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The warm burn of the sun, hits your shoulders, on the little mud footpath, beside a field, separated by a fence in the English countryside. You stop to take a sip from the water bottle now slowly turning warm, as it was fresh from the fridge this morning, in anticipation for your feet hurting just after the third mile, in the autumn that has now come around.

The track lasted for 2 more miles, as you see a little crossing, where a bench was placed, along with the signpost detailing all the places in this little corner of the countryside you saw as your yearly retreat. A walk by yourself to let go of all the trips to the office, your company swiftly stopping working from home, that reset over the two years shows it’s reality. 

There is a little incline as you walk towards the bench, as the ground gets more stoney as they hurt your feet more than they would have an hour ago at the start of your walk. You take another sip of your water, a drip falls between your lip and the lid, falling onto one of the sequins of your blouse, you inconspicuously register this as you are focused on just getting to the bench. Faint memories of every passing moment, your first trip here seems like a lifetime ago, although not that long ago, you've never known true nostalgia, coming to the end of your youth, those butterflies so new.

You sit down on the bench and take a breather before you register your surroundings, the wooden gate you went through, behind you, the autumn smell of recently rained on grass and gravel, activated by the warmth of the sun, this is second to every experience you wished could last forever. Maybe it is by chance it is rarely a landscape, where today, there isn't anyone around. 

A few minutes passes and you decide to stay here for a while, ten to four in the afternoon and you know it will be 7pm before you sit down for dinner, as the sun sets. You can only forget so much in this place, the atmosphere putting you into a deeper lull as you realise this is what you've wanted all along, you don't want to leave.

The way the flowers just over the path sway in the distance, the vista and aura triggering a lack of awareness, a scene from high art but totally unlike you. You notice your own whirlwind of femininity, falling deeper into that state of mind only reserved for your private moments, a fit guy on social media, your toy deep in your sock drawer.

Your stomach drops as you feel your nipples starting to become erect, this is no time or place, what if a stranger passes by? You feel a hope that it will go away, but you want the experience to become real, even more. You sigh in repreive, you can do it discreetly, timidly placing your right hand on your lower abdomen, trying not to acknowledge the butterflies now creeping down to your lady parts, your hand pretending like this isn't the case.

Your yellow blouse, that ever so perfectly accentuated your curvy figure, stands in between your hand and your knickers, upon realising this, you mentally plan a quick way to take them off and stuff them in your bag, taking an extended break to look around, to make doubly sure no one is coming.

Raising your knees up, pulling your dress back and pulling your knickers down with army like precision, you shove them in your bag and sit back, doing another look around, the anxiety kicks in as you sit for a minute. You inch your right hand up your thigh, ready-ing your left hand to quickly return your dress to a decent state should anyone come around.

You feel something you've never felt before, your flower tingling with anticipation as you can faintly feel your fingers over your flower as they just pass the immediate inside of your thigh before your flower. The anxiety gradually becomes easier as you now have a hold on your flower, one finger going in as you intuitively go to massage your g-spot. 

Your breathing gets heavier, this will be easy as the amazing pleasure comes in like a waterfall, as softly as a cloud. Almost unaware of your surroundings, you arch your back, this is happening quickly and a moan feels almost as natural as the environment. 

You get closer to orgasm as the pleasure intensifies, you instinctively grab your breast, but with no grip at all, your nipple causing sparks as your palm hovers over it. As you recollect your awareness for one final time, you sink into one of the best orgasm's you've ever had, squirting on to the grass just before the pathway, you feel everything coming away from you as your endorphins mix perfectly with the clouds up above.

No one ever came around to see you getting dressed again, better finish the walk like nothing ever happned.    

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