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Emotion comes over you as the wind becomes a breeze, a comfort of a small chill lowers your tension in a thready yet lushious way, like chocolate melting on the tongue. Looking over the fields, the sun setting with a reflection that tears against the fences, you've only known such beauty when coming here. Many Septembers before this, you'd drop yourself into the serenity of the vista, a gateway into the only bliss you know.

A cold glass of cola infuses the calm with a hint of vanilla, this summer has brought you back to your inner feeling, a year of worry that petrified your imagined loss of being. Only the way today has fallen into you, an exact return of freedom and the butterflies it brings. Memories of TV programs of the summer fields, showing an almost alien carefree existence, for once you feel you've hit the end of the movie like world that has played out for many months.

Three in the afternoon, the height of the warmth of any day, you were always one to enjoy the sultry suggestion of the sun against the skin, a phantom of allure, only sometimes seducing you into sexual abandon. You relax more into the car seat, the left passenger door open for you to stretch your legs, a wisp of air pulling them apart ever so slowly and without awareness.

The warmth in the air blends in with the smell of the grass and lavender, reminding you of the summertime romance from a few years ago, a couple of incredibly satisfying nights in the sheets, a hanful of frolics out in the countryside. The olfactory pleasantry hits that one thing inside you, a key going into a lock, as you fall into a sudden inspiration.

An upbringing of allure creeps up down below, instantly but subtly the feeling of being the most horny you've ever been. You inhale one more time as the euphoria hits you and suggests you into giving in, a quick glance in both directions to make sure no ones around. Timidly unzipping your jeans as the decadence and dare make your stomach sink, not long before your nipples press against your top with your fingers sliding down past the border of your knickers to your dripping flower.

You press against both lips with both your longest fingers, the way to an orgasm becoming clearer as you begin to masturbate, your breasts begging for attention of which they surely get. The sun setting to soak you in its shine, the memories of your romance making your masturbation automatic, almost hurried as your play which leaves nothing unattended, you moan instinctively, a sound not meant for the area. You insert your fingers inside yourself, touching your well mastered g spot that brings you to the edge, the risk of anyone seeing you is drowned out but only half as intense as you now cumming and spoiling the seat with your squirt. As natural as anything else, you sit, living like all around you. 


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