Chapter 7: Sir Richard and Miss Kitty Hit the Road

Ann owned a nice little red convertible VW Bug, which was, of course, parked conveniently in the garage below our trysting spot. Our deal had been that although within the walls of that garage apartment Ann would treat me like the most intimate lover and sexual master, once outside in the world we would behave as we always had -- as strangers. I decided to change that, at least partly.

I was taking the pictures she had promised to pose for:

Click -- Ann standing at the window, demure, pretty, and completely nude. A profile shot, accentuating her perfect breasts and the downy quality of her pubic hair.

Click -- Ann reclining on the sofa, pinup style, a smile on her face.

Click -- Ann on her knees on the bed, her index finger perched in her mouth, a teasing, questioning look on her face.

"Ann," I said, thinking about what shot I wanted to take next. "What would you say to a little drive around town?"

"I'd prefer to put my clothes back on first," she said, wryly. She was still kneeling on the bed, waiting for me to give her another pose suggestion.

"Of course, of course. I just feel like getting out of here for a while once we use up this roll." I looked her straight in the eye, but she seemed to have no reaction to this obvious breach of contract.

After a moment she sat back on her haunches and said, "We'd have to be a little careful, or course."

Here it was. "Careful about what?"

"Careful my parents don't see us coming out of the garage. We don't want to ruin our setup here, do we?"

Again I was mildly shocked to hear how totally Ann had come over to the side of keeping-this-going. Where I had expected her to insist that none of her friends see her with me, as we had agreed, she had instead been thinking only of the danger to our privacy.

I must have communicated my pleasure and surprise with the expression on my face because she laid back, spread her lovely legs, and said: "Here's a shot for you. Miss Kitty waiting for her gallant knight to... " she smiled mischievously, "drop in."

We both laughed at that, and:

Click -- Ann on her back, legs spread wide, a broad smile on her face as she shows her pussy to the camera.

Click -- Ann fingers herself lightly, face more serious.

Click -- Timer shot, Ann with my dick in her mouth, me standing frame right, she rolled on her side to take me.

Click -- Timer shot, Ann straddles my cock, facing away from me as I lie on my back, her face to the camera. Her hand is guiding me into her pussy.

Needless to say, I had no opportunity to set the timer again after that. She rode my dick like it was a wild horse, turning in mid- fuck to face me, amazingly without letting my dick slide out of her cunt.

She came in short order, and I soon after that, responding as usual to the flood of pussy juice that flowed from her and made her cunt even more slippery. Ah, the wonders of the pill. Back then it was not as easy to get, of course, but little rich girls like Ann Macafee could always get what they wanted.

We got dressed about fifteen minutes later and stole down to the lower part of the building, which was the garage proper. Ann peeked out the lintel window to see if her parents were on the porch, but they were not. She got into the rabbit on the driver's side and motioned for me to get in the passenger's seat.

"I think I'd rather drive," I said, being a typical 16 year old male.

"Once we get going that's fine, but I think you should sort of slump down in the passenger's seat until we get out of this neighborhood -- my parents have friends all around here, and we don't want a nosy neighbor to blow the whistle, do we?"

"No, Ann. I much prefer the way you blow the whistle... " I smiled.

She giggled and patted the seat next to her. I got in, and we put the convertible top up. I hunched down as she had suggested, amazed again at how truly dedicated she had become to keeping our affair alive, and we sped off into the afternoon.

As it was I was pretty content to let her drive. I was not all that good with a stick shift yet, but she was quite comfortable with it, so it was easier to let her continue. Besides, I wanted to look at her while we talked. In the sun, her hair filled with the wind (we had taken the top back down again), she was more beautiful than ever. As I had dozens of times over the past weeks, I thanked whatever stars I had for the incredibly good fortune that had given me access to her.

"So where to?" she asked, putting her sunglasses on with one hand.

"I don't know," I said, and I really did not. I had expected this trip to be a problem, an opportunity to assert my authority over her again, yet here she was perfectly willing, and I had nothing planned. "Why don't we get some ice cream or something?"

"If you want, but I don't like to eat stuff like that."

"Oh?"

"I don't want to get fat. My mom and my sister are. It must be in my genes somewhere. Mind if I make an alternate suggestion?"

"Sure. Shoot."

"There are some nice nature trails near Lake Fornier, on the slope of Freedom Peaks. We could go for a walk there."

I agreed immediately. I had hiked those trails as a little kid, but it had been years. I must admit, the thought of walking with her and simply holding hands was strangely exciting to me -- which was odd when you considered all the fucking and sucking we had done. In some way a walk sounded even more intimate, though.

We arrived at the trailhead with at least three hours of daylight left, which was plenty considering the entire loop was less than two miles long. Ann grabbed a blanket from the trunk of her car -- a rough looking thing that looked like it was used mostly as a car cover. "In case we want to sit," she said, then added as she closed the trunk door, "or something."

Or something did not take long. Ann started like a bat our of hell down the trail, slightly ahead of me, and I got to watch her fine ass move under the folds of her green corduroy skirt for several strides before she stopped, turned, and her out her hand for me to take. We walked down the nature trail hand in hand.

We had walked perhaps a half mile when she led me off the trail. I had noticed that she was gazing at me with a strange look on her face for most of the walk, and now she led me up a grassy slope to a stand of trees that crested the hill we had been circling. The trees were growing in a circle, which is common for spruces, and there was a flat spot in the middle. She spread the blanket out there and sat down, folding her legs gracefully beneath her.