It was a beautiful autumn day, they were in great spirits, and they took off walking up the blacktop neighborhood streets on the edge of their Midwestern town.
When the road ran out of houses and reached open fields, they kept walking on the crushed white rock that lined the blacktop.
Talking, teasing, touching the whole way along, they paused beneath a group of tall trees that were down and away from the road, kissing romantically for a good while.
Long gentle kisses with slightly parted lips soon became slippery open mouths with glimpses of erotic tongues and quiet breathy moans.
As a late afternoon breeze moved the trees, showering the two of them with leaves of red, yellow and orange, their kissing was becoming less like kissing, and a whole lot more like sex.
He reached for the front of her t-shirt and took her soft breast, finding her nipple with the flat of his thumb, pressing, rubbing so lightly, arousing her by tracing circles on her areola and on the tip of her nipple.
She raised her arms and crossed her wrists behind his neck, melting inside, wanting him not to stop.
With all their kissing and now his touch, her desires quickly enflamed and she envisioned herself riding him, then pictured him taking her from behind.
She was really getting turned on.
Doing it out in nature or in a public place didn't suit her, though. She required privacy. And whenever they were behind closed doors she was hotter than he had thought possible for a woman to sustain day after day. Day after day. Day after day. She always wanted it, and she wanted it hot, she wanted it romantic, she wanted it rough, and gentle, and hard, and slow, and pounding---she wanted it every way imaginable.
She loved feeling sexy, and she loved wearing sexy little things to arouse him (and sometimes to arouse herself when she was alone). Showing off her body made her feel pretty, and she truly was beautiful.
The sexy little clothes were very effective at increasing his appetites for her.
God, she was hot to watch.
And she loved being sexed. When they did it over the phone, just listening to him describe a fantasy encounter between them often made her chest ache with desire, and always made her wet.
If she was at home, she would act out his spoken fantasy as much as she could, bringing herself to consuming, soaking orgasms.
Just last week, he had called her on her cell phone as she was driving along one of these two-lane roads. She knew she might get distracted if their conversation went in a sexual direction, so she pulled into the parking lot of a large truck stop and drove her car to a vacant side of the lot.
He had been thinking about her, he was horny and wanted to do it over the phone.
She pushed her seat back as far as it would go so she could have more room.
Less than five minutes into the conversation her jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped. Listening to his quiet voice, she slid her right hand under her top, down across her soft smooth stomach, and slipped it inside her pink bikini panties.
Her fingers moved slowly so she could enjoy every sensation as she felt how wet and swollen she was.
She got wetter and hornier with every sentence he uttered, until she gave in and began to slide her fingers back and forth over her clit as quickly and as lightly as she could.
He was good with words, and could always drive her insane with desire.
She held her breath as he described himself eating her out, and she imagined the feeling of his mouth and his tongue on her swollen pussy.
She rocked her ass on the car seat as he talked in exquisite detail about fucking her. In her imagination, she saw his thick cock, tasted it, felt it penetrate her again and again, faster and deeper.
Lying back, she ground her hips and imitated fucking motions with her entire lower body.
As the intensity of his narrative increased, the speed and passion of her fingers on her pussy increased, until finally the sound of her breathing and the sound of her whimpering voice made clear what was building inside her.
She came hard and wet, soaking her hand and filling the car with loud sustained groans and grunting gasps, until through the phone he heard her say, "Shit," as she almost always did.
Now, standing beneath the trees, making out with him and letting him feel her up, her imagination was drawing her into serious sexual arousal, and she could feel herself getting wet inside her jeans.
She let one arm float slowly down the front of his shirt till it grazed the bulge in his pants. She wrapped her thumb and fingers around him as much as the jeans would allow, pressed him, pulled, squeezed his hard cock.
"Ohhh," involuntarily escaped her throat when he pinched and twisted the front of her breast.
A quarter of a mile down the way was a cross road. There at the intersection was a filling station, a twenty-four-hour convenience store, and a Dairy Queen.
And a motel.
They talked quietly as they left the trees, wet breathy kisses interrupting what little they had to say.
She had one hand on his ass, the other held the front of his belt.
His arm was draped across her back, with his hand resting between her upper arm and her rib cage so he could discretely hold her breast.
They could hardly walk, their heat and desire were so great. But they moved forward, almost stumbling once or twice, bringing each other to a state of desperation as they quickened their walk and headed straight for the Starlight Motel.
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Submitted by:
older-wiser
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