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Archive-name: SpecMome/picnic.txt

Archive-author: Nicole

Archive-title: Picnic, The

The morning dawns bright and clear, as we awaken with the rising sun, 

which extends delicate streamers of light through the breeze-blown

curtains. We stretch lazily, clinging to each other, memories of 

last nite's intimacy filling our thoughts.

"What shall we do today?" you whisper.

I turn to you with a mischievous grin, secret silent thoughts 

running through my mind, "Oh, maybe we could go to the beach, or 

maybe a picnic up in the mountains.  It's such a beautiful day I want 

to be outside.  I could pack a nice lunch, and off we go for the 

entire day.  We've both been working too hard lately.  Let's just do 

something relaxing."

We snuggle and huggle a bit, lingering so as not to leave the warmth 

of the bed and each other's arms, but anxiously anticipating a 

special day together.  With a quick, brief press of lips, we turn 

simultaneously and climb out of bed.  We cross the room and I enter 

the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror.  What a fright I look!!

Last night's seemingly endless lovemaking has left its exhausting touch

on my disarrayed hair, I think as I smile to myself in the mirror.  I 

reach down to turn on the faucet and I feel your presence in the room 

with me.  I look in the mirror and see you coming up behind me.  You 

stand there and put your arms around me and say, "I love you honey. 

Last nite was incredible.  Haha, look at your hair.  Hope you aren't 

going on any picnics with me looking like that!!"  I enclose my arms 

over yours which have circled round my waist and lean gently back 

against you, feeling aroused by your closeness, as I laughingly say, 

"You did this to my hair, love.  Ah, but don't you like it?"  We hug 

like this for a moment, rocking slightly.  I feel my ever-increasing 

arousal, fleetingly thinking of inviting you back to bed for awhile, 

but think 'we're never going to make it to this picnic.'  So I 

say, "Let me take a shower, fix my hair, pack a lunch, and we can 

figure out where we should go."  You pat me on the bottom, eyes 

looking into mine in the mirror, reading my thoughts as a glowing 

grin touches your lips, and say, "ok, hon, let's get moving then."  I 

turn and give you a quick kiss, my bare chest delicatly brushing 

across yours, my nipples being caressed by the tickling hairs on your 

chest.  "Ok," I say, "I'm so excited about today.  It's been so long 

since we've been on a picnic, just relaxing outside."

You reluctantly leave the bathroom, sensing my now-obvious passion 

and knowing I want you yet again . . .

I move over to the bathtub and turn on the shower and climb inside, 

allowing the water to stream over my body.  I am thinking about today 

and being together with you.  Suddenly, the water turns cold!!  You 

are playing tricks on me.  I screech, "John, stop that!  You know 

you're taking my hot water."  You laugh from somewhere in the house, 

"Who me?  Would I do something like that to you my sweet?"

"You would!  You want to take a shower too?  Why don't you wait 

till i'm finished, or maybe you could . . . "  Before I finish my 

sentence, the shower door slides open and you climb inside with me, a 

bar of soap in one hand and the shampoo in the other.  You glance 

down at my body, water rivulets running and dripping from my breasts 

and travelling down between my legs.  My hair is wet and droplets of 

water shimmer and cling to the wet tangle of hair, and I watch 

your eyes tracing the curves of my body.  Your roving eyes are 

exciting me as if I can feel your touch upon my silky-wet skin and my 

eyes shine unabashedly with mounting passion, desire and longing.  I

look down at your body, still dry, because I'm standing between you and 

the water rushing from the shower. I take the soap from your hands 

and rub it vigorously between mine and then stoke my soapy hands 

across your shoulders, moving down, tracing soapy designs on your 

chest, and circling your nipples till I can see signs of your own 

arousal.  My eyes move lower and I can see the evidence of your 

desire reaching out towards me, strong and hard.  I feel a familiar 

sensation emanating from within my soft female place, a warm 

quivering from deep within that tells me I want to be filled with

you and your love.  I part my legs slightly and step towards you and 

envelope your hardness between my thighs, closing gently, feeling the 

insistent and urgent press of your manhood working its way inside the 

water-wet triangle of my hair.  You sense a warmth as you feel my woman

wetness, unlike the water cascading around and between us, make contact

with your skin.  You move back and forth, distributing my wetness, 

your hardness sliding gently across my hidden softness, slowly 

arousing, stimulating .... 

I arch my back, moving into you and touch my now-hardened nipples 

against the soapy sheen of your chest, encircling my arms around your 

back, holding us close together.  With a quick movement, you pick me 

up and set me upon you, sliding your hardness within the folds of my

inner being, finding your place deep within my warm wet softness.  I 

cling to you, holding my upper body close to your chest, your head 

resting in the curve of my neck.  You insistently push within me and 

I move in unison with you, feeling you touch deep, deep inside me. 

We're bound together, not just in the fierceness of our passion and 

arousal, but in the need to give love to one another in a way like no 

other.  I touch my hands to your face and look down at you, speaking 

with my eyes as I fleetingly brush my lips against yours. No words 

are spoken, but silently, knowingly, our movements stop and you set 

me gently down upon my feet, pulling away from me, feeling the cling 

of my womanness against you as you slowly withdrawn from my 

warmth.  We know, without the necessity of words, that we don't want

to complete this act of our love now.  Time later in the day . . .

Somehow, we finish our shower, laughingly, playfully, and we step out 

of the shower, grabbing towels and drying ourselves, moving quickly 

about, dressing, drying and combing hair.  And I go into the kitchen 

to fix a picnic lunch while you go outside and start the car.  We 

grab a blanket, light jackets, some magazines (haha! this is *MY*

story), the lunch bag, the cooler, and off to the car.  Guess we must 

have decided on the mountains instead of the beach - jackets instead 

of bathing suits and suntan lotion!!

You move the car slowly through the traffic, no hurry today, no 

tension, till you find the highway leading up to the mountains. 

We're talking about where we're going, trying to remember that place 

we have in memories, from a day long ago, when we were young and 

silly and used to come up here.  As we climb higher and reach the 

level of pine trees, and breathe the scent of clean forest air, we 

seem to recognize landmarks, or maybe its only the sight and 

fragrance of the woods conjuring up memories of being young and 

in love.  I peek at you from under my lashes and softly say, "John,

do you remember?  Seems like a long time ago, but then again, it's 

like it was yesterday.  We were so young, and so silly, and so in 

love."  I touch your arm on the steering wheel and idly move my 

fingertips up and down from wrist to elbow as I whisper, "I love you 

still, so much!"  Your eyes move away from the winding road a brief 

moment and gaze into mine as you say, "I love you too hon."

We drive a bit further.  We're confused, can't seem to find the exact 

place we remember.  Oh well, it doesn't really matter, and besides, 

it's been a long drive and we're getting hungry.  We've been 

following an icy blue, languidly moving creek for awhile, and I say 

with girlish excitement, "Oh, let's find a place somewhere near this 

river."  The river twists away from the road, and you follow a 

sideroad which seems to parallel its course, moving away from the 

main highway, off into the depth of the forest.  We follow the road 

aways back into the woods, as it twists and turns, and bumps us 

around a bit, sloshing the water and ice in the cooler.  Around the 

next bend the forest opens into a beautiful grass-filled meadow, the 

river drifting by in the background, the grasses bowing their heads 

ever so slightly in the gentle breeze.  A pretty place, yet 

romantically secluded.  "Oh John, here, this place, isn't this 

perfect?"  You smile and turn the car in the direction of the river 

and find a place to park.  I move to give you a quick kiss, and 

then spring out of the car, running down to the banks to touch the 

water, and then run back to you flicking the icy water on your face, 

laughing, and then running to the back of the car so we can unload 

our stuff.  You open the trunk and then wrap your arm around my 

shoulder and pull me close to you and give me a tight, lingering hug. 

"Are you happy, Nicole?" you say.  My eyes sparkle with excitement, 

"Yes, and hungry too!!"  I grab the blanket and the picnic lunch and 

head towards the creek, and you reach for the cooler and follow me. 

"Don't forget the magazines John" I say.  You laugh, and think, oh, 

she wants to read magazines.  I spread out the blanket and set the 

lunch bag down and then sit cross-legged next to it.  You join me, 

brush the hair away from my eyes as the breeze moves it around my 

face, and kiss me lingeringly again, speaking to me with lips as they 

move against mine.

I drop back on the blanket, feeling the cushion of grass beneath, and 

look up at the clouds drifting across the sky.  Its so quiet. . .

all we can hear is the tinkle of the water behind us, the sound of 

the breeze moving softly through the tree leaves, the buzzing of 

insects flitting by....and the growling of someone's stomach. 

"Oh, yeah, food....let's eat!"  We eat slowly, looking around at the 

beauty of the place, talking a little, drinking diet Pepsi thirstily. 

After lunch, we walk down to the river and sit on some rocks and 

watch the water course by, talking, sitting close, your arm around my 

shoulder and mine around your waist, becoming quiet, lost in private 


We slowly walk back to the blanket and drop down.  You lean 

against a tree and I rest my head in your lap, picking up a magazine 

to read awhile.  You hand lightly smooths the hair away from my face 

and your finger brushes against my cheek, following the line of my 

chin, touching my lips.  I kiss your fingers, and then hold your hand 

in mine, closing my eyes a minute, dropping the magazine by my side. 

We sit this way a long while, nearly drifting into sleep.  Your other 

hand moves across my chest, delicately cupping my breasts, feeling 

through the thin fabric of my blouse how your touch makes me shiver 

in anticipation.  You pull me up till I'm in a sitting position, 

facing you, close enough to you so that you can reach across and 

touch me again.  Your hand drops down to the buttons on the front of 

my blouse and you begin to slowly unbutton, brushing your fingertips 

across the exposed skin as it falls to your view.  The whisper of 

rustling clothing mixes with the muted sounds of outside.  You 

reach the last button, open my blouse, and push it down from my 

shoulders, again moving your eyes over my body like earlier in the 

day.  My breathing quickens, as I reach over to you and unbutton your 

shirt like you did mine, moving my fingers over the hair on your 

chest, fumbling over the buttons, anxiously trying to remove the 

clothing.  Your hands reach behind me...a foreign snapping sound, a 

release of cloth from my skin, and you push the remaining bit of 

clothing from my upper body and cup your hands over my breasts and 

you gently push me down into the blanket and hover over me.  Your 

hand traces gentle paths from my waist, up to one breast, circling 

the nipple, then moving to the other.  Then you move your head down 

to touch each peak with your tongue, swirling around, circling.  I 

hold your head to me with one hand as I caress my fingertips across 

your shoulders, down one side, moving between us to find the snap on 

your jeans.  With an insistent tug, the snap breaks free, and I touch 

my fingertips just inside the waistband and move idly back and forth 

across your lower stomach.  Your breathing has increased too, sighs 

mingle with the sounds of nature and the rushing water behind us. 

Roaming hands and more whispers as clothing falls.  Our secluded 

spot deep within the forest makes us bold and forget normal 

inhibitions.  We want to be one with the nature around us, feeling 

the softness of the ground under us, the gentle touch of the breeze 

moving across bare skin as hands and fingertips find points of 

arousal.  Your body moves over mine, knowing by my breathing and 

sighs when my need for you is greatest.  What more beautiful way to 

express our love for each other than in the midst of the beauty of

nature, recalling memories of love past, and love present . . .



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