It is a brilliant sunny day and we are walking idly, hand in hand. It will soon be time for me to go and we are trying to make the most of the passing hours. We are at the county fair, admiring the floral displays, sampling the traditional foods and beers, and giggling as we speculate on how long it will be before the high mannered woman with the perfect nose and fine stud roan grabs the buxom blond country girl slopping out the stall and pulls her into a pile of golden hay.

We wander out, revelling in the warm air and honey scent of the meadow, moving away from the picnickers and snogging youth. I pause, drop your hand and turn, moving off toward the dark stand of the surrounding forest.

"Where are you going?" you ask, standing still where I left you.

"I feel the need to pee, pet."

"The toilets are over there," you say, pointing past your left shoulder.

"I know, but they are far and the trees are near. Besides, I like the open-air..."

I turn at the field's edge, raise my hand and curl a finger, beckon you to come. You catch up and we move further in, stopping at a little hidden sunlit oasis in the mossy grove. I turn and face you.

"Open my pants and lower them."

You move forward, looking up into my face, as your hands undo my buckle and zipper. You kneel, sliding my pants down, your fingers caressing my legs as they descend. When they have reached the ground, I step out and you set them carefully aside. You turn back and look up slowly, following the line of my inner leg and thigh and stopping at my cunt. You hold for a long second, take a ragged breath, then look up into my face, questioning.

"Stay"

Stepping close, I squat down, splaying my legs. I reach out and put one of your hands on each knee. Your eyes lower, as I run my fingers through the thick curls on my mons before reaching lower and spreading my labia open. I feel your hands squeeze as you whimper and look back up. I look hard into your smouldering eyes and let a quick, sharp stream of pee out to splatter in the soft earth.

I pause, holding, then take your right hand, pull it between my legs, and peel it open beneath me. I let out another small stream into your open hand this time, the warm piss pooling and dripping between your fingers. You breathe in sharply and let back out a throaty groan.

"Taste it."

"What? Taste..."

"Taste it!"

And you bring your shaking hand up to your mouth. I can see you breathe in its sharp scent and then your tongue slide out, dragging wantonly across your palm with a deeper, longer groan, eyes clamped shut, as you savour the warm, salty, nastiness of your action. You drop your hand back down, cupped now, and I fill it once again. You raise it to your mouth to drink, while your other moves between your legs, pressing in hard through your thin summer dress.

"Wait. Raise your dress, show me."

You mew in protest, but obey and gather up your dress, tucking it into your belt. You lean back, displaying your beautiful cunt swollen and pink, its grace of surrounding curls glistening in the sunlight.

"Now, my darling, enjoy your pleasure."

And you begin again, a wet hand cupped over your mouth, a hand stroking and circling your fat pearly clit, eyes fixed ahead at my cunt, swaying and moaning. I wait for you, wait till your moans become a long, strangled scream. Then I let myself go, pissing a fast, hard, golden stream into the ground between your knees, droplets splattering your pale white thighs.

You quake and tremble, frozen in place, then pitch forward into me. I hold you close, inhaling your sweaty scent, whispering love into your ear. I tip you back to look at your glowing face and half-closed eyes.

"Ah, voiding oneself in the English countryside, my pet! Nothing at all quite like it," I whisper with a smile and bend to kiss you deeply.

We rise, you and I, brushing away the leaves and moss. Your knees are a touch muddy now, but I tell you to leave it, a memento of a glorious afternoon.