After a series of missed calls, different numbers and a bit of anxiety about whether he would even show, we met for a date after he finished work.
The way he hugged me when he saw me, I knew. He had an idea about where we should catch a drink – this area near a canal that was attempting a ‘tropical’ theme way too early in the summer. It was barely June and still chilly.
We lay back on deck chairs, chatting about this and that. It was smooth, actually. We then retire to the ‘cabana’ for our next drink – somewhere a little more private. We get deeper in the conversation and the hands start wandering. Both pairs.
Some other couple came in, obviously with the same idea, so we all sat there on our best behaviour, until we couldn’t hold out anymore and needed to find a place to be.
He’d already asked about mine and I just wasn’t sure. I was staying for free at the real kindness of strangers and the last thing I wanted to do was make enemies by bringing boys around. I was shy, still.
He guided me into a park. Well, a kids playground, really, like I was 16 again. Maybe it was too gauche, but we had already spent ages kissing and holding hands and feeling each other up along the back streets, it was getting urgent.
And I love fucking outdoors, so I was pleased, although unusually nervous about getting busted.
We checked to see if anyone was about – it was dark, no moon and a Sunday night. Quiet.
He sat down on the bench and pulled me to sit on top of him. We made out again – lordy, his lips were soft and I actually could have kissed them for weeks.
He lifted my shirt, kissed my nipples, licked them, holding my arms above my head as he paid each one a little attention. Annoying, because my hands wanted to be all over his smooth chest, his warm body. Eventually, he let me at it and I dove straight for his waistband and struggled with the belt (the belt! It’s always the belt.)
I got off his lap and knelt on the ground, grabbed his cock and started licking and sucking it, not caring about getting my knees dirty. Feeling him relax into it and hearing him moan was hot. But we didn’t really have time to spare, so he pulled me up and turned me around, lifted up my skirt and started rubbing his hot, smooth and amazing cock up against my arse, whilst I bent over looking for the condoms in my bag.
I quickly put one on him and he turned me back around, grabbed my hips and guided his cock in – I bent over further, taking it all the way in and he set the pace. I was actually kind of awkward, hands on the ground, bent all the way over with him on the bench still, but it was fucking quick. We rattled and rolled, I tried to keep my noise levels down. He didn’t really make a noise, I wasn’t even sure if he liked it, or if it was just business. Maybe he was worrying about getting busted.
But he fucked me hard and fast from that bench, rubbed my bare arse and then a quiet, hoarse and desperate whisper ‘oh, I’m going to come!. And reader, he did. Even with the condom on, I felt the hot come shooting desperately out of him.
He didn’t stay long inside – ripped the condom off quickly and was dressed, sitting on the bench, whilst I was sitting hunched, legs askew, knickers around my ankles, panting. I didn’t have any tissues, so just pulled everything up, slightly sticky, and collected my things.
It wasn’t as erotic as I thought it was going to be. I don’t know whether that’s because I still didn’t know him all that well to read him. But it seemed to be mutual.
We walked in silence to the station. There was a sinking feeling that it was all just cold, used. That the date was all just a ruse and the conversation just coercion. But as we got on the train, we warmed up again. Sitting close, chatting about the trains, about food, plans to eat together. I had forgotten that it wasn’t that late.
He asked me if I was sure that we couldn’t go back to my place. I really wasn’t. So we ate anyway, regained a connection again after the weird anti-climax and as we walked to the next station, the heavens opened up. We got absolutely saturated. We were in the middle of the street, holding onto each other, I lifted his shirt to feel his wet, warm skin – he drew me to him. He was wet, and hard again. I was just all wet.
Fuck it. Let’s go back to my place and get dry, at least. ‘Dry’ was the new euphemism
So we snuck in. I scoped it to see if the night-owl housemate was up and when the coast was clear, we crept in like an SAS team. Only one creak of the floor boards.
We stripped off immediately and rather than thrust through it, we lay back, listening to music. We didn’t rush, but allowed the horny desperation from the train ride to build again. I think I made the first move. I shoved my hand straight into his boxers, grabbed his balls and held them tight. I felt his cock get hard straight away and I got to my knees, I started licking just his balls and holding him in a bit of suspense. He just rubbed his hands all over my body, like he was getting lost in the terrain.
We kissed and after condom #2 broke, and #3 put on, I climbed on top again. I rode him for a while and it was jsut nice to look down on him, see him smiling in into the quite, chilled out grinding at 2am. I could feel him almost come and then he caught himself. At that moment, he sat up, flipped me over and in time to the music, ground his dick deep into me. He was reaching and he caught me.
I love a man’s hands grabbing firmly on my hips and he hit a sweet spot. I came hard and quietly. It was like trying to hold your breath in the surf. I held on for dear life as I felt my cum running down my legs and soaking his thighs too. He came with three shudders and the smell of his hair oil exploded into my senses.
We held each other there for what felt like 10 minutes, almost falling asleep bent over the side of the bed.
He had to go home – it was 3am and he had to get up and work. I crept naked with him to the door, kissed him and wished him well in a whisper.