“I’m no fluffer,” he growls, “I’m not revving you up for someone else to enjoy the results.”
“I don’t want you to be my fluffer either,” I respond, “I want all of you”
…
“Hello, Miss,” he breathes in my ear, as he places me back on my feet after I have leapt into his arms for a passionate greeting.
“Hello, Sir,” I gaze up at him before reigniting our embrace. He runs his hands over my arse through my sundress. He does a second and then a third sweep, searching for the telltale sign that my underwear exists before his brow raises and he pulls away from the entanglement of our tongues.
A couple walks past us, curiosity on their faces at the pair of us entwined on the footpath, the harbour lights dancing in the reflection of his glasses as he ducks his head to look in my eyes.
“Now…. these are my FAVOURITE colour panties,” he says in a tone which lingers between a moan and a growl. What was going to be a quick hello on the foreshore has taken the turn I hoped it would as he pulls me with him to the side of the path.
A man, running with his dog, sidesteps around us as we move. I barely notice the runner’s existence as my eyes lock onto the man in front of me.
His back is to the sea, arse on the seawall as I stand between his legs, my own legs parted, my body pressed tightly to his. Our tongues dance around each other as the 10 days since we last met melt away. We are caught in the space between being watched and not having a care in the world. He turns his cap backwards to allow easier access to his mouth.
Another jogger passes behind me as his hand travels up my thigh. We pull back and smile at each other as his thumb reaches the dampness between my legs, his eyes roll back slightly while he sighs inwards. “Miss, you are soaking”
I nod in agreement and anything I may have wanted to say catches in my throat as I press my mouth against his, our lips parting, our tongues searching as if we have never tasted each other before.
“How was your day?,” I ask, as I lean back slightly. He licks the fingers he has removed from my dress, never looking away. The walkers who pass behind me barely register in my mind as he tells me about work and asks me about my evening plans.
We have a small window of time in which to enjoy each other’s company, and the firmness of his cock through his work gear tells me he is just as happy as I am that we have stolen this half hour.
I moan as his fingers trace up my legs and find their place back inside me. The promise of more is torturous and delicious at the same time. His teeth graze my breasts, biting gently and then with more fervour as he becomes more aroused.
He spins me around and hugs me from behind, his strong arm as close to my neck as it can get in this public setting. Another group wanders past us, out for an evening stroll along the beach, perhaps after a family dinner.
I grind my arse into his crotch and we both know we are walking a fine line between keeping our clothes on and doing something that will get us arrested. A sudden choice is made, it’s time to go. We’ve got to go.
He takes my hand and pulls me to my car and opens the door. Another couple of joggers puff past as I close the door and pull him close to me, my back on the car as he presses against me. Devouring me with his mouth, his hands running over every inch he can reach, his fingers dancing across my clit as he hitches up my dress.
“You know the best bit about these overalls?” he asks, his voice barely more than a gravelly whisper, his eyebrow cocked as he looks down at me, “they have snaps for easy access”.
My eyes roll back and my stomach tightens as he demonstrates. Within seconds I’m undoing the lower 3 snaps as he works his cock free from his clothes underneath. My fingers curl around his shaft as I move my hand up and down within the shelter of his clothes and our bodies.
I become aware that I have not been paying any attention to our surroundings, such is the hunger I feel. It’s time to go. The door opens and I take my place in the driver’s seat as he rearranges himself. My dress is wet when I sit and I make a mental note to head straight to the toilet when I arrive at the drinks I am going to.
I look up at him as he stands in the open door, this stunning human who has chosen me. He would say we’ve chosen each other, but how could I not? I shake my head slightly in an attempt to remove the devilish thought that enters my mind. I look back up at him and see he is thinking the same thing.
His hand makes quick work of releasing his cock and I put all my trust in his lookout ability as I take him in my mouth. I lose myself completely in the enjoyment of how he tastes, how he feels in my mouth, his precum on my tongue.
This. This is what I have been thinking about every day since we last saw one another and what I have been pining for every moment since we arranged to meet where our paths were set to cross this evening.
I push him to the back of my throat and smell the familiar mix of iron, fire and man on his clothes. We both know we have to leave. We both know we’re leaving the other wanting more. This isn’t our way but, God damn, I had to see him. Another 11 days ahead without him in my mouth.
A family walks past, that’s our cue. “Just one more” I say, before taking his cock to the back of my throat three more times. It’s agony to watch him pull up his zipper and refasten his snaps. He leans into the car, one more taste of his lips before we go.
“Travel safe, Miss. I’ll see you when you get back”.
“You too Sir, text me when you get home”.
And with that he’s off. I flick my lights on and pull out of the carpark, a silly grin on my face, and drive to meet friends on shaky legs, his figure in my rear view walking along the shared path, shoulders wide, head up, no doubt cock still throbbing.
11 sleeps to go.
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