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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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I remember it being a hot summers day. I remember being stood at the bar, waiting for her to arrive. I checked my watch repeatedly as the afternoon ran away from me and the sweat ran even faster under my T shirt along my flesh. She was late. Waiting made me nervous.
I remember sitting at a table out of the way deliberately in an effort to find a seductive spot. A space to romance, to talk sweetly, and to talk freely. I took deep meditative breaths occasionally to calm myself down. And I talked to myself too. Neither of these things were attractive things to be caught doing by your date when she first walks in and scans for you and yet there I was. Doing them. Reflecting on how unattractive it would look like to be taking deep breaths, talking to myself while holding on extremely tightly to my pint glass did make me worry that she might come in, see me and walk out again. The thing about dating via dating apps is actually that as long as your pictures are real, the attraction will almost certainly be there in real life. But again, here I was looking like a [redacted] head having a bad, sweaty trip on a hot summers day worrying that she won’t find me attractive.
Anyway, then she arrived. And then we locked eyes. And smiled involuntarily. God it was hot. My thirst, which I thought was quenched by my cold pint of stout, had returned to me like a boomerang. I bought drinks for us both- Gin for the lady, another stout for myself- and we took a gulp and dove straight into it. We talked and flirted, smiled and smirked for a few hours. The time continued to run away from me, but this time from the enjoyment of company. Her dress was very short and very green. It covered little more than half of her thigh and the exposed, smooth, tattooed flesh invited my eyes to look. Her leg swung back and forth next to mine as she sat looking suggestively at me. Melting in the heat, I sipped more regularly from my glass which allowed glances down at the thigh that seduced me. I scanned up her thigh to her stomach, and slowly further up to her breasts, hugged by the fabric of her dress. Her breasts looked soft like the clouds my head was floating amongst. Her neck, exposed to me, looked longingly like it wanted to be kissed. Her lips looked soft and moist as she spoke. I wanted to kiss them. I wanted to bite them gently, the way she did occasionally while listening to me speaking. She moved her short red hair out of her face on occasion in such an elegant way that it fucked up my train of thought.
Im on my third drink and I suggest we go for a stroll, to talk more intimately and to keep my thoughts from wandering about. As we left the pub and walked side by side we caught eyes and smiled. So I remember stopping and grabbing her by the hand, an action greeted by another smirk and a soft moan. I pulled her into me and I kissed her urgently. She moaned into my mouth as her tongue slithered slowly against mine.
We walked for some time to the park and around it, Holding hands, Giggling like school kids as we did. And then we came to this tree. It was chunky. Solid. It was shaded by the branches and leaves which hung low. So low in fact that as she guided me toward it we had to duck down to avoid the leaves against our faces. I asked where she was taking me and she replied - somewhere private- which was funny given we roamed a public albeit empty, park. She pushed me against the base of the tree. Thud. And then she pulled me back toward her by my shirt and she kissed me. Her spare hand ran up my shirt and stroked my sweaty flesh gently. I groaned with pleasure. She bit my lip. She kissed my neck. She slid her tongue into my mouth. She had me at her mercy. Hands running wild along the plaines of my body, She reached my nipples and she ran in circular, slow motions until they were erect. At this point they weren’t the only things that were erect. I winced and moaned expletives softly under my breath. She searched hurriedly for my cock but still it felt in time and not rushed. Patient. Deliberate. She undid the zip to my shorts and fiddled for my throbbing cock. My cock was desperate to be free from the confines of tight chino shorts and even tighter boxer shorts. And then it was. She sat me down and straddled me. She gently placed her hands on my torso before letting all of her weight fall onto me and my cock was suffocated once again by fabric. But this time by the fabric of her knickers. She looked to the heavens and cursed to the deity residing up there. Her breasts jiggled like jelly. They were also desperate to be released. I could tell. At this point I am literally begging to fuck her. ‘I need to fuck you. I need it. Please.’ And she doesn’t for a second stop grinding on me. Her knickers are warm but also damp. It’s all rather erotic. I remember being so turned on that I literally forgot that in that moment, we were suddenly not private.
‘So, are you going to take me home and fuck me then?’ I remember her asking after she came into her knickers, astride me. ‘Fuck. Yes please’ I managed.  |
