Milky Way

Written from the point of view of a female

‘fuck. I thought I said no public place?’

Despite sounding as ‘pissed’ as I could, I still couldn’t believe how we managed to ‘stumble’ into this well-hidden spot at the park, that had an eerily-peaceful ambience made even more enjoyable when void of any human traffic, at such late hours. I was pleasantly surprised at how quickly I became comfortable in the open, yet tiny space. He too, seemed to be at more ease than he could ever be, prancing around for deep breaths of fresh, jungle air.

(He asked) ‘but we are not doing anything, right?’

Right as he was, I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering, about how we could just stand next to each other, and appear ‘normal’, while our hands were busy someplace else. Heck, I could even sit, or lie down, while he did whatever he said he would (or wouldn’t) to me. For a moment, I did felt like I had a corner of my own, that no one except he, knew but wouldn’t disturb.

It wasn’t long after that, he came up behind me, and endearingly placed his arms around me, like I belonged to him. The doubts, and concerns, that my mind used to have, momentarily disappeared in that secret ‘hideout’, thus making me less inhibited than I would any place else.

With little hesitation, I then felt his hands slipped under my oversized, white shirt, heading straight up my waist for my boobs, that are really just ‘plains’. While I was gravely unimpressed by them, his mysterious fascination to them was evident from the way he fondled, and caressed my nipples. I didn’t know how else to describe this weird ‘sensation’, except that I felt a little more appreciated, loved, and perhaps, somewhat proud of my ‘plains’.

Once he gave them their fair share of attention, his arms then dived south for my shorts, which he proved himself worthy by undoing them without too much hassle. Whatever he was doing to me then, has been sanctioned, with a few, strict underlying rules I knew he would abide by.

That aside, you could say that my head was in the clouds when he tucked his hands into my underwear, and made just a few simple up-down strokes to find my delicate, and elusive, pleasure nub. That gesture alone, had actually earned him some points in my ‘naughty’ books.

If not for the slight slipperiness of his fingers, I would not have known how wet I had gotten, though that was expected once he made my eyes rolled back. It was, at that point that a mental image had formed in my head, around the shape of his hand, placement of his fingers, and how gently he pulled his fingertips along the outside of my vagina until he reached the very top (towards my belly button), to stimulate isolate and pleasure my sensitive clit.

To be frank, I had no doubts that he would find it, but to locate it in the first few ‘swipes’, I was definitely impressed by his method. It was so careful, unintrusive, and most certainly, calming when he did it. With my moans sounding increasingly-sensual, he brought his body closer to my back, and it was then I learnt of his ‘needs’, and how he was as hard as I was wet, fitted snug between my butt cheeks.

Without breaking his momentum, I put one hand on my back and let him ‘guide’ me (down) to it, and boy, I have no words to describe its size, or its intensity. ‘Hard’, might be a general term to describe an erected dick but he was squishy as hell too. It was so malleable around my fingers that I just couldn’t stop playing with it, while he struggled to maintain his composure.

After a long time of teasing each other, he finally took his hands out of my pants and moved me to the entryway of the ‘open room’, where we could hear everything if someone was nearby. There, he removed my shorts entirely and sat between my feet, face tilted upwards for my most anticipated part of our rendezvous.

Since I was relatively ‘tall’, I had to bend my knees a little, to let his mouth reach ‘me’. Upon first contact of his tongue on my clit, I immediately threw out his claims of being ‘inexperienced’, as I trembled uncontrollably to his incessant flicks and slurps. Unsure if he had learnt it from the Internet, the forceful suction of air through his loosely placed lips made my vagina lips so cold that it turned a little numb, I actually craved for his warm mouth to bring it ‘back to life’.

From there on, I could more or less make out what he was doing as he tongue-brushed each stroke of the alphabet, from A, to B, to more light-headedness. I did my best to stay as still as I could as he ate me like an inedible oyster, complete with viscous fluids which I couldn’t hold back. As my chest raised and fell like an asthmatic patient, he had the audicity to break contact to ask me a question.

(He asked) ‘Can I put a finger inside?’

In my breathless, agitated state, the only response I could give him was a nod, before I pulled his face back into my groin. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait too long for him to involve his hand, that pushed a finger very, very slowly up my dripping vagina.

I swear, I almost lost my mind and caved in when I felt my pussy getting filled with meat again, no matter its size. It was that assuring, liberating rush of emotion that I missed so much, yet refrained from indulging in it carelessly. I just couldn’t wrap my head around how he would be the one, to reignite the passion I thought was lost forever.

His tireless mouth, working alongside his eager fingers, soon brought me closer to an orgasm, that I wasn’t sure I had even experienced before. Sure, I had bouts of tremors and shivers, but there now exists a voice in my head, that warned me of something bigger.

Him, being years older than me, made me felt safe enough to ‘let myself go’ and let him take me wherever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop what he was doing. I just did my best ‘stand’ my ground, as I handed control of my mind to my body and him, and rode through every waves of euphoria he sent through my vagina.

After a few, long minutes, my knees started to buckle, and ultimately lost the strength to hold me up. I gradually sank into the ground, where he shifted himself in front of me to keep two of his fingers rubbing, in small circles at a constant rhythm.

With an impending doom overcoming my senses, I just clung onto his ‘working arm’ tightly as he summoned the most powerful orgasm I ever had, crumbling my body and soul into his arms. Stranded on the dusty floor, I shook non-stop for a long time while he held me close, and reminded me of his dedication to me when I finally turned sober.

(I pleaded) ‘wei.. I didn’t do anything for you wor.’

To that, he smiled at me and held my shorts at my feet, to put them on for me. I didn’t know how else to feel, but I neither could I wipe off that grateful grin on my face. After all that he has done, I think I really do like him.

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