Male dominant, female submissive

“Hold on, let me just grab the backpack,” he said as she reached her hand out to him from the trail entrance.

“Backpack?” she asked – what do we need that for.

“Lot easier to hike with a backpack than a picnic basket,” he said. “I’d far rather my hand hold yours.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” she responded before kissing him and moving to the trail. She never saw the smirk on his face.

The next few hours were spent in bliss. They chatted, walking hand-in-hand, exploring a new-to-them trail. They’d sneak a kiss during a private moment when they had to hop over a stump or around a pile of mud.

After a particularly steep hill, he pinned her to a tree and kissed her, hungrily, while pinning her against a tree. She gasped as he bit her lower lip. She moaned when his hand found its way under her shirt and grasped her left breast, squeezing.

“Think we can get away with getting naked here?” she asked, breaking the kiss and starting to remove her shirt.

He responded with “perhaps – but we have further to go,” and, breaking contact with her, he went on, further, down the trail.

She followed, running to catch up with him after re-situating her bra and straightening her t-shirt.

A half hour later, after another serious climb, they came about an overlook. “You must be able to see the whole county from up here,” she remarked.

“It’s pretty wonderful, isn’t it?” he asked in response, before adding “that fallen tree over there, I think that’ll make a wonderful picnic table”. And with that, he took off the backpack and they sat.

His arms reached around her and took her into a tight embrace as their lips found one another. In a twist of limbs, her shirt found its way onto the forest floor. As he reached to unclasp her bra, she stopped him, forcing his shirt off first.

Then she removed her bra. Topless, she looked up at him. “Take me,” she said. And with that, he pulled her into another embrace. Their lips met. He, again, took her bottom lip between his teeth and smirked when she winced. It took him a good couple seconds to let up.

He released her from the embrace and grabbed a fistful of hair from the back of her skull. She stiffened and he maneuvered her over his lap. Switching hand holding the hair from his right to his left, he lightly swatted her ass as her head was held strictly in place.

And then came a harder swat.

And an even harder swat.

And once again.

Then he released her hair before quickly moving both hands to her shorts and, unceremoniously, forcing them down.

His left hand resumed it’s holding of her hair, and he kept her head high as his right hand smacked her bare ass.

Each time his hand found her bottom, he pressed into it: groping, feeling, kneading, savoring. Some spankings found their way to the backs of her thighs. Sometimes, they landed on the top-side, just below that line where “ass” becomes “back.”

When the knuckles of his palm lined up with the crack of her ass, however, that grasping & feeling would find her sex. She squirmed as his fingers would explore. And that squirming would make the erection pressing against her chest, through his shorts, all the more evident.

Eventually, the spankings came more infrequently as his fingers did more exploring.

“You’re not cumming yet,” he said, starting to tease her clitoris with his fingertips. “I want you to wait until I say.”

For what felt like forever, he teased her most sensitive areas while pulling back on her hair. She breathed hard. He grew harder as he saw her doing whatever she could to keep herself in control.

He felt her body grow truly tense as his fingertips massaged her clit and he relented – moving his fingers away from her clit and releasing the grip of her hair. She let out a hungry wail of frustration with the break of contact.

A few seconds later, both of his hands found her hair and he forced her to her feet before standing, himself. He nearly fell over, tripping over the shorts hanging about her ankles.

“I think you can take those off,” he said, before heading into the backpack. She sat back down on the log and maneuvered her shorts off over her hiking boots (not the easiest of feats). She she completed, she looked at him — it wasn’t sandwich he had pulled from his pack.

“Hold your hands out,” he said, holding a pair of cuffs in front of her — she complied and he placed her wrists in bondage. Then he pulled out a length of rope.

He tied a knot to the chain connecting the two cuffs and then tossed the loose end of the rope over a low-hanging branch. Pulling, he brought her hands high above her head before securing the wrists above her head. She could reach the ground – but only barely – if she stood on her tiptoes.

He traced his fingers across her jaw line, and his lips found her mouth. She struggled to keep herself positioned as he leaned against her. Breathlessly, he broke the kiss before heading back to the backpack.

He returned with a series of clothespins. First, he placed one upon her right nipple. Then her left. Then a dozen pins were placed on the underside of each breast.

He stood back, smiling at the beauty before him.

He pulled out his phone & snapped pictures. “You’re beautiful like this” he said.

She blushed.

He unfastened his belt and then took it off. And a series of twenty lashes to her bottom started, raising angry welts.

Tears started streaming down her face as the struggled to keep her footing.

Dropping the belt, he walked next to her, standing just to her side. His left hand reached around her. His right hand went to her sex.

“Look at me,” he said as his fingers looked to massage her clitoris yet again.

She met his gaze through her tear-filled eyes and he increased the pressure against her clitoris.

She closed her eyes and sighed.

“Look at me,” he whisper-ordered.

Willfully, she opened her eyes and, again, met his gaze.

“Now. Cum,” he said as two of his strong fingers worked into her and his thumb pressed against that little button of hers.

Her body trembled. She never looked away from him as the combination of what he was actively doing to her, the extended denial, being in public, the breeze against her skin, her aching bottom, her pinched breasts, and his command resulted in an otherworldly reaction.

He retracted his fingers from her sex as he kissed her forehead. Slowly, he started removing the pins from her left breast, letting them fall to the forest floor. When that was clear, he massaged the angry-looking pincer marks before doing the same to her right breast. By the time he was done, her breathing had returned to normal.

He, again, pulled out his phone. “You always glow after an orgasm,” and recorded memories for himself.

Sliding his phone into his back pocket, he reached down to pick up her feet. With a little powerlifting snatch-like movement, he had his head between her legs, her thighs resting on his shoulders.

“You have no idea how much I love to taste you,” he said, before pulling her body closer to his mouth and devouring her sex. His tongue pressed flat, he licked from the base of her vagina to her clit, again and again, as he held her body close to him.

It wouldn’t have mattered if he had instructed her not to cum again – the weightlessness, the carnal want in his tongue’s actions, the breeze on her skin, the closeness of that “right now” would have been too much for anyone to hold back. She came, hard. And then again, before he simply held his tongue against her clit.

When her breathing had seemed to return to normal, he allowed her legs to slide down. “Wow, that was…wow,” she said as her tippy-toes, again, reached the forest floor.

“You know, though,” she continued, “I can’t help but notice just how over-dressed you are.”

“Oh, am I?” he jested, before unbuttoning his shorts and mimicking her “get the pants off without taking the shoes off” routine. Walking back to her, he started to stroke his erect penis.

“You know I hate it when you do that in front of me,” she said, watching him pleasure himself.

“It’s why I do it,” he said as he approached her. He dropped his manhood before reaching above her head and un-fastening rope securing the cuffs.

Her arms dropped, reflexively, and she found herself falling to her knees. But while she was down there, her still-cuffed together hands worked to his dick and she took the length of him into her mouth.

Both of his hands worked into her hair and he let out of primal growl as he fucked her face.

“Fuck,” she said, removing him from her mouth. “I fucking love that sound” and she stood. Grabbing him by the dick, she led him to the makeshift picnic table. “Sit,” she said.

He did.

She straddled him.

Locked in an embrace, they fucked, their mouths intertwined. He growled again and then he was releasing into her. She held him against her until he fell out of her.

“You know,” she said, “I could actually use something real to eat.”

“Well, Poppet – maybe it’s a good thing that I brought more than sex toys in the picnic backpack.” Nude, save for his hiking boots, he went over and pulled out a blanket, a bottle of wine, and some cheese & grapes. On the forest floor, they dined, and laughed, and kissed, and drank, and simply enjoyed being together.

“There’s only one thing I don’t like about all that foreplay,” she said, as they started to get dressed.

“Oh?” he responded, legitimately perplexed.

She blushed and looked away, but could sense that there was a swat coming to her ass so she blustered out “I like it when you grow hard in my mouth. Today, my only interaction with you, you were all ready to fuck me.”

“Well, I’m sure you could wake me and get your wish tomorrow” he replied.