“Oh, really,” said my fiancee

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Amateur

Some years ago, my fiancee and I were enjoying a few days in the countryside. She’d not been for muddy walks in many years but was glad to see the beauty all around and, soon, we were tramping along footpaths and tracks. She loved exploring the old walls and workings, tumbled-down homes and barns, woods and streams.

Inevitably, it came on to rain and the ground became squelchy underfoot. I was ok in Argyll wellies but her not-welly-boots were not up to the task. I pressed the point and she agreed to head to one of the BATA stores in the area. I was secretly over the moon! Not only was I horny just being around my beautiful soon to be wife but I was giddy with anticipating seeing her in rubber boots. Hunters, especially.

I knew the store we were driving to stocked Hunters, along with Argylls, and those dreadful plastic jobs. My fiancee was a stylish beauty. A knockout, in fact. She looked at the Hunter range – which was limited to dark blue Hunter Originals, and the trademark green colour. These also offered the Huntress option (for more generous calves). She frowned at that innocent but thoughtless suggestion and flat-out laughed at the idea of black şişli escort Argyll rubber wellies, pointing to my clod-hoppers and shaking her head. Flapping rubber on her calves was not her thing but the stylish Hunter Original: she oozed pleasure as she tried them for size. Decision made: dark blue, made in Scotland under the Gates brand. I was delighted, paid eagerly, and was rewarded with her walking out of the store wearing the new rubber boots.

As a side thought, you can be sure that I was drinking in the scent of the new, now vintage, rubber wellies. I was only too happy to pick out the pairs she wished to try and hold them as she slipped them over her cute feet. I remember that well.

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We left the shop welly-boot shod and off we went about the town. My fiancee had no idea that I was feeling utterly sexually aroused the whole time. A boner with no satisfaction in sight. Oh, how I wanted to feel her hand on my throbbing crotch! I’d connive a way to hold back or walk ahead from time to time so that I could look at her from head to toe: especially toe. My Argylls slapped about my calves – my feet too large for Hunters – but that I was taksim escort wearing them openly was as intoxicating as ever. It rained. It stopped. It rained. You get the idea.

We laughed a lot as we explored the small town. We laughed more whilst in the car — where I made sure to have the heater set to warm our rubber-covered feet. The scent was amazing and served to keep me throbbing the whole time.

Well, when we arrived home at the end of the day, yes, we did enjoy each others’ bodies in bed.

The next day was drizzly weather. I’ve found truth in the old saw that weather looks worse through a window and pushed that we should walk in the woods near the river. It would be sheltered and she’d be sure-footed and dry in her new rubber wellies.

I drove us to the place I had in mind — never been before — so this was fresh exploration. Sure, the footpaths were slippery but we were soon laughing and playing.

It was there that something changed in my life. For the better and dramatically. My fiancee turned and caught me just standing still and looking at her, admiringly. She walked the few steps back to me and stood right in my beşiktaş escort face: her eyes locked with mine. I had a solid erection, felt utterly horny — desired her with a passion, in fact. We simply stood for what seemed like ages but could only have been moments.

Now, I was facing truth. I had to be completely honest with her. In that honesty was risk – risk of rejection, loss, destruction. Within me was a maelstrom of emotion – no little fear.

What I was thinking, dreaming, feeling…all must have been evident on my face. “What?”, she asked. I took a deep breath and replied, “I think you look absolutely desirable and sexy in those wellies”. She looked at me. “Oh: really?”, as she posed playfully. “Don’t mock me…please. I’ve always had a thing for certain rubber wellies and seeing you in those Hunters just makes me want to jump your bones”.

She smiled and kissed me. Slowly. Gently. She kissed me with restrained power and passion. I felt her wrap a welly boot around around my legs and, then, massage me. The rubber sliding easily against my jeans. Of course, her crotch was pressing against mine and, as she felt my hardness, her kiss deepened and time passed, for me, as if in a dream.

When, eventually, we started back down the path, my fiancee pulled me to a stop. She put her arms around me, and we kissed with a deep and sensual passion – more hungry than we had before experienced.

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