It was a brilliant plan. Making love in a field of flowers. Romantic, right? Classy.

My cock snug in her tight, wet heat, she sits astride me now, deeply impaled as she grinds out her third huge orgasm, crying out in ecstasy as tears stream down my cheeks. Beautiful, radiant in the sunlight, she hungers for another, that I can tell, and in my misery I try desperately to please her. 

I thrust upward and she comes again, and this time I explode inside her in the midst of a massive sneeze. Who knew I was allergic to fuckin' poppies?