Outdoor sex on the fishing

“Let me go with you,” she wheedled. “I’ll paddle, and you can
troll.”

He sighed. “You know I prefer to fish alone.”

She knew. She knew how he would go out for hours, leaving her
with the children, whole weekends where she would see him for
minutes a day. Weekends where, during the winter, he’d be giving
that sort of undivided attention to her. It was six weeks into
fishing season, and she was starting to get itchy.

“Mom said she’d take the kids, so we could go,” she said.

He tried to dissuade her. “We’ll be paddling upriver.”

However, she loved to canoe, and didn’t have a problem with
that. With the enforced inactivity of the last few weeks, she
was looking forward to any sort of exercise.

“We’ll be fine. I’ll even pack some lunch.” She smiled.

“Whatever floats your boat, sweetheart.”

She grinned wider. It was as if he was giving her carte
blanche, and she knew how she wanted to use it. She was going
to go fishing too, but her quarry was a mite more skittish than
your average trout.

Together they packed the car with all the canoeing necessities,
loaded the kids up and dropped them off on the way.

It was a beautiful May day. The sun was bright and warm, the
sky that perfect robin’s egg blue. The open windows in the car
let in the occasional waft of fragrance from lilacs and apple
trees in bloom.

She heard the water gurgling in the distance as he pulled the
car into the small gravel lot.

They trudged with their equipment down the steep embankment to
the river. Wide, but not too wide, slow moving for spring, and
reflecting the perfect sky in its clear, dark depths.

The canoe slid smoothly into the calm water. He took the
paddle and pushed off like a punter against the ground,
thrusting them into the current. They took turns on the sides
of the canoe; she on the left, he on the right. And then by
some unseen agreement they would switch sides. The sound of the
water lulled them.

They paddled far upriver, passing only one boat, surrounded by
wilderness on either side; only the distant hum of the highway
in the far distance let them know they were not in the distant
past. They dropped anchor in small pools, allowing him to cast
into the eddies the trout seemed to prefer.

She watched him. He’d carefully choose his lure then cuss when
it snagged on an unseen underwater branch. She opened her book
and read quietly, the current gently bouncing the boat. She hid
her little smirk behind the book when the line snapped.
Patiently, he’d put on another lure and cast back into the eddy.
This time, he managed to pull out a nice brownie. After
releasing it, he pulled anchor. Without being told she stowed
her book and picked up her paddle, moving them even deeper into
the wild.

They followed this tack for a while. The sun warmed them,
until it was overhead, and they pulled out the sandwiches they’d
brought for lunch. She munched on the ham and cheese as he
continued to cast his lures and reel them back. The cicadas were
creating a hum in the distance, and the sun was warm upon her
skin.

“You know, I bet you could paddle out here naked, and no one
would ever know the difference.” His comment jerked her back
from the quiet solitude with a jolt.

“Probably,” she replied distractedly. After a few moments,
though, what he’d said jolted her to reality. Looking around and
seeing no one, she felt devilish.

“You know, you’re right. And it’s getting hot out here…” She
pulled her dress up over her head and threw it into the gunwale
behind her.

He heard the rustle, and turned back to see what she had done.
He chuckled, shaking his head before turning back forward to
continue paddling. The current wasn’t fast here, so she laid
her paddle down, leaning back into the back corner of the canoe,
enjoying the warm spring sunshine on her naked skin. She felt
the canoe bump as he pulled it into an eddy. She closed her
eyes in to the sun, but still felt his eyes on her between
casts. She opened her knees slightly, letting the warm sun tease
her lower lips. She heard his intake of breath and inwardly
smiled. Her fingers absently touched her sex, opening herself
up to the fragrant warmth surrounding her.

She may have dozed, she wasn’t certain. But the next thing she
heard was his putting the fishing pole back into the canoe, and
his pulling up the anchor. “Afternoon. Fish don’t want to bite.
Might as well head back.” She started to sit up, to help paddle
back. “Don’t bother,” he said, “the current will push us back,
and I’ll steer.” She smiled contentedly, seeing the look on his
face.

The neglected wife inside her jumped up and shouted, “I’m gonna
get me some! I’m gonna get me some!” Maybe not now, but
definitely after they put the kids to bed tonight. So she
shifted in the sun, moaning softly under her breath as her
fingers gently stroked her now wet inner lips. She gazed at him
through half lidded eyes, watching his reactions. She brought
one hand up to her breast, teasing the nipples until they stood
out, taut and pert, just waiting for attention.

He shifted in the seat, his hand readjusting himself. He
started to lean forward, but realized what she already knew…
only one of them could be in the front of the canoe. If he were
to join her, they’d tip. She smiled at his discomfiture. It
was then he realized she’d been watching him.

“Two can play that game, you little tease.” And with that, he
pulled his hard length out from his shorts. Staring at the
swollen purple head she’d admired so many times before, she
actually found herself salivating. Salivating and frustrated
because she could no more move to him than he could to her. She
whimpered, causing him to grin. Everything began to tease her.
The rhythm of the current pounding against the canoe, the warm
air currents teasing her skin, even the sounds of bees buzzing
through the wild roses and apple blossoms at the river’s edge.
Her fingers moved faster, trying to relieve the frustration she
was enduring.

Then once again, she heard the hull of the canoe bump and lift
from the water. Since she’d been more or less lying down, she
could not see ahead of them; only the green branches over her
husband’s head. She looked up quickly, and found that they were
on a sandy shoal at the edge of a large grassy flood plain.
Quickly he stumbled out, dragged the canoe solidly up on the
sand and pulled her from her seat. She rushed to keep up,
panting nearly as hard as he. As soon as they were on the
grass, she collapsed to her knees, reaching for his tumescent
prize. Lovingly she slurped down its length, his fingers
tangling through her hair while he moaned. After only a few
minutes, he pushed her away. Without words, she turned onto her
hands and knees and presented him with her wet opening.

Greedily, he thrust his own now wet member into her, causing
them both to moan loudly. He pumped into her, his pace
astonishing. The long grass beneath them brushed her skin,
rasping against her hardened, sensitive nipples, causing sparks
to fly before her eyes. Her body began to tremble announcing
her impending orgasm, since her panting had robbed her of her
voice. Her body stiffened as he pulled out with a groan,
spraying his cum over her rounded backside. Collapsing forward,
she rested her heated skin against the soft, cool grass. After
a few moments, when the orgasm passed, she wobbled down to the
river to rinse off.

“Wow.” She smiled at him. He nodded in agreement.

Catching her breath she added, “I can’t wait to go canoeing
again.”