Wave after glorious wave of heat beats down upon us, as relentless as your lustful lips being crushed against mine. Your urgent tongue matching the insistent grind of your hips on my thigh, the soaked fabric of your underwear catching between our skin and causing your cunt to tingle and twinge.
You writhing in my lap would be obscene if we weren’t obscured from view. Hidden in long grass just off the coastal path, the sea breeze catching your hair and tickling my wrists as I hold the sides of your face as we kiss. Just as the grass hides us, your favourite sundress covers our public indiscretion. Flowing and floaty enough to drape over my legs as you massage my quad muscle with your sodden centre, the cotton caresses your torso and accentuates your curves. Slowly, I pop the buttons, one by one, through their holes until the swell of your breasts beads with sweat from the close air. I break from our kiss just long enough to run my tongue across your period drama-esque heaving bosom, tasting your sweet perspiration, and up to your taut collarbone.
The sensitivity of my lips on your soft skin arches your back and I can feel just how stiff and needy your clit has gotten. You’re aware of it too as you take the opportunity to circle your hips and target your sweet spot against my kneecap. Your wanton abandon spurs me on and I move my lips to yours in the vain hope that I can catch all those little whimpers and moans escaping your mouth in mine. The corners of your smile turn upwards as the throbbing of my engorged cock nudges against your leg. The linen shorts I’m wearing are barely able to contain my excitement, but enough to make me yearn for freedom. Freedom to pulse and twitch. Space to be handled. Room to slide inside you for that very first time, that feeling of completion and joy and home begging for stillness and fighting against the urge to pull out and search for that incredible feeling again, over and over, chasing an impossible dream…
I move to push away a thick strand of hair from your beautiful face, so I can gaze into your eyes, and you catch my hand before it gets there. With full lips you guide my fingers into your mouth and press your tongue against them, sucking them to the back of your throat just as you have done with my thick dick time and time again. The simulated blow job stirs wave after wave of memories and with each one my cock twitches and taps against your leg as if it was urging you to hurry up and ride it.
Without losing the rhythmical sucking on my hand you swing the leg you had between mine over my hip and fully mount me, nothing but thin, damp cottons keeping us from fucking. You don’t break eye contact as I feel you reach behind and pull your sodden panties to one side. The tip of my straining cock is instantly drenched through the linen it’s fighting against by your arousal. I can almost feel your cunt quiver with anticipation. Still you stare into my soul, rolling your tongue around my fingers until they’re dripping chains of saliva, rivulets running across my palm and down my wrist.
You take my hand from your mouth, strands of spit linking your lips to my skin, and slowly, achingly so, guide it downwards. You run my fingertips across your soaked chin. Glide them through the shimmering sweat on your sun-soaked chest and down between your tits, popping the remaining buttons open as we go, exposing more cleavage to the world. I hope it’s as grateful as I am. With your free hand you gently lift the hem of your dress, still locking my vision in with yours, and escort my fingers through your soft patch of hair and on to those impossibly soft, tantalisingly warm, inexplicably wet lips.
“Touch my cunt. Slowly.” You command. I obey.
I part my fingers and run them past your swollen hood, between your engorged labia, and bring them together over your centre, holding them there for a second too long so you feel the ache in the pit of your stomach. You lean forward to kiss me and as our lips lock your hips tilt and my fingertips slip inside your red hot flesh. The relief and the pleasure escape from your lips in a light, breathy giggle that’s almost carried off on the summer breeze. There’s a weightier grunt next as I push the two fingers all the way inside you and rest my palm against your pulsing clit. A shudder washes over you as my fingers curl past your depth and push up against that sacred spot that only a few have managed to find and the heel of my hand presses against your mound. We kiss in time with my circling fingers, our skin as slick and as slippery as our tongues, your breath hastening as the fire inside you burns brighter, hotter, and higher. Bright enough to blind you to our surroundings. Hot enough to burn the outside world away. High enough to help you reach the peak of your pleasure as you lock in to the undulating waves of ecstasy. As you come, gently shaking, fighting between the urge to break away and the need to lean deeper into the orgasm, you bite my lip and moan deeply into my mouth with a long, deliberate, feral ‘fuuuuuuuuck’.
“Please may I taste you?” I ask, the sub in me relishing you controlling our outdoor fuck, but also knowing that in your come-drunk state you’ll agree to pretty much anything that keeps that feeling simmering away. You glance around to check there’s nobody near, once again aware that we’re in the open, albeit obscured, and that standing up and straddling your lover’s face may be a bit too conspicuous. The coast is clear though and you’re more than happy to oblige my request. In one swift movement you stand and swish your skirt over my head, and hover your glistening pussy in front of me. I can feel your heat. I can smell your arousal. I can see your cunt pulse and clench with the aftershock of your orgasm. It makes my dick ache with lust and my heart hurt with joy.
“You can taste me on one condition… Take off your shorts.” Another command. Another opportunity to be owned by you. Another chance to do as I’m told, and I do. As I feel the heat radiate from your sex against my face, I can feel the warm air through my pubic hair and the sun against the rarely exposed flesh of my upper thighs, my hips, and my taut, proud, pulsing cock. I’m past caring if anyone can see us, and if they can, man are they getting a show…
“Good boy,” you praise me, “now go ahead and get your reward.”
You lean into the tree and rest your mound against my beard. Your sweetness covers my mouth as I lay kisses against your soft flesh and run my tongue over your plump lips. You taste like Christmas. Warm bourbon and vanilla, laced with cinnamon and nutmeg, the hint of spiced musk in the background stoking the fires of my hunger. The need to devour you, to coat my face in your lust, to breathe you in and never let you go…
My tongue finds your clit and your knees buckle a little at just how sensitive you still are. You lean into it though and roll your needy pussy over my mouth, circling your hips and pushing up against my face, grinding into my soft facial hair and spreading your nectar all over my grin. My muffled moans vibrate through your mound and the movement of my tongue over your folds flicks you into overdrive again. You fuck my face, riding the tip of tongue, wishing it was longer and thicker and with that wish, you pull away. The sight of your glorious body being covered by your sundress sinks my heart a little, as I adore worshiping you with my mouth, but you lift my spirits again as you squat over my hips and nestle your self against my eager dick.
“Put your hands over your head.”
My eyebrow raises a little, as does my cock.
“Now.”
My wrists meet above my head, against the tree.
“Chin up.”
I raise my face to meet your commanding gaze.
“Good boy. Now hush, we don’t want to attract too much attention…”
You place one hand over my crossed wrists and press them against the tree trunk. The bark is hard and sharp and bites into my skin, but the pain is good, like the sustained needle pricks of a tattoo gun. The pressure is hot and I can’t help but grin a little at you taking charge. With your free hand, you wrestle your breasts out of the undone bodice of your sundress. As I am distracted by your brazenness, you lean in and kiss me, deeply, and firmly snake that free hand around my throat. My eyes widen with submission and lust, and with that cue (and squeeze of your fingers) you push my aching cock past the threshold of your wanton, dripping lips and hold me there for what feels like an eternity. I wish I could see it. I want so badly to see your stretched cunt wrapped around me. To be able to make out every thick vein on my dick full and ferocious. To watch the small rivers of lust leak out of you and slalom their way down to my balls. I want to see, but I can’t as your sundress covers it all, and that makes it even hotter.
Another kiss as you lower yourself on me, half inch by agonising half inch, betraying both our desire to fuck as hard and fast as we can and explode in a rage of spunk and squirt and screams. The strength it’s taking you to hold yourself up, and to press yourself against my arms, and to keep that pressure around my throat, is staggering. I am in awe of you, and not just because I am inside of you. Your commitment to the slow, deliberate, grind of your pussy around my girth is mind-blowing. After what feels like an age, our mounds meet, and I am fully enveloped by you. I can feel your blood pulse around me. I can feel every squeeze and clench of your cunt and the desire to withdraw and find that feeling again threatens to take over. I am rooted to the spot. As much as I want to pull out and drive myself in to you, I can’t. The ground is against me. Your hands are holding me in place. Your will commands it and I am yours to fuck as languidly as you wish. And you do.
All distractions are silent. No gulls calling, no waves crashing against the coast line, no people in the distance enjoying their summer. Just you and me, pinned up against this tree, and the achingly, maddening way you’re stroking my cock with your tight, slick cunt. You’re still staring into my eyes as you squeeze yourself against me with every thrust. Our breaths synchronised, our gasps matched as my zenith meets your depth and your swollen clit brushes against my base.
I can feel my muscular thighs burning and my toes curling whilst you edge me with your pussy. Your brow furrows as you sense my dick getting thicker and harder, pressing against your walls and angling at that sweet spot, pushing past it and sparking electricity from your core to your extremities. Colours dance in your vision as my breathing becomes rapid and my chest tightens. You feel my arms flex under your hand and my neck stretches against your grip.
“Come with me.” Another command, frantic this time, and one that I certainly can’t resist as you speed up your thrusts along the length of my hardness, spreading your silky wetness around every ridge and crest of my flesh. I can feel your lust splash against me and my whole body stiffens and with a stifled cry I explode, spurting jet after jet of thick spunk into your relentless cunt as you continue fucking me to your own climax, using my seed as lube to help you flick your buzzing clit off of my pubis. You let go of my wrists and my throat and bury your face in my neck, rocking yourself against the base of my still twitching dick, milking the last drops of come from me, growling into my collar as you arrive, sweaty, spent and soaked, leaking and loved.
We stay there for some time, still entwined, your legs wrapped around me, your tongue in my mouth, my softened cock in your still pulsing pussy, and listen as the sounds of the world around come back into being. The bubble hasn’t burst, as such, just expanded to the beauty around us once more. The summer breeze glides over us again, the gulls cry out to another, and the world rolls on.
