Dawn in the Meadow

I never expected to see her up here at five in the fucking morning. The mist clung to the tall grass like a secret, and the first pale light was just starting to bleed across the ridge. I'd hiked two hours in the dark for a chance at spotting a rare mountain thrush, binoculars heavy around my neck, thermos of coffee sloshing in my pack. Then I heard the soft click of a camera shutter and froze.

There she was. Elena. My biggest rival in the birding clubs for three straight years. The woman who'd beaten me to the regional rare-bird alert twice last season. She stood twenty yards away in tight hiking pants that hugged her ass like they were painted on, a fleece half-zipped over what looked like a thin tank top. Her dark hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, strands curling from the damp air.

She lowered her binoculars and our eyes locked. For a second neither of us moved. The meadow was dead quiet except for the distant call of some waking songbird.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said, voice low and husky from the early hour. "This is my spot, Marcus."

"Your spot? I mapped this meadow months ago." I took a step closer, boots sinking into the wet grass. The air smelled like pine and dew and something warmer. Her.

She smirked, that same smug little twist of her lips that always pissed me off at competitions. Only this morning it made heat pool low in my stomach. "Then why are you here alone? Scared I'll out-spot you again?"

I was close enough now to see the flush on her cheeks, the way her nipples had tightened against the thin fabric from the chill. My cock twitched hard inside my jeans. Fuck. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"Binoculars are useless in this mist anyway," I muttered, letting mine drop against my chest. My hands felt restless, palms suddenly sweaty.

Elena glanced down at the bulge forming in my pants, then back up. Her tongue darted across her lower lip. "Maybe we should find something better to do with our hands."

The words hung between us like a challenge. I closed the last gap, heart hammering. She didn't back away. Instead she reached out and grabbed the strap of my binoculars, yanking me into a kiss that tasted like coffee and pure want.

Our mouths crashed together, hot and messy. She moaned softly into me as my hands slid under her fleece, finding warm skin. "God, you're freezing," I whispered against her lips.

"Then warm me up," she breathed, nipping at my bottom lip. Her fingers worked my belt open with surprising speed. "I've wanted to shut you up like this for years."

I laughed, a rough sound, and pushed her fleece off her shoulders. It hit the damp grass. Her tank top followed a second later, revealing full, perfect breasts with dark nipples begging for attention. I cupped one, thumb circling the stiff peak, and she arched into my palm with a sharp gasp.

"Fuck, Marcus... yes." Her hand dove into my open jeans and wrapped around my cock, stroking me from root to tip. Precum already leaked over her fingers. She squeezed harder. "You're so thick. I knew you'd feel like this."

We sank down together into the soft meadow, the mist swirling around our bodies as the sun finally crested the ridge and painted everything gold. I peeled her hiking pants down her long legs, taking her panties with them. Her pussy was shaved smooth except for a neat little landing strip, lips already glistening. The scent of her arousal mixed with the earthy smell of crushed grass.

I buried my face between her thighs without thinking. She cried out, fingers tangling in my hair.

"Oh shit... right there. Lick my clit, you smug bastard." Her hips bucked against my tongue as I sucked that swollen little nub, tasting her sweet musk. Two fingers slid into her tight pussy, curling up to find that spongy spot that made her thighs shake. She was soaking my hand already.

"Don't stop... fuck, I'm gonna come if you keep doing that." Her voice cracked. I didn't stop. I licked and sucked until her back arched hard and she came with a loud, broken moan that echoed across the meadow. Her pussy clenched around my fingers in rhythmic pulses, fresh wetness flooding my palm.

She was still panting when she pushed me onto my back. The rising sun warmed my skin as she straddled me, gripping my cock and rubbing the head along her slick folds.

"Look at me," she ordered, eyes dark with lust. "I want to watch your face while I take every inch."

Then she sank down. We both groaned as her hot, tight pussy swallowed me whole. She was so wet I slid in easily, but she was still incredibly snug. Her inner walls fluttered around my shaft.

"Holy fuck," I gasped, hands gripping her hips. "You're squeezing me so good."

Elena started riding me slowly at first, grinding her clit against my pelvis with every roll of her hips. Her breasts bounced in the golden light, nipples hard as pebbles. "Your cock feels amazing... stretching my pussy just right. Deeper, baby. I need it deeper."

I thrust up to meet her, the wet slap of our bodies loud in the quiet dawn. She leaned forward, bracing her hands on my chest, and started bouncing faster. Her ponytail had come loose; dark hair spilled over her shoulders like a curtain.

"I'm close again," she panted, voice getting higher. "Fill me up, Marcus. I want to feel you come inside me."

Her words pushed me over the edge. I gripped her ass hard, fingers digging into soft flesh, and fucked up into her with short, desperate strokes. My balls tightened.

"Fuck... Elena... I'm coming." I buried myself to the hilt as my cock pulsed, shooting thick ropes of cum deep into her spasming pussy. She came right after me, crying out my name, her walls milking every last drop from my shaft.

We stayed locked together as the sun climbed higher, breathing hard, bodies slick with sweat and morning dew. She collapsed onto my chest, pressing a lazy kiss to my collarbone.

"Truce?" she whispered, a smile in her voice.

I laughed softly, running my fingers through her tangled hair. "Truce. But next time we bring a blanket. This grass is fucking itchy."

She giggled against my skin, pussy still gently clenching around my softening cock. Somewhere above us, the mountain thrush finally sang.