Stories tagged with "public"
French Kissing
Two old friends resolve the sexual tension between them in a French museum.
Birkin, I met on a hiking trip. We were with a big group of people that day. And as we headed out onto the trail, we somehow paired up and started this conversation that made us completely lose track of ourselves. Before we knew it, we broke away from the group, leaving them far behind us on the trail. It was an unusually hot day for late March, and the little path we were on was narrow. And every now and again, our arms would touch, and the feeling of his sweat tinge skin on mine nearly took my breath away. I remember being instantly captivated by him. He talked mostly about local politics and the environment. And even though I was completely spellbound by his ideas, I just couldn't help getting a little bit distracted watching the muscles move in his legs whenever he got a piece or two ahead of me. His already bronze skin was beaded with sweat at his temples, and I watched his one lone droplet snaked its way down the back of his muscular neck and disappeared under the color of his shirt. I remember wanting so badly to catch that droplet with my tongue and to trace its little path back up to the base of his skull, around his neck across his Adam's apple, and up to his mouth where I kiss him. I was lost in this thought when we began walking side by side again. Suddenly, our pinky fingers touched. And for that brief, fleeting moment, my body was absolutely electrified by the sensation. Soon after that, we started dating, and at night, we'd sit on his balcony listening to Miles Davis and Chet Baker, drinking gin and watching the lights from the city sparkle in the distance. We were perfectly compatible. Our bodies seem to fit together like puzzle pieces. And every time we make love, he'd always whispered to me, I love you, Princess. Afterward, we would lie there together blissfully telling and retelling the story of how we met. As it turns out, he wanted me that day too; he said he wanted to pull me into the bushes where no one could see us and take me from behind. While the other hikers passed us on the trail. He told me how he wanted to make me come. And that while I was coming, he wanted to cut this hand over my mouth. To keep the group from hearing me gasping and moaning just a few feet away. Well, fall came, and Eric had to leave on a business trip to Seattle. It was the first time that we'd been apart for more than a week. And the time away from one another really had a huge effect on me. I really missed him. I mean, I missed him desperately. I missed him more than I ever thought I'd miss anyone ever. And to be honest, this made me panic a little. At times, it felt like I'd never see him again. And I started to think that he'd enjoy his time away from me that he'd enjoy it so much that he just wouldn't come back. Or that maybe he'd meet someone more beautiful or more fun, more accomplished, and they'd run off together, never to be heard from again. Before he left on his trip, we'd plan to go to this Halloween party together. But now that he was gone, I had to go alone. So the night of the party arrived, and I went by myself. That October night was indescribably beautiful. It was crisp and cool, and the clouds drifted across the almost full moon, and the party was brilliant. It took place outside the rolling gardens of an 18th-century mansion, with fairy lights and lanterns eliminating the darkness. Almost everyone was dressed in period costumes from the 1700s and wearing masks so that you really had to listen to voices to figure out who you were talking to and whether or not you even knew them. I went dressed as Marie Antoinette wearing a perfectly reconstructed 18th-century dress course it and petticoat, all those layers of fabric around me and the course at pushing up my breasts felt unusually erotic, and the atmosphere of the gardens felt thick and heavy with sexual energy. So I wandered through the dark gardens alone, making my way through dense clusters of people gathered in the open spaces, the smell of hickory and pumpkin everywhere, the hypnotic pulsation of the drums, luring me to the outer reaches of the garden where the fairy lights barely permeated the darkness. It wasn't long before I realized I was being followed, and I was almost instantly aroused. I could hear the footsteps in the gravel behind me, maybe 10 feet away. So I started to walk a little faster, lifting my skirt slightly to keep a better pace. The drums coming from the house seemed to be intensifying even though I was farther away now. And I could feel the presence behind me getting closer at that point. I started to turn to see who was following me. But I was strangely excited by this pursuit, and I didn't really want it to end. So rather than turning to look, I simply peeked around to catch a glimpse of my pursuer. He was in costume wearing a mask, but I knew him and wanted him desperately. Eventually, I made my way to the outer reaches of the garden, walking quickly, staying close to the box with hedges, and trying to find a place off the path where I could find some refuge. My follower, meanwhile, was closing in quickly, closing the gap between us. And then suddenly it happened. I felt him lunged towards me, grabbing my wrist and pulling me into a thicket of butterfly bushes. Privett in English IV pushed me through the thicket and into a clearing into the hidden center of the garden towards an old cement bench that looked silver in the moonlight. I could hear people right there, right on the other side of the pivot edge, laughing and talking. And the drums continued incessant pulsing as he pushed me down over the bench. I didn't scream or call out because the chase and forcefulness by the stranger weren't frightening. Instead, I was intensely aroused. I knew this man. And this was our game. His presence was magnetic. I could feel the fabric of his costume against my wrists. And with his chest pressed against my back, I could feel his immense strength. I could feel his lips and jaw brushing against the back of my neck as he pulled me into him. His arms around my waist and hips and his legs behind me beginning to push mine apart. They were people just a few feet away from us, right there on the other side of the hedge. I could see their costumes sparkle when they moved. If I wanted to, I could have reached through the hedge and touch them. But I didn't. He was breathing heavily against my shoulder and thrusting my skirts up over my hips. And before I realized completely what was happening, I could feel him stiff and solid against the back of my bare thighs. And then, like the drumbeats pulsating through the darkness, he was moving and pulsating inside me. Fat drumming was mesmerizing and only intensifying the sensation of his body thrusting into me. He held my hips firmly, using them as leverage, going deeper, plunging into me as I gasped, and his hands. I could feel the strength of those hands grasping the flesh of my hips, and I was dizzy with pleasure. I could hardly hold myself upright? My legs were weak and trembling, and he threw himself into me over and over again. And just as I began to feel myself begin to cry out, hopelessly consumed with pleasure. He kept his hand over my mouth, trapping any trace of sound behind my lips. I could feel him throbbing inside me. And with his hand over my mouth. He pulled my head back, bringing my ear to his lips. And there, he whispered to me. I love you, Princess. I turned to face him, pushed his mask away, and kiss the beads of sweat from his lips. Oh my god, Eric, I said, holding his face in my hands. I missed you so much. I'm so happy you're back. We spent the rest of the night there together in that hidden center of the garden, holding and caressing each other until the first tense of morning slipped sweetly over the horizon.
Rating: 4.6/5 (total: 46)

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