Fictional characters all over the age of 18 written by Sarah Jade
I dug through my backpack, the fading sunlight casting a warm, golden glow over our campsite. My fingers found the silky fabric of my favourite summer dress, a deep, rich red that flowed beautifully over my curves. I couldn’t help but smile, imagining how it would feel against my freshly washed skin. Beneath it lay my lingerie, delicate lace in soft blush tones, and a clean, plush towel. The anticipation of slipping into them sent a thrill through me, making the idea of a cool rinse in the stream even more enticing.
I glanced over at Grandad, who was busy arranging firewood, his silver hair catching the last rays of the sun. His presence was reassuring, a constant anchor in the ever-changing wilderness around us. There was something timeless about these moments with him as if our camping trips existed in a world all their own.
I headed toward the stream with my clothes and towel draped over my arm. The path wound through the trees, and I strolled, savouring the feel of the earth beneath my feet and the evening air’s coolness brushing against my skin. The stream came into view, a ribbon of crystal-clear water meandering through the forest, its gentle babble a soothing melody in the quiet of the woods.
At the water’s edge, I laid down my towel and clothing on a smooth rock. The late afternoon light filtered through the trees, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor. I hesitated momentarily, enjoying the tranquillity of the setting and the way the stream sparkled like liquid silver. I slowly began to undress, peeling off my hiking clothes and stood in my lace lingerie as I took in the nature.
The air was cool against my exposed skin, raising goosebumps as I stood there, the forest around me alive with the subtle sounds of nature. I took a deep breath, the scent of pine and damp earth filling my senses, grounding me in the moment. Slipping out of my lingerie, the lace fell away like a whisper, and I stepped into the stream.
The water was shockingly cold at first, making me gasp as it wrapped around my ankles. I waded in more profoundly, the coolness creeping up my legs, sending shivers across my skin. I cupped my hands and splashed the water over my body, the icy sensation sharp and refreshing. The stream’s current was gentle, just strong enough to tease against my legs, the sensation both soothing and thrilling.
I let the water cascade over my shoulders, the droplets trailing down my skin, following the curves of my body before returning to the stream. The chill of the water was invigorating, washing away the dust and heat of the day, leaving me feeling clean, alive, and more in tune with the wildness around me. I ran my hands through my hair, tilting my head back to let the water glide over my neck, closing my eyes and losing myself in the moment.
The sound of the stream, the rustling leaves, and the distant bird call all blended, creating a symphony that seemed to pulse with the rhythm of the forest itself. I moved slowly, savouring every sensation, every brush of water against my skin, every whisper of wind through the trees.
Suddenly, I heard a rustle from behind me, and I instinctively covered myself with my arms, my heart skipping a beat. I turned to see Grandad standing at the edge of the trees, his eyes wide with embarrassment as he quickly averted his gaze.
“Tracey, are you alright?” he stammered, his voice tinged with concern. I quickly covered my chest with my arm. I think it was too late; what he already saw embarrassed him, but I covered my chest with my arm anyway.
“I’m fine, Grandad,” I replied, cheeks flushing with the cool air and a touch of embarrassment. “I just needed to cool off.”
He nodded, his hand covering his eyes as he turned to go. “oh, my… I… I’ll… I’ll give you some privacy,” he muttered, flustered as he retreated toward the campsite.
I watched him go, a mix of amusement and embarrassment swirling within me. The moment was awkward, but something was endearing about his reaction, a reminder of the simple, honest bond we shared. As his footsteps faded, I let out a small sigh, my heartbeat slowly returning to normal.
Turning back to the stream, I took a deep breath and relaxed again. The water flowed around me, its coolness soothing my heated skin, the forest resuming its quiet symphony. I finished rinsing off, feeling the last traces of tension melt away as the evening settled into a calm, peaceful rhythm.
After a few more moments of lingering in the cool embrace of the stream, I decided it was time to get out. The air had cooled significantly as the sun dipped lower, casting a soft twilight glow over the forest. I waded toward the bank, the water rippling gently around me, and stepped onto the smooth rocks that lined the stream’s edge. Goosebumps rose on my skin as the breeze brushed against me, a refreshing contrast to the warmth that still clung to the air.
Reaching for the towel, I began to dry myself off, the plush fabric soft against my skin. I moved slowly, taking my time, enjoying the simplicity of the moment—the rustle of leaves overhead, the distant call of a night bird, and the fading warmth of the day. As I dried off, the chill of the stream left me, replaced by a comforting warmth that seemed to radiate from within.
Once dry, I slipped on my lace lingerie and bra, the delicate fabric clinging to my body in a way that felt comforting and indulgent. Next, I reached for my summer dress, the deep red fabric sliding over my skin like liquid silk. The dress hugged my curves and flowed around my legs, the hem fluttering lightly as I moved. It was the perfect combination of elegance and ease, making me feel effortlessly beautiful even in the heart of the wilderness.
With my hair still damp, I gave it a quick tousle with the towel, letting it fall naturally around my shoulders. The last rays of sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a soft, golden light over everything. I took a moment to soak it in, feeling a deep peace and contentment.
Gathering my things, I turned and began to make my way back to the campsite. The path through the trees was familiar, and I strolled, the sounds of the forest settling into its nighttime rhythms. The scent of wood smoke reached me before I saw the flickering glow of the campfire through the trees, and my stomach gave a slight, appreciative growl at the thought of food.
When I stepped into the clearing, I found Grandad cooking over the fire. He glanced up as I approached, his eyes softening with a smile that held a mix of relief and affection. The awkwardness from earlier seemed to have faded, replaced by the easy camaraderie that always existed between us.
“Feeling better?” he asked, his tone gentle as he flipped what looked like a couple of sausages in the pan.
“Much better,” I replied, settling on the log beside him. The warmth of the fire was welcome against the cool evening air, and I stretched out my legs, feeling entirely at ease.
The aroma of cooking sausages mixed with the smoky scent of the fire, and my stomach grumbled again, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten in hours. Grandad chuckled at the sound, handing me a plate with a knowing smile.
“Hungry?”
“Starving,” I admitted, taking the plate gratefully. He’d already set out some bread and cheese, and as I took a bite, the simple flavours tasted like heaven after the day’s exertions.
We ate together in comfortable silence, the fire crackling softly beside us. The forest around us seemed to exhale, settling into the calm of night, and I felt a deep sense of connection to this place, to this moment.
Later that night, it got late, so we went into the tent. ” Oh no,” Grandad said. There is only one sleeping bag.”
“It’s alright, Grandad,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “We can share.”
A flicker of relief passed over his features, and he nodded, a shy smile on his lips. We unzipped the sleeping bag and settled inside, the warmth of our bodies mingling in the enclosed space. The night was still, the only sound the crackling of the fire and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.
As we lay close together, a sense of intimacy and comfort enveloped us, the shared warmth of the sleeping bag a barrier against the cool night air. I could feel Grandad’s steady breath against my neck, the rise and fall of his chest a reassuring rhythm. The scent of the forest and the fire’s smoke clung to our skin, blending in a heady mix.
We were laid in a spoon position, and he snuggled into me as there was no room; that’s when I felt awkward with something sticking into my bottom.
I suddenly realized that Grandad’s thing was hard, “Grandad, is everything alright?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
He stiffened, his breathing becoming more shallow. “Oh, um, yes, Tracey.”
Poor grandad, I didn’t want to embarrass him any more. “It’s okay, grandad. I know you’re a man, and it’s not your fault.”
I felt bad for him, and I squished up against him probably didn’t help; I could feel it pulsate against my ass cheek.
I moved a little and unintentionally moved my bum around, which rubbed against his cock. He couldn’t help but groan softly, the sound low and guttural.
I cant believe what I suggested next, “if you need to relieve the tension grandad you can use me.”
There was a pause as Grandad seemed to process my words. “Really?” he asked hesitantly. I couldn’t believe I just offered him such a thing, but in this intimate moment, it somehow seemed right. “If it would help you feel more comfortable,” I whispered the words more a feeling than a logical thought. There was another pause as Grandad hesitated, clearly unsure and surprised. Then he shifted slightly behind me, and I could feel the heat of him as his cock nudged against the crease of my butt.
“yes, all I have to do is slide my knickers down to my thighs, and you should be able to slide it in from behind, but…”
He cut me off, “Wait, Tracey,” Grandad interrupted, his voice hoarse with a mix of desire and disbelief. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or take advantage of our closeness.”
I sighed and I slightly pulled my knickers down, and my arm reached behind me and to his briefs. I took out his hard cock and I held it to my hand as I pressed against my pussy lips. I pushed my bum back and his cock slowly slid inside my pussy.
I gasped, “Um… right, have fun, grandad. Clearly, you need it.”
Grandad took a deep, shuddering breath as he began to move inside me, the sensation of his cock filling me both strangely and incredibly arousing. I couldn’t believe what was happening, yet there was a rightness to it, an intimacy that felt deeply meaningful. I moaned softly, the feeling of him inside me intensifying with each slow, measured thrust.
“Oh my, I can’t believe my old cocks in your young pussy. Is this alright, Tracey?” Grandad whispered, his breath hot against my ear.
I couldn’t help but moan in response, the feeling of him deep inside me both unfamiliar and exhilarating. “Yes, Grandad, it feels good. Just take your time,” I murmured, my body responding to the slow, steady rhythm of his hips.
The tent was filled with the soft sounds of us having sex, the rustle of the sleeping bag and our quiet, gasping breaths.
“You’re so tight, Tracey,” Grandad whispered, his breath hot against my neck. “And so fucking wet.”
“Ummm… that’s because… I have not had… many… oh fuck, many cocks,” I struggle to get out in between moans.
“Pretty girl like you… ah sweetie, oh your pussy… pretty girl like you I thought you would be getting a lot of dick.” Oh my god, I couldn’t believe his words.
“Grandad, you’re making me so horny with your dirty talk; I’ve only ever been with two men,” I admitted, the feeling of him inside me sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through me.
“Keep saying those dirty things to me, Grandad. You’re making me so fucking hot,” I said, the pleasure of him filling me mingling with a growing desire for more, a need for the sensation of him deep inside me.
His cock continued to slide in and out of me, his thrusts becoming faster and more urgent as we lost ourselves in the moment. The feeling of him filling me was intense and arousing, each slow, measured thrust stoking the fire of desire burning within me. I pressed back against him, our bodies moving in unison as we found our own rhythm.
With each thrust, his hips slapped against my ass, “Oh, Tracey… Goddamn, I can feel every inch of your tight pussy. The sounds of my cock sliding in and out are driving me crazy. Tell me how much you love my hard cock. How fucking dirty you like it,” Grandad said, his voice low and gravelly with lust. I couldn’t help but obey him.
“Oh, yes, fuck me harder with your hard cock, Grandad. I love it. The way it feels deep inside me. Your dirty words make me so wet, so fucking dirty,” I moaned, the tension in my body coiling tighter with each passing second. My breath caught in my throat as his cock hit my G-spot, a wave of pleasure crashing over me.
“Say it again; say it with more filth, Tracey. Tell me how good my cock feels. Say you want it rough, my old man’s cock inside you. I want to hear how much you fucking love this,” Grandad said, his voice even rougher. I let out a whimper, his words only stoking the fire inside me as the sound of my ass slapping against him grew louder.
“Oh, God, Grandad… YES… YES… give it to me harder… your old man cock, it’s so big and fucking hard. It feels so fucking good inside me, filling me up. I want it rough; I want you to pound me, to make me scream. I want every inch of you sliding in and out of me, hitting all the right spots. Your dirty words, your filthy talk, it’s turning me on so much, making me so fucking wet. Ummmm… Uhhh… FUCK me harder, I can’t help but moan and gasp as you fuck me harder, your cock hitting my G-spot again and again. I’m so close, Grandad, I’m going to cum all over your cock. I want to feel you fill me up; I want to hear you grunt and groan as you cum deep inside me. Oh, FUCK, Grandad… I’m cumming… I’M CUMMING SO FUCKING HARD,” I screamed, my body shaking as I came hard. My pussy clenched around his cock, the waves of pleasure crashing over me as I cried out in ecstasy, my moans filling the tent.
He wasn’t expecting that much filth to roll off my tongue it made his dick go crazy in me.
As I lay there, trembling and gasping for breath, Grandad continued to thrust into me, “I’m close, Tracey. So fucking close,” Grandad groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his release. “Your pussy is so tight, so fucking hot. I can feel you milking my cock, trying to drain every last drop from me. I’m going to cum, Tracey. I’m going to fill you up with my cum, coat your insides with it. Tell me you want it, Tracey. Tell me you want me to fill you up.”
“Yes, Grandad. Yes. I want it. I want you to fill me up with your cum.” I gasped, still recovering from my orgasm.
With a guttural groan, Grandad thrust deep inside me, his cock twitching as he filled me with his release. The feeling of him cumming deep inside me was intense and indescribable, the warmth of his seed filling me as I milked every last drop from him. We lay there, panting and gasping for breath, our bodies entwined in warmth and satisfaction. The sounds of the forest filtered through the tent, the night settling into a calm, peaceful rhythm around us.
After a few moments, our breathing returned to normal, and Grandad carefully slid out of me, a soft sigh of satisfaction escaping his lips. We lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the warmth of the sleeping bag and the intimacy of the moment enveloping us in a cocoon of contentment. The night was quiet, the only sound the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze and the distant call of a night bird.
I couldn’t believe what had just happened between us. It was a moment of intimacy and connection I would never forget, a memory forever etched in my mind. I knew our relationship had been forever changed, but I also knew it was for the better.
As the night deepened, I drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the warmth of Grandad’s arms, the scent of the forest and the fire’s smoke clinging to our skin. I felt a deep sense of peace and contentment, which resonated in every fibre of my being. It was a perfect ending to a perfect day, a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.
