Under the sprawling branches of an old oak tree, Cathy's delicate fingers wrap around the veiny shaft, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and excitement. She's never done this before, but there's a certain allure to the forbidden, to the taboo. She tentatively takes the tip into her mouth, her tongue exploring the unique texture, the slight saltiness. Her inexperience is evident, but her enthusiasm is infectious. She takes more of him in, her head moving up and down, her hand stroking the length she can't reach, creating a rhythm that makes his hips buck slightly, his hands tangling in her hair.