They drove one behind the other to the Faurot Park lake across from the baseball diamond. Will got out, opened Rachel's door, took the hand she held out for assistance and kissed the back of it for five seconds with his eyes closed. Rachel had switched the heels back to the flats, and took only the red grapes out of the picnic basket. They stood motionless facing each other, not touching.
Rachel explained quietly, staring at his muscled chest, "I suggested we come here because I knew it would be crowded and wanted to gather myself in the open air with the danger of discovery preventing me from uncontrollable public displays of affection. When you kissed my hand just now I realized telling me we were live on national TV might not guarantee my behavior. So let's each slowly digest a grape at a time until we can get to the safety of those trees above the lake." She handed him a single grape and took one herself, allowing it to sit on her tongue.
Will, now regretting the choice of tight jeans to fake his youth, chuckled and asked, "Have you done this before, I mean the grape bit?"
"Are you calling me a fruit slut?" punching his stomach.
"Do you think anyone would notice if I kissed your face for an hour while we stood right here?"
"We need to get to the fucking trees."
The giving, receiving, and eating of a single grape at a time kept their hands and mouths busy and out of trouble. They walked through the Saturday crowd with a casual, unhurried air, like clever bank robbers who had the loot but didn't want to draw attention to themselves as they made their getaway. Soon into the shade of the woods they stole, Will taking the hand that had tossed the remaining grapes and running with her to a secluded grove where, leaning against an oak, he welcomed her into his embrace. Their kisses were hard with passion, soft with love, tenderly vicious, much more than either had ever imagined. Will interrupted the romance of the tryst by placing his right palm against her left breast, which she covered with her own to increase the pressure, then drawing his thumb across her engorged nipple and sliding his hand down, down along her body until it pressed between her legs, then rose slightly with a single finger etching a deep line up her middle. Rachel's knees buckled, she let out a deep sharp breath and collapsed onto his supporting left arm. Will had never loved any woman nearly as much as he did her at that moment.
"Let me do that for you."
"No, I'd be useless for too long. There's much more pleasure I need to give you."
"Need?"
"Yes."
Will ran his hands up under her dress, slipped the satin panties off her ass and hips, and threw them to her feet.
"They're brand new."
Will bent down to retrieve them, pausing on the way back up to take a quick lick between her naked thighs. He stuffed the panties in his front pocket, hoping they'd help camouflage his erection on the way back to the car, assuming it would still be necessary.
"You know, some men wear those things."
"Yes, but I'm not Jesse St. James."
"You're a wicked, wicked man, Will Schuester."
"I was once a good and honorable man. Then I met you."
"Tell it to the jury."
"Actually, I may have to."
The kissing resumed, but with both of his hands now up inside her dress and on her bare ass, it was pretty much all-out frowned-upon and strictly illegal sexual passion until her second orgasm.