Dirty Little Secret

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Watching a young couple in the woods isn't without perils.
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Gideon loosened his royal blue tie and slipped off his navy blue jacket before stooping to undo the laces of his polished black Oxfords. He carefully folded the jacket and slipped it into the Waitrose carrier bag he'd pulled from his pocket, slipped off his shoes, and safely stowed them all in the hollow at the foot of the tree trunk. He looked around him and, confident no one could see, heaved himself up onto the lowest sturdy bough of the ancient oak. Once safely astride the limb he clutched the trunk for support, stood, and then climbed with the practised ease of a man who had performed the task many times before. Two, three, four spurs of solid English hardwood lay below him as he made his way up the tree towards his goal, the Y-shaped junction of branches that he now settled into. From this secure, comfortable point, safely out of the sight of anyone on the leafy ground, he commanded a fine view of several sites of interest across the copse below.

After an interminable wait it seemed summer was finally in the air and Gideon breathed deeply through his rather piggish, snout-like nose, inhaling the rich, verdant scent of a woodland in full leaf. Content in his privileged position Gideon silenced the ringers on his iPhones, determined to make the most of this opportunity to relax and indulge himself for a few minutes before his Special Branch detective became concerned by his absence and came to look for him. Gideon smiled as he thought about Barry, the close protection officer he had been assigned after that awkward business with Julian. Barry had become something akin to a friend over the past few months – as close a relationship as was ever likely between a man of Gideon's standing and one of Barry's, of course – and he understood and indulged his boss's need for the odd half-hour away from the scrutiny that befell a man in such a high-profile position. It had become something of a routine now, whenever Gideon was in his Cheshire home, and Barry knew that allowing Gideon a few minutes to himself in the secluded woodland of the country park would pay dividends down the line.

Gideon scanned the ground below, his small eyes darting from one location to another, expertly dismissing tricks of the dappled light and effects of the wind, determined not to miss anything that might be of interest. Having seen nothing of interest with the naked eye he took from his trouser pocket the miniature binoculars he always carried and carefully scanned the areas again. He loved this time of year and the safety of the lush, deep green of the woods, the warmth of the sun on his skin, the songs of the woodland birds. Most of all, though, he loved the playfulness of his quarry, their inhibitions diluted by the sunshine and the heat, the quarry whose arrival he now awaited with the alert patience of a skilled stalker.

He felt confident he would not have too long to wait. There had been some potential candidates as he approached his hide. He had noticed a presumably well-established pair frolicking in the long grass away to the west of the copse but, more promisingly, closer by, another, younger pair had shown distinctive courtship signs indicating a mating might be imminent. Gideon licked his lips in anticipation and continued his appraisal of the potential areas his experience told him would be most likely used.

Just as he was beginning to lose hope, the younger pair he had identified earlier burst through the shrubs into the smallest clearing closest to his tree, the female leading her mate. Gideon held his breath involuntarily, then relaxed and exhaled as he reminded himself he was twenty feet up and most unlikely to be spotted, let alone heard breathing. Every time he observed a pair like this he felt that frisson of excitement at watching, unseen, a young pair going through their mating procedure. Whether they consummated the ritual or not, he could still enjoy the sight of two healthy specimens engaging in nature's work. If they did consummate, however, he knew the sight would stay with him forever, occupying his mind's eye whilst he half listened to the ridiculous arguments from the ill-bred opposition across the way. He would honk and guffaw, jeer and point, of course, but when lost in these reveries it was his old dining club pals who would lead the humiliations, provide the withering put-downs, cough out the indignant splutterings, with Gideon taking his cues from the others rather than leading the charge as he did when not indulging himself in his portfolio of memories.

At this close range Gideon didn't need his binoculars so he carefully hung them around his neck and quietly moved to the place on his branch he knew afforded him the best view of the particular spot chosen by the young paramours beneath him. The female seemed particularly eager to stake a claim to her mate and Gideon grinned at the thought of what he felt sure he was about to witness.

Standing, she kissed her partner passionately, running one hand through his spiked brown hair and the other down his football shirt-clad, muscular back, onto his toned buttocks covered by a pair of dark-coloured shorts. He responded with an equally passionate kiss, his own hands running up and down the back of her tight-fitting yellow top, onto the flimsy-looking white material of a short skirt, and up into her long, straight blonde hair.

As they kissed they explored one another's bodies further. The young man - Gideon guessed from what he could see that he was about twenty - had sidled one hand up onto his girlfriend's breast and was squeezing it through her top. His other hand was now under her skirt, fondling her bottom, provoking murmurs of pleasure as they kissed. The couple briefly separated to take a breath and changed position, giving Gideon a better view of the girl's features. Her hair was parted to one side, covering much of her forehead but she looked pretty, if a little obviously so, and a year or two younger, by Gideon's reckoning.

Whether it was the girl's rampant desire or a result of her partner's touches, she was certainly taking the lead in their amorous activities. One hand snaked between them and began to rub the man's groin through his shorts. Gideon could clearly see a substantial bulge underneath her fingers and swallowed hard. The man groaned audibly, inciting a grin on his partner's face. He responded by slipping his hand under the material of her top and groping her breasts. This had a similar effect on the girl who moaned gently as his, presumably rough and calloused, skin came into contact with her sensitive nipples.

It was difficult for Gideon to hear what was being said, such was their ardour but words drifted up through the foliage.

"No, I can't take it off, what if someone comes?"

"No one's gonna come, and anyway who gives a shit if they do? They'll just get to see your sexy tits."

Grinning, the girl slapped her partner playfully.

Gideon winced slightly at the coarse, Northern accents of the objects of his voyeurism but pushed that thought to the back of his mind. Of course they were going to be of a lower social status than him. Any young lovers from his stratum wouldn't have to resort to using a public space such as this for their couplings. Thank God for the shamelessness of the working classes, he thought.

She looked around to check no one was watching then said, "Here, I'll pull it up but I'm not taking it off."

Gideon thought he detected a Merseyside intonation but couldn't be sure. Northern was as sure as he could be, even after twelve years.

As the girl lifted the tight, elasticated material above her breasts, revealing the pert, tanned flesh and hard, pinkish nipples to her partner - and the watcher above - Gideon felt his own passion begin to rise.

The man looked appreciatively at her chest, licked his lips, then, using both hands, roughly groped her young tits, rubbing them hard, pinching the nipples between thumb and forefinger before lowering his head to suck each breast in turn. Above them in the tree, Gideon was transfixed. The girl's eyes closed and her head fell back as the sensations from her breasts flooded her lithe body. The man suckled at one tit, squeezing the other firmly.

"Ow, watch out, Jay. Your hands are rough as!"

"Sorry, babes," the man responded, kissing the affronted breast more tenderly.

Jay, Gideon mused. Jason? Jack? Jordan? Names used to be such an easy identifier of class and status, now people seemed to call their offspring anything at all. He wondered what the girl might be called. He had once entered into conversation with a local and discovered she was naming her daughter Brook. "After Brook Shields?" he had inquired, pleased to be able to engage at his constituent's level. "Oh no," came the reply. "Brook side." Despite the potential pitfalls learning their names somehow drew him closer to the action, he always felt.

Gideon's contemplations were cut short by an upping of the ante as the girl quickly pulled down Jay's shorts, freeing his hard erection.

"Gimme that," the girl said greedily, as she gripped the thick shaft tight in her right hand and began to pump it up and down, a look of determination on her face, her firm tits even jiggling slightly in sympathy with the vigorous movement of her arm.

"Fookin' 'ell, Ames, that feels mint," Jay grunted.

So the brazen blonde whose breasts Gideon was ogling as she masturbated Jay's erection was, he deduced, Amy. Jay and Ames; the future of this great nation lay in their hands.

Jay groaned in pleasure as Amy crouched to take his thick penis into her mouth. He lifted his red shirt over his head, revealing his muscular torso and arms. It was when he saw the masculine physique, the tattoos, the hairless groin and long, throbbing cock that Gideon felt a wave of anxiety – and inadequacy. If for any reason Jay were to look up and see the man in the tree above he would surely use his clear physical advantage to mete out a form of brutal retribution for the crime of voyeurism. But he wasn't going to look up, Gideon reassured himself. No one ever did. Amy slurped eagerly on her boyfriend's erection, her hooped earrings swinging as her head bobbed back and forth, her lips tightly sealed around the swollen head of his glans as her manicured fingers pressed against his smooth buttocks.

Jay's cock plopped wetly from her mouth and Amy stood. The couple kissed again as her hand continued to stimulate him. With one hand he again investigated her breasts, the other snuck under the front of her skirt and made its way north.

"Mmm, you dirty little tart," Jay hissed lustfully. "You was planning this wasn't you?"

Amy giggled in response. "Well, I knew they wasn't gonna stay on long anyway so I just left 'em at 'ome".

"I fookin' love it."

So did Gideon, whose delight at the romantic scene unfolding beneath him was now palpable. He silently unzipped his trousers and felt around inside for his own prize.

Jay's hand was now mimicking Amy's and, although hidden for now by her white skirt, Gideon sensed her young vulva moistening with the stimulations. A gentle mewling sound became apparent as Jay's fingers explored Amy's entrance and she ran her free hand over his defined pectoral and abdominal muscles as he pleasured her with his thick fingers.

"You're so fookin' wet babes."

"I've been wet since I took my knickers off. I love goin' commando. Never know when I might get the chance for some action." As she spoke a wicked look flashed across her face. Grinning back at her Jay clearly took this as an invitation and, Gideon suspected, slipped another finger inside, taking Amy's breath away.

"Oh God, Jay," she whispered, obviously deeply pleasured. "That feels so fookin' good." Gideon admired her dedication to her partner's pleasure. Despite the fingering she was receiving she didn't let up for a second her attentions on Jay's long, smooth erection; her hand still wrapped around the thick shaft as she wanked him. In the branches above, Gideon could hear the moist sound of rapidly moving hand on lubricated skin as Amy changed her grip and continued her stimulations.

"You gonna finish us off like this or do you want fookin'?" Jay asked.

Amy laughed, then squealed as Jay's fingers probed her more deeply.

"I'm not comin' 'ere just to wank you off," she giggled. "I'm gagging."

"Right well you better let go then cos I'm gonna blow if you're not careful."

Gideon took heart from the fact that, as athletic and powerful looking as he was, Jay's powers of self-control were less impressive. Mind you, Gideon thought, he could hardly blame the young man considering the enthusiasm with which Amy had taken to her task. For his own part, Gideon was gently rubbing himself inside his trousers with the tips of his first two fingers and thumb. He could only dream of being sufficiently endowed to warrant a fist being wrapped around his manhood, as opposed to fingertips. Sighing wistfully, he slowed his own pace and waited for the next act to commence.

Amy had let go of Jay's throbbing cock to give him a chance to cool down. As they kissed his hand was still up her skirt – Amy's staying power more impressive than her partner's. She pulled her mouth away from his.

"Right, come on then. You lie down and I'll ride ya."

"No way, I'll get leaves up me bum."

"Well I'm not lying down, me skirt'll get ruined."

They both looked around for a solution. In Gideon's mind the possibilities were endless but he knew they must find their own way. People in his position had to let others find their own path. He hoped whatever decision they came to would involve the removal of Amy's skirt but as far as having a direct impact on their choices he was impotent.

It seemed as though Amy was the brains within this partnership as she took the lead and informed Jay how they were to proceed.

"Let's try me bent over," she suggested, lifting her skirt around her waist then turning round to face the nearby tree. Although it was fleeting, this gave Gideon a glimpse of her vulva. As was the norm these days, it seemed, she was utterly hairless and tanned all over. A word was tattooed at the base of her back but try as he might, Gideon couldn't make out what it was. Tattoos on women always reminded him of his boss's wife. She, of course, wasn't a nubile blonde, and the only tattoo of which he was aware was in a somewhat less intimate place, but her breeding was substantially higher. The thought of such a combination made him reach for his binoculars so as he could decipher the blue ink. As he pulled the binoculars into position he bashed them on a branch, making a dull thud. He froze.

"Did you 'ear that?" Amy asked furtively, pulling her skirt back down and looking nervously around.

"Nah, didn't hear anythin'," Jay assured her, without looking anywhere but at Amy. "So am I coming inside you or what?"

Safely able to breathe once again Gideon grimaced at the crudeness of Jay's question but had to admire his direct approach. A little more focus and an eye on the prize wouldn't go amiss amongst Jay and Amy's peers, he felt.

"Yeah go on, I'll get the morning-after pill. Just fookin' shag us will ya?!"

Gideon shuddered inwardly. Did she give so much as a thought to where her morning-after pill would could from? Of course not; contraceptives, like universal benefits grew on trees as far as her ilk was concerned. Still, at least she wasn't planning on reproducing just yet.

Amy's lust superseded her concerns of being seen and she lifted her skirt, again revealing her small, firm, tanned bottom and bent over, bracing herself against the tree with her other hand. She looked back over her shoulder at Jay and placed her hand on her buttock, thereby opening her labia. Even from several feet up and not daring to go for his binoculars again Gideon could clearly see the deep pink of her young, moist vagina. His top lip was sweaty. He hoped the couple would work quickly. He'd been away too long already and Barry would soon become concerned by Gideon's extended absence.

Jay positioned himself behind Amy and, bending his knees to provide a better angle, pressed his big, purple head against Amy's waiting hole. With a surprising regard for her comfort, Gideon thought, Jay slowly slipped inside, giving her time to get used to the huge object now entering her petite body. Even Jay's large fingers couldn't possibly have prepared Amy for the girth of Jay's rod. He slid an inch or two of his long, thick cock into Amy's pussy, paused, then began to thrust. Immediately Amy's eyes closed and she began to pant.

"Fuck, yes," she gasped as Jay slid further and further inside with every stroke. "God your cock feels good."

"You're so fookin' tight babes," Jay said as his muscular buttocks increased the pace of his thrusts.

In the tree above Gideon rubbed himself harder, his eyes fixed on Jay's hard cock deeply penetrating Amy's hairless young cunt.

Amy gripped the tree and gritted her teeth. "Harder babes, fuck me harder," she gasped.

Jay held her slim hips and did as he was told.

It was a long time since Gideon had had such words spoken to him. If he was entirely honest, he'd never had that exact phrase directed towards him. His wife assured him size wasn't important but he knew she was only trying to make him feel better. Ever since those humiliating Wednesday afternoons after rugby games at school he knew he was never going to be the renowned swordsman but he did his best to suppress those thoughts as he stimulated himself and watched Jay's huge cock pound in and out of Amy's body. Each powerful stroke gave Gideon a perfect aerial view of the glistening wetness that oiled their coupling. No need for any artificial lubricants in this relationship.

Their tempo was fierce, Jay gripping Amy's narrow waist as she clung to the tree ahead of her. Both were breathing heavily, neither speaking, the most obvious sound that of flesh on flesh as their young, fit bodies collided at the base of every thrust. Gideon's wrist matched their cadence, hoping he could time his own climax with theirs'.

"Fookin' 'ell Ames, I'm gonna shoot," grunted Jay, one hand on the small of her back, the other now mauling her breasts.

"Mmmm, yes, come babes, come in me," Amy responded; her right hand now vigorously rubbing her clitoris.

Gideon's finger tips rubbed furiously, his penis tingling wildly as he masturbated. Below him the focus of his desires fucked each other hard. Jay thrust in and out, Amy pushed back to meet his every stroke. How she could manage to accommodate that monster was beyond Gideon's comprehension.

Jay's pelvis slapped rhythmically against Amy's pert buttocks. He began to grunt.

"Oh yes, I'm comin'. Fook yes."

Amy's hand was a blur between her legs. "Yes babes, yes," she shouted. "I'm comin' an' all!"

Between Gideon's fingertips his own orgasm began. As Jay pumped his thick, white seed into Amy's hot, wet cunt, Gideon's cock sputtered out the few drops of semen his inefficient loins always produced. He bit his lip to silence the high-pitched squeak he tended to make when climaxing and did his best to prolong the pleasure. On the leafy floor below, meanwhile, the young couple's orgasm seemed endless in comparison, Jay's taut backside still thrusting back and forth as he filled his lover's vagina.

Eventually even their ardour cooled and Jay withdrew his glistening, still diamond-hard tool. As he did a miniature flood of semen slipped from Amy onto the woodland floor. Jay stood panting, his cock bouncing as he breathed, whilst Amy remained propped against the tree, her free hand still gently teasing her pleasure centre.

"That were fookin' top," said Jay, between breaths. "You're horny as fook, love."

Amy stood herself upright and turned to face him. "You're not bad either," she said with a grin. "You don't think anyone heard us do ya?"

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