Saturday, May 28, 2016

Fucked on a Picnic Table by the Lake

This is not one of my old posts, but one by Pervertically Virtuous
In the process of recovering my own old posts via email I discovered some of hers. Like me, her old accounts have been terminated, and she seems to have disappeared from the internet. This is a damn shame since I consider her one of the best sex bloggers I've ever had the chance to read and follow. I'm reposting her old posts as a historical archive, and if she ever returns to blogging I'm happy to hand them back to her.
To be clear: the copyright on this work is hers, and remains with her - I didn't write it and I make no claim to it. 

(FYI: all links in this post are working)

Pervertically Virtuous posted: "Rideshare was intent on spending a day with me. Now that summer finally arrived to the Northeast (for a couple of days, anyway), he wanted to take me to some wineries and then to the farm on which he lived and worked. Apparently, there were a number of ar"

recovered post by Pervertically Virtuous

Fucked on a Picnic Table by the Lake

by Pervertically Virtuous
Rideshare was intent on spending a day with me. Now that summer finally arrived to the Northeast (for a couple of days, anyway), he wanted to take me to some wineries and then to the farm on which he lived and worked. Apparently, there were a number of art studios and workshops on the farm, and several different artists and craftsmen working and/or living there. He suggested I could model for him for an empty canvas he had, or that I could model for photographs for one of the sexy housemates who made leather items. (My first thought was – if you have a sexy housemate, could we have a threesome? But he dismissed that idea because the housemate had a girlfriend. Oh well, it was worth the try.)
(photo added in 2016 - original lost in recovery, sorry
Spoiler: PV did not have a 4way, just a picnic)
I have rarely ventured out of Unitown during my 6 years here, and although I should be working non-stop finishing my thesis, I decided to take half a day off and just do it, spend the day exploring the countryside around Unitown, meeting local craftsman, seeing a world I rarely get to see otherwise. Rideshare is not someone I would ever consider for a long-term relationship, but I was sure we could get along quite well for a day.
He picked me up around 2 PM. It was a lovely summery day and I wore just a simple dress. Once in the car, he put his hand on my thigh and I let out a small yelp. I was right around ovulation and thus particularly easily aroused. I quickly decided I did not need my underwear, so I slid it off and relegated them to a corner in my purse for the rest of the day. He teased me a little bit with his hand, and I was wet before we had even left Unitown.
After 2 wineries, about half a glass of wine at each – he drank considerably faster than I do (but then again everyone drinks faster than me) and would finish my unfinished wine - and a lot of teasing, I was highly aroused and really needed to get fucked. He suggested we checked out his friend's lake house – a place right on the lake that was currently empty. Sure, that sounded like a little adventure. Once we got there, I realized the place consisted of several wooden cabins, all left open and unlocked, and in a substantial state of disarray – no one had tidied or cleaned that place up in a very long time. Well, it's not like we were going inside any of the cabins.
We dipped our feet in the cold lake water. For a short second we contemplated jumping in, but decided against it. With our feet still in the water, we started making out.
I was initially excited that his cold was finally over and I could kiss him, but he wasn't much of a kisser. I don't even know if he did it well because he just didn't do it much. And when he did, it felt awkward. He wasn't awkward about any other sexual or non-sexual activities  but he was about kissing. As if it was something he had to consciously decide to do each time and then prepare himself for it mentally. So I quickly gave up on the kissing thing. I like to kiss when people are good kissers, but I'm happy not to kiss if they're not good kissers or not into it; there's so much else that can be done.
"Can we fuck here?" I asked.
"Absolutely!" he didn't hesitate.
I dropped down on my knees and took his cock out. He was already hard. I tried sucking him for a bit, but the pebbles digging into my knees were making that difficult. There was a picnic table on the other side of one of the cabins. We walked over there, grabbed the condoms and the small bottle of lube I had conscientiously packed in my day bag, and I bent over the table lifting up my dress. He quickly got out of his pants, keeping his shoes on to protect against the evil gravel. (He wasn't wearing any underwear since I had previously complained I didn't like boxers and he didn't own any boxer briefs: How cute is that?)
And then he plunged into me. I was so incredibly wet from several hours of teasing that I didn't really need any lube. It felt so good to finally have a cock inside me. The unmistakable feeling of fullness and the familiar in-and-out motion started taking me into that dreamy world of moans and groans. My knees started trembling, and I had to try hard to stay standing bent over the picnic table like that.
I looked around and took in the nature. The sun was up and it was warm. There were only a few scattered fluffy clouds in the sky, but the dense trees extending all the way to the edge of the lake were shading us away from direct sunlight. The birds were chirping. A small waterfall on a river feeding into the lake was gurgling just a few feet behind us. And then there was the lake, a big, peaceful, blue body of fresh water. Actually it wasn't quite blue. The reflection of the sun was such that the lake's surface resembled a translucent mirror. It also wasn't entirely peaceful. Two people in a canoe were paddling across the lake about 100 yards away from us. We could hear their indistinguishable chatter. I wondered if they could see us and hear my moaning.
Not that I cared. If anything, the possibility of being seen and heard was an additional turn-on. I like being watched. I like being maybe watched.
I realized it had been a while since I'd had sex outdoors surrounded by nature. There is something very serene, very, well, natural about fucking in nature, as if that is the way it's supposed to be, the way it used to be in our primordial past. Yet, there is also something naughty about it, something forbidden...
Rideshare wanted to look at me while fucking me, so he asked me to lie down on the table facing up. I did. The wood was hard against my tailbone, but it wasn't unbearable. In fact, the position was perfect for his cock to be hitting my G-spot, and I soon had two consecutive orgasms. I was about to have a third when he came without a warning. He made no noise or gave out any other signs of being close to coming – he just briefly tensed up and let out the quietest of sighs at the moment he came. That always irks me a little bit – I like the sounds of sex, just as like the sights, the smells, or the tastes. Vocalizing your pleasure is a way to let me know you're enjoying yourself, and that's an additional turn-on. Not to mention, it signals to me when you're getting close, and that is often very valuable information.
I kept his cock inside me and, as I often do, tried to reach another climax after he came, but I didn't manage. I wasn't too worried though. The day was far from over.
We washed up in the lake, put our clothes back on, and headed to the farmhouse where he lived. I knew that my chances of getting an MFM with his supposedly hot housemate were fairly slim, but a girl could hope. And as you will read soon, boy, did her hopes come true...
More stories featuring Rideshare:
Posing Nude - and Dripping Wet - for a Drawing Class
Can I Get an Ass Fucking to Go with the Belt?
Pervertically Virtuous | May 28, 2013 at 2:03 pm | Tags: exhibitionism, orgasm, Rideshare, sex story | Categories: Casual sex, Sex Stories |

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