It was not, by most standards, a perfect day for a picnic. It was rather on the windy side, and cool when clouds blocked the sun as they frequently did. But company picnics were ponderous things to schedule, and it had been decided to go ahead and have the picnic anyway. After all, so long as the clouds stayed light and didn’t bring rain with them, it wasn’t a bad day for a picnic.

In fact, Kelly found that there were some advantages to it. Namely, when the sun went behind a cloud and the wind picked up, it was a prime excuse for the cougar to cuddle in against John under the blanket they shared, and the otter was quite happy to gather her in close. If this hadn’t been her first chance to see him since her departure on a two-week trip for that same company, she’d actually have thought it was a pretty good day for a picnic after all.

A few other couples kissing and cuddling and generally being romantic with each other did not make the delay in their proper reunion any easier to bear. Oh, well. At least the speeches were done, the bosses were gone, and now they could enjoy each other’s company. And the food, if she decided she had enough room when the desserts got served.

“You’d think they could have brought you home a day earlier or something,” John sighed over her ears. “Given you some time to relax and unwind. Or at least enough time to pick out a change of clothes, instead of me bringing something to the airport for you.”

“You did fine, hon,” she assured him, planting a kiss on his jaw. “Better than me trying to cram changes of clothes for every possibility of the weather into my suitcase.” Then she smirked. “Though if I’d done that, what do you think the odds would’ve been that this would all have been rained out? Maybe I should have.”

“Nah.” He nuzzled at her nearest ear. “You know how it goes, if you’re trying to invite rain it never happens. That or it wouldn’t have rained enough.

“At least you’d have been comfortable,” Kelly teased, giving a squeeze to his thigh. He just chuckled and rubbed along her arm.

With conversation at a lull, she pushed her snout in against the side of his neck, taking a deep whiff of his scent. Oil, a touch of musk, sharply floral soaps, and a bit of something spicy, all over something simply and essentially male. Had he changed something recently?  He smelled absolutely delicious, and not like the food had. She traded hands, wound the arm nearest to him around his shoulders, and gripped his firm thigh a little harder, quivering just a little as the muscle shifted under her fingers.

Damn, she’d been looking to giving that body of his a workout. Her fingers crept along his leg, exploring what social obligation kept her from seeing, reacquainting herself with it. She could remember all too clearly that last night before he’d driven her to the airport, when he’d stood in the bedroom doorway, one hand up at the top corner of the frame, gloriously naked and hard. He wasn’t the biggest man downstairs, especially not for being over six and a half feet, but damn, he could show it off. And it had been way too long since that night, the last time she’d had a chance to see, feel, and taste him…

Oh, to hell with the picnic. They were downwind of the crowd – come to think of it, some of what she was smelling was canine, not John at all, and had a whiff of sex to it; it was probably someone else’s discreet misbehaviour that was so getting to her. No more speeches to worry about, nobody heading their way to trap them in chatter. And while she ached to hear him in full voice as he filled her… past experience had taught her that he could be quiet, much more so than her, if there was some need to be considerate of others. She couldn’t do better than keeping her whimpers stifled, when he got her going; he could replace his groans entirely with an eloquent catch in his breath.


Her fingers slid upward, over his board shorts. She’d chuckled a little, when he’d arrived looking like he was dressed for the beach, or at least a sunnier day than they’d got; but she was glad of it when she felt the outline of his cock through the thin fabric.

He clutched her a little closer, trembling, a warm breath wafting over her ears. “Kelly…” It wasn’t a query, that whisper, nor an admonishment. No, he was just filling the air with her name.

Trust him to make such a simple, percussive sort of name sound so musical. And that was just a whisper. When he moaned it, he could practically make her come on the spot.

For now, though, she could wait, so long as she could get a sampling of his pleasure.

She tugged the blanket up a little higher, up to their chests, then got that arm around his shoulders again. It was a nice, thick blanket; even knowing what she was up to, she couldn’t tell that her hand was moving by sight alone. It might have been resting on his hip, with his atop it, instead of kneading the soft warmth of his cock while his hand slid under her ass. Even when that ridge started to grow firm under her fingers, there was no obvious sign.

And if his breath was a little hotter, a little heavier than usual over her ears, the only thing that showed was that he was nuzzling at her ears. Nothing untoward about that.

His cock kept rising under her fingers, until it strained against the fabric and his pulse was heavy in the tightening skin. Slowly, delicately, and discreetly, she tugged at the drawstring of his shorts, pulled the knot loose, and slid her fingers under the waistband, gathering up warm, firm, and wonderfully slippery flesh. Otters, she thought, hiding a smirk against his neck; they only ever needed lube for anal, if that. Certainly not for the light strokes she gave him, once she’d got his cock free to run up along his stomach instead of down one leg of his shorts. Not that that hard ridge had been unpleasant for her to feel, and if she knew him half as well as she thought, he found some enjoyment in it too; but right now, she wanted to dance her fingers along his hot pole, to feel his copious pre slicking her pads.

Discreetly, almost absently, he produced a few tissues from somewhere and tucked them under the blanket, under his waistband a little farther over. Close enough for when there was need – which, by the raggedness of his breaths, wasn’t going to be long; she certainly wasn’t the only one who’d been anticipating their reunion.

As though nothing unusual were going on, he sat up, propping a cushion under the small of his back, and tugged her in against him. Such a simple thing, but keeping the blanket tight meant she suddenly had much more room to work, to grip his cock full around, to slide her hand along it – still slowly, but he was wonderfully sensitive; he didn’t need her to hammer along his cock. No, a few slow, light strokes, careful to pay plenty of attention to the crown of his glans, then a bit of a diversion down over his snug balls and just behind them…

One of those wonderful hitches in his breathing, coupled with a tiny nip to the edge of her ear, alerted her; she slid her hand back up, tugging the tissues into her palm on the way. He was tensing against her even as she cupped her hand over his cockhead; and then he shivered, sighing over her ears, as he shot into her handful of tissue.

This close, the smell of it, musky and rich and pungently masculine, was inescapable. And she could feel the wetness of his spunk against her palm by the time he started to relax. God, he must have shot a lot – even for him.

If only she’d been in a position to duck her head down and taste it…

John chuckled over her ears, giving a light squeeze to her rump. “You’re evil,” he murmured.

She grinned up at him. “Going to put me in my place later?”

“If ‘your place’ is ‘nailed to the mattress,’ definitely,” the otter breathed.

Kelly shivered hard, and wondered how soon they could escape.