She moved her legs from around his waist and kicked them out into the air, insensible now to all except her approaching climax and the importance of letting nothing stand in its way.
“Hold on, now,” grunted Ben. “Are you nearly there?”
“Yes, yes.”
“Good, that’s good, because my arms… Oh, God.”
She forced her pelvis upwards, wanting to bury him deep as deep inside her while she poured herself all over him, bathing him, smothering his cock in her juices. Her cry was unstoppable, but she didn’t worry about disturbing anyone because, in that moment, nobody else existed.
Ben released his orgasm immediately, making helpless sob-like noises into her hair. Then he stepped back from the trunk and staggered, with Vanessa still attached, to the ground on his side.
Vanessa broke into weepy laughter as she lay, winded, on the ground, her cheek pressed to the damp grass, her cunt still full of Ben’s softening cock.
“Oh, God, oh, God,” sighed Ben, interspersing his exhalations with kisses on Vanessa’s brow. “Oh, God. I think my arms might drop off. I may never play the xylophone again.”
“Awww.” Vanessa gave him a long, smoochy kiss on the lips. “You will. You’ll be fine. Oh, Ben. You make me enjoy things I can’t imagine finding enjoyable. How do you do it?”
“Haven’t you ever done it outside before?” He sounded surprised.
“No, never. You know me.”
He ruffled her hair. “Yeah. I know you. But I still thought you could be persuaded…and I was right.”
“This dress’ll never be the same, though.”
“Neither will this shirt.”
They lay for a while in a close embrace, breathing out the intensity of the encounter until their limbs stopped shaking. Vanessa felt herself drifting away, wrapped up in the birdsong and the susurrations of the trees. Ben’s arm lay like a weight upon her, and one of his legs trapped hers beneath it. She felt infinitely cosy and protected and loved. The sweat and grime were insignificant. Happiness was here, a happiness that was all the sweeter for being so unexpected.
“Ben,” she said softly. He seemed to have fallen asleep.
“Uh.” He gasped for breath, blinking wildly. “Yeah? What? You all right, babe?”
“Should we…tidy ourselves up now?”
“Mmm, a minute.” Another manful effort brought him to himself, and he propped himself on an elbow and pulled his deflated cock out, sitting up to deal with the condom. His jeans were still crumpled around his knees, the belt hanging either side of his open fly. A large sweat patch covered the front of his shirt, with a matching one on the back. His hair stuck out at all angles and his eyes were drowsy.
Vanessa thought he looked like an angel. She wanted to frame him and keep him like that, in his post-sex glow, forever.
“You’re really gorgeous, you know?” she said to him.
He smiled slowly.
“I should be saying that to you. I’ve never seen you look so mussed and it’s damn sexy. You should get mussed up more often.”
“Maybe I will. It’s not as scary as I thought.”
“Good.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “I’ll help you with that.”
Vanessa reached across the glade for her discarded knickers, shaking out the dirt as best she could, grimacing at the state of the gusset.
“These can go in the bin,” she said, then her phone rang.
She crawled across to where her handbag sat neatly beneath a bush and fished it out.
She looked over at Ben and made a face.
“Lydia,” she said.