A Walk On The Wild Side - Sex Stories

A Walk On The Wild Side

... reply. Here I was, a sixty-seven-year-old bloke sitting next to a twenty-five-year-old single woman, nobody else around for miles, and she had just asked me to lift my skirt and show her what was underneath. That, and her hand on my leg. She looked down at my skirt and giggled again. She somehow drew my attention to her own legs which were covered by tight spangly-coloured leggings, socks, and walking boots in muddy pink as opposed to my muddy brown ones. My attention rose up her body, taking in her thin plastic jacket open at the front and showing her white tee-shirt top underneath it, and a glimpse of a very curvy cleavage under that.

She screwed the top back on her water bottle, put it back in her backpack and made as if to stand up and walk on along the level towards the next rise. I didn't do the same, so she didn't get as far as standing up, though I did see a tiny shake of her chest which I could have imagined, her boobs swinging a fraction to the left and right, in the space of half a second, clearly restrained by a bra. She could have sent out this movement as a test for me to respond to. Or not.

I set a test of my own by replacing my water bottle in my backpack, then pulling straight the hem of my skirt as I stood up. I smiled at her then turned and walked on up the path towards the base of the rocky summit to the tor we were climbing up. She followed close behind me for a couple of minutes until we were about to pass some large rocks, twice as tall as me ...

... and four times as wide, which were slightly off the well-worn path we were following. I looked around and saw no one else was anywhere near me apart from her, so I turned off the path and went behind these rocks, and found myself in a big grassy area surrounded by these rocks. Rachel followed me.

I chose another low wide stone to sit on where we were secluded from anybody's view whether near or far, then sat on it leaving a space next to me for her to sit at too. She joined me once more, this time she had taken her anorak off and stuffed it through one of the straps on her backpack.

She nestled up to my side and we both looked into each other's gaze, me trying to determine what exactly was going on here and her doubtless hoping I would catch on quickly.

“Do you want me to show you?” I asked.

She giggled girlishly and put her hand back on my leg. I pulled the hem of my skirt up a bit, widened my legs and showed her my black granny-style knickers which covered my junk.

“Oooh, knickers as well as a skirt,” she cooed, putting her own hand on the hem of my skirt and lifting it up for a better look. I wriggled myself into a wider leg position. Rachel ducked her head down and had a good peek right up my skirt as far as it went.

“Yes, male underpants are so last century,” I said.

She let her fingertips 'accidentally' touch my thighs, and when I didn't say anything or react, she let them slide down to the insides of my legs. I felt them lightly skim over my skin. I ...