The woods would be quiet and apart from the rustle of arran grass and the lapping of the sea, it would be so peaceful. We could walk through the wood... and hold hands, stopping and kissing and finding somewhere we can be more passionate and intimate. It's this slow build up that we both enjoy so much, the stolen kisses and caresses, fingertips brushing against nipples and strained fabric. We would touch and kiss whenever we could, pulling me towards you roughly and pressing your lips against. And I have a confession to make. Last week, on the morning of my eighteenth birthday, I started to come downstairs to get some water. But when I got to the top of the stairs, I saw something that stopped me in my tracks. I saw you looking at your phone, with your hand over the front of your pants. You were rubbing your cock…” My face turned red with embarrassment and I cringed when she said cock. “…I stopped at the top of the stairs and watched. You grabbed your cock and continued rubbing it.. More

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