Sex du Juor: Fuck Me In This Forest - Sex Stories

Sex du Juor: Fuck Me In This Forest

Stian Elberd and I myself—Ragnhild Ascwin—are departing off for a hush-hush and not-communal picnic at some far away seaside and seashore. By hush-hush, I denote that it is going to be the two of us alone and not more than that. Yes. We are going to gobble batches and assortments of delicious and lip-smacking food and more outstandingly and significantly have endless laps and lots of great and so out-of-this-world sex. It is to some extent chilly and icy, but we are going anyway. We have made up our minds and assessments about it and nothing is going to alter that. Regrettably and unluckily, and much to my own dissatisfaction and aggravation, the car that we are in—a bullion-colored Nissan Trimm 196—breaks down and Stian is left with no preference and alternative other than to ring up his repairman and tell him about where we are and what came about to us as well as where it is that we are going. After continual and nonstop minutes of chatting and conversing on his phone with the grease monkey man, he breaks off the call and peeks at me callously and frigidly like. “What did the mechanic say?” I ask him. He frowns at me unfeelingly for being daring and audacious enough to inquire him of that. “He will be here in like two hours from now; can you believe it, Ragnhild?” “That is totally awful and dire news in any case.” “Yes, it is terrible news indisputably.” To hack a time-consuming story to the summary and terse, Stian and I consent that we are going to fuck each other in ...

... this bulky, infinite forest about us. We can’t just wait any more longer to arrive at the beach. I want sex right now and I yearn for it so bad. I would recite the rosary and even say my prayers out loud if it is bearable and allowable just so I can have and enjoy it. I am not shaggy dog storying here. This is the fixed and genuine truth. Arghhhh! I watch in silence as Stian takes off his blue-color jeans and pitch-black underwear and remains in nothing but his steep and irrefutable bareness. Why is it all the time that he likes having on black underwear in distinction and disparity with the other poles-apart shades? Oh my! Those mightily and impressively built and gorgeously hulking and filled and bursting-at-the-seams thighs of his…they enthrall and spellbind me. Damn me for my unquenchable lust and licentiousness and lasciviousness of him! Yes. I have an voracious and unappeasable desire and longing of him and his gigantic dick too. My monster and dearly loved John Thomas—I call him. He is mine to get pleasure from; mine to stroke and feel and amuse myself about with. Phew! This is so truly funny and intriguing. I don’t want it to end; not at all. “Tilt down over the front windshield of the car with your face gazing straight at mine so I can fuck and spank you till you are so exaggeratedly stoked and floating in mid air.” My goodness! That is what I am supposed to do? I hurriedly do it keenly and merrily in any case. I clamber up on the windshield of our car, and once I am ...