Mature woman

The erotic story of a mature woman
Tied up against a tree

It was a beautiful Sunday in September. The sun was shining, there were no clouds to dim its light, the birds were chirping… a real Indian summer, as in the Joe Dassin song. We had decided to treat ourselves to a romantic picnic in the woods not far from our house. A small gingham-checked tablecloth, a wicker trunk, a bottle of good wine, a few crudités and a square of cheese were all that awaited us. We set off hand in hand, one against the other, to find our own little corner of paradise for the evening, just for us, a few yards off the path, out of sight of any strolling eyes. We settled down on a little patch of moss and still-green grass and enjoyed an aperitif.

It was a moment filled with sweetness, as we chatted, exchanged smiles and laughed, it was a moment of complicity as my husband and I like to share.

As I nibbled on the last of the radishes for dessert, I got up and walked over to a tree, a big one, an oak I think because I thought it was magnificent. Its trunk was wide, its bark looked like an old crust making pretty patterns, and, best of all, I thought I’d spotted a squirrel on the top of one of its branches.

It wasn’t until I got very close to the big oak that I felt my husband’s presence behind me. I hadn’t turned around, hadn’t even heard his footsteps, and barely had time to turn my head and ask him why he was behind me before I realized what was going to happen. He passed a rope around me without my having the time to struggle, tightening my arms along my body, I let out a little scream quickly stifled by his hand glued over my mouth. “Not a word”, he said, “not a scream, nothing”. He then pinned me against the tree, facing him, and took care to go around the tree twice in order to tie me up, without my arms or legs being able to move. Shivers came over me, my breath quickened, I wasn’t allowed to speak, he’d just forbidden me to, and yet I wanted to ask him what he intended to do with me.

But no matter, I hardly opened my mouth before he put his hand on it again. “If you disobey my orders, you’ll be punished and I’ll be very strict,” he whispered. I knew he was capable of being cruel to me, we’d already had a few submission sessions at home and when I wasn’t docile, he knew how to set me straight, in his own way, which I gladly accepted because it was a game between us. So I kept quiet, letting him possess my body as he saw fit. He came up to my forehead, planted a kiss, then another on my mouth, took a step back, grabbed the collar of my blouse and pulled violently from side to side. The buttons flew off, and I found myself in my bra, there in front of him, at his disposal.

He pulled a knife from his pocket and cut the straps of my bra, ripping it off with the same force as my little top. I found myself topless, in the middle of the woods, under the gaze of the birds that continued to chirp, as if nothing had happened. My heartbeat accelerated. My breath was getting harder and harder, I was biting my lower lip, starting to get excited by what I was experiencing.

He took my breasts in his hands and kissed them, running his tongue over my nipples, already swollen with pleasure. His tongue went back and forth endlessly, then I felt his teeth, a first bite on the tip of my breasts, then a second, stronger, I winced to stifle a cry, he threw himself on my other breast to do again what he’d just done.
Then he stepped back again, looked me in the eye, kissed my forehead again and savagely pulled down my skirt, dragging my panties down to my ankles. I was now totally naked, totally at his mercy, totally forced to his desires.

Delicately, he began to kiss my body, depositing his tongue and lips on my neck, shoulders, breasts, stomach, thighs, breasts again, then down to my pubic bone, placing a long kiss on it. He stood up and I saw his hand approach my sex, two fingers pointing forward. He parted my moist lips to slide his fingers into my intimacy. My body began to tremble as I felt myself being penetrated. His fingertips curled into my vagina, grazing my G-spot.

He knew where it was, the rascal, he knew that by caressing it, he was going to take me high, very high, he knew that I was in danger of escaping, of losing myself, of abandoning myself. Gently but firmly, he began to play with his fingers inside me, I bit my lips even harder, I could hardly swallow my saliva, I breathed harder and harder, I knew I wasn’t allowed to let out even a little cry. I could feel the pleasure rising, he didn’t stop, on the contrary, the more I moaned discreetly, the more he accelerated his movements.

My orgasm was near, I could feel it coming, I closed my eyes, my body tensed, I trembled at the same time, all over, and I felt the pleasure invade me, everything jostled inside me, as if I were drunk, drunk with pleasure, drunk with well-being, intoxicated by the total ecstasy that my man, my husband, my lover, my master and my accomplice had just offered me.

My body relaxed, my heart raced, I was out of breath, I didn’t know where I was and anyway, I was somewhere else, I’d forgotten that I was naked, but I knew one thing: I felt good. My man gently withdrew his fingers, came towards me, smiled and placed one last kiss on my forehead. That’s when I knew where I was: I was in seventh heaven, with the angels…