expression tells me that you know exactly what I mean.

"Goodnight," I say, opening the door.

You step into the corridor, looking back at me with an expression that makes me want to pull you straight back inside.

Instead, I simply smile and close the door between us.

I lean against it for a moment, listening to your footsteps fade along the corridor, and then let out a quiet little laugh.

Well, I think to myself, reaching for my glass. This weekend might turn out to be considerably more entertaining than I'd planned...

My alarm goes off at 7am the next morning, and for a few seconds I lie there wondering why on earth I've agreed to be outside at 8am on a Saturday. Then I remember, and a smile spreads slowly across my face.

Oh yes. I've got very important plans.

I take my time getting ready, showering long and slow, touching myself just enough to make me quiver and tremble as the steamy water rushes over my skin, my body slick and wet, and then dressing in fitted black leggings, a soft cream jumper and my walking boots. I pull my hair back into a simple high ponytail, apply a little mascara and lip gloss, and look at myself in the mirror. Comfortable, casual, entirely in control. At least, that's the look I'm going for.

I wonder whether you've slept well. Whether you've spent half the night thinking about yesterday evening, just as I have. Whether you're already waiting outside the lodge, checking your watch and wondering whether I've forgotten about our appointment.

The thought makes me smile again. You make me smile, I realise.

At precisely eight, I step outside.

And there you are.

You're standing beside the wooden railing, hands tucked into your jacket pockets, looking out towards the trees. When you hear my footsteps, you turn, and the expression on your face is enough to make the early start worthwhile.

"Morning," you say.

I glance at my watch.

"On time. I'm impressed."

You smile. "I wouldn't want to disappoint you."

"Good answer."

I walk past you towards the woodland path, expecting you to follow. Of course, you do.

For the first few minutes, we walk in comfortable silence. The air is slightly chilly, carrying the scent of the pine needles. Sunlight filters through the trees, and somewhere overhead a bird is making an lot of noise for such an early hour.

It's peaceful. Secluded. Not a soul around for miles. Exactly what I came here for.

And yet, I have to admit, the prospect of spending the morning with you is considerably more appealing than a solitary walk ever could be.

"So," I say eventually, glancing sideways at you. "How are you finding your weekend so far?"

You give me a look.

"Really?"

I laugh. "What? I'm making conversation."

"Of course you are."

I stop walking and turn to face you.

"Is there something you'd like to say?"

You shake your head, but you're smiling now, and I can see that you're beginning to relax. Perhaps a little too much.

I take a small step closer.

"Just remember something. We're having a lovely walk in the woods. We're going to enjoy the scenery, breathe some fresh air, and behave ourselves like perfectly respectable adults."

You nod solemnly.

"Understood."

"Excellent."

I turn and continue along the path, hiding my smile.

I give it approximately thirty seconds before you make a remark about my definition of respectable.

I make a mental note to address that later.

The path eventually opens into a small clearing, with a weathered wooden bench overlooking a stream. I stop and admire the view, then turn to find you standing beside me.

"Come here," I say.

You move closer.

I reach up and straighten the collar of your jacket, brushing a stray piece of fluff from your shoulder. It's a totally innocent gesture, but I let my hand rest there for a moment longer than strictly necessary.

You look down at me.

"What?" I ask innocently.

"Nothing."

"Hmm."

I smooth the collar once more before stepping back.

"Much better."

I can tell you're trying to keep your composure after me being so close.

I like it, it thrills me to know I still have such a strong effect on you.

"Sit down," I instruct, nodding towards the bench.

You sit, and I remain standing in front of you for a moment, looking down at you with a little more seriousness than before.

"Now, I want to know something."

You look up attentively.

"Last night, you were very keen to fall back into our old routine. This morning, I want you to tell me what you actually remember about it."

You consider the question.

"Quite a lot, I think."

"I see. A confident answer. Let's find out whether it's justified."

I sit beside you, leaving just enough space between us to make the point that I haven't invited you to crowd me.

"Tell me three things you remember."

You begin, and I listen, occasionally prompting you when you become vague or try to dodge a question with a clever remark. Some of your answers make me laugh. Others remind me of little moments I'd almost forgotten myself.

It's surprisingly enjoyable, this little game of ours. There is no audience, no need to perform for anyone else. Just the two of us, rediscovering a language that seems to have survived perfectly well without us.

Eventually, I turn towards you.

"And what happens," I ask, "when you get a little too comfortable and forget who's running the show?"

You give me that once familiar look.

"I imagine you'll remind me."

"Oh, I imagine I will."

I reach for your hand, and this time there is no teasing. Instead I lace my fingers through yours and give them a gentle squeeze.

For a moment, we simply sit together, listening to the water moving over the stones.

Then I turn my head and kiss you.

It's brief, almost tentative, and when I draw back I find you looking at me with an expression that makes my heart skip a beat.

"Well," I say, recovering my composure with admirable speed, "that seems to have got your attention."

You laugh quietly.

"Perhaps a little."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Careful."

"Yes, goddess."

I smile, satisfied.

"There we are. I knew you'd remember your manners eventually."

"Good boy. Then you won't mind following a few instructions..."

His expression changed at once. There it was, that familiar flicker of anticipation, the quiet readiness I remembered so well. I let the silence stretch while the trees whispered overhead, enjoying the fact that I didn't have to hurry. The whole morning was ours, and he knew perfectly well I intended to make him wait for whatever came next.

I brushed a stray leaf from his sleeve, then traced a slow line along the seam of his jacket.

"Look at you," I murmured. "All that confidence, and still so easy to distract."

"You're doing it on purpose".

"Of course I am."

He laughed under his breath, but the sound faltered when I leaned in and whispered what I wanted from him next. His answering look told me he understood. I gave him one last, deliberately innocent smile before standing in front of him and waiting for him to do as I had said.

He stood a little slowly for my liking, removing his clothes hesitantly, whilst looking around him, eyes scanning the area, so scared that somebody might catch him. I smiled, enjoying the tension as he removed the last of his clothes and piled them at my feet as I'd instructed.

"Good boy"... "Now show your goddess how good boys touch themselves". He starts, slowly at first, building momentum as he goes, and I have to remind myself that I'm in charge here, that I need to stop him, because watching him bringing himself closer and closer to climax, fully nude, right in front of me, out here in the forest with nobody around us save for the birds high in the sky, is turning me on more than I want to admit right now. His breathing has gone from soft to ragged, and much louder out here in the quiet still of the forest. As his movements begin to jerk, and his eyes involuntarily leave mine for just a second to close in ecstasy, I finally snap myself out of the trance I've been in and command "stop".

His eyes spring open again, staring straight back into mine, and his hand reluctantly stops its actions, hanging loosely at his side, his cock hard and quivering, standing to attention, pre-cum leaking from the tip. I reach down, swipe a manicured finger over it, and push the liquid into your mouth, coating your tongue with the taste of you. It's so much like old times it momentarily takes both our breath away, but I recover quickly, a smile forming on my mouth as my eyes return to your cock, bobbing around, longing to be touched again. "Begin", I murmur, knowing you know exactly what to do. You start stroking again, as I instruct you to go slow, then fast, to stop, to start again. It's excruciating to you, teasing you like this, but it's also what you want. What you need. After so long apart, it's an exquisite kind of pain and pleasure all at once, to be at my mercy, for me to have the power to let you release, or to keep your frustrations pent up inside.

Unfortunately for you, I opt for the latter and, after a few more minutes, I tell you to stop, to get dressed again, and to kneel at my feet, your cock still deliciously hard and leaking, staining the front of your jeans, making me involuntarily lick my lips.

Once you are knelt before me, like the good boy you so desperately want to be for me, I extend a hand and bring you to your feet. "Kiss me" I whisper, a wicked glint in my eye. You falter, but recover quickly, and take my head in your hand as you lean in and bring your lips to mine, your tongue probing almost experimentally, wanting the kiss to be passionate, but waiting for my direction. I repeat myself, "kiss me". And this time there's no holding back, you pull me into your arms, and it's like no time has passed at all, my knees become weak as the kiss intensifies, I'm surprised you haven't cum after I brought you so close to the edge, my own juices are flowing between my legs, and I know it's not going to take much to get me to orgasm now.

I push your hand down my leggings, and hear the intake of breath as you feel how soaking wet I am for you. I instruct you to make your goddess cum, and you willingly do it, fingers expertly finding the place I need to be touched. You remember my body just as well as I remember yours, and I'm reaching the peak and toppling right over into oblivion within seconds, noisy in the peaceful glade, causing the birds to shriek and flap their wings above us, startled by how loud I am. It's all I can do to stop myself from breaking character and begging for you to take me right here, right now on the bench. Instead, I calmly straighten myself up, call you a good boy once again, and, with a satisfied little smile, I walk away.

"Come on then. I've got a busy day ahead."

You falter only for a second, then walk in step with me.

"A busy day?"

"Absolutely. Breakfast, perhaps a treatment at the spa..."

I begin walking again, leaving you to catch up.

"And then," I call over my shoulder.

You look at me expectantly.

"Tonight, after dinner, I expect you to be waiting outside my door when I come back to my room."

You nod.

I turn, walking backwards for a few steps so I can look directly at you.

"On time, of course."

"Of course."

"Good boy."

I turn back towards the path, smiling to myself.

The weekend is only just beginning, and already I have a feeling that my original plan to escape the stresses of everyday life might have been rather more successful than I'd anticipated.

After all, there are some things in life that are worth revisiting.

And some boys who need reminding that their goddess has a very good memory indeed...