Peeping On Hot Young Couple’s Dirty Forest Fun
Table of Contents
Sneaking Through Forest To Find Some Fresh Meat
I trudge through my forest, my boots crunching on the dry leaves that crack under each step. Dawn is breaking, pale light seeping through the dense canopies of oaks and spruces, casting a pattern of shadows and golden streaks on the ground.
My breath steams in the cool air, the scent of damp earth and resin filling my nose.
The rifle hangs heavy over my shoulder, the strap rubbing lightly against my jacket. In my hand, I hold my binoculars, the lenses glinting as a sunray brushes them.
I climb the narrow path, my muscles tensing as I step over roots and rocks, until the hunting stand looms before me—a rough wooden structure, weathered but sturdy, perched high between two old pines.
I grab the ladder, the rungs creaking under my heavy boots, and pull myself up. At the top, I sit on the bench, the wood groaning softly.
The stand offers a view: firs sway gently in the wind, a woodpecker hammers in the distance, and somewhere an animal rustles through the undergrowth. I raise the binoculars, adjust the lenses until the world comes into focus.
First, I scan the forest edge, sweeping the clearing where deer often graze. Nothing. Just grasses bending in the morning breeze, and a few birds flitting up.
Spying On Young Couple’s Passionate Forest Kiss
Then, off the path, my gaze catches movement. I swing the binoculars, focus. There, between dense ferns and a cluster of young birches, stand two figures.
My heart beats faster. I turn the dial, zoom in. A young woman emerges, maybe mid-twenties. Her body radiates strength: slender, muscled legs in tight black leggings that trace every curve.
Her ass stretches the fabric, round and firm, a sight that locks my gaze. She wears a tight gray tank top, accentuating her narrow waist and full breasts, which rise slightly with each breath.
Her face glows: high cheekbones, full lips twitching in a shy smile, and dark hair bouncing in a ponytail, a few strands clinging to her damp forehead.
Beside her stands a young man, tall, broad-shouldered. His body speaks of training: muscles outlined under a black T-shirt, his arms sinewy, hands strong. He wears khaki shorts, loose around his thighs.
His jaw is sharp, his eyes sparkling as he looks at her. I hold my breath, the binoculars trembling slightly in my hands. They stand close, their gazes locked. He lifts a hand, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek.
She smiles, tilts her head, and then he leans in. Their lips meet. He kisses her gently, then more urgently, his hand sliding to her neck, pulling her closer. She presses against him, her hands clawing at his T-shirt, tugging the fabric.
My pulse races, a tingle stirring in my stomach. I shift on the bench, the wood creaks, the binoculars stay glued to my eyes. She pulls away, her eyes flashing, then slowly sinks to her knees before him. Leaves rustle under her, small twigs snap.
Her fingers grab his belt, tugging at the leather, unbuckling it with a soft click. She pulls the belt free, lets it drop, the leather coiling into the moss.
Her hands tug at his shorts, sliding them down, the fabric gliding over his muscular thighs, pooling at his ankles. His boxers follow, she yanks them down, and his penis springs free—half-erect, thick, veins pulsing visibly. I swallow hard, my throat drying out.
Sucking Him: Young Woman's Mouth On His Throbbing Cock
She grips him with one hand, her fingers closing firmly around his shaft. She strokes, rubs, her hand moving rhythmically, up and down, the skin tightening as he hardens.
His cock grows, swells, until it stands rigid before her, the tip glistening wet in the dim light. She looks up at him, a mischievous grin flickering across her lips, then leans forward.
Her tongue brushes the tip, licking slowly, tasting him. He moans, a deep, rough sound echoing through the forest. My hands shake, the binoculars wobble, I grip them tighter, blink sweat from my eyes.
She opens her mouth, takes him in, her lips closing around his dick, sucking gently.
Her cheeks hollow, she moves her head, taking him deeper, her tongue swirling around the tip. His hands grab her hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands, guiding her, pushing gently into her mouth.
She gags slightly, a soft, wet sound, but doesn’t stop, sucking harder, her hand massaging the base, stroking his balls, which tighten. He gasps, his head falling back, the muscles in his neck tensing.
I feel my own penis twitch, pressing against my tight pants. My breath quickens, I shift on the bench, the friction of the fabric igniting a burn in me.
Minutes pass, her rhythm speeds up, she sucks greedily, her lips glistening, a thin thread of saliva dripping to her chin. He grabs her tighter, suddenly pulls her up. She stumbles, stands, her legs wobbling slightly.
He turns her, pushes her toward a fallen log lying across the moss, the bark rough and mottled. She bends forward, braces her hands on the log, her fingers digging into the bark, splinters breaking free.
Bending Her Over And Eating Her Pussy
Her ass arches toward him, the leggings stretching over the perfect curves, the fabric hugging the cleft.
He grabs the waistband, yanks the leggings down, the material scraping over her hips, her thighs, until it hangs at her ankles. Her panties follow, a thin white thing, he tears them down, tosses them into the leaves.
Her ass gleams in the morning light, the skin smooth, the muscles taut. He drops to his knees, his hands grip her hips, pulling them apart. His lips find her, kissing the soft skin of her inner thighs, nibbling upward.
She twitches, a soft whimper escaping. He buries his face, licks her, his tongue dipping into her cleft, tasting her wetness. She moans, her fingers clawing deeper into the bark, her body trembling.
He sucks, smacks, his tongue dancing over her clit, plunging into her, licking greedily. Her head drops, the ponytail swings, sweat drips from her forehead into the moss.
My cock pulses, pressing hard against the fabric of my pants. I gasp, set the binoculars down briefly, my hands fumbling at my belt. The buckle clatters, I yank my pants down, my penis springs free, rigid, the tip glistening.
I grip it, stroke, the skin tight, a shiver racing through me. I lift the binoculars again, blink, find them. He’s standing now, rising behind her, his hands clamping her hips.
His cock juts up, thick and hard, he rubs it against her cleft, teasing her. She whimpers, presses back against him, her ass twitching. He grips tighter, thrusts, entering her, a deep, powerful push. She cries out, a high, raw sound, her nails scraping the bark.
Secretly Watching Couple Having Sex In The Forest
He moves, pulls back, thrusts again, his rhythm speeding up. His hips slap against her ass, the skin reddening, ripples running across her cheeks. She gasps, moans, her body rocking with each thrust, her breasts bouncing in the tank top.
He grunts, his fingers digging into her hips, leaving red marks. I stroke myself faster, my hand flying over my dick, the friction burning, my breath catching. The sight captivates me: her ass jiggles, his muscles tense, sweat glistens on his chest, drips onto her back.
He speeds up, thrusting harder, deeper, his face contorting, teeth biting his lip. She screams, her body shuddering, her legs trembling as an orgasm rips through her.
He pulls out, his penis glistening wet, he grabs it, rubs once, twice. Then he explodes: a thick, white stream shoots out, splashes onto her cheeks, drips over the smooth skin, runs into the cleft.
A second burst follows, spraying her lower back, beading on her skin. She gasps, slumps against the log, her ass glinting in the light, the fluid shimmering.
I moan, my body tensing, my hand flying, milking my cock. The heat rises, my heart pounds, and then I come. A spurt shoots out, splashes my hand, drips onto the bench, warm and sticky.
I gasp, tremble, the binoculars nearly fall, I catch them, blink. They straighten up, he pulls his shorts up, she tugs the leggings over her hips, the panties left in the leaves. They kiss, laugh softly, then vanish between the trees, twigs snapping under their steps.
I sit there, breathing hard, my dick softening, the wetness cooling on my skin. The forest hums again, birds chirp, the wind brushes the leaves. I wipe my hand on my pants, pull them up, buckle the belt.
The binoculars rest in my lap, the lenses catching the light. My heart steadies, but the image burns in: her ass, his thrust, the spurt on her skin. I grin, climb down the ladder, my legs wobbling slightly. The forest takes me in again, and I trudge on, the memory pulsing within me.
