Saddle Sore

The perfect summer ride

Outdoors | Exhibitionism | D/s | Rough | 18+

August. Late summer. You've convinced me to take the day off at the last minute, before the heat fades away entirely and we’re wrapping up in scarves and coats, our breath visible in the air. But not yet. Today we have scraps of cotton between us, our clothes a suggestion. We've escaped London, the countryside in touching distance on the train - the endless green past the high glass towers and smoke of the city and shocks of white elderflower against the hedgerows, the humming of the bees just out of sight.

You have somehow convinced me to rent a bike with you and go swimming in a river you know nearby. Your silver tongue getting me to put aside my reticence. You make most days feel like an illicit adventure, but I am not prepared. I am wearing a dress and trainers and my hair isn't tied up. Wild and sticky with sweat now too, the late August heat rising, a shimmer on the road ahead of us, it feels too hot to cycle. But you've insisted. And I need to feel the cool water on my skin.

I have relented, somewhat for your approval, and also to prove you wrong, I can surprise you, push out of comfort zone. You’ve seen me do it, usually while you hold me still, you moving inside me, testing, watching, responding as my breath changes and you take me further still. Your name in my mouth before I break.

I sigh and say yes and swing my leg over the saddle. The seat hard between my legs. The push of the pedals under my feet, and then the breeze teasing my hair from my face. It feels good. To be outside with you. The heat of the sun and the cool air on my neck while I try to keep up with you on the bike, just ever so slightly out of breath. My skin pink and face blushed. Sweat slick between my thighs, my lower back, your grin wide as you look back to make sure I’m keeping pace.

We stop, in a clearing, near the river. I can hear it. But I can't see it, not yet. The anticipation of the water, and of you, its delicious and unbearable and I'm getting antsy with it. Whining about the heat and the ride, you laugh at my protesting.

Without warning you take the water bottle out of my hands and pour it down the front of my dress. The shock of it. The relief of it. My nipples harden immediately. The water running down legs. Soaking my already very damp knickers, and my socks. Making my dress cling to me.

I gasp, almost shriek, but you clamp your hand over my mouth. Push me up against a tree. The bark is warm from the sun, the river rushing somewhere behind us. The bees’ drone rises, or perhaps that’s the blood rushing through my ears, my heart rate matching the pulsing I can feel between my legs.

That's for whining

You hold your hand over my mouth

Now not another word until I say so

I nod, the shock of the water, the tone of your voice, the way my dress clings to every inch of me. My whole body reacts, that deep ache in my cunt, your other hand pulling my wet knickers aside, testing me, my hips rolling forward as you slip your fingers into me, soft and wet and open. I bite down on your hand. I want to beg for more but can't. You’ve told me no.

Silly little slut, can't help herself. Even in the middle if the day, in broad daylight

You turn me around and push me into tree, hard. The bark scratch my nipples where you've pulled the straps of my dress down, using them like a harness to keep a hold of me. You pull at my knickers, ripping the seams. revealing my ass pink from the saddle, my thighs a little raw and sensitive, and every touch that much more intense. I can feel your fingers tracing every soft spot, teasing. But not touching my cunt, throbbing and swollen, puffed up.

I'm whimpering now.

Please. Please I need to you inside me

A hard spank on my ass

Not a word remember?

You laugh and shove my ripped knickers in my mouth as you push me harder into the tree, the bark cutting into me again, splintered and rough. The softness of your touch. The heat. I can feel my legs start to give way just as you slide your fingers inside me, and I'm soaked, inside and out, I flood your fingers, my already sodden dress. I bite down on the wet material in my mouth, the taste of my cunt, and your fingers work me towards a sharp, splintering edge, I cum as you take my nipple in between your fingers and twist. Hard.

My legs give way and you push me to my knees. Your wet fingers hurry to unzip your trousers as I recover my breathing, you pull my hair from my face, twisted with tree bark and wet with sweat.

Spit out your dirty knickers, little slut and open wide

You feed me your cock. Rock hard and wet at the tip, dripping onto my bitten lips.

Right there on the path, me on my knees in the dirt, soaked through, scratched up and utterly fucked up in my need for you. We could be anywhere. And I'd be on my knees

You push your cock deep into my throat, just to that spot that makes you groan, and where you can fuck it. Because it's yours. Because I'm yours. Your fingers in my hair, fisting through in knots and close my neck, pulling me closer and your cock deeper. I swallow and open my throat wider, deeper. Your groans echo through the clearing, a bird escapes the tree above us, a shock of feathers and sound. The sound of the river rises, as you push harder and faster until you're making my spit flow down my chin, onto my tits. Slick with saliva and precum. A dirty fucking mess. You take as much as you can before you need more. Then you take that too.

Pull me up by hair

Push me up against the tree

Pull one of legs around your waist

Push your cock deep into my cunt

Watch my eyes go wide as you stretch me wider

As I take the whole length of you

And I yelp at the force of it

As you slam me into the tree

Hard

Again and again and again

The bruises on my ass deepening, the scratches widening, my skin breaks in thin crimson lines on my cotton dress, your cock pounding into me, your hand on my mouth, my throat. Your teeth, my skin, my neck. Your hands tearing my dress, ripping the straps, your mouth on my nipples, hard on your tongue. I can smell your sweat, and the mud at our feet, feel the heat of the sun breaking through the trees, taste the sharp metallic tell tale sign I have bitten down on my lip.

It all pulls you into focus, you ruining every each inch of me, salt and sweat and heat

Until you can’t hold it back anymore.

You shout my name. A warning almost,

and I feel you pulse inside me, your hot cum filling me up, as you thrust again

Your hands both around my neck. Holding me

Feeling it spill out of me while you still pound into me. Pushing every ounce of it into my cunt

Until you let go

And I lose the ability to stand

Covered in cum, and sweat and dirt

Your

Perfect

Little

Slut

Undone

You pick me up then, off the forest floor and to the river, cool water finally. You kiss me until I stop shaking. You let the river wash away the dirt and sooth the cuts and scratches, calm my senses with your voice, steady now that you have caught your breath. The forest returns to quiet

Your rucksack provides us with oranges to peel and cheap red wine to drink. A spare t-shirt, over my ruined dress. I spill the wine, still shaky and blissed out, my body humming along with the bees. There river rushes on and we fall asleep in the sun.

When we wake up we have burned shoulders and noses, smelling of oranges, and sex. I convince you to walk the bikes back to the station, saddle sore and weary . The low evening sun covering a multitude of sins. The train back to London reflects our faces in grimy glass. Flushed and full of summer, we return refreshed

The fever breaks