Back to where it all began.
They were both out of breath by the time they got back up to the gully where she had fallen.
“Now, my love. The place we first met.”
They stood on the edge of the gully, looking down into it.
“Act one, scene one… but let’s get the camera set up first to capture it all, once we set this ball rolling.”
They would make another movie similar to the one made by accident down by the river, but with the new memory card and fresh batteries. Peter would also capture some memorable stills with his camera from time to time as they paused the action without interrupting her camera, which would be filming everything from a strategic location to catch every detail of what they did together.
She quickly fell into the mood of it, seeing what it was that he wanted, smiling at his horny ingenuity.
She should first be lying in the water as she’d been that day, even dressed as she had been, and with him dressed as he had been. The water would still be as cold, but the day was much hotter, so it would not be any hardship, but a welcome break from the heat.
They opened her bag and got dressed as they had been, mostly, trying to reproduce everything faithfully as it had occurred that special day, but with some significant changes as the action unfolded, and she knew what those changes would be, considering the mood they were both in. He had saved himself for this. She felt her own excitement building, knowing what would happen this time where it had not happened that first time with her being so scared and being sure of nothing.
She approved. Another difference would be that she would need to act as though her ankle was sprained, although it didn’t matter. His carrying her out of the water as he had, and hen taking off her boots and socks to pay attention to her ankle first, would be all the convincing anyone would need.
The film would be the only visual record of the way they wished it had happened, but her journal had the real story, the way it had actually happened, with her early dreams and hopes, and she would add more to it, to describe today in even more detail, exactly as she had done each day since they had met.
He watched as Sheila picked her way down the slope, set up the camera, which he would relocate as it became necessary, waded out into the pond and then laid down in it, clearly enjoying the cool water.
He snapped some photographs from the top of the bank, of her lying in the water, then zoomed in to take others.
Laughing in anticipation of how this day would be different, for them, he snapped others, then jumped down after her, taking giant strides down the finer-shale slope, snapping more photographs at the bottom, then stepped into the water, leaving his camera on the bank.
He reached out to take her arms as she looked up at him smiling.
“Glad you could join me, Peter.” This was not how she had welcomed him the first time. There was no shyness, no hesitation. She pulled him in with her to get him just as wet as she was as they both laughed and kissed, both immersed in the water, even rolling in it as though there was another problem.
The water was still cold, but welcome. They would not be wet for long.
“I think you need my help again.”
She nodded. “I certainly do.” She smiled coyly at him. “But how will you help me, sir?”
“Very carefully, and very intently, little girl.” He sat in the water with her, smiling. “I’ll need to get you out of here first, and onto those rocks in the sun, then I shall have to undress you.”
“Oh." She hammed it for the camera as though she were suddenly shy. "Yes, I suppose I will have to get rid of these wet things. What about you?”
I’m wet too, so my things will certainly have to come off as well, leaving us naked together. Oh dear.” He had been aroused coming down that slope, but now he was in even greater extremis, despite the cold water.
He stood over her, held her upper arms and brought her to her feet into his arms, kissing her.
“Is this part of the script, Peter?”
“It is now. To hell with the script. There never was one other than to get your clothes off and get into you just as fast as I wanted to that first time when I saw your breasts and then your flimsy panties and what they could not hide."
He kissed her repeatedly, and never mind about re-enacting the initial shyness or restraint.
“We’re ad-libbing it now. You know what’s going to happen this time that didn’t happen the first.” She did indeed.
His arm swept around her, under her as he had the first time, lifted her into his arms and ploughed his way to the bank.
At the edge of the water, he sat her on a rock as though she were helpless—at least for this part, they could stick to the story-line—climbed over the steep bank, and then he lifted her again to move her another couple of feet to put her in the full sun, exactly as before, then retreated to relocate the camera to a better position.
She looked far different this time with no fear or anxiety to be seen.
He lifted her up into his arms again, one arm under her, and carried her farther along the edge of the water; sitting her on a broad slab of flat rock, the same one as that first day.
As before, everything was wet; shirt, shorts; everything, and so was he now, thanks to her dragging him into the water with her.
As the camera dutifully rolled on, watching them with its beady eye, he took off her boots and socks, looking up into her face, laying her boots, as before, where they would drain, and took a look at her ankle for the sake of the camera, feeling the warm sun on his back. She had no choice about anything now but didn’t care.
She knew exactly what was going to happen to her this time, and she approved of everything.
He stripped off his wet shirt and opened it up across one of the larger slabs of rock. It would still be damp when he put it on again, and if not, he’d wet it down.
She knew the next part of the script.
He turned back to her and unbuttoned her shirt, taking it off her slowly, down her arms, discovering as before that she was wearing nothing under that shirt.
His breath caught in his throat as it had before, and he could barely help himself.
She did not try to hide herself from him this time, but just smiled at him, seeing how she affected him.
He still faltered, staring at her breasts. He’d never seen breasts so perfectly formed, so magnificent, and could not resist leaning in to kiss them, feeling her pull him forward, helping him, totally unlike the previous time.
As before, she felt the shock of him seeing her, pass through his hands as he held her.
He tossed her shirt onto another rock to one side of them, then ran his hands over her hair and body to sweep the water of her, covering everywhere he could as he held her close.
He sat on a rock beside her and took off his own boots and socks to drain and dry in the sun as she held his arm, not wanting him to get too far from her, and to leave the frame of the camera recording silently, catching everything.
His shorts came off next, leaving him wearing only his undershorts. He had a problem already, but that would soon be solved. At least, this time she wasn’t covering herself, hiding her wondrous breasts from him.
He turned to kneel in front of her, looking up at her, bringing her head down to kiss him. as he let his hands discover her breasts again as they had not been able to do that first time just four days earlier.
“Now, on to the next stage, my love, after all of the wonderful effort we put into getting up here, and with us both well-primed for this.”
She knew what that was, but he was the one who was well-primed, as she could see, even with his undershorts striving to hide what they could never hide, the way they were pushing out from him.
She became decisive for herself now. “These should come off first, Peter.”
“Ah, yes, how right you are.” He rose to his feet and stripped his undershorts off, leaving him naked, hard enough to splinter a plank.
“Wasn’t this where we introduced ourselves, Peter?”
“Yes, but you know that I have a different introduction in mind this time for you; for us.”
She knew, feeling as impatient and anxious as he was.
He slowly undid the top of her shorts and brought the zip down, pulling the sides apart, revealing, not delicate underwear as before, but delicate wisps of hair that he so wanted to stroll around in, and to explore in even more detail. He needed to learn more. His mouth had gone dry.
“I should get these dry too.”
He put his arm around her just above the top of her shorts, her breasts pushing against his face as he nuzzled into them, and then slowly stripped off her shorts, seeing that this time, as he already knew, she had no panties on, pulling at the bottom of the legs to free them from where they clung to her still damp thighs, inviting his eyes and hands to travel up them to heaven itself.
She saw that his ears were blushing red and his hands were trembling against her, just as they had the first time. It was not nervousness; It was raw eagerness, as well as fatigue from all of their eager love-making of the last fourteen hours.
He teased her shorts the rest of the way down her legs and off her feet, tossing them to join their other clothing, then dried her legs, as he had dried her body, moving his hands firmly down them inside and outside of her thighs with her legs moving apart after that, so that he could do what he often did now, nuzzling into her and kissing her there on those other lips, pausing to investigate between them with his mouth and tongue.
When he eventually backed away from her, she smiled, seeing what he could not hide from her about his condition; not even trying to hide it. Why should he hide it?
It was time.
She took him by the arms and brought him close to her between her legs, knowing that he would easily be able to find her down there this time for himself, even as they came together and kissed.
She felt him come up against her, and then after a few small exploratory pushes, felt him find the right place, sliding into her as she laid back under him along the rock, feeling the heat on her back as he rose up above her, pushing into her, distending her as he moved deeper into her until he could go no farther. He felt much bigger than he had been earlier.
After their personal explorations, playing around just to get up here, almost coming, the last time he had gone into her, he could not hold back.
She felt him pushing hard again—all of what they were doing still being caught on camera, even as he went into her.
He came, barely a minute or two later.
They stayed like that for the next five minutes, kissing, holding each other, caressing each other.
When they had recovered, able to think clearly and to speak, he shared another thought.
“We shall come up here and make love next weekend too, and then on each anniversary in summer.” She agreed.
It took him some time to leave her body. He was exhausted.
“Where to now, Peter.” She liked the way the day was unfolding, and was going to leave everything up to him.
“Back to the end of the Fell, to the sheepfold, down to the road and home.” Yes. The sheepfold. Another memorable stop.
He spoke of her home already, as his home. She wondered what his sisters would think about that.
“We only need our socks and boots on; nothing else. We’ll be able to see anyone within a half mile of us up here. But first”—he looked up the gully slope— “we can turn your camera to point directly up, where we will climb out. I’ll scramble up first, with our clothes, and then I am going to piggyback you just as you are, as we did it before, but this time with both of us naked. And oh, what a sight that will be to zoom in on.” She would be leaking his sperm down his back, and she would be on full display herself, to show the world where he had eagerly visited within her, and her vagina still gaping.
He brought socks and boots over for them both and helped her on with hers before doing anything for himself.
They paused and kissed as he went into her again, as though leaving a book mark between her labia, marking his place in her for future reference when they got to the sheepfold, as if he needed a bookmark to get back into her again.
She turned the camera on him after he had taken other shots of her with his own camera, and gathered up everything from down here as he scrambled up the slope, setting her laughing, seeing his balls behind him as he climbed. They appeared to be as they always were and were not hanging down to his knees as he’d joked about.
At the bottom with her again, he took her into his arms, unable to leave her alone, before she climbed onto his back, wetting his back with what leaked from her, though leaving an equally telling mark and more of him on that rock they had made love upon.
Once they were both at the top, he repacked her bag, rolling up their still-damp clothing to carry separately, and went back down for the camera; striking different poses on his way down, hamming it up himself for the camera to record. No one would ever see these photographs and films, other than them.
They struck out across the fell, hand in hand, laughing, exhausted, but exhilarated.
What a sight they would present for anyone to see. Two completely naked individuals, utterly shameless, stopping often to kiss and touch, and for him to go into her once more as he would always want to do, though with no chance of coming again for a while after such a demanding day.
Sheila knew that after an hour’s walking his batteries would be re-charged and he would want her again, with the never-fading libido of a horny lover.
At the sheepfold at the end of the Fell, before they descended to the road, they paused in the lee of the wall, and ate the last of their lunches, finished off the thermos of coffee that they’d carried with them all day, and then laid down together to see what would develop after such a strenuous day.
He rolled toward her and held her breast as she went onto her back to see how he would respond.
“If you are too tired to have me again, Peter, after such a hectic day, I will understand. We don’t have to make love if you don’t want to. We made love in so many memorable ways today and even caught them on camera. We can save your energy for tonight.”
He smiled. “I know we don’t have to, but I want to. I will always want to try. I like this feeling of sharing myself with the woman I love; of exciting her as I seem to do, and experiencing so much intimate pleasure with her.”
“How shall we do it this time, Peter? It’s been different every time we made love. I didn’t realise there were so many possibilities.”
“And a lot more for us to discover, my love. I shall lie here on my back, Sheila, and you can be the one to come on top of me this time. It won’t be very different. I can still hold your breasts, kiss them, and we can kiss, but you may need to do some of the hard work.”
She didn’t mind that. She came over him, straddling him, on her knees above him, and directed him into her as she sat down onto him, getting all of him into her, then laying along him as she straightened her legs out, first one, then the other, without him leaving her body, so that she could lie along him, on top of him this time.
She wasn’t on top for long. As soon as he sensed that he was coming, he rolled with her so that he could use gravity to get deep into her again, as he would always want to do, and came, as they kissed.
“I’ll pay for this tonight, if not before.”
“My balls are going to ache. Lover's nuts! I’m asking them to work very hard, and overtime, to keep you supplied.”
She laughed. The entire thing was unfamiliar and strange to her, but she knew what she wanted, and what she liked. She would soon learn about all of these strange things that a man brought into a woman’s life.
Afterward, she squatted by the wall as he rolled closer to her and touched her gently between her labia, as what he’d left in her again, dribbled out, always curious, making it difficult for her to relax until he backed away and just observed without touching. She felt him drain from her, and then she was able to pee. He watched everything she did, just as she watched him pee after that too. She couldn’t leave him alone either, wanting to hold him, which she did. It took him a long time to pee as they both giggled about what she was doing to him, delaying him from being able to pee by keeping him erect.
He explained it to her, how she cut off his water flow by holding him and getting him excited.
"I can do one thing, or the other thing: pee or ‘come’. I can’t do both, and when you hold me and get me excited as you always will, I just want to come."
Fortunately, there was no one to see them playing around as they did.
He kissed her. “Let’s go home, Sheila. I’ll do the animals, then we’ll shower, get some dinner and then see what other mischief we can get up to again, or we can just go up the bed. It goes without saying that clothes will be optional once we get home.”
Translation: Not required.
“Before we leave here we should get dressed, Peter.”
“Oh, Lord, yes.” I am so used to being without clothing around you that I was forgetting myself. What a spectacle we would present, walking along the road together completely naked, and me, half aroused.”
Try, fully aroused! He’d soon recovered, thinking about what they would be doing when they got home.
He untied their roll of clothing from their bag, and they helped each other dress in yet another slow ritual they had learned to take their time over and to enjoy, as they came together, kissed and touched, neither of them really wanting to get dressed, but they would soon be home and could then undress and relax again.
She looked around them as he brought her shirt around her, pausing only to caress her breasts and kiss them once more, for the hundredth time that day.
“This sheepfold, Peter, can be one of our regular stops too, whenever we are up here.”
“Agreed. I’m knackered again. I think you should carry me down this time.”