The quiet country footpaths of my Youth

I went to an all boys boarding school in Henley-on-Thames. It was a beautiful house (as featured in the recent St Trinian's remake) set in extensive grounds, with woods, lawns, two lakes, and a fairy grotto. (no jokes please!). It was a wonderful place to go to school. But unfortunately we were only allowed out of the school grounds on Saturdays, and on Sunday to attend church. Yawn. Consequently us horny young boys didn't get many opportunities to meet horny young girls. Or any fecking girls!! There was only the headmaster's wife, who looked like a garden rake, but with smaller tits, and Matron. Imagine a fatter version of Hattie Jaques, with a moustache and body odour. Ghastly.
But thank goodness for school holidays, when we could go home. Especially the summer holiday, which seemed to go on forever.
Home for me was a leafy suburb of south east London. A short bus ride north and I was in the city. Another going south took me to the country. But I tended to cycle everywhere on my trusty bike, with cow-horn handlebars. Which were cool. I liked to set off early in the morning with a packed lunch and a bottle of fizz, and peddle off into the wide green yonder. Down country lanes. Through small villages. And across fields.
This was of course, before developers fucked all that up with an endless sprawl of des-res semi-detached housing estates with all mod cons for the nuclear family, easy access by road or rail to take commuters into the heart of the bustling Metropolis, convenient shopping centres for the wives, and brand new secondary modern schools for the brats.
Trouble was, that having done the shopping, and a bit of housework, said wives often found they had had lots of spare time on their hands, but few ready-made ways to keep them occupied.
And in those long hot summer days one simply had to get out of the house. Maybe go for a nice walk in the surrounding countryside. In a nice summer skirt, and thin blouse. It's SO hot, and there's never anyone around, so why bother with a bra?

Except quite often a certain horny teenage boy happened to be cycling down the same under-used public footpaths as those fine young wives, in their jaunty summer skirts and see-through blouses, that they didn't expect anyone to see them in.
Of course the poor boy couldn't help but notice those wondrous mounds of firm pink flesh bouncing up and down with each step as they came toward him. He was drawn to them, helpless, like the moth, like hypnotism.
He was a well brought up k**, and knowing it was rude to stare, tried not to. 'But fuck, I can see her nipples and everything!! And she knows I'm looking. I bet I'm blushing like a bloody beetroot. And she's not even trying to cover them up!! Fuck!'
A polite nod and a curt 'alright' as he passes. And he is on his way.

But his horny teenage mind is no longer concentrating on the track, watching out for potholes and dangerous tyre grooves baked solid in the sun-dried mud. It was too much. He couldn't peddle his bike with a hard on like that one, so a couple of yards on he propped the bike up against a tree, and went behind it for a wank.

He's fantasising about what if he's stopped to talk to her.
Maybe invite her to sit in the field and share his packed lunch. And she'll lay down and do a bit of sunbathing. Then take suntan lotion out of her back and pass it to him, saying 'would you mind', as she peels off the blouse and bares her back to him. And he spreads lotion on her warm skin, as she leans her head back onto his shoulder.
'And the front.' She says. His throat is dry. He wants a drink but he dare not break the spell.
He drips lotion onto her splendid tits, smoothing it over them. God, her nipples are so hard, and sticking out.. 'Mmm', she says, 'that feels really nice. You're good at feeling a woman up aren't you'. 'Yeah', he says.
And she lays down on the soft grass. Her nipples are standing up like two ripe strawberries. He wants so badly to suck tem. 'You can kiss me if you like'. And he does. His young cock is hard as a rock and near to bursting. She can feel it against her thigh. And...
Well that was how his fantasy went.
It didn't take him long. His spunk shot high and landed on the tree trunk, clinging to the bark, thick and white. 'God that was a fucking great wank!' he said out loud, without realising he had.
'Yes it must have been.'
WHAT!! He sat bolt upright, trying to hide his cock and at the same time look behind him to where the voice came from. It was her. The woman on the path. She must have turned round and come back. Oh god. I'm so fucking embarrassed!!
'Oh. Erm. Er. Did you see me? I'm sorry, I..'
'Yes I did. Don't apologise. I think it's quite sweet. Were you thinking about me?'
She came around the tree and stood next to him.
'Erm. Yeah. No, I mean, sort of.'
'I'm quite flattered. Tell me', she said, resting one hand against the tree trunk, 'tell what were you thinking?' while she gently stroked her tits with the other. 'Go on. I don't mind. In fact it turns me on!'
As she knelt down beside him her fingers touched his spunk, still clinging to the bark.
'Ooh my! Is this yours? Mmm, it's lovely and thick. You must have been saving it up.' And scooping it up with her fingertips, she opened her lips and tasted it with the tip of her tongue.
'It tastes beautiful. Salty and creamy! I love tasting spunk.'

The boy was half sitting half crouching. Unsure what to do. She licked her fingers clean, and gently taking his wrist, lifted his hand away from the cock it was unsuccessfully trying to
hide.
'Let me see.... Goodness me, that IS a nice one. And you're still erect.'
'Erm. Yeah.'
'What shall we do about that then?'
A bashful 'Dunno.'
'Well I do'... She bent down and slipped his cock between her lips. Making him come almost immediately. She took his cock deep into her mouth, as he arched his back, and tangled his fingers into the thick black hair on her head, she sucked up his hot young spunk. Swallowing it down, until there was no more left to swallow.
She laid down beside him and kiss him on the lips. 'There, that wasn't so bad was it?'
'No. It was fucking amazing! Thankyou!'
'You are very welcome. Can I have some pop? I noticed it sticking out of your saddle bag.' With that she got up and bought back the drink and packed lunch. 'Yummy, we can have a nice picnic. And after that...... I think ought to fuck me. OK?'

I met Sandra, that incredibly horny 24 year old housewife, several times after that, throughout the long hot days of that summer break.
But I also took different routes, on different paths, at different times, and on different days. Because there were a lot of under-used public footpaths in that area. And I discovered that there were a lot of women, just like Sandra, but different, who enjoyed strolling along them. Dressed in loose fitting light summer outfits. Often without underwear!
And I learned that it was more polite to stop for a nice chat, rather than just cycle on by. They seemed to like this polite young man who offered to pass the time of day with them, and share his pop and maybe a sandwich.
And some of them didn't mind if I kept looking at there tits, or legs. They sort of liked it. It was flattering.
And I didn't mind at all when I laid back on the soft grass to catch some rays and digest the picnic, if they noticed the swelling in my jeans.
Some of them even seemed to like noticing it. Which flattered me.
And some of those nice young, and not so young, married ladies of North Kent, even enjoyed sucking and fucking it too.
Just as well I was always horny!!

I thank all those lovely ladies from the bottom of my heart for the best summer ever!!