This wildflower meadow has been my happy place since I was a boy, chasing cowboys and Indians endlessly through the long grass and flowers. Woods surround the meadow on three sides, while the river defines the bottom edge. The towpath leads back to a small car park a few hundred yards away, frequented by picnickers in the daytime and lovers after dark.
After fifteen years of marriage, two children, career changes and all the trials of life I have found myself sitting under the trees watching the world drift past more often of late. My wife seemed to be growing more distant and isolated from me, and my place in the home was less important. Everything seemed to be falling slowly apart. A month ago, everything changed in this meadow; let me tell you how.
It was a gloriously warm, hazy day, with barely a breeze. The sun poured down like honey, and the riot of blooms stretched up for warmth as they gently swayed among the long grass. Bees and insects lazily buzzed and moved around, landing and flying, feasting on nectar and pollinating as they went. In the distance, I saw her leading a man along the towpath and then wading through the grasses before they dropped out of sight. I called out her name but she did not hear me.
She should not be here with a man. She should not be lying with him out of sight on a bed of crushed flowers. I wrestled with my conscience, trying to decide if I should confront her or pretend I had not seen them. I stood and scanned but could not see any sign of them the meadow appeared to be deserted and quiet. I waded quietly through the grasses and flowers, weaving to and fro, trying to find the area where she had disappeared.
I came upon their little nest quite suddenly. I saw bare legs wrapped around a man’s bare bottom, which was pumping quite fast. His frame covered her completely her arms clung to his neck. I called her name again, not sure what else to do; the reaction was sudden and surprising. He immediately pushed back onto his knees, rose to his feet and was already striding out and away as he fastened his trousers without a word or a look back.
She did not move. Her sundress was crumpled above her waist, and her perfect little breasts were exposed. Her pale legs were splayed apart, and I stared at her glistening pink opening, framed by soft pubes above. It made me think of a baby bird, its beak open and calling for food, wondering when it would next be fed. She lifted her face towards me and lay defiantly as if waiting for his return.
I knew I should turn away, be angry, and disappointed, but all I knew was that I wanted to feed that little bird that still glistened and seemed to wink at me. She did not move, and we did not speak; within moments, my shorts were around my ankles, and I fed my already bone-hard cock into her. I was surprised by how easily she swallowed me in, and how easily I had replaced him.
I could not bring myself to kiss her though she wrapped her legs and arms so tightly around me as she urged me on. She began to whimper and tremble while I ground against her pubic mound, ground against her clit and delayed my own pleasure. Her nails clawed my neck, and her legs flailed as she came, which drove me to flood her with my pent-up cum. We lay together, panting and sweating, before I rolled onto my back, staring at the blue sky.
She stood, and I marvelled at her taught figure and watched her slowly cover her tits as she pulled the shoulder straps of her dress back on. She retrieved her simple cotton knickers from the ground, pulled them up, and let her summer dress drop back down to regain her modesty. My cock, so recently nestled inside her, was now shrinking on my thigh. We parted with the only words we spoke to each other, the same words we have parted with every time we have met here in the meadow since.
“Love you, my darling.”
“Love you, Daddy.”
