Mushroom Hunting And The Birch
I don’t much like mushrooms — forced to eat too many as a little kid — but I think I could enjoy this sort of mushroom hunting:
Sunday, M. made sure that we had some serious time off, and took us out for a walk in the woods, on a mostly fruitless mushroom hunt. About twenty minutes in, though, he had me take off all my clothes, keep the backpack on, and carried on as though it was perfectly normal to lead your wife around on a leash, naked, out in the woods. He of course tied me to a tree and gave me a proper birching, which stung and burned like a mother fucker.
And of course there is a picture:
I always outdoor shots and the colder air makes the nipples stand proud.