Sex in Inappropriate Places…HIS Perspective.
Due to circumstances beyond my control, I’ve been away from this blog for far longer than I’ve wanted to be. But I’m back. With a vengeance.
So you’ve read W’s post, Sex in Inappropriate Places? It’s all true. All of it. But you don’t know what was going through my mind, do you?
Read on to find out.
Usually W is the one that finds places for us to have sex (well, the non-public ones anyway). This time it was me, my suggestion, my idea. My control.
But I was still nervous.
When we were there, the sex was fantastic. We hadn’t had a good fuck in about two weeks or so. We’d gotten each other off since the last fuck, but you know how it is, nothing beats a hot, wet pussy. Or, a hot hard cock (if you’re into that sort of thing, that is).
I got her off many, many times. And, based on our new position (and the furnishings where we were) I think I finally gave her a G-spot orgasm with my cock. We both loved that position, me standing up and her sitting down, wrapping her legs around my ass. Hands on the counter, head arched back in ecstacy. You’ve got to see her when she has a G-spot orgasm. So intense. So fierce. Nothing exists for her except my cock and the pleasure it brings her.
And yes, we couldn’t find my cum, when I came.
But that’s not the experience that I want to talk about.
I want to talk about what happened after our really good fuck.
We shared a meal, had some great conversation and enjoyed each others’ company. Hiding in plain sight. I think we’ve gotten used to it, so it doesn’t feel quite as nerve-wracking as it might have before.
But in the back of my head, I wanted to cum again. And I had an idea.
You see, I can make her cum multiple times. Generally though, I can cum once and then I’m done for the time we’re together. The idea of cumming again usually doesn’t interest me, not that I don’t want to, it’s just that my brain turns out the light in the sex drive area; I have been fucked into park by W.
So we left the restaraunt and took a walk. To the park. Our park.
I knew what I was doing. I felt sexually selfish. I wanted her to make me cum again. I just hadn’t told her yet.
We found a bench. Somewhat isolated, not completely dark. We sat down. We nuzzled together. I don’t remember what I said to her, but it went something like this:
“Will you please unzip my pants and give me a handjob?”
Of course she complied. In no time the park, silent in the twilight, echoed with a loud “zip” and her hand was in my pants quickly. A half-second later, my stiffening cock met the night air. My shirt was quickly pulled over it, and the stroking began.
I was worried that I wouldn’t cum. I was worried because when I try to have sex for the second time in the evening, I seriously take forever to cum. Yes, I know what you’re thinking– poor, poor you. It’s not because W doesn’t try to get me off, it’s because….well, I don’t know why it is. But it is.
So after a few minutes of her expertly stroking my cock, she mentions something about sucking me off.
“Not here.” I say.
So we put me back in, zip me up and begin walking around, hand in hand. Looking for a place where I can cum in her mouth. Talk about wanting to cum.
We get to where we had sex last weekend and there’s someone there, and like W said, they weren’t going anywhere soon.
So, ironically enough we walk back to the exact same place we just got up from.
Before we sat down, I unzipped my pants. She heard it.
“Did you just unzip your pants?” she asked, half-incredulous, half-proud.
“Yes.” I said. I wanted her to get me off.
You see, usually when I’m in control, behind closed doors I tell her what to do. It’s easy to be in control then, to be the one who demands and orders. In public, the roles are more likely to reverse. Once she gets me going in public, it’s hard for me to say no. Witness last week where all she had to do was pull up her skirt, show me her naked pussy and say “fuck me”. I am powerless in the face of her pussy.
So this was different. Her pussy had been fed; now it was my cock that was hungry. It knew that it would not get to be in her pussy. But I still wanted release.
So, sitting down, she began to stroke me. I kissed her, nuzzled her neck, wanted to bend her over the park bench and fuck her till I came. Hard.
But alas, I could not. I would have to make do with her hand, expertly stroking my cock.
This whole time I was looking around the park, surreptitiously trying to see if anyone was coming. Her hand (and my cock) was covered by my t-shirt. But I wanted more.
She offered again to take me in her mouth when I came. The closer I got, the better it sounded.
The ache began, the hunger, the desire, I was getting ready to cum…it was going to happen.
This time was different. Usually I tell her “I’m going to cum” or “I’m cumming” and quicker than you can imagine, my cock is in her mouth and she is greedily swallowing my cum.
It was different because I don’t think I had to say anything. I think she just knew from my body language. Maybe I did say something, I don’t know if I did or not because I was preoccupied.
Her warm, wet mouth expertly fastened itself to my cock and she sucked down my cum with reckless abandon.
There, on a public park bench with the quickly fading light from the setting sun with my head thrown back in ecstasy and triumph, I came hard in W’s mouth and loved every second of it.
She drank every last drop.
Miss you, W.