|Blogs > deanc56 > The Lonely Hunter|
I don't know what it is about walking in the woods with a woman that I find so erotic. I think I don't want to explore that too deeply -- I might learn something about myself I didn't want to know.
It's best on a day when the smell of Fall is in the air. You know the one -- that sharp hint of frost that promises cold weather to come, but not yet. The feel of a woman's rock-hard nipple beneath a soft, well-washed flannel shirt just about makes me bust my zipper. Lying together on a blanket still fully clothed is just almost unbearable.
The act itself is exquisite. Ideally, there is enough chill in the air to keep up going for a long, long time without overheating. Afterwards, we can roll up in the blanket together to keep from getting chilled. The fullness and contentment of those moments is justification for living just by themselves.
Maybe I'm just weird. Well, OK, I AM weird, but maybe this is more unusual than my normal weirdness, I don't know. All I know is that birds singing, trees whispering their sleepy secrets to the breeze, and the warmth of human contact among the beauty of nature is something I yearn for, the archetypical return to Eden's innocence, maybe.
Why do we allow ourselves to fall out of touch with these primal feelings as we grow older? Too deep for me or for a blog. I'm now ready for my "Return to Innocence".