Second Breakfast by Xavier Acton

I never should have let her walk in front of me. From the first step my eyes were fixed on her ass, and two miles out I just couldn’t take it any more.

We were lucky, I guess. It was almost — but not quite — off-season, just a few weeks after the weather had started to turn. This part of the Appalachian Trail was impassable all winter, and the tourists planned their trips for later in the Spring. The trail was all but deserted, and I had no company on our hike except for Serena’s ass, taunting me from inside her too-snug hiking shorts.

She always wears her pants kind of tight. I’ve never been able to get a straight answer from her as to whether it’s a bona-fide preference, comfort-wise, or if she just likes the way my eyes glom on to her derriere when I see it in skintight cotton, spandex or silk. If there was any chance Serena was going to leave that trail without a rim-job, it was shattered the moment she selected those hiking shorts.

They were pale khaki, sort of a sandstone color. They were short — very short. I could see the legs of her spandex cycling shorts under the hem of each leg, as if she was trying to remind me her ass was there. With her narrow hips and slight but round behind, Serena looks like the athlete she is. Hiking the Appalachian trail, ten rough miles a day, was just one more in a series of athletic challenges we’d enjoyed together.

But right then, two hours after sunup, I had another challenge in mind: How to get my tongue buried deep between Serena’s cheeks. I spotted a little path leading off to one side, behind a copse of bushes.

“I think it’s time for a break,” I said.

“What are you talking about?” she answered, not even turning around. “We’ve only been going for an hour. ”

“It’s time for a break,” I repeated, and grabbed her shoulder. She stopped, turned, and after a quizzical look she followed my eyes to the little path, gleaning my intentions without even so much as a wink, nod or hubba-hubba.

“Already?”

“Already,” I said. “You shouldn’t have worn those shorts.”

I could see the little shiver go through her; Serena knows well what my tongue can do to her ass. She knows that my happiest place is kneeling behind her, my tongue exploring her cleft as she moans.

“Late breakfast,” I said.

“Second breakfast,” she corrected. “We already ate.”

I smiled. “As I recall,” I said, “you were the one who did the eating.”

In such circumstances, Serena rarely blushes, but she did this time, no doubt remembering the way my cock had felt in her mouth as she blessed me with a sunrise blowjob to quell my morning wood.

She put her arms around me and kissed me gently. “Now you’re hungry?”

I reached around her and grabbed her ass, squeezing her cheeks firmly through the thin cotton shorts.

“Famished,” I said. “Get out the blanket.”

Serena turned away from me and danced onto the side trail with a pixyish sense about her movements. “I’m filthy,” she said. “We’ve been on the trail for six days without a bath. You can’t possibly want to–”

“It’s all right,” I said. “I’ve got a filthy mouth.”

Reaching the tiny clearing behind the bushes, Serena shrugged off her backpack and began to unstrap the blanket. “Oh, look,” she said, leaning over and picking up a condom wrapper. “Someone else likes the off-season, too.”

“Litterbugs,” I growled, plucking the wrapper from her hand and putting it in my pocket. “These motherfuckers should learn to take only pictures and leave only footprints.”

“You do have a dirty mouth,” she said, flicking her hands and laying the blanket on the hard dirt.

“Find out,” I told her. “Take off your shorts.”

Serena’s eyes found mine and held them as she unbuckled her web belt and wriggled out of her shorts, pulling khakis and undershorts down in one smooth movement. Her pussy was untrimmed from the long trip, and I knew when I got close its smell would be strong — hardly a deterrent for one such as me. Without removing her hiking boots, she pulled the shorts over her ankles and deposited them in a heap.

“Down,” I said, grabbing her and hooking my leg behind hers. Serena yelped as I dropped her to her knees, catching her at the last minute so she didn’t bruise anything. I pushed her forward. “Hands and knees,” I told her, and she obeyed, positioning herself doggy-style on the blanket.

Lifting her ass high, she presented herself for me. I’d spent the last hour imagining her ass before me, and now I couldn’t wait. I knelt behind her and pressed my mouth between her cheeks, smelling the sharp aroma of her pussy and ass, so filthy and unwashed from hiking.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” she moaned softly. “I mean, I’m so dirty….”

“There’s a news flash,” I said, and slipped my tongue into her parted cleft. She gasped and then whimpered, pushing her ass more firmly against my face. She was indeed unwashed; I could taste her ass more strongly than ever. But I wouldn’t have dreamed of letting six days on the trail dissuade me, and I began to draw my tongue in little circles around her asshole, my hand slipping between her legs to stroke her clit.

“Fuck,” she moaned. “That feels good.”

My tongue came away from her succulent asshole. “You’re wet,” I said as I eased two fingers into her. “You’ve been wanting this too.”

“You know how I get when you put your cock in my mouth,” she sighed. “I was hoping you’d want a second breakfast.”

I forced my tongue into her asshole with growing fervor, and Serena stopped her smart-ass comments almost immediately. My thumb worked her clit while I fucked her pussy with my fingers, and I pushed her forward so I could more effectively fuck her ass with my tongue. The taste was more intense than I’d ever experienced, but something about it made my cock incredibly hard. I vividly remembered Serena’s mouth pumping it hungrily first thing in the morning, and my mouth mimicked on her asshole the attention she’d lavished on my cock.

Serena leaned forward on her elbows, pushed up her sports bra and began to play with her teacup-sized tits. I could tell she was close already; I worked her clit and pussy faster as I drove my tongue deep into her. If she was worried about other hikers discovering us, she wasn’t showing it. Her moans rose in pitch and soon she was pushing back onto me, fucking herself onto my hand and tongue as she pinched her nipples.

Instinctively, I was grinding my hips and rubbing my cock against the front of my own shorts. For the first time I wished they were tighter, because I was getting close myself.

“I’m going to come,” breathed Serena, and I fucked her faster, licking deeper into her ass in long slow thrusts between circular swirls around her entrance. I felt her pussy contracting around my fingers, and the tremors reached her asshole an instant later.

She gasped as she came, then let out a long, low groan of release as her asshole clenched around my thrusting tongue. She slumped forward, her thighs spread wide, her exposed breasts flat against the blanket, her arms thrust out in helpless abandon.

As she finished coming, I put my tongue as deep into her ass as it would go and savored the last contractions of her intense orgasm.

I licked my way up Serena’s back and kissed the place where her shoulder met her throat. As I stretched myself out on top of her, she felt the hardness of my cock pressing through my pants, against the delicious ass I’d just savored.

She reached between us and wrapped her fingers around my cock, clutching it through the cotton of my shorts. They were already dampened by pre-come.

“It looks like you want a third breakfast,” said Serena. “Or maybe an early lunch?”

“Why not both?” I said.

“We’ll never make our ten miles if we keep stopping,” she said.

“Then let’s not stop,” I told her, and she reached for my belt buckle.

About the author:

Xavier Acton has written for Gothic.net and Sweet Life and Sweet Life 2. He lives in San Francisco and is at work on a horror novel and more erotic short stories.

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