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The River

  

By (user no longer on site) OP     over a year ago

I love to write erotic stories - Some have complimented me on them.... What I really like is to write them to order for a really appreciative woman. This is one I wrote a while back - if you like it, It would encourage me to know your thoughts.

It's based on a real live experience (very, very loosly) from years back, but very rapidly drifts into total fantasy.

The river

Paul’s kayak, slid down the slow brown river. He was well into the holiday, to kayak the length of the river. It had long ceased to be the lively stream leaping in stony river beds, that it had been near its source, and now it crawled across flat sparsely populated fenlands, Slow and lazy between high reeded banks, on a long sinuous progression to the sea

The sun was glancing slow over the wide water sparkling in the late evening light. The day was receding into one of those gorgeous British evenings, that come so seldom in the late summer but are so glorious when they do. The amber sun on the horizon had lost the heat of the afternoon, and bathed his bare torso in a warm relaxing glow as he almost drifted with the stream. He was proud of his firmly muscled chest, just a sprinkling of dark brown hair. Now it was getting cooler, his skin went to goose flesh for a moment as a breeze gusted over his lightly perspiring body. He coasted on silently barely disturbing the birds now settling into the reeds

After a baking day, the sight of the pub on the river bank was a vision of heaven. He steered over to the bank, and sat down outside to enjoy a well earned pint. “The unicorn” was unpretentious, serving the local boatmen and the small local village. Right on the water’s edge it overlooked the river, chocolate brown with the silt of centuries, he sat contemplating the sinking sun over the water, pint in hand as generations of locals must have done in that very spot. The land lady of the pub came to collect the empties, smiling at him. Her voice carried only the slightest lilt of the local accent, smooth and deep toned – it felt warm like velvet. Laura was dressed in jeans and a check shirt, open at the collar, displaying a fine deep cleft between slightly freckled breasts, full and firm. Her hair deep auburn and green eyes were welcoming and friendly. She was a striking woman tall, and whilst not skinny had a firm, full figure, that had an immediate allure for Paul, despite being maybe forty five some 20 years older. There was something about her that spoke of the allure of the experienced woman over the fragility of the naïve girl.

“You’ll be on holiday then I guess” – looking at his touring boat pulled up on the bank with his lightweight camping kit. “If you’re needing somewhere to put up a tent, pub’s got a patch of land about a mile down – folks can be funny round here about trespassers, but you’d be welcome to use the field – can’t miss it, there’s a short jetty just as you get to it, and that way you’ll have time for another pint” Paul grinned acceptance, he’d pitched his tents every night for a fortnight on the banks, and was just starting to wonder where he might crash for the night. Problem solved, he settled for a last pint to complement his evening meal.

The spot for the tent was just as easy to find as Laura had said. The river bank was only a few feet above the water, with a slope into the water, it was thick with brown clay mud. Paul unloaded his kayak, feet squelching in the warm brown ooze. In ten minutes a practiced routine had set up his tent just as the sun finally went down and a swollen moon, full and silver yellow crept over the horizon and the night settled in. The night was hot, sultry and sleep difficult, he lay inside the small tent on top of his sleeping bag, perspiring slightly in the humid night. Paul awoke, to the low purring of a diesel engine. He looked through the flap of his tent to see the early twilight dawn slanting over the meadow, beaded with dew and strung with a billion gossamer spider threads.

Paul lay in his tent staring out of the entrance when he saw a faint white figure moving ghost-like over the meadow. Lying still, he watched as she walked down to the muddy slope, almost ethereal in the grey pre-dawn light he saw Laura, now dressed in a thin white cotton dress. Thin straps over the shoulders and so short it barely covered the firm ass that he’d so appreciated earlier in those tight jeans – certainly short enough to disclose the tops of her white hold-up stockings with each lithe step. In graceful movements She kicked off her shoes, and slipped the straps from her shoulders, her back to Paul’s tent, apparently oblivious to his presence. Paul was riveted, as she peeled the dress down to her waist, she was wearing a thin white satin bodice under the dress, which folded delicately over her breasts. As she stepped out, she leaned forward giving Paul a vision of her rounded buttocks, the lace of her French knickers stretched smooth over her pale flesh, emphasising the length and shape of her long well shaped legs. Bending well forward, feet crossed at the ankles She rubbed her ass cheeks, pulling the gusset taught over her mound, and between her buttocks. Paul was in no doubt that she was aware, and desirous of his presence.

Colour was rapidly starting to return to the world as he sun continued to rise in a cloudless dawn. She stood at the edge of the muddy slope now contemplating the river for a minute, her body clad in soft white, tinged with the pink of the early dawn. The world was silent except for the calls of the water birds, and the soft lapping water. She took a sharp breath and stepped forward. Her long stockinged leg, foot pointed, she slowly lowered her foot into the thick mud, smiling at the feel of the cool glutinous stuff, seeping through her stockings and between her toes.

Laura stepped forward into semi liquid mud – three inches deep. Paul watched in fascination as she slowly sank, very slowly, to her knees in the stuff, coating her calves, then white thighs. Settling back on her haunches. Laura started to massage the sticky brown into her thighs, soaking the white nylon and staining the pale flesh between the lace band of her stockings and her knickers. Soon she was scooping double handfuls in a broad path up between her legs, pulling aside the gusset of her knickers, she massaged the grey- brown ooze into her slit, then further back between her ass – cheeks. The flimsy lingerie, now a stained wet cord over her womanhood. She continued, smearing the stuff higher now over her abdomen and coating her cupped breasts with the slimy mud. Head thrown back as she knelt in the morning light, revelling in the feel of the cool mud, as it squashed between her full freckled breasts, and smoothing it over her throat. Even at his slight distance Paul could see how the nipples stood hard as the mud soaked satin clung to her round breasts.

Laura’s hands were now moving in circles over her body – massaging in the thick mud over her buttocks, breasts and abdomen. Sliding the thin straps of the bodice from her shoulders, Laura pealed the soaking fabric down over her soft breasts, they stood firm in the sunlight, nipples firm and puckered.

Paul had been sleeping only in his briefs due to the hot weather, left the tent and walked the few steps to the edge of the river. The kneeling woman looked up from the dark mud – red hair flowing over her shoulders, milk white in the dawn, body streaked with the finger wide streaks of smeared mud. She looked wild, hungry, like some Celtic queen of ancient days. A finger to her lips to be silent, then a gesture to tell him to stay just where he was. Laura continued her mud bath, pinching her nipples to harder peaks, scooping up handfuls of the stuff to fill her brief underwear – once fine satin, they were now sopping with the mud, she slipped them free sliding over her rounded buttocks before tossing them to the bank at his feet. She knelt naked now except for her ruined white stockings, rubbing the ooze in great handfuls, over her neatly Brazilian trimmed pussy, and the cleft between her buttocks.

At last she beckoned – Paul stepped into the mud, feeling the delicious stickiness squelch between his toes. Stepping out of his briefs, his manhood stood erect and throbbing. As he reached her, Laura’s hands reached out and stopped him a foot or so away. Scooping up the cool mud, she smeared it up over his taught thighs and tightly muscled abdomen. Her fingers lingered and twisted in the sparse dark curls of his lower abdomen, thickening towards his tight balls and hard angry cock.

Finally the cool slippery hands caressed his tight testicles and proud firm cock. He pulled her to him, as they sank down on the muddy slope, their bodies lubricated as they squirmed against each other. His mouth now full on her lips, their hands now smearing the thick mud over each others yearning bodies, They squirmed like primitive creatures in the semi liquid mud. She faced away from him on all fours, as Paul slopped the thick stuff over her welcoming ass, delineating the line of her sweet pussy and anus with a slippery finger she turned on him, rubbing his muddy cock and balls over her cheeks, before fastening her mouth on his – kneeling they faced each other now in the slime, he holding her fast in his arms. Slippery body, pressed tight against slippery body. Her graceful clever fingers, slipping up and down his shaft, then lower to cup his balls, Paul moaned slightly as her muddy hand explored his perineum, and finally, to probe his ass with her middle finger tip .

From the mud bank to the river was a short step – they swam in the water, washing the mud from their goose-bumped bodies kissing, naked and waist deep in the river before making their way to the short green grass on the bank to dry and warm in each others arms..

The grass on the bank was soft, lawn like, under a solitary age-old hawthorn tree, twisted and gnarled with time. She knelt on the grass, arranging her tousled hair. He knelt behind her, kissing her lightly freckled shoulders, reaching round her to cup her heavy breasts in his hands. Nibbling and sucking at the junction of neck and shoulder, he was aware of her increasing arousal. Her left hand snaked over her shoulder to caress the nape of his neck, she leaned forward against the tree with the other. She purred a low murmur of pleasure, as Paul’s kissing continued to trace the line of her spine, she lay comfortably on her stomach on the grass, hands under her forehead, feet slightly apart as Paul explored and tantalised her back. Working lower, ever lower, gentle nibbling, licks and kisses he explored her body with a slowness that built her arousal with an almost intolerable anticipation. She luxuriated in his touch and the growing warmth of the early day. Paul knelt between Laura’s creamy thighs. After what seemed an age, she felt his hot aroused breathing across her buttocks, and his lips encountered the valley between the two soft globes, his hands cupping her rounded firm cheeks. With an almost reflexive action, she pushed her ass high in the air, the cleft opened like an exotic flower. Paul feasted his eyes on the vision of Laura’s neatly trimmed pussy, and tightly puckered bud of her ass-hole.

For the first time Paul was able to see properly the delicate crenulations of her labia, the dark moist welcoming hole stretched wide for his view and her pink button, now unsheathed and begging for his attention. Parting her buttocks wide with his hands, Paul took a lingering lick, savouring her musky wetness, from clitoris back over her pussy lips, sliding his first two fingers into her willing cunt, still he moved further back gauging her eageness from the tension in her body. As his tongue tip touched her puckered ass, she groaned and pushed back on his face, he continued to tease and tickle her clitoris, cunny and ass. As he felt her arousal build, her gaping pussy dribbled a drop of her honey, to be eagerly licked up by Paul’s nuzzling mouth.

By now Laura was gasping her arousal. Reaching behind her, her fingers entwined in his hair, pulling him closer to her exposed wetness. Paul, teased her cunt lips with the head of his engorged prick, coating it’s thick red head with her glistening moisture, before sheathing it deep inside her. His hips ground hard against her rear, slowly, rhythmically pumping his tool into the furnace of her cunt. Laura was close now, gasping for him to fill her, faster, harder into her, begging for him to go deeper. She felt her willing wet pussy stretch welcoming his thick tool as it opened her up.

Paul was obviously close too. His long strokes now faster hammering into her, his hips sallping into her firm backside. Surely he couldn’t last long before he filled her, but Laura had to come and come now ! – Reaching under herself, her deft slim finger sought out her swollen clitoris. It needed only the lightest touch to start a spasm of ecstasy . It started as a growing warmth at the base of her spine – her breath came in short puffs, through clenched teeth her muscles tensed and twitched as it built and then a shuddering explosion of delight, she gasped and cried out loud as the wave hit her and seemed to go right through her. In the release that followed, sobbing and gasping, she was left feelinglight headed. Her cunt spasming round Paul’s manhood. He couldn’t control himself any longer, hands clasping her soft breasts, he hunched over her, trying to pound ever deeper into the majestic woman. His mouth gaping and shouting his release, Paul unleashed his pent up seed, pulse after pulse of semen filled her aching vagina. His hot fluids blending with the molten fire that consumed her, as his hips slammed time and time into her buttocks, finally burying himself as deep as his thick shaft would go into her inviting depths.

They lay together, he behind her, his thick cock still inside her. His arms wrapped tightly round her, pulling her close, She could feel the slight brush of his chin on her shoulder, inevitably he started to soften inside her, and as he withdrew, a thick dribble of semen seeped from her. She gathered it up on a finger and tasted her lovers seed – slightly salty, thick and slippery on her tongue and lips. Paul kissed her still sticky mouth, and drawing back looked deep into her eyes. They sat naked under the twisted tree, looking out over the river for a while, her slight body leaning against his firm skin. His hand sought hers, and they sat in silence, and at peace in the warmth of the English sun.

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