Deep in the dark woods, something stirred. I knew instantly that I was growing a lovely erection.

Although it was only early November, my wife had requisitioned our kitchen to start her Christmas food preparations. The mincemeat was half made (I sneaked a tot of brandy as I passed through); the Christmas cake mix sat in a huge bowl on the table where I like to read the weekend newspapers; and a noisy electric mixer was pulverising numerous ingredients for the plum pudding.

Scooping up our two miniature dachshund dogs from their bed in front of the cooker, I announced grumpily that I was going to take them for a long walk in the woods. My wife didn't even look up from studying her cookery book.

Cameron's Wood was an easy three-mile drive along deserted country roads. When I pulled into the large gravelled car park I noted that there was only one other vehicle. Barring any cross-country ramblers we might encounter, the dogs and I would have the woods virtually to ourselves. They eagerly scampered off barking with delight at their outdoor freedom.

I let them run on ahead along the way-marked footpath, occasionally calling them to heel. All three of us slowed to a walking pace as we approached the large clearing I'd always called The Dell. Ringed by tall horse chestnut trees - now shedding the last of their ochre-red leaves - it was a near-perfect circle, today bathed in glorious winter sunshine. The dogs stood panting at my feet as I clipped a single lead to their two collars, ready for the return trek to the car park. All was quiet, but for the echoing cries of a circling flock of young crows high above the clearing.

But the scene in the centre of The Dell today was different. Very different. Across the clearing, a giant fallen tree - smooth and branchless - had long been used as a bench, where folk would sit and admire the beauty of the woodland scenery. Today it had two occupants. And as I began to discern their activity, I gingerly took a few steps back into the shadows, not wishing to be observed. The exhausted dachsies lay at my feet. 

Seated on the tree was a portly man in his mid-fifties, his bald head thrown back with sheer enjoyment. He was wearing a black lace camisole and black fishnet stockings attached to a scarlet suspender belt. A pair of black lace panties lay around his ankles. Kneeling on the ground in front of him was a gamine young woman. She had short cropped blonde hair, slender shoulders and a beautiful porcelain-white back. Across her shoulder blades was tattooed an eagle in flight and on each bicep she had entwined strands of barbed wire tatooed. She wore only a tiny pair of white cotton briefs, which barely covered the cheeks of her cute little bottom.

It was pretty obvious from their contortions that she was in the final stages of fellating the man on the log. Suddenly he raised his arms and placed them on her head, as if to signal to her to cease her ministrations. He was clearly close to climaxing. Bending forward he kissed her gently on the head and whispered something in her ear. She looked up, smiled and nodded. In half-profile I could clearly see the outline of her small breasts and nipples.

The man clumsily slid off the log. Taking his partner's hand he gestured towards a clump of bushes. As the younger person turned, I was surprised to see that it wasn't a nubile young woman after all! It was a youth, probably aged about 20.

They walked towards an opening in a hollow clump of bushes, the size of a large tent, with the old man guiding his companion into the dark bower by lightly pressing a hand on one of his buttocks.

I decided that while they were making themselves comfortable, I would have time to get the dogs back to the car. I ran, with one under each arm, returning to the clearing, breathless, in less than ten minutes. I cautiously approached the bushes, from which a gentle but very audible groaning was coming. I stood on the edge of the entrance, making sure I remained in the shadows.

Inside, the youth was on all fours, doggie-fashion and now stripped of his briefs, which lay in the leaves. Still in his black lingerie and with legs akimbo, the old man had mounted his young lover, grasping his slender hips firmly with his podgy hands. The boy whinnied gently, while the old man made lewd, gutteral grunts. He also began murmuring words which I couldn't quite make out. I moved closer. Which was when I felt my erection growing.

"Are you liking it, bitch? Are you liking my big thick cock up your sweet ass?"

"Oh yes, sir. Yes, I love it."

"Tell me again!"

"I so love to feel your fat cock inside me, sir."

"And?"

"And I can't wait for you to empty your balls and cover me with your lovely warm creamy spunk!"

The old man gripped the youth's hips even tighter. "Good girl!"

They silently fucked for several more minutes, during which time I had grown incredibly hard. And then the moment of climax came. The old man withdrew his cock to allow it to ejaculate two long ropes of semen down the other's arched back. The youngster screamed with delight as he felt the spunk splash onto his skin, while his lover gave a huge roar of sexual pleasure.

It was several minutes before they uncoupled and stood up. I took a couple of steps further back into the shadows, but was able to see the man pick up the boy's cotton briefs and wipe them down his spine, before nonchalantly tossing the soiled underwear into the bushes. Then hand-in-hand they walked off (still unashamedly semi-naked) towards the car park.

When I was sure they had gone, I entered the lovers' lair. The musky fragrance of sex still hung in the air. I picked up the spunk-sodden cotton briefs. They were still very damp and down the centre of the gusset there was also a tiny amber line, suggesting that the youth had wet himself with excitement when he was fellating the man. I rolled them up tight and put them in the pocket of my waterproof jacket.

The dogs were fast asleep in the back of the car when I returned and the other car had gone.

Alone in the empty car park, with dusk falling, I slipped out of my slacks and boxer shorts and nursed my erection to stiffness once more. A generous emission of pre-cum was going to provide the perfect home-made lube. Then I took the boy's cotton briefs from my pocket, briefly inhaled their heady aroma, then wrapped them loosely around my stiff cock, bandage-fashion. Within two minutes I had enjoyed a glorious orgasm, filling those soiled white knickers with another load of spunk.

With a smile, I gave my wife a peck on the cheek as I walked back into her Christmas kitchen and poured myself a large tot of brandy.

"My, you look pleased with yourself. The walk obviously did you good!"