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Whispers from Mossy Grove

The bog is churning, its waters alive with want and desire. Francie stands at water's edge, holding its hand, her body ripe with life and her sex aroused and desperate for release.

She kneels at the edge, her sex spreads naturally and a slight breeze teases each fold. The water laps at her feet sending shivers through her sexually charged body. The siren continues her call.

A flash glistens nearby, catching Francie's eye. The sun's rays dance off an irridescent shell, its large mounded exterior right side up. The shell so beautiful, so perfect, a gift from the siren. The siren encourages Francie to enjoy it, be one with it.

Francie skips to the shell, anticipating pleasure. She playfully covers its exterior with an outstretched hand but the shell's edges are still visible. Francie traces the rough exterior of the haliotis shell with her fingers and giggles.

The siren encourages and Francie lustfully lays on the shell, much like a man would lay on a woman. She spreads her labia for full contact with the shell's hard mound. She begins to rock, her clitoris rubbing against the rough surface. Francie raises her torso, arches her back, and presents her breasts to the siren. She continues to rock her sex on the shell, her serene face turned upward, the expression of pleasure on her face.

Francie moans with each movement, with each pass over her clitoris. She masturbates herself with this shell, this perfect shell that mimics a woman's mound.

Her moans quicken as she begins her upward spiral to her climax. The song of her siren, her female lover, are now moans. Francie looks toward the bog, desperate to see her, and noticing a vision becoming clearer.

Laura appears, so beautiful, so with child. Laura, her face in heightened pleasure, still so kind. Their eyes meet, connect and communicate in silence.

Just as Laura moans with incredible pleasure, Francie topples over the edge, still riding the shell and shouting out as her orgasm sends spasm after spasm, her uttering uncontrollable.

Francie exhausted, heaves onto the ground. Facing the bog, her eyes search for her beautiful friend. She finds her, a beautiful vision.

Laura smiles, blows a kiss and disappears.
 
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Francie is startled awake by the cold touch of a finger on her lips. She opens her eyes and looks into the piercing gaze of Laura, whose face is so clear, so close. Her eyes, the color of the Mediterranean, reflect Francie's own face.

Francie lifts her hand to touch the angelic face and Laura, casting her eyes downward, backs away into the marshy bog.

Not wanting her to go, Francie sits up and holds her belly, feeling the child stir. Laura, her gaze back on Francie, smiles and caresses her own fertile belly. The veil between dimensions lifted, the two women -- connected by the love of a patriach and his grandson -- bare themselves to each other, an intimacy shared by lovers and those united as one.

Laura studies her contemporary of sorts, the softness, the curves. Her breasts, full and rounded from pregnancy, hang perfectly, forward pink nipples swollen, preparing to nourish a hungry newborn.

Her breasts are seemingly held up by her belly, which is stretched beautifully and taut. Francie, her legs parted by the weight of her belly, flashes a mound of soft fuzz, not tended to as of late but so inviting and showing the way to her sex. Her pink labia, glorious folds, glimmer in the sunlight much like the shell did. An invitation to come enjoy

"You can, please," Francie encouraged, her eyes and a smile welcoming Laura. Francie shifts and opens her legs wider, the folds soften, her sex becomes visible.

Laura, watching intently, moves toward Francie, and sits facing her, revealing her own sex . Laura looks at Francie, silently asking. Francie nods.

Gingerly, Laura touches Francie's soft mound, her fingers raking through the fuzz. Francie lifts her mound toward Laura, craving more. Laura smiles and her finger traces down the mound to the swollen labia, touching them, separating them. Francie moans, lifts her head back and shudders. "Yes, please don't stop."

Laura reaches to her own sex, gathers juice, and traces the outside of Francie's opening. Still watching Francie's pleasured face, Laura inserts her fingers into Francie's well, and combines hers with Francie's. Her fingers wet, Laura circles Francie's clitoris, gently at first, and more aggressively as Francie's breathing quickens. Laura presses deeply against the side of Francie's clitoris, drawing intense pleasure from the gspot below.

Francie, on the verge of climax, grabs her left breast and pinches the nipple. Laura silently pleasures her friend, watching and hearing her rising to orgasm. As Francie peaks, her cries announce each spasm that shakes her body. Laura feels the contractions on her fingers as Francie soars. Francie, coming down, whimpers and moans. Her hand pushes away Laura's and she grasps her sex and holds it.

Francie smiles at her friend. Their eyes meet and hold each other's gaze.

A song sparrow chatters and Francie, distracted, looks away. When she looks back, Laura is gone.
 
The afternoon sun casts warmth on Francie's naked body as she sleeps lost in slumber on the mossy grove at the shoreline. She dreams of the maiden who calls her from the muddy waters, whose song she hears in waking hours and in her sleep.

https://youtu.be/vMTEtDBHGY4

Francie's sex stirs as the haunting lilt of the song fills her senses. Her mind flashes to churning sandy waters of the bog, where her beloved Laura and Dereck are voluntarily captive, writhing in pleasure, charged by the coarse swirls of the bog maiden's silted touches.

Laura, the curves and feminity of her naked flesh half immersed in the muddy waters, her face flushed with the blush of orgasm. Hands of sand trace over aroused breasts and unseen fingers tease her swollen sex. Her moans match those of Dereck's grunts. Lost in the intensity of coarse hands massaging his erect sex, Dereck's moans announce his climax.

Together they peak as the forest stops and listens. Their unified sound rises over the still treetops and up to the barren sky. Moans and grunts from spasms of intense pleasure fill the air rivaling that of the bog maiden's song, that of an ecstacy unbeknownst to mortal man.
 
They sat naked facing each other on the mossy grove near the bog's edge. Their sexes were exposed to each other as they lay bare their hearts. She was holding his cock. He was outlining the nipple of her left breast. They were silent. Her face was tear-stained. His, soft and compassionate.

They looked into each other's eyes. They had just pleasured each other. Hippie girl giving him a hand job. Hippie guy fingering her to orgasm. They laughed when they discovered some of his seed on a nearby rock, appropriately in the shape of a heart.

They were oblivious to the sounds the forest was making, leaves rustling from a gusty summer breeze, sounding much like a far away music festival. They were a tad high, both on substance and each other.

He reached forward, touching the soft curves of her flesh, massaging her tummy. She closed her eyes, reveling in the pleasure of his exploration and caresses. He leaned forward and began to kiss her softness, exposed. His kisses became licks as he craved the taste of her essence. He wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her closer, continuing to ravish her flesh with his tongue.

He couldn't get enough of her sweet flesh and mumured pleasure as he licked, his tongue lapping over her. Her moans mixed with his sounds. He lifted his face from her torso, still holding her tight, and smiled. Open your eyes, darlin', he whispered, let me look into your heart that I hold. Her eyes on his, she smiled back, her love washing over him. He kissed her long and hard.

When he pulled away, he looked at her with much adoration and love. Never doubt, darlin', he said and took her hand, kissed it and together they raised and began to dance .
 
They danced, him and her. Naked. Naked on the mossy grove at the bog's edge. Sunshine through the treetops illuminated her fair skin against the ruddiness of his complexion.

Their flesh was nearly one. Her breasts against his chest. His sex against hers. Her head resting against his shoulder. Her lips seeking his chin, his ears, his neck. His lips seeking her lips.

His arms wrapped tightly around her torso bringing her close to him. An occasional misstep on a bare foot brought giggles from both.

The rustling leaves of the forest was their music. The soft moss under their feet was their dance floor. The sun shining brightly on them was their moonlight.

Their bodies, highly charged from contact, reacted with little prompt.

She felt his penis prodding her sex, her pussy juices slicken his erection.

She backed away, looked down at his stiffening rod. Kneeling, she kissed it gently, paying extra attention to the spot on the underside of his head that drives him crazy. She looked up to his pleasured face. That brought her immense pleasure.

She kept licking, then began to suck. His moans made her more intent on pleasuring him, her guy, her lover. He stood, vulnerable to her and her mouth, as she made love to his cock, a word she used sparingly. His penis was more than something sexual to her. Her pussy was something more than sexual to him. They get it. They were a perfect fit, him and her, in every way.

She smiled hearing his urgent moans knowing he soon would climax and splash her mouth and breasts with his warm sweet cream. They would enjoy rubbing it on her nipples and licking them clean. Maybe, maybe not she would ask to cum. He would always ask, though. And tend to her until she released into his mouth.

And then they would cuddle, holding each other's sex that they revered. His hand cupped over her pussy and her hand lovingly holding his penis.

They loved each other, adored each other and cherished each other. You need proof? It's there, carved into the bark of the big ol' shade tree in the mossy grove where they first met. Look and you will see, L + A
 
The tree, with its full canopy, had been part of the landscape at the bog for maybe a hundred-plus years. It primarily was a refuge for the occasional songbird or ground animal seeking cover from a hawk bent on dinner. Its trunk was smooth from years of wind-swept sand skimming over the bog scrubbing its bark.

The mossy grove was a favorite place for the hippie couple who came often to sit under the tree, get high and make love.

The couple, her strawberry blonde hair in braids, a few loose strands forever escaping the thin cloth band around her forehead, and him, a full head of touseled dark curls that matched a crooked grin, laugh as they chase each around the wide trunk of the hefty tree.

Her in a blue sleeveless dress, nothing else. Him in denim bellbottoms frayed from scraping pavement and a concert t-shirt, its design long faded. Both barefoot, the soles of their feet stained from dirt.

A little high, they wrap their linked arms around the tree and come up short. He raises her arm into the air, twirling her, causing her to fall. Legs seemingly everywhere, her dress rises to her waist, and reveals what she isn’t wearing. Her blonde furry mound catches the sun and his attention. Pulling down her dress, she blushes, scoots back against the tree and pats her lap. He drops to the ground, crawls over and lays his head on her lap.

Pink Floyd plays through the static on the transistor radio. He looks up into her fair eyes. She touches his face. His fingertips stroke her arm, then move to her cotton dress in search of the curve of her breast. She giggles, and pushes his arm away.

Standing up, he extends his hand. And they dance, her head on his chest. His hand finds the back of her dress, pulls it up, squeezes her ass, then holds it. They push into each other.

The beat changes, they separate. He holds her hand over her head, twirls her. Her dress flairs, her buttocks and soft mound take turns flashing him. He can't take his eyes off her. His eyes trace up to her breasts, with no restraint, bobbing to the beat.

A gust of wind blows from the bog, bringing a chill to the air. The tree’s leaves rustle, nature’s symphony rising to the heavens.

They look at each other in silence. He gathers her dress and lifts it over her head. Her breasts jiggle free, then settle. He touches a pink nipple, and it hardens.

She unzips his jeans. He struggles, standing on one leg and pulling off the other leg of his jeans. He falls to the ground in laughter, induced by embarrassment and weed. Pants off, next his shirt, she joins him on the blanket under the shade tree at Mossy Grove.

Facing each other, their heads resting on pillows smartly brought along, they begin to touch.
 
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Fascinated, as if it was for the first time, they touch each other deliberately.

She reaches for the bend of his jaw, resting her palm on his coarse flesh, her fingers playing with the lobe of his ear.

He traces the bridge of her nose, follows its curve to her lips. She opens her mouth as he follows her lips, outlining her softness several times. She smiles, her eyes on his, his eyes on his fingers as they massage her rosy lips.

He meets her gaze, and smiles as he feels her lips press together in a smile. He brings his fingers to his mouth, kisses them and presses them on her mouth. Her lips open and she takes in his fingers and sucks them, making love to them as she often has to his sex.

He closes his eyes, as she suckles him, bringing him intense pleasure. His sex begins to grow.

He moves closer to his hippie girl, desperate to taste her.

He moves his hand to her breast, massaging her soft and firm globe, flicking her nipple with each pass. He presses his tongue against her lips. She opens them for his tongue. They kiss deeply.

He traces her tummy, the curve of her hip, her skin soft and smooth. He slides his leg between hers and parts them, exposing her sex. His thigh rubs against her pussy, his cock against her tummy.

Looking into her eyes, he wets his finger and runs it along the crease of her hip down to her thigh. He pushes his finger into the heat of her pussy, feels her swollen clitoris, slides his finger between her folds, gathering the sweetness of her lust, coating his finger.

She humps his finger as he explores her hole, moaning the name of her hippie guy who she adores.

He touches his finger to his tongue, then paints her lips with her own wetness. Her lips glisten with her own juice. They kiss, their hands cradling each other's face. He slides his cock over her clitoris, again and again.

She grasps his forearm and whispers, please fuck me, slow and gentle. He guides his cock to her hole, presses it in, ever so gently. He rocks her, kissing, his fingers circling her clitoris as he makes love to her, filling her pussy with his length.
 
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They lay together side by side, heads on pillows, staring at the clouds, pointing out familiar shapes.

The joint burned, passed back and forth.

They are quiet, a contrast to urgent sounds of heightened pleasure mutually shared.

Still naked, buzzing from orgasms and weed.

The hippie guy fiddles with the radio trying to dial back in the station.

The hippie girl twirls her hair and looks for a puppy in the clouds.

A perfect leaf falls lazily from the tree canopy, is picked up by a wind gust and somersaults through the air, catching her attention.

She sits up watching as the leaf continues its dance on the breeze, moving farther and farther away. She squints her eyes as a bright light flashes near the bog's edge. An object, capturing the attention of the sun as well as the hippie girl.

Her pussy stirs and she gives his sex a playful tug before she jumps up to explore. Feeling groovy, she skips, her breasts in perfect rhythm. She is drawn to the psychedelic swirls of the flickering light.

At the bog, she stands, looking at what has lured her. Her nipples harden. Her sex heaves.

She kneels, and touches it.

A haliotis shell, still shimmering.
 
The shell, so beautifully illuminated by the sun.

The hippie girl, her skin warmed by intense heat radiating from the sky, runs a finger across the ragged and coarse surface of the mounded shell.

A sudden breeze rushes across her flesh, sending shivers through her body, chilling her. The breeze continues to tease, washing over her erect nipples, bringing steady waves of pleasure.

The hippie girl moans, enjoying her trip, her body craving more. She looks at the shell, a lovely mount for her needy sex. She lays on it, her pussy a perfect fit on the rounded shell.

She moves rhythmically on the shell, her clitoris against the rough surface prompting rapid ignitions of intense pleasure. With each pass, she continues to rise toward orgasm.

She closes her eyes, and focuses on her incredible pleasure spiraling upward. Her moans louder, uncontrolled announcements she is nearing climax.

Her moans are joined by those of another, pleasured female groans emanating from the murky waters of the bog, its waters swirling.

The hippie girl, lost in her own trip, hears the other moans, opens her eyes but only sees her hippie guy standing before her. His cock, erect and leaking.

He is silent. His arms at his side, his hands clenched, his face turned upward, his eyes closed, his pleasure obvious. The skin on his hard cock rolling back and forth, his slit leaking. His body trembles with each invisible stroke.

She smiles knowing her guy feels what she is feeling. She hears his whimpers and knows. She lets herself go over the edge.

The bog waters churn violently as the hippie couple, alone yet together, yield to climaxes so strong, so outta this world.
 
The hippie couple rested together under the tree, mellowed and silent. Their tree and others swayed in the gusting wind, leaves in unison prompting sounds of a far away concert.

She was cradled between his legs, her back resting against his chest, her head on his shoulder. She was humming softly, pulling the petals off a wildflower, a few of the white beauties woven through her headband.

His hands were busy holding her breasts, one of his favorite things to do in the moments after they’ve made love. The fullness in his hands, so soft except for the buds he played with, rolling them in his fingers, prompting her body to squirm against his, exciting his sex with each shudder.

His cock, pressed against the length of her crack, nearly snug in a warm blanket, was massaged by each wiggle of her ass.

She moaned as his fingers worked their magic, hypnotized by the pleasure and mesmerized by the bog, each sand particle seemingly sparkling in the sun.

They loved the bog. They would get high and see faces of beautiful people, but were drawn to one in particular. Her eyes were the color of the sea, her complexion light, her hair the color of chestnuts, each strand a different shade in the sunlight. Her lips full and rosy.

Her face so kind yet so sad. She rarely smiled. Just watched, observing them. Their eyes would connect. The hippie couple would watch her watching them.

The hippie girl particularly felt a connection and sometimes would cry as she and the beautiful bog woman connected in silence. The hippie guy was taken in by her beauty mostly and his cock would tremble and twitch when her attention turned to him.

The hippie couple couldn’t think of a time when after seeing the beautiful woman that they didn't make love. Their passion more intense, their orgasms almost too strong.

Whether it was the weed or the rustling of the tree, when they were making love, their bodies uniting as one, they would hear the bog breathing heavy moans, much like their own.
 
Hippie guy tucks away the joint and looks at his girl and smiles, pulling her in closer. Her hair, still damp from a fresh shampoo, smells of herbal essence, her skin of strawberries. He hugs her, kisses her full lips, looks into her eyes and whispers, I love you darlin’. You are forever my girl.

The shade tree, protecting them from the sun, offers a welcome coolness to the day’s heat. They had stripped off their clothes and were leaning on each other, sitting on top a few blankets cushioning the hard ground. The transistor radio softly plays the staticky sounds of Humble Pie.

He lowers his head and kisses each of her breasts, centering on the nipples. She moans as he sucks her rosy tips, burying his face in her soft globes.

He slides down farther. She leans against the tree and spreads her legs, inviting him to feast. He kisses her golden furry mound, and trails to her sex where he slowly and passionately kisses her wetness, targeting her clitoris tenderly with his lips, then greedily sucks. His raises his face, awash with her juices, cups her face with his hands and kisses her passionately sharing her own taste on her lips.

He pulls away from his girl, and hands her the joint. She lights it, takes a hit and looks at him. She smiles and nods.

Go on goofball, she says, she’s waiting for you.
 
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He follows his girl’s gaze to the clover meadow more than a stone’s throw from where they sit.

Eddie, a long-haired hippie freak, sits cross-legged on the ground strumming a CSN&Y tune on his six-string. His sandy hair brushes the tops of his shoulders, a scant beard shadows his jawline. He’s humming as he plays, sometimes stringing together a few lyrics.

Dancing naked in front of him, her arms in the air, her hips swaying, is a cute dark-haired girl with a chubby belly, thick waist and plump tits, her nipples prominent when not erect. Junie is only wearing a jeweled belt around her waist and several cords with pendants around her neck. She is barefoot as is her companion on the guitar.

She opens her eyes and meets the gaze of hippie guy as he approaches. She smiles, looks beyond him at the hippie girl back by the tree. The girls exchange grins and flash each other the thumb’s up.

Junie keeps dancing and starts playing with her tits, fingering her nipples. Hippie guy grins, mesmerized, watching them grow and harden. The girl tugs on them, pulling her nipples outward and letting them spring back. She massages her plump tits, squeezing their fullness, teasing him.

She says you can suck ‘em, Junie says. Your girl wants you to.

Hippie guy knows it’s true. His girl knows he loves suckling, especially long and thick nipples. She started talking to the girl and her guitar guy at the music festival. They all began hanging out, smoking weed, listening to jams and now they are friends. About to become more than just friends.

Hippie guy puts his hands on both sides of Junie's hips and guides her to the ground. He touches her chin and looks into her eyes before he lowers his lips, taking her left fleshy nipple, the size of his pinkie finger tip, into his mouth.
 
Hippie girl looks out onto the bog noticing a ripple in the water prompted by a fallen leaf. She watches until the water is still again.

Eddie’s music from his six-string catches her attention and she looks over. He’s lost in his own world, consumed by weed and Neil Young. Nearby, Junie is on her back, moaning, her hand rubbing her pussy as her nipples are being heartily sucked. She raises her knees and lets them fall to the sides, opening up her pussy even more. Hippie girl watches, her eyes drawn to her guy’s rigid cock, and feels her own sex stir. She pulls her dress aside and begins to rub her clitoris, immediately feeling pleasure.

Her eyes heavy, her moans audible, she stares at the bog and sees the beautiful woman appear. The woman is watching, their eyes connect. Hippie girl feels a light touch caress her face. She closes her eyes, hoping to feel glances elsewhere. She feels a light pressure over the fabric on her breast and nipple, enough to make her pussy twitch, then the sensation is gone. Her beautiful lady is gone, vanished.

Hippie girl smells her own intoxicating sex on her finger. She tastes it then jumps up and looks toward the tree and finds her carving, L + A, on the trunk. She kisses it and skips toward her suckling guy and masturbating friend, whose moans are quite loud, and plops next to Eddie, resting her head on his shoulder. He looks at the ginger, smiles and starts playing Cinnamon Girl.

Hippie girl starts playing with her clit, her head still nuzzled against Eddie, and watches her guy suck and lick Junie’s bright pink nipples, a perfect match to her pink pussy, which Junie is keeping busy with her fingers.

Hippie girl smiles knowing soon her guy’s hard cock will be inside her. But not before she tends to Eddie.
 
Hippie girl, fingering herself, raises her head from his shoulder and kisses Eddie’s scruffy jaw. Eddie turns to his gal friend, his dark eyes so gentle, and sings, I pulled my harpoon out of my dirty red bandanna, I was playin' soft while Bobby sang the blues, yeah.

He stops, smiles and sets his guitar aside revealing a boner soaking wet with his juice. Hippie girl blushes and smiles, reaches for his hand and directs it to her nipple, visible just enough through the thin material of her shift.

She touches his cock, circling the head, the ridge, his underside, then rubbing her finger in his precum, focusing on his slit. She looks into his eyes and slowly and deliberately sucks his juice from her fingers.

As Eddie starts moaning, they are startled by the loud shouts of Junie. Junie is crying out in ecstasy, her body writhing, her hips bucking, her fingers greedily rubbing her clit. Junie is cumming.

Hippie guy pulls his suckling mouth from her nipples, and starts stroking fast his cock, watching Junie’s pretty face as she cums. Her nipples, so pink, so thick and long, glisten in the sun, so wet from Hippie guy’s mouth.

Hippie girl, her pussy on fire and feeling nearly every bit of Junie’s pleasure, starts stroking Eddie faster, keeping pace with her guy. Eddie’s hand is in Hippie girl’s lap, her dress around her waist, his palm blanketing her furry golden mound, his fingers strumming her sex like he does his six-string.

A chorus of moans rises toward the heavens. Nature ceases its sounds, giving way to carnal groans of mortal pleasure. The bog begins to stir, sending ripples toward the shore. Sunshine dances off the iridescent underside of a haliotis shell at the shore, sending bursts of brilliant flashes into the air.

The shade tree rustles in the sudden breeze, sending fistfuls of leaves into the air, and landing near the frenzied four.

Junie is enjoying the immediate aftermath of her orgasm. She opens her eyes, looks at the trio, all in various stages journeys to orgasm. She jumps up and catches one of the falling leaves.

Hippie girl, distracted by the brilliant flashes of light coming from the bog, sees her friend catch the leaf. She springs to her feet, taps Eddie and Hippie guy on the shoulder and says, follow me.

She grabs a leaf out of the air and gathers the hem of her blue dress, pulls it over her head and tosses it as she skips away, her breasts bobbing. Junie following, with Eddie and Hippie guy not too far behind.

They are headed toward the shade tree, its canopy now still, having completed its mission.
 
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Hippie girl gets to the tree first, presses her naked body against the smooth bark, and wraps her arms around the trunk. Junie, right behind, presses her body against the other side, and stretches her arms hoping to touch Hippie girl’s but falls short.

Hippie guy and Eddie rummage through a pile of clothes looking for a joint, find it and hear the girls giggling. They both look to see Junie on her tiptoes rubbing one of her long nipples against a jagged spot on the trunk while Hippie girl is tweaking her own with her fingers.

The guys look at each other, grin and light up the joint. They join the girls and start rubbing their cocks against their pussies from behind, passing them the joint.

A cloud passes over the sun sending a slight chill over mossy grove, causing the hippie couple to shiver.

Hippie guy pulls Hippie girl down to the ground, kissing her neck, then settling on her mouth. His back against the tree, he guides her around so her back is against his chest and her ass between his outstretched legs. He wraps his arms around her and holds her breasts, juggling them, flicking her nipples. Pleasured, she leans back, her head on his shoulder and feels his hard rod pressing against the small of her back.

She watches as Junie, stoned, plops to the ground and falls back, her legs spilling open revealing her hairy mound and pink pussy. Junie twirls her pussy hair, wrapping it around her finger as she swirls.

The bog gurgles and a pair of ducks takes flight.

Eddie crawls over to the hippie couple and sits in front of Hippie girl, his boner bare and prominent. He holds it at the base, shakes it and starts stroking, a full grin on his face.

Hippie guy moves his hands from his girl’s tits, taking turns caressing his girl’s tummy and pussy. You make me feel so good, Hippie girl whispers, turning toward her guy. I love you, baby, he says. Go ahead, he adds, winking, it’s OK. Eddie’s a cool dude,

With her guy’s fingers in her hole, Hippie girl reaches for Eddie’s cock, taking it into her hand and starts massaging. Eddie groans, leans back, and braces himself. Hippie girl traces a visible vein in his cock, follows it up to the head and taps the ridge slowly, then the slit, fucking it a bit with the tip of her finger.

Her hands work over Eddie’s erect cock as his groans become louder. Hippie girl begins to moan as her guy fingers her clitoris, bringing her close to orgasm. Wanting that for himself, he stops tweaking her clit and begins to fumble with her breasts, kissing the back of her neck. His cock is solidly pressing against her ass.

A breeze rushes over the trio and the tree canopy stirs. The bog pulses with the faint sound of a woman’s sweet melodic song.

Eddie is about to explode as his cock is teased with a hundred hands. His grunts sound thunderous as he cums, his cream shooting out his slit, landing in splotches just off the blanket.

Spent, Eddie passes out, his cock still twitching. Junie is asleep, her hand still in her furry mound.

Hippie guy pulls his girl up and settles her onto his hard cock, about to give her the ride of her life.
 
Excellent!

Love this

Sweet_Lara said:
Hippie girl gets to the tree first, presses her naked body against the smooth bark, and wraps her arms around the trunk. Junie, right behind, presses her body against the other side, and stretches her arms hoping to touch Hippie girl’s but falls short.

Hippie guy and Eddie rummage through a pile of clothes looking for a joint, find it and hear the girls giggling. They both look to see Junie on her tiptoes rubbing one of her long nipples against a jagged spot on the trunk while Hippie girl is tweaking her own with her fingers.

The guys look at each other, grin and light up the joint. They join the girls and start rubbing their cocks against their pussies from behind, passing them the joint.

A cloud passes over the sun sending a slight chill over mossy grove, causing the hippie couple to shiver.

Hippie guy pulls Hippie girl down to the ground, kissing her neck, then settling on her mouth. His back against the tree, he guides her around so her back is against his chest and her ass between his outstretched legs. He wraps his arms around her and holds her breasts, juggling them, flicking her nipples. Pleasured, she leans back, her head on his shoulder and feels his hard rod pressing against the small of her back.

She watches as Junie, stoned, plops to the ground and falls back, her legs spilling open revealing her hairy mound and pink pussy. Junie twirls her pussy hair, wrapping it around her finger as she swirls.

The bog gurgles and a pair of ducks takes flight.

Eddie crawls over to the hippie couple and sits in front of Hippie girl, his boner bare and prominent. He holds it at the base, shakes it and starts stroking, a full grin on his face.

Hippie guy moves his hands from his girl’s tits, taking turns caressing his girl’s tummy and pussy. You make me feel so good, Hippie girl whispers, turning toward her guy. I love you, baby, he says. Go ahead, he adds, winking, it’s OK. Eddie’s a cool dude,

With her guy’s fingers in her hole, Hippie girl reaches for Eddie’s cock, taking it into her hand and starts massaging. Eddie groans, leans back, and braces himself. Hippie girl traces a visible vein in his cock, follows it up to the head and taps the ridge slowly, then the slit, fucking it a bit with the tip of her finger.

Her hands work over Eddie’s erect cock as his groans become louder. Hippie girl begins to moan as her guy fingers her clitoris, bringing her close to orgasm. Wanting that for himself, he stops tweaking her clit and begins to fumble with her breasts, kissing the back of her neck. His cock is solidly pressing against her ass.

A breeze rushes over the trio and the tree canopy stirs. The bog pulses with the faint sound of a woman’s sweet melodic song.

Eddie is about to explode as his cock is teased with a hundred hands. His grunts sound thunderous as he cums, his cream shooting out his slit, landing in splotches just off the blanket.

Spent, Eddie passes out, his cock still twitching. Junie is asleep, her hand still in her furry mound.

Hippie guy pulls his girl up and settles her onto his hard cock, about to give her the ride of her life.
Click to expand...
 
Hippie guy holds Hippie girl’s hips as his cock bulldozes her pussy in a rhythmic motion matching the crazily swirling waters of the bog.

He rests upright against the smooth trunk of tree, just under the L+A his gal carved into its soft wood weeks ago. She, facing away from him, looks toward the bog, mesmerized in part by the churning waters and the faint melodic song of a woman.

She shudders, her moans emphasize each bounce of her body, guided by his hands, as it comes down forcibly onto his groin, his rod filling her fully.

The audible slap of her flesh against his echoes across the bog, its waters in constant chaos overturning on itself.

Her cries, her pleasure heightening, become more desperate as he wraps his arms around her, and opens her juicy pussy wider to the delight of an imaginary audience. She reaches down, starts fingering her clit, pressing on its side engaging her g-spot.

Her moaning escalates as his cock steadily pumps into her, his grunts becoming more urgent, about to release his seed into his beloved Hippie girl.

I’m cumming, baby, I’m cumming, his girl announces as he feels her pussy contract in spasms around his rigid cock. Uncontrolled sounds are uttered with each spasm that overtakes her arching body, sending her guy over the edge with his orgasm. Squirts of thick cum shoot inside her, filling her pussy.

His cum mixed with her pussy juice spills from and onto his cock, trickling down his ass crack to his hole. She gathers it with her finger and sucks it and offers it to him. He slurps it, winks and grabs her and pulls her down onto him.

They kiss madly. They hug madly. They hold onto each other and lay content, hearing the wildlife begin to make its sounds again. They are still and time passes slowly at mossy grove.

Kissing her softly, Hippie guy guides his gal to her feet and they embrace, her breasts pressed tightly against his chest. Her pussy forward against his groin, her arms wrapped around his torso, his on her hips. They kiss deeply.

They pull apart, gaze into each other’s eyes and smile. He says, I love you and cherish you, and we’ll forever be Us. She’s heard him say those words before and doesn’t doubt them. She wipes away a tear, holds her finger against his lip and whispers, I'll be right back.

He watches her dig around in her cloth bag and pull out a silver key. She holds it up to him, he takes it and begins to carve into the tree as she leans into his back, her arms wrapped around his waist, her breasts pressed into his bare flesh.

Finished, they back away, their arms locked around each other, and look at their handiwork.

L + A = Us. It is surrounded with a heart.

They each feel a hand on their shoulder. Startled, they turn to see their beautiful lady from the bog behind them, her face lit by sunshine, her eyes the color of soft blue sea glass. Her mouth turned up in a smile.

A breeze picks up and a leaf falls. They both reach for the leaf. They look back and their beautiful lady is gone.
 
Laura stood at the window, and looked out toward the bog, just beyond the stand of woods.

Laura heard the siren's mesmerizing song carried on the gentle nighttime breeze, a lullaby sending creation to slumber. There were no other sounds; the chorus of frogs hushed, the hoot owl silenced.

https://youtu.be/b0slQ1-2emQ

A full moon cast shadows of couples making love on the landscape. The air breathed lust.

Laura had been long drawn to the siren's song, introduced to her by Dereck, her beloved.

Laura instinctively touched her left breast, sweeping over the erect nipple with each pass.

She stepped away from the window, looked at Dereck sleeping peacefully, and hesitated.

Closing her eyes and sighing, she put on her shift and turned toward the door.

Her lover was waiting.

He would make love to her.
 
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