“Whose stupid idea was this…?”
Cursing myself as I followed my feet around the familiar trails near my home. Trails I had run countless times before. Roots my legs instinctively know to leap. Branches my head knows to duck beneath before my eyes have even spied them. But today everything was a little…distracted.
I took a tumble after snagging my toe on the big gnarly root that usually made me chuckle smugly as I leapt over it, normally calling “not today” over my shoulder as I bound away. In an effort to tend my bloody knee I sat down on a boulder by the path, in an instant I was brought back to the reason for my distraction. And once more asked the question
“Whose stupid idea was this?”
The idea had been to put in my favourite plug. I’d had the devil in me this morning, and I needed to embrace the mischief. So I had chosen my weapon of choice, lubed my favourite opening and…. in that instant my need for a hidden piece of naughtiness turned the heat up and caused a flow of desire to begin it’s steady journey southwards between my swelling lips. But I had plans, and wriggling on the stair as I pulled on my running shoes I giggled to myself.
“This was such a good idea.”
It didn’t take long for the flood to cause me to wonder if I should have worn black capris rather than my colourful shorts. Each step caused the plug to bounce inside of me, the weighty thuds sending waves of pleasure from my apex through my entire body. I needed to touch myself, needed to plunge my fingers into my slick folds and find that treasured hub, needed to spark the fire which so far only threatened to engulf me.
And so I was looking for a secluded glade.
Or a dense thicket. Or even a fallen tree trunk behind a bush. Somewhere, anywhere, out of the way and private. Where I wouldn’t offend a rare passer by with my desires. And that was when I tripped. My mind was not on the running, or the natural obstacles that came with the route. No…
It was entirely focused on the the desperately greedy snatch I had created.
Looking down at my knee and dabbing it with my sleeve I looked up and across the gnarly root that had taunted me in my distracted state. The tree it seemed to be growing from was covered in thick Ivy, and behind the covered trunk was a sheltered clearing, barely visible to me. I’d never noticed this spot before, and as I stood and crossed over I pushed the leaves to one side and entered my temporary boudoir. As my fingers grazed my swollen clit and plundered the aching, pulsing flesh further down, bringing the release so urgently needed, I looked at the blue sky through the leaves and wondered, with a smile on my face:
“Whose brilliant idea was this?”