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.”