Behaving Like Adults

Bigtits

I stretch upwards, leaning back over the highest bar of the little wooden bridge, enjoying the heat of the sunshine, the breeze on my skin. I stay there, bent half backwards with my arms over my head, enjoying the peace of the park, the ducks quacking and splashing, small children hitting each other far enough away for their raucous squeals to blend into a pleasant sort of murmur. I feel my brain start to switch off; my muscles grow loose and relaxed.

I have been lulled into such a soporific state that when I hear footsteps crunching towards me on the gravel, it barely occurs to me to open my eyes, till I feel the planks of the bridge ring under the confident tread of a tall young man. My eyes snap open, but it would feel silly to suddenly spring to attention, so I stay there, all stretched out, my breasts thrust forward by my posture and positively begging for attention, with my nipples hardened by the cool breeze.

He smiles at me openly with that lovely dimple people get when they really mean a smile and I grin in response, I can’t avoid it, he is the most beautiful man I’ve seen for a long time. About an inch over six foot tall he’s lean, but muscled – not that awful scrawny lankiness of teenage boys – with lightly tanned skin, dark chocolate coloured hair and the most spectacularly green eyes. His chin and cheeks are shadowed with dark stubble and his eyes have feathery smile lines around them.

Barely out of my teens I have only just started to get over my fondness for rather effeminate, teenaged boys. No longer do I lust over rounded cheeks and a smooth chest, now I find myself turned on by hard angles and wiry hair, an elegantly sculptured muscle and a confidence bordering on arrogance. I smile at this gorgeous man, but inwardly my mouth is hanging open and my heart dances the Tarantella on my stomach as my body flashes with desire.

“Careful you don’t do yourself a mischief,” he says to me, as he walks past, “bending double like that.”

His eyes linger on my breasts as he looks at me and reluctantly I bring my arms down from over my head, lest it look too ‘posed.’

“I won’t,” I say. Then, as a flurry of wings startle him, “but you’d best watch out for low-flying pigeons.”

“Thanks for the advice” he grins, then wanders over towards a bench by the lake.

“Any time” I mutter to his back. I watch him walk away from me, measuring every tense and release of his buttocks and thighs inside the thin denim of his jeans.

I feel my face flush as the adrenalin of my desire kicks in, I can’t believe what an intense response I have had to him. I want him so desperately. I turn round and hang over the bridge looking down into the water, imagining him coming back, moving towards me, putting his arms on the bar either side of me and leaning his body in towards me. I can almost feel the heat of his breath, the weight of his body, the hardness of his cock.

My breath comes fast and shallow, my nipples throb through the lace of my bra and thin cotton top, my cunt clenches and relaxes as if his cock were pushing inside me and my knickers get damp from my arousal. I swallow hard and try to stop thinking about him, this handsome and disturbing stranger, but I still have the surge of energy inside me. Thoughtlessly I break into a run, my legs pounding the ground as I try to outrun my own feelings. I run the entire length of the lake before I grow too out of breath to continue, then I fall against a tree and pant. The bark is rough and warm against my cheek and I run my fingers up the trunk, trying to calm myself.

After a few minutes I move away from the tree, wandering heedlessly from the waterside into the bracken that covers that area of the park. It is midsummer and the plants reach high up, almost to my shoulders. There are a few paths that have been broken in, but you can break these off and clamber through the growth until you’re far away from any people.

I used to do this with my sister or my girlfriends when I was younger, if you trample round for a little while you can create a small clearing, like an alien crop circle, where you can lurk, completely unseen, for as long as you want. I do this, marching as far away from the noise of people as possible, holding my skirt wrapped tight around my legs to stop the bracken from scratching the tender skin on my thighs. I make a small clearing and lie my cardigan, which had been tied round my waist, down on the ground to sit on.

I try to just concentrate on my breathing, but all I can think of is how good it would feel to be kissed by him, to have his stubble grazing my face, my throat, my breasts, my thighs. I start stroking my breast, feeling the nipple harden again as I tease it and pinch it. I put my hand inside my top and pull the cup down under my tit, so I can feel the soft skin under my fingers, then I start tracing small circles on my stomach with my other hand, moving my fingers down lower and lower till I’m touching myself – even through my beşiktaş escort skirt I can feel the heat and the moistness of my pussy.

I’m so turned on I can’t think of anything else. I lie back on the ground, and watch the clouds move across the sky as I pinch and squeeze my breast and rub my clit with my fingers, the fabric of my skirt sweeping my thighs and adding their caress to the overwhelming sensations I’m experiencing.

I’m unaware of being watched till I hear someone saying something to me. I shoot upright and pull my hands away, but my face is aflame and my whole body is tingling from the orgasm I had been so close to having.

“What?” I blurt, I can’t bear to look this intrusive stranger in the face.

“I said I’m very sorry, I didn’t mean to just, um, you know… interrupt” says a deep, male voice with a hint of embarrassment and a hint of a smile.

It sounds familiar, but I can’t believe fate would be so cruel as to send the man I had been fantasising about in on me. I look up and see that it is him and my entire body folds in on itself with shame and humiliation. I can’t help seeing myself through his eyes and I feel so foolish and dirty – getting myself off in a public place like some shameless whore.

“Oh God,” I mutter, though I’m not in the least bit religious, blasphemy seemed to be appropriate, “Oh God, oh no.” I can’t even be coherent.

“I’m so sorry” he says, “I saw you running off and I wondered if you were OK, so I came after you, it was really hard finding you in all this bracken even though I’d seen where you went. I really didn’t mean to embarrass you, I’ll go away and leave you, um, alone.” I can hear a trace of amusement in his voice, but something else, too, it sounds almost like reluctance…

“You don’t have to go” I offer, sitting up and trying to re-arrange my clothes to make sure I was decent. “Not if you don’t want to.”

“Well, I’d like to stay, if you really don’t mind. You see, I brought you an ice cream.”

I look at him again and sure enough he’s holding a white chocolate coated ice cream out to me in one hand, while a similar ice cream drips slowly over his other hand.

“Oh. Thank you” I say, reaching forward to take it from him. “Would you like to sit down?”

I move over to one side to make room opposite me for him to sit, which he does, elegantly folding his long legs underneath him and resting his elbows on his knees. He sucks the liquid ice cream off his hand, then starts to lick the ice cream still on the stick.

I try to concentrate on removing the wrapper from mine and biting through the chocolate to the creamy vanilla underneath, but even when I’m not looking at him I can see the deft caress of his tongue against the stick as he licks the ice cream off and can’t help but imagine it doing the same to my body.

Maybe he has the same thought, because his cheeks flush, his eyes glitter and he makes sure to hold my glance when he makes his next assault on the ice cream. I ask him why he’s bought me one – apparently he thought I was upset at something so he decided he’d cheer me up. Not that I actually needed much cheering up as it happened, he says with a grin and a wink.

He finishes his ice cream long before I do and sits watching me as I eat mine. Something about his gaze on me as I eat it makes me long to tease him, I start sucking the creamy length of the ice cream in a distinctly sexual way, twirling my tongue around the end, before inserting the whole into my mouth again.

I know it’s crude and unsubtle, not to mention undignified, but my whole mind and body are focused on the thought of sex and satisfaction and when presented with such a phallic object I can’t help but fellate it.

“Please stop that” he says after a short while, “I don’t think I can bear to watch you any longer and not do something.” I look at him, amazed, the ice cream still half in my mouth.

“What do you mean?” I ask, pulling it out so fast that a smear of creamy liquid gets left on my face.

“You know exactly what I mean” he replies, leaning across and running his thumb up my cheek to wipe off the mess. He holds it out to me, his eyes locked on mine, I open my lips obediently and bend my head to take it in my mouth.

The warm, salt taste of his thumb and the texture of his skin forms such a contrast to the silky blandness of the ice cream that I linger on it longer than I would have otherwise. He groans as I run my tongue across the tip when I release his thumb back to him, then looks at me quizzically as he slowly runs his thumb across my lips, and, receiving no rebuff, strokes his hand down the side of my face. I savour the warm roughness of his palm, pressing my face against it.

He moves to sit beside me and starts kissing my temple with small, dry kisses. I hold my breath, every nerve alive to his touch. I moan as he keeps kissing me with these tender little kisses, my etiler escort head supported by his hand, his fingers tangled in my long hair. I lean back, longing to lie down and surrender myself to this blissful seduction.

He lowers my head to the ground and puts his free arm across my belly, his hand on my bare waist where my top and skirt have parted. Running his thumb in little circles on the sensitive skin just above my hip he kisses his way down my throat, his stubble grazing my skin just as I had imagined.

I sigh and moan again, arching my back to push my breasts towards him as I put my hand on his head and pull him to me. I can smell the slightly citrus smell of the shampoo he’s used all mixed up with some delicious cologne and that incredibly sexy, musky smell men get when they’re hot.

I try to push him onto my breasts, but he won’t let me and pulls himself up onto his elbows. Slowly he leans across me till his weight is on my chest, then lowers his face to mine. We both have our eyes wide open as our lips get closer, our breath mingling, then his mouth touches mine and a static shock jumps across our lips. They’re hot and dry against mine, which are still cool and moist from the ice cream now melting, half-eaten, on the ground at my side.

We kiss with closed mouths for the longest time, getting a sense of each other, carefully shifting until his entire body is laid alongside mine, one of his thighs thrust between my legs. I can feel his cock hardening so I roll my hips to rub against him, feeling his thigh rub my pussy at the same time. Slowly he slides his tongue between my lips, then we’re kissing hard and passionately, his lips firm and dry against mine as his tongue weaves around my mouth, penetrating me as thoroughly as his cock could.

We writhe against each other on the ground, dry humping like randy teenagers, enjoying the bizarre sensuality of being this intimate with a complete stranger in a public place in the middle of the day. The risk and the newness heighten the experience until we are both pinching and squeezing and scratching at each other’s bodies, desperately trying to get our fill of the other.

Roughly he pulls my top up so he can see my breasts, the black lace curving sexily around the full, pale flesh, the pinkness of the aureole visible, nipples straining through the fabric. He exclaims when he sees them, then takes a handful of flesh and kneads it as he presses his mouth against mine again.

I half sit up and struggle to remove my top, I’m so aroused I don’t care about the setting, I just want to be naked for him, so he can touch me wherever he wants. He reaches round and tugs my bra undone, my breasts lying plumply against my chest like silk cushions as I lie down again.

I watch as he removes his polo shirt in one motion, his stomach muscles tense as he holds himself reared up. When he lies back on top of me I almost cry out, the feeling of his skin and the wiry hairs on his chest rubbing against my bare and sensitive breasts is so extreme.

We lie still for a moment, savouring that first sensation of naked skin on naked skin, before resuming our caresses with even greater fervour than before. He’s rough and hasty with me now, but I’m so deeply aroused that it causes only pleasure when he pinches, then sucks and bites my nipples, or crushes my entire breast in his strong hand. His other hand is creeping up my leg as we kiss and I’m only partly aware of it until he gets to my underwear and starts sliding his finger under the elastic round my hip.

“Not yet” I order him in a whisper, pushing upwards so he rolls onto his back and I can lean over on top of him.

I hold him there for a minute, my hands pressed on his chest, his mouth half open, lips red and swollen from our frantic kissing. His chest rises and falls fast with his panting, his stomach hollowing out under his ribcage, his hips holding his trousers away from his stomach, concave as he lies on his back, the trail of dark hair from his belly button leading the eye down towards his crotch and the enticing gap between flesh and fabric.

I run my hand softly down over his stomach, a brief caress over his hip, then back to the centre, where I dip my hand slowly, teasingly into the top of his trousers, inside the broad elastic of his boxers- taught across his lower belly, then I can feel the course, springy hair under my fingers, the heat of his groin, the groan he utters which starts in his belly.

He catches my wrist in his hand and pulls it roughly away, holding it gripped as he forces me onto my back again. I sigh with pleasure, I have always enjoyed being slightly submissive. In all my fantasies I am controlled, coerced, forced into pleasure, but I have never experienced it in real life. All the boys I’d bedded have been pleasurable, but none of them had the confidence to hold me down like this; to push me about a little, dominate me and now taksim escort it’s happening I find it as exciting and enjoyable as I always thought I would.

I give all control up to him now, no longer trying to explore his body or to stop him when he pushes my skirt up to my waist and pulls my legs apart so he can run his fingers lightly up and down my inner thighs, slowly moving closer and closer to that hot, throbbing point I’m longing for him to touch. He carefully slides one finger inside the elastic and starts stroking the outer lip of my pussy, this is too much! I wriggle and squirm like a fish on a line trying to move his finger closer to where I want it, but he won’t let me.

He has his free hand flat on my belly, holding my hips to the ground and I have to stay still and let him caress me as he will. As my moans and whispers become more and more frustrated, he moves his finger away and pulls my underwear right down, pushing them off my legs till they hang loosely on one ankle.

I am now naked from the waist down and the waist up, my skirt pushed up over my hips and my legs pulled apart leaving me exposed to his voracious gaze like an erotic exhibit. I find this almost unbearably arousing, being looked at, observed, desired. I desperately want him to touch me, to fill up the aching, empty feeling in my belly, to mould my body against his, but at the same time I want to be watched like this, till my whole being becomes sexual and sensualised.

I am so glad when he starts pulling at my skirt. I want to be naked now, to feel the sun and air on my skin as he begins caressing me again. I watch as he unbuttons his jeans, his thick, hard cock straining against the tight cotton of his pants, then he pulls those off as well and it slips free to hang, suspended in the dark thatch of curls between his legs, pale and swollen with a darker tip, skin stretched absolutely taught across it, veins swelling through to the surface, the tip glistening. I stare at it as, a moment ago, he was staring at my pussy, pink and wet, open to him like some exotic flower, moisture trickling down from my cunt and over my thighs.

I lick my lips nervously, his cock is so magnificent it is almost threatening. He sees this and a thought seems to occur to him, I watch as his pupils dilate with excitement and he smiles. He’s leaning over me now, kissing me roughly on the lips, his cock bobbing against my belly, leaving a smear of moisture there. Carefully, watching it, he trails it up my body, bumping lightly over each rib, pausing to caress each breast, each erect nipple, marking me with his scent like an animal.

I know what he’s going to do to me and my whole body trembles with anticipation as his cock gets closer and closer to my face. He reaches his hand between his legs and steadies his cock so he can guide it carefully into my mouth. There’s nowhere I can go, he has me pinned between his thighs against the ground, all I can do is open my mouth and accept his huge, throbbing cock. The skin feels burning hot and silken as it slides between my wet lips, I am utterly aware of him, his weight, his rich, musky smell, the gap between my legs where I want his cock to be penetrating me, the pressure at the back of my throat where it really is penetrating me.

As he lowers his weight onto my face I start sucking at him, I can’t believe how erotic it is to be pinned under him like this, swallowing his dick. I’ve always loved giving head, but usually it’s me that’s been in control, kneeling over the boy as he lay trembling and grateful for this amazing thing I was doing. Now I am the one trembling, desperately swallowing his flesh, trying to take a breath. The world slows down as I suck him, all I know is this huge mouthful, his hair against my face, his buttocks tensing as he thrusts, my hands pulling at him, pulling him deeper into me. It’s terrifying and tantalising at the same time.

His hairy, muscled legs are clamped either side of my body, my face covered by his pelvis and belly, my chest weighted by his thrusting arse, but my belly and thighs and the hot, aching places between them are utterly naked, exposed to the air and whoever might walk past. This vulnerability builds on the urge to be touched until I have to take my hand away from his backside and force it down under his thigh to my pussy. I slide a tentative finger into the slick wetness of my cunt, but before I can do more than wet my finger, before I even sense its presence, he is pulling my hand away, pinning my arm above my head as he pounds his cock into my throat faster and faster.

He comes with the negative silence that men create when they try to be silent during orgasm, a huge shuddering breath, his entire body reverberating to the pleasure in his loins, then just the gush of hot liquid into my mouth. I can’t believe the amount, it seems endless, wave after wave of bitter saltiness being forced into my mouth and when it overflows, my nose as well. I cough and gasp and when he’s empty he pulls away from me and wipes away the excess. I look up at him gratefully as he bends to kiss me with a tenderness that seems so strange considering how little we know each other, yet so inevitable considering what we’ve just done. Amazingly he doesn’t seem to mind tasting himself in my mouth and we kiss deeply and thoroughly.