me in forest

840 zhliadnutí

The Forest… I've never met anyone here at this hour, but there's always the possibility. And that's what draws us here, isn't it?

I stand by that big oak, my back to the path. My fingers tremble, but not from cold. I'm wearing that little skirt of mine, ohhh and these tights… and now here… right now…

I sit on the cold wood of the swing. I feel the roughness of it through the fabric. I spread my legs slowly, deliberately. My hands drift downward. I touch that material between my thighs and feel my heart pounding.

I'm the one doing this. Me!!!

I grab hard and pull. I hear that rasping of fabric, that tearing. It's a sound that seems as loud as thunder in this forest silence… the hissing of threads giving way under my pressure. I make myself an opening there. Deliberately. I want this.

Now I feel the air. Fresh, damp from the forest. It touches me there… I'm still dressed, but not really anymore… That contrast excites me, the skirt maintaining appearances…

I imagine how I look from the front. Covered, but ready. Exposed by my own hands…

Someone could walk by. Anyone. They'd see me sitting there with my legs spread, with that hole in my tights that I made myself. And then they'd know. They'd see it wasn't an accident, that I want to be seen.

My fingers wander. I feel through that torn hole…

The forest is quiet. But am I really alone?