Merlin Ch. 01

Rozz came out of the wood into the small clearing at the top of the hill. Instead of leaf mould under her feet it was grass, grass still slightly wet from the dew wetting her feet. More sensuous experience, the sun was hot on her skin and here she was alone, naked, a little pink elf with her long red hair, small breasts and patch of red curls. She raised her arms up high stretching herself as she stood on tiptoe. A first trickle of moisture ran right down the inside of her left thigh to her knee. Had she ever been so wet? She turned and gazed out over the wood towards the sea and the little village. The sea was a brilliant blue and so calm today. She could not really see any foam on the yellow beaches. Perhaps she would swim later. What was it like to swim naked?

On impulse she lay down, the sudden feel of still wet grass on her naked skin exciting. She stretched her arms high above her head on the grass and opened her thighs, wantonly wide, allowing the sun to pour down on what was now a very wet pool but it would take more than the heat of an English summer sun to evaporate all that liquid. She imagined herself lying here with some tall boy making love, pushed into the green grass by the pressure of his weight holding her down, penetrating her, his hard penis thrusting in and out, busy in her wetness.

But she did not touch herself. She thought about sex. Hard animal sex. A succession of boys taking her. A rut.

It was good lying there thinking of sex but nonetheless she stood and walked back into the soft light of the wood. It was good lying on the damp grass but it was exquisite to feel her wet thighs rubbing together, being conscious of her sex moving as she walked, of being a naked sexual female walking in the wood.

She came back to the old man. He was not looking up the hill at her but at the squirrels that were once again chasing each other round and round the tree. She walked past him and turned standing once more hands on hips, legs parted in front of him. A drop of liquid ran down the soft inside of her thighs. His eyes watched it. His hand reached out touching her knee at the point the drip had stopped. Slowly he slid it upwards, feeling the wetness on the inside of her thighs until it was once more between Rozz's thighs, she gasped at the touch, her knees going weak. A gentle touch at first, the lightest of strokings back and forth. He began to play with her, pulling her lips, swirling round with his fingers and pushing them up inside her, one, two three. Rozz knew how wet his hand must be, she knew too she was close to orgasm. She hardly thought of what she was permitting, what she was allowing, what the old man had chosen to do. All it needed was a little touch on her clitoris and, and that she knew would send her over. The movement of the old man's fingers slowed. She looked at his face; his bright green eyes were shining with amusement. He raised an eyebrow and the ball of his thumb touched her clitoris. Her mind exploded with electric pleasure, she was coming, hard and powerful, wave upon wave, her knees gave way and she dropped to the ground, the old man's hand still between her legs, her eyes now firmly closed, panting as the orgasm carried on. She passed out.

Sometime later she came to. Her eyes opened to see the two red squirrels watching her only about a foot away. Their little furry faces looked quite puzzled though this was a rather an anthropomorphic assumption. Rozz was laying on the forest floor her head on her little pile of clothes. She sat up sending the squirrels racing to climb a tree, and looked around. She was alone. She glanced down at her nakedness, the evidence of her recent sexual arousal clear in the wetness of her thighs. Where was the old man? She stood, stretching and heard a noise below her in the wood, the noise of voices. She had her shirt and jeans on in a trice; pants and bra stuffed in a pocket and by the time the people came into view she was sitting on the tree root tying up her shoelaces. A couple with young children in tow came up the path.

"Hello"

"Lovely morning, isn't it?"

Where was the old man?

She watched the children and their parents continue up the path. Where was the old man? Surely she hadn't imagined him? Why on earth had she let him... why had she stayed? It seemed a compulsion in her mind; a feeling right from waking that she should be naked and free; that this was right; all very odd.

Rozz walked back down the path, pausing to listen intently and then put her pants on as well. It was a lovely morning, she felt invigorated, refreshed, happy, somehow more real than before - but what a strange experience it had been.

Rozz was surprised by what he said and not sure how to answer. Here she was naked in a wood with an old man and he was suggesting she stayed naked because it felt good. It did though - it did feel good.