My Sunday walk

Hello, ma'am,

I hope you're well on these different days. Just an anecdote that should amuse you.

I'm lucky enough to live in the country. Last Sunday, I set off for a short ride, alone on my bike, along the country lanes. I stopped for a moment at the edge of a small wood, far enough away from everything, to take a breather. At that precise moment, you appear in my imagination - rather abruptly I must say, I didn't anticipate it at all!
You order me to take off my shoes and socks, and then to walk barefoot for a few meters over the wild grasses and twigs that assault the soles of my feet.
You stop me and order me to pull down my pants, then my underwear. First, you forbid me to touch my sex. I have to stay like this for a minute or two, with my dick hanging out.
You order me to jerk off, quickly, to cum as quickly as possible. I comply, worried about being seen by a stroller even though I know the area is very secluded. I ejaculate fairly quickly into my fingers. You make me lick them one by one.
You tell me to grab a leafy branch and whip my sex with it a good ten times, counting them, to punish this exhibitionist masturbatory extravagance.
At last I put on my clothes, got on my bike and resumed my Sunday stroll through the countryside. I couldn't resist you, you were there, and I did it without thinking.
Delicious moment. Thanks to you.

Letter from P.