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 thoughts. 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 . . . --