Parking In Cars

Who loves getting felt up on park benches?

I do, I do!

Such slutty behavior– I'm quite sure it was all that cock fever driving me slutty crazy, my mouth a magnet to his cock.

I know I should refrain, considering I just met you– but, fuck it– your cock felt too hard under those jeans to consider refrain. It could be I knew instantly when seeing you– that your cock would end up in my mouth.

Driving away from the library to a more secluded spot that overlooked the bay– for chat, meet, and enjoyment of a rare SF sunshiny day. We did just that, for a moment. Soon we were kissing, I love kissing and I love kissing in the sunshine on park benches.

Soon my hand was reaching for cock– once it goes there it become quiet difficult– if not impossible– for me to stop, especially a nice hard cock like yours. I had to see, taste and stroke. We made out on the bench for a long while, stopping as people strolled by the relatively isolated spot. What a good day to choose to wear a skirt. Your hand reaching between my thighs, making my puffy pussy all wet and greedy. We sat on that bench wrestling around, trying to look like we were not really wrestling around– working each up and bringing it back down several times before we decide to go back to the car.

The back seat has lots of room for us as we climb in the back– settling again our newly nervous just met figures. Sitting together we let the chill go, because even in a sunny SF day– there is still a chill. We sit closer and closer– soon our fumbling and groping continue– both of us ready to explode with the implications of what is about to happen. Our lips find each others again, did I mention I love kissing? My hands continue their education– already having felt the hardness I could produce– I had to know for sure what is under those jeans.

Again, I begin my slow pursuit– I am never in a hurry to discover a new cock– I like to take my time– learn the curves, the seams, the scent, the way your tip glistens with the drip of pre-cum. My hands begin to unbuckle your belt, despite the mild struggle you lean back and let me do it– I like that. Once undone– a unison sigh seems to release into the air– now I am really hungry and my pussy is thumping from the inside, but I still take my time– even though I am only on my lunch hour. Spreading the fly of your jeans wide open to expose your black cotton underwear, letting my hand feel your rock, your curve– letting my head drop so I can run my cheek along the length of your shaft– or at least as much as I can from your open fly, I run my tongue over the fabric covering your cock– letting you know just how much I want you in my mouth.

I pull back the fabric to reveal the tip, shinny and dripping– I take my greedy lick. One taste is it all it takes– shifting postions- on my knees, hiking my skirt enough to spread my thighs and gain a solid cock suck loving stance. There is no stopping now. Your shift allows me more, greater access. Pulling the band of your underwear down reveals your groomed crown around the base of your shaft. My lips drop and kisses to the tip, lick, spit drops, and fingers roll across the head of your cock lubricating the spit in. Looking up I watch your head lob backward in enjoyment, your lips parting.

My mouth drops, my tongue swirls around you, and I begin my act of cock love. Leaning back, enjoying what I am doing for nice long while before you tell me that you rarely cum from head. I take that as a goal, a challenge.

"Perhaps you just haven't had the right mouth."

But, honestly I don't care if you ever come, I will keep sucking and licking that sweet cock as long a I want. But, you know it dosn't take that long…

"What about hand jobs, do you cum from hand jobs?"

I dont wait for an answer, I let my hands and mouth slide your shaft. I already know I can make you cum, I know by the sounds coming from you, the way your body has tensed and your cock has risen even a bit more. With your branch in my hands I whisper-

"I think I can make you cum with my mouth."

The combination of the hand and mouth, my hand cupping and rotating around the head of your cock– the sliding down the length of your shaft with my mouth– then swallowing the tip, my tongue sliding in your slit to get the salty brine of clear cum.

Your sighs, turn to pants, and heavy breathed releases.

"Don't stop, I'm gonna cum, please don't stop."

I love setting goals and reaching them.

My ass and pussy begin to bounce in earnest, because now I want to be fucked, and even though I know I'm going to have to wait for that– I still bounce on your pretend cock, while I begin drain the real one.

It's hard to tell how someone is going to cum for the first time (ahh the joys of the new). I know it's coming, but just how– will it end up deep in my throat, how will it taste, will it spill out my lips or will it shoot out like a backseat comedy?

Anther plea– "Don't stop."

Moans, my own, fill the car, because when it get this close– I want to cum too– my cunt still bouncing all over invisible cock.

The jerk and the pulse hit, and your cum fill my mouth and spills out with small splashes– it's everywhere and nowhere that matters, on my shirt covering my tits, on your shirt, on your belly, my fingers. You taste good, cum kisses– taste your own cum in my mouth.

It all cleaned up and now one knows what I did druing my lunch break.

Or do they?

Republished with permission from Library Vixen. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo courtesy of Backseat Bangers.