Musings For My Lover
Found You
I’m on edge.
It’s obvious to everyone on the bus—my leg is bouncing, and I keep nervously checking what stop we’re at before checking the time on my phone to see the time hasn’t changed. When it’s my time to leave I practically bounce up. I don’t think I’ve been this excited to be at a park in years.
It’s not a large park, nor is it the nicest one in the city, but that’s why we chose it.
Barely anyone comes here during the day, and even fewer wander in at sunset, which is exactly what time it is now. The game is on, and it's been on since lunch, started by you with a single word text of the same word.
On.
Just that. It's the last things I've heard from you.
We've planned this all out a week before, though I didn't know when we'd start. The anticipation has had my mind buzzing since then, waiting for just this moment as I step off from the sidewalk and wander into the small trails that littler this little park. There’s another part of our game tonight, and it has my heart pounding as I try and peer around trees which make figures out of bushes in the distance.
The trick is, I don’t know where you are.
It’s not unlike hide and seek, but somehow I feel like your both the hider and the seeker, and I'm just a piece of warm meat for you to claim. I feel seen, even though I know I'm alone out here. I can't hear footsteps, and haven't seen anyone in a half hour while the sun sets.
You know this place better than me. If you don't want me to see you, I won't see you. Despite this, I look.
Are you even here? Are you at home, warm in your bed, laughing at me for thinking you were serious about this?
Maybe you’ve decided not to show up at all…
As it gets darker, my excitement starts to morph into nerves. I chew on my cheek and head towards where the main path was behind me. Not far down the way, I notice a concrete building. The bathrooms I assume because of the dirty yellow light that has just flickered on. It's dilapidated looking, yet the sight of a building offers the vagueness sense of comfort I get from remembering there's a society outside these empty woods.
I sigh, and head in its direction.
One more pass around the park, I think, and then I’ll call before I give up entirely.
I wander closer to the bathrooms, my eyes wide and searching. But I’m so focused on my task I don’t hear you sneak up from behind me. Your footsteps are a soft, fast noise, but not one that sounds much different from the wind or a squirrel settling down for the night.
I feel your presence once your right behind me though, but before I can turn and scream, your hand is over my mouth and you drag me into the men’s bathroom. The fat click of the lock snaps me out of my shock and I finally start to struggle, the few self-defense tactics I know coming back to mind.
The terror, though, is realizing that I can't get away. Even if I tried my hardest. I really fight now, though it seems futile, until I'm rendered practically immobile.
“Shh, shh, shh." Your arms have locked me tight against your chest and your voice is huffed. "It’s me.”
It takes a second as I recognize your voice and the sound of your grunts, they my shoulders visibly relax into your chest. The loud sounds of my attempts to scream turn into giggles of relief. My first thought, I was so relieved you decided to come, and my second saved for savoring the thrill of actually being caught. But with a gasp when you roughly grab my breasts I remember that our game is far from over.
Your hand slips under my shirt, moving under my bra to paw at what you’ve caught, and my head rolls back. Your teeth run along my neck once, making my shiver, before you start to bite and mark my skin with your mouth. It’s a distraction. The hand that was kneading my ass starts to roughly pull my pants down. Then my underwear. Then your rubbing me, your pace harsh and demanding, and my moan is a shuddering breath.
“Look how wet you are…” You condescend in a low voice, “I knew you were my little slut, but really?”
“I’m—ohH!” My answer is broken by your finger slipping into me and you add the second too quickly and I’m forced to stretch.
I can feel your hard-on trying to press into me through your pants, and I arch to grind into you. You grunt, your hand slapping my ass as you decided there I don’t need any more teasing.
“Bend over.” You order, “Put your hands on the wall.”
It looks filthy, so I hesitate. But I want to get fucked more than I care about the grimy bathroom wall or the fact there’s a public urinal not two feet from my face. You slap my ass enough to sting and I take the hint.
Unable to hold back all my disgust, I touch the wall, I even bend over, but not as much as you wanted. Your hips press my whole body closer to the wall, until my cheek and forearms are pressed against it and my nails get dirt and crusty filth under them as you enter me.
It’s a good stretch, and it’s better than your fingers—certainly better than mine.
“Fuck!” We sigh together when you’re in and you start to fuck me properly.
We’re nothing but moans, and I’m whining as you reach around and grab my tits to squeeze and pull at my nipples. But you grow tired of it, and your pulling my hair so you can see my lust filled face as my eyes roll back. You kiss and bite at all the skin you can and I’ll trace my fingers over the marks when I’m alone later and think about your cock.
“Do you want me to cum in you? Do you want my cum?” I moan, but you want more, “Answer me.”
“Yes, I want it.” I manage.
“Do you want me to fill you like the good little breeder you are?”
I hiccup with pleasure, “Yes!”
“Then say the name of the man you want to breed you.” You grunt, “Say it.”
“Please!” I finally beg your name in a muffled voice, “I need you!”
And I do. Who else comes up with such fun games?
Just For You
My phone buzzes. My heart skips a beat. I've been waiting for this all day.
10 pm. Park. Watch out for the woods.
To another, that might sound ominous. The order is simple, straight forward, but still a bit mysterious. I understand exactly.
I don't need to know which park. There's only one we make regular use of and I know just where you mean. I'm curious though. Honestly, I'm used to briefer messages, but today you've offered me a hint.
I chew on my lip, wondering what you have in store but it's hours until it's time to leave, so the rest of my day passes impatiently.
By the time I get there it will be completely dark, and the idea of wandering around the forest at night always makes me nervous. But I know that's what you want. Because the idea of knowing you're out there, in the dark, watching me, makes me wet my lip and my thighs tremble.
I might not know where you are, but I know exactly what you want from me.
When I step off the bus at a familiar stop, I've been teetering between nervous and excited for the last hour. My eyes dart about the tree line, though I doubt I'll see you. I don't.
So with a final deep breath, it's time to start to wandering. The park is empty, like it usually is this time of night, and I set off towards the woodsy area. But my sense of direction is not the best, and I have to turn around once before I'm headed the right way. I almost laugh to myself, wondering if you saw me, if you're looking at me right now getting lost before I've even gone anywhere.
There's a tension in my step, a hidden arousal in my gaze as I look through the trees. The breeze is light, I hear the branches sway more than see them.
Waiting is part of the fun.
The anxiety is what makes me want it, want you, that much more. I chase that rush of fear when commanding hands find my body in the dark. I know it's you, it's never not been you, but I can't push down the fight or flee response and I love when you force me to do neither.
When you catch me, there is only one option: submit.
There's a stiff breeze and I pull my cardigan around me tighter, hugging the shape of my waist. The tree branches above start cricking and shaking, and I don't hear the sound of your steps behind me.
Than the world goes dark.
Something hot and stuffy--a scarf--covers my entire face suddenly and I can't breathe. My hands automatically start to struggle pulling the fabric away from my mouth as the other of your large hands forces my hips to yours.
I feel that next. Your cock on my back, already hard and strained.
After a moment, you whisper, "Hello Miss. I've been expecting you."
You've ended the game quicker than I expected, but still managed to keep my heartbeat racing. Maybe you've been here for a long time. I don't know, you never tell me.
But now, the scarf slips so it's around my neck to choke me for a moment while you drag us off the trail and into the brush nearby. Here, there's a clear patch of grass I can barely see.
You use your weight to push me up against a tree, sticking my ass out so you can land a solid slap. I bit me lip hard to stop a loud, groaning moan to answer the muffled sound of your strike. That hand keeps contact, rubbing up the swell of my ass, around my body to squeeze a tit. That's when you notice.
I'm not wearing underwear. No bra. No panties.
"Oh, you're so fucking ready for me, aren't you?"
You don't let me answer. The scarf is stuffed into my mouth and I can't answer you with anything besides a keening peep. You pull me up, my back hits the bark of the tree and I'm practically panting.
You don't let me look at you, but I hear when you start to unzip your pants. There's a sound of frustration, or maybe relief passing your lips when your dick finally springs free. But instead of taking me there, the pressure of your hand on my shoulder pushes me onto my knees and your cock is in my face.
My mouth is already open, my tongue lulled out and wet for your to force your way in.
"That's right, suck my dick. Show me how much you want me. Show me how much you want my cum. How much you need my cum."
I suck, moving my head as fast as I can and I moan when I feel your hand slap at my cheek.
"There you go." You groan, you grab my hair forcing me to take you deeper, faster. "Get my dick all wet before I fuck you into this tree."
I'm choking, saliva falling down my chin, making your balls wet as they slap against my chin. I feel you pulsing in my mouth, hot and hard. My hands slip between my thighs now they're free, and they grind into my clit as your thrusting makes me moan around your length.
My moans pitch a little higher, I could cum like this and have before, so you must notice. But that's not what you want today. You grab my hair and pull my head back so your cock slips out, and you drag me back up to my feet.
The scarf reappears, and this time you're shoving it into my mouth before I can even take a deep breath. It's messy, rough as your hand replaces mine. You're curling your big fingers back until I'm shaking--it doesn't take long to take me to the edge again.
There are loud moans on my tongue that I can't hold back, I'm almost there when you slow.
The sound of you clicking your tongue and chastising me hardly registers over the rush of blood pounding in my ears.
"Not until I say so, slut."
I whine, needy and in a haze. If it wasn't so cold I'd forget we were outside, for how gone I feel. You make your grip firmer for a moment, a warning before you let me go, but right now I wouldn't dare move.
You take a moment and pull your pants off, and when you meet me again, I'm wrapping my leg around your waist ready for you to stretch and fill me. I can't meet your eye as I moan, and when my head lulls over I notice the fact we aren't far from the trail.
That doesn't bother me at first. It's late, quiet. We're almost always the only two people out here, so I let go.
I loose myself in your thrusts. My fingers start to claw at you, dragging your chest as close to mine as I can, clinging to you as you bound me me into the tree trunk you've chosen. I roll my hips with you, matching you as best I can...
When I hear voices down the trail.
My first instinct is to panic. We've never been caught before, and while I like the flirt with the idea, I don't actually want to be seen like this. You're for me and I'm for you. No one else.
So I try to get your attention. Your name drips like sin off my tongue. Hot, needy, pleased. Not at all a warning, but it doesn't matter, you've already noticed.
I shouldn't have even imagined you'd stop just to spare the looks of a few old women. Because instead of stopping you pick me up, still keeping yourself inside me, as you lay us to the ground. I feel the weight of your body pressing me into the soil, no less unyielding than the tree, as you keep fucking me.
The people come closer. Your hand is over my mouth to keep me quiet. But still you don't stop, not for a breath, or a moment as two elderly women wander past us, barely hidden in the bushes. If they notice us, they don't stare or linger. It's difficult to pay attention to the shadow of their heads as my eyes roll back ever other second and I teeter on the edge of ecstasy.
When they're gone you finally lift your hand from my mouth and I gasp. Your forehead presses against mine, your eyes my entire world, before you are finally finally commanding me.
"Cum for me."
And that's all I need to spill over the edge into a tremoring mess and you know it. A bit of a laugh on your lips as you pull out of me.
"You're not done yet. Pull your shirt up, I want to cum on those tits of yours." You demand.
And though I'm shaking, though I can hardly stay up on my knees, I do it. I pull my shirt up, revealing my breasts to you as your hand glides along your dick, shining with my slick.
"Please, give your little cum slut what she wants." I beg as you near your edge. "I need it."
"Open your mouth." You order so I do, waiting eagerly for you to finish.
When you groan one last time your cum comes flying at me, landing everywhere. Across my mouth, on my tits, dripping down stomach, decorating my neck.
We just stay there for a moment, panting and letting the moment pass. But the rush fades and I let out just a little giggle.
You were right, this is so, so fun.
You pass me the scarf and I use the side still wet from my mouth to clean myself off as well as I can. Passing it off you do that same thing, though I don't know how you actually get clean, you seem satisfied.
When we're "clean" you stand up all the way, and offering a hand to help me up too. Though my legs are still quivering and I'm sure they will be for the rest of the night, I can't help but fuss over both us. You're laughing as I readjust my clothes and I suddenly hope you haven't ruined my cardigan, I really like this one...
It's Raining, It's Pouring
I'm absolutely sopping wet, and not because I'm lying half-exhausted with sheets stained by our sweat, drying beneath me quickly. My thighs weren't sticky from my wetness and your seed.
Unfortunately, this was a different kind of wet. I was outside, currently walking through the graveyard we had discussed earlier in the week when it began to pour. We do this once every week or so, deciding when and where our hunt should start. Often, we visit the same places, usually parks that exist somewhere between our workplaces. Sometimes we travel, finding mostly unwalked nature trails where we can have our fun across the state.
We pick a location early, so the anticipation and nerves can build as the day of the hunt comes nearer. Even if it's a place we've been to a thousand times, our little games never fail to excite.
That doesn't mean that we don't like to try out new things from time to time. Today was my idea, I've always wanted to fuck in graveyard and I couldn't think of anyone else better to do it with. We picked a day, and you found a good place. Off the main roads, winding, classic graveyard, almost out of a movie. It's beautiful here. Trees for either of us to conceal ourselves behind, and an obvious sense that no one really comes around here often anymore.
There is only one problem.
.
..
...
I forgot to check the weather.
It's been raining for about half an hour, and of course I didn't bring a raincoat or even an umbrella so I was soaked a moment after the skies opened. My tank top sticks to my skin and my nipples strain against the fabric, my hair slick, my eyelashes feel heavy, and I can't help but shiver. I'm completely, utterly, drenched and I hate it. But I'm still out here, searching for you.
You've made me wait nearly an hour before, stumbling around in the dark with my pulse jumping at the shadows of the trees. But you've never left me abandoned anywhere. At least not yet.
Today could be the day, though. Leaving is the smart thing to do, I wouldn't blame you. But I'm feeling cold and stupid, thinking you promised to meet me here, and you wouldn't break a promise.
Fat drops of water made my cardigan stick to my skin like I was wrapped in a soft, wet cocoon. They fall on my face and trace down my neck until they settle into a pool between my breasts and are absorbed by my shirt and my bra. I feel them trace down my skin, under my clothes. A cold finger which trickles down my neck and the curve of my back. You still haven't shown yourself, and I'm nearly certain now I'll catch at least a sniffle.
I look to the sky and stick my tongue out at the clouds. They only answer by pelting my tongue with cold spits of water. When I came here looking to be pounded, this is not the sort I meant.
And though I love our games, now I want the hunt to end early. I'm longing for the heater in your car, as much as I'm longing for you to pull me into your wide chest. I think about the drive home, your large hand on my thigh as you teasingly interrupt whatever trite thing I'm talking about by grinding your palm into my pussy for just a moment. I'd softly moan, call you a tease, and you would only smile, urging me to continue talking. I will, but I'll still laugh at you, then you can take us home where we can rut together in bed like normal people.
I saw an old oak tree earlier, and while it's not smart to stand under trees in the rain, it seems the dryest place around. If you're not here, I don't have a ride and I can't well check my phone in the pouring rain or I'll really be out of luck. So I take a trek through the mud to find it again.
The tree is a welcome sight, and its wide reach, and huge leaves leave the ground beneath is boughs relatively dry--or dry enough that I don't feel pelted once I'm underneath it. I pull my phone out of my pocket and check to see if I have any missed calls from you. But there's nothing.
Just as I think about calling you myself even though it's kind of against our rules, I feel arms wrap around me. I squeal, and nearly drop my damn phone on the gnarly roots. But I don't care. I know who's arms those are, and I'm grateful for the warmth.
"Oh kitten, I'm sorry." You say. "Rain got you good, huh."
"Yes." I don't stop how it sounds like a miserable moan.
You chuckle into my hair, "Let me make it up to you, let me warm you right up." You offer.
Already, your hands run down the sides of my shoulders and start to peel my wet jacket off. You do it slowly, waiting for me to tell you to stop, you know I really, really hate getting wet, but I don't say a word. Instead, as you slip the sleeves down, you've bent over far enough I can wrap my arms around your neck and I drag you into a deep kiss.
I want your tongue in my mouth, and your warm palms on my bare skin, and we struggle to peel off the rest of my clothes while keeping our heads close. My bra comes off next as you lay me on the ground and your mouth is on my neck. Your fingers are on my breasts, pulling at them hard until I mew into your touch.
"Undo my pants, won't you?" You order.
My hands get busy fast. You're drier than me. I wonder if you just got here, or not, you must have been running late. But at least you came.
It might be a bit drier under the tree, but the earth is still a bit muddy, and silently we both decided it would be best to finish this quickly and we can continue this properly elsewhere once the neediness in the air has relaxed. You push my underwear aside rather than peel it off of me. I shiver when your finger brush past my clit.
"Now that's the kind of wet we like." You joke, and I pout, much to your amusement. "Aw kitten don't pout, you want my cock, don't you?"
I nod. There's a gasp on my lips as one knuckle, then two, slips into me. I grind into your palm for a moment, and you smile before replacing your hand with your hips. Then it's your dick that's at my entrance and we groan together as you finally penetrate my entrance.
The plats of rain on the ground start to mix with your rough thrusts into me and I'm clawing at the dirt around my head when my hands slip off the much more appropriate rain coat you've got on. My eyes roll back as my breath gets quick and you're hitting my cervix when you thrust in that way which means I can hardly think. The cold is forgotten, all I want is more.
My eyes roll back, lost, when your voice purrs in my ear.
"Look at me, kitten." You command and I do. "Are you going to cum?"
I suck in my lip and nod.
"No, I want you to say it. You want to cum hard, right?"
"Yes!"
"You want me to make you cum? Do you need me to say it?"
"Please!" I cry out. "I do. Please let me cum."
"No." I groan when you deny me, but you only laugh. "You have to wait for me, cum slut."
You're trusting so hard I feel like I can feel it in my fingertips. I'm spasming, I can't help it, but you growl.
"You better wait for me. Come on, I know you can, just a bit longer. Shake for me."
I can't answer in words, besides a mumble of pleasure that means nothing to either of us. Your thrusts become short but hard and I know it will be coming soon.
"Oh, I'm coming!" You announce through hissed teeth, "You better cum, bitch."
I squeak when I feel the first shot of cum in me. My legs quiver around you and I can't keep rolling my hips back into yours as the last few pulses of your dick mean you've painted my insides with you. You pull back a bit, and the warmth of it begins to seep out once your cum drips out once you've pulled out.
You notice, frown, and use your fingers to shove it back in, making my back arch again. A pained, oversensitive whine peels out of my throat, but you're quick to chastise me.
"Shut up. Keep it in you, and it'll keep you warm until we get to the car."
"Yes, sir." I pant.
A moment later, you'll help me up, we'll gather my clothes and you'll hide my nakedness under a yellow poncho you've got stuffed in your back pocket. Quietly as we can, we'll slip away from the ghosts and the calm grounds of the dead, and maybe try this plan out another day.
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