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The next day was another typical English April day, damp and still cold so there weren’t many people about. I head towards the cafe and, walking around the corner of the building, I see her sitting on a bench about 50 metres ahead. The instant she spotted me she stood and walked away, following the path bordering the lake. I followed.
And as I followed I thought about how this strange relationship was developing. Non-verbal communication, so far. Quick sex, so far. No contact except for the sex, so far. No names, so far. Once I’d thought it through, it was quite a simple game really. And one I decided I was quite happy to play.
And so I just followed her, keeping that 50m gap, to wherever she wanted to go.
The trail followed the edge of the lake and then branched off into the woods, it was quite wet underfoot but, after something like 10 minutes walking, the path turned into a wooden walkway, with waist high handrails on both sides, that weaved through the trees about two feet above the ground. After a further 5 minutes the bends began to get closer together until you couldn’t see more than 3 metres in either direction. Seemed a good spot to admire the scenery.
And she clearly thought the same, I step around the next bend and there she is, leaning back against the railing with her hands in her jacket pockets, feet slightly spread, her eyes fixed on me. She watches me approach with those sparkling eyes and that familiar lopsided smile. I stop centimetres from her, right in her space, she doesn’t flinch, her expression doesn’t change. I lean in, kiss her.
I explore her face with my lips, put one hand on her thigh the other on the railing, start to scratch and rub at the front of her jeans, the tops of her legs, lower tummy and between her thighs. We stop kissing but stand with our foreheads together she with both hands now gripping my shoulders.
I concentrate more and more between her thighs, the drag of my nails creating quite a vibration through the denim, sometimes drawing a line from between her thighs right up the front and over her clit, other times just short little scratches over her pussy. Sometimes just one nail slowly dragging other times three or four fingers strumming quickly back and forth.
A few minutes of this and I begin to see and feel the effect it is having on her: her head drops onto my shoulder, her grip on my shoulders increases and she is struggling to support her own weight: I’m having to hold her against the railing. A few seconds more and she loses it all together: legs collapse and begin to shake, thighs squeeze together, her nails dig into my shoulders pulling me against her and she groans at the back of her throat.
It takes her quite a few minutes to even begin to get her senses back, but once she can keep her feet I step back a little and undo the belt and button on her jeans, tug the zip down.
Taking hold of her hips I spin her around so that she is facing the railing and her back is towards me, she still isn’t quite sure what’s happening but it begins to register when I drag her jeans and knickers down to the tops of her boots.
Her bum is round and firm, tinged pink from the cold air. I grab a buttock in each hand, squeeze them. Groan aloud, want to push my face between them; no time.
I nudge her forward so that her hips came up against the railing. She grabs the railing with both hands and looks back at me, I pause for the briefest of moments and lock eyes, she bites her bottom lip, looks down.
Unfastening my own jeans I push them and my boxers down, my released cock bumps against her arse. I take hold of it and rub the head up and down the crack of her arse, my hot skin against her now cold bum, push it between her thighs, rubbing across the slight scratch of her pubic hair and the hot wet lips of her pussy, press it against her, pull it back out, push back in, she squeezes escort ataşehir her thighs around me, traps me against her sex, I drag it back out, her thighs and my cock getting slick with her juices.
I bend my knees, angle upwards, guide it with my hand, a slight adjustment, search for her entrance, push up parting her lips, push further.
And that was the first time I heard her utter anything whilst in my company and it was just a simple, soft “Oooooh,” as I enter her body.
I grip her hips, push myself into her, centimetre by centimetre. She bends forward a little, made the angle easier, halfway in and I pause, pull nearly all the way out. Then back in, a bit further each time. She’s tight: her jeans are only just below her knees; and that tightness, coupled with the squeeze from her thighs and the scratch of her pubic hair all added to the intensity of the sensations flickering through my groin.
And then there’s all the other stimulus: being outside, the cold air, a new fuck, the possibility of being caught! And the look of her bent over the railing, her arse getting redder and redder as my hips smack into them, even her hands gripping the railing.
This was turning into an outstanding fuck!
And that’s what I was doing, fucking her! Long strokes, cock nearly popping out to balls slapping against her thighs, then if I felt the sensations becoming too much I slowed right down and ground against her ass; change the angle and rub my cock against the walls of her pussy then, when I felt back in control, back to long strokes, sometimes fast sometimes slow.
Trouble was, those times of feeling in control were getting shorter and shorter. The tightness of her pussy didn’t help but, all that other stimulus, all heightened the excitement.
But I need not have worried, she was getting close too, very close. Her own pushing back was getting more frantic, she was reaching back trying to get hold of me, really gripping the railing with the other hand. A hand that I suddenly saw bore a wedding ring! Wow, she was married! That certainly explained some things. Not that I was going to think about it at this particular moment.
And it was time, I was pounding into her, hips really slapping against her, cock thrusting in and out. Her head was down, she’d got hold of my jacket and was repeatedly pulling me against her, urging me on.
She cried out, her pussy turned to liquid, her legs started shaking again. And that was me: I came, I came like I’ve rarely cum before: my rhythm completely gone, knees buckling, my balls and arse tingling, gasping for air. I could feel it pulsing down my cock, each uncertain thrust against her ass pumped another jet into her pussy until there was no more.
And that’s how we stood for at least a couple of minutes, breathless, shaking, her bent over the railing, me bent over her with my cock buried up to the hilt in her dripping pussy.
And just at the point where we began to get ourselves together, that’s when we heard it, through the fog of sex, the unmistakable sound of women’s voices and the drum of a babies pushchair wheels across the wood of the walkway, and they were close.
Stepping apart. Frantic pulling up of knickers and boxers and jeans, tucking everything in, trying to fasten belts, stepping one way then the next, trying not to laugh.
And we just made it, but only just, almost but not quite caught, and they must have guessed, they looked like they’d guessed as I passed them; she’d set off in the opposite direction whilst I had decided that the two of us together wouldn’t have been what she would have wanted, and would have been far too obvious. I still looked pretty dishevelled but at least I wasn’t still bent over her gorgeous round ass with my cock buried to my hips inside her hot, tight, wet pussy.
I got to the first bench and kadıköy escort decided that I couldn’t just leave it like that. I got my phone out and found her number, selected text:
“You ok?” a pause and I imagined her trying to decide whether or not to ignore it.
“Yeah, but that was close!”
“Ha, was a bit.”
“Do you think they heard anything?”
“Probably, hard not to.”
That response made me smile, “I’m very happy that you said that.”
Another pause, “You ok with this?”
“Relationship. The way this relationship is going.”
I had decided that I was very happy with the way this relationship was going, “Very! It’s different, exciting, exhilarating, stimulating, sexual, and you are fucking hot!”
Quite a long wait after that one, then, “Wow, I don’t think I am but thank you 🙂 and you are a real find. Your words are spot on, I will add one of my own and then I have to go.”
This had been a last minute thing, I’d been walking back to the car when I’d seen a poster for it: Music in the Park. And it was for that evening in my local park; I’d been to a couple the previous summer and this must be the first of the season now that it was starting to warm up and the evenings were getting lighter.
So I decided to give it a go; didn’t even need to drive, a fifteen minute walk should see me there. I just needed a blanket to sit on and something to eat and drink.
I arrived at the park around an hour before dusk, enough time to find somewhere to sit before it got too dark.
I chose a spot against a tree, on a shallow slope at the back of where most people were sitting, but outside the main throng and the pool of light from all the goings on, also gave me an unobstructed view of the stage across everybody’s heads. There were other people around me but, as it got towards sunset, those with younger children began to leave, thinning the crowd.
I’d been there about twenty minutes listening to the music and watching the goings on when I saw her, in the last of the daylight, my cinema encounter walking along the path below me heading towards the main crowd. She was concentrating on where she was going, not looking around, not looking in my direction.
Hadn’t seen her dressed like this before: in a loose mid-calf length skirt and baggy sweater, but it was definitely her. I contemplated texting her: what would she think, would it be too much, it was over a week since our excursion into the park and she hadn’t been in touch since, but then she had seemed fine when we’d last ‘spoken’ so what the hell.
I took my phone out and began to text.
“Just seen you.”
I’d lost sight of her in the crowd and gloom but I’d followed her direction. A few minutes passed.
“Really? You in the park?”
“Yep, you’ve just walked passed me.”
A few more minutes, “You alone?”
“Yes, all on my lonesome.”
More minutes of thought, “Can I visit?”
“:-) yes please.”
“Where are you?”
“Walk back to the path and turn left along it, I’ll look out for you.”
“On my way.”
“:-) but can’t stay too long.”
A couple of minutes later and, “On the path.” And there she was, almost below me with the lit screen of her phone lighting her face.
“Gotcha, turn right now and walk up the bank, sat against the first tree.”
She immediately stopped walking and looked up, and even though she obviously couldn’t see me in the last of the light, she turned up the bank and walked directly towards the first tree.
At the last moment I touched my phone screen so that it illuminated my face, she stopped and grinned, looking down at me sitting against my tree.
I almost said something but managed not to. I spread my legs, she paused, looked around; maltepe escort bayan hard to see but hardly anybody left out here on the periphery of it all, certainly nobody within 10 metres. She thought about it, then, turning around she settled herself between my legs, sat back against my chest.
I don’t hesitate, put my hands on her thighs, stroke up and down through her skirt then push under her sweater, fingertips gently stroking her stomach, from her skirt waistband up to her bra, drifting up and down her warm skin, slipping in and out of her tummy button, round her sides, up, skirting around her bra then up to her shoulders, across her upper chest, pushing up the front of her throat then reversing direction back down onto her upper chest and back out to her shoulders.
My fingers trail down the sides of her bra, underneath and cup her, gently squeeze. Roll my thumb across her nipples, feel them stiffen.
Mmmmm, nice boobs; lovely curve, heavy, firm, fat nipples.
Her breathing deepens as I pinch her nipples through the fabric. Pinch them between my fingers.
Her head drops back onto my shoulder, hands onto my legs.
I can just see that she has closed her eyes.
Thumbs loop under her bra straps stroking across the soft skin of her upper breasts, fingernails scratching across the fabric over her erect nipples. Her breathing starts to get a little ragged as her nerve endings begin to react, small tremors ripple through her body.
Kissing the back of her ear one hand slides down to her hip, searches for and finds the zip to her skirt. Taking hold of the tag I tease it down to its full extent, slip my hand inside onto her warm lower tummy.
Fingers push under her knicker elastic, touch the crinkly bush of hair, spread to cover her. Middle finger rubs across the bump above her clit, down the centre of her puffy outer lips, a dampness already there.
Press the length of my finger in, rub up and down, gently squeezing her lips between three fingers whilst at the same time massaging her already sticky inner lips. The dampness increases and the heat builds against my hand, her breathing starts to get a little ragged and her head once more drops back onto my shoulder.
Middle finger sinks in, she groans at the back of her throat, push in as far as I can. Left hand pushes up under her bra to cover her right breast, pinch her nipple between my finger and thumb, a little harder this time.
Finger slowly thrusts in and out then hooks up and rubs along the roof of her pussy. Roll her hard nipple between my fingers and under the palm of my hand. My right hand twists slightly and I start to rub across her clit with the edge of my thumb.
Her breathing really starts to rasp, her hands grip my thighs. There’s a noise at the back of her throat, almost a hum.
A second finger slips into her pussy and I build the pace; thrusting into her, rubbing across her clit, twisting and teasing her nipple.
Her thighs start to shake and she’s moaning and gasping for breath, head rolling around on my shoulder. Faster and faster, twisting and pulling, thumb attacking. Feel her nipple and areola tighten, her pussy start to contract and grip my fingers,
Then, one last thrust, one last press against her clit and one last squeeze of her nipple and she shudders into a climax. She gasps, her legs curl up towards her chest and her fingernails dig into my thighs. She stays frozen, her wide open mouth, head pressed back against my shoulder.
I keep my fingers inside her, cup her breast, just holding her to me as she goes through her aftershocks.
As they subside she gives a long, back of the throat groan, takes a shuddering breath and slumps against me.
As her breathing begins to settle I remove my hands and rest them on her thighs. She takes a deep breath and sighs.
Sits for a couple more minutes then pushes herself forward, reaches under her sweater and sorts her bra out. Then her knickers, zips her skirt up and climbs to her feet. She stands for a moment or two looking down at me in the dark, then turns and walks away, no more than 20 minutes since she arrived.
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