The Fountain

I had enough courage in my system to call him. Counting on my friends Patron, Jack Daniels, and that sneaky little bitch named Zinfandel, I hazily looked at the contacts on my phone and found him.

"Hello?" the gruff voice answered.

"Hey! It's Scarlett," I said, in a higher pitch than I'd expected. "I'm sorry, were you sleeping?" It was meant to sound concerning and apologetic, but the unconstrained  giggle that escaped me made it sound quite the opposite.

"Yes, I was, but it's fine. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine…sort of," I managed. I was so giddy; I could only think of the possibilities, and they made me jubilant with excitement.

"Are you drunk?" He said. He sounded as amused as I did.

"Yes. Yes I am," I said proudly. It is a task to get me anywhere near tipsy, let alone full-blown intoxicated. But it was my birthday, and a girl must celebrate these milestones. "I'm sorry to call so late, but I was near by, and I seem to have lost my way home. I thought I'd call, see if you could help a gal out."

"Do I really have a choice?" He chuckled, knowing that even if he were to try to say no, I would persuade him otherwise.

"Unless you want something bad to happen to me, no you don't." We were playing coy on the phone, but he knew exactly why I called him. This was a moment in the happening; a moment we had been unexpectedly planning, something we knew was bound to happen from the first time we spoke. I was ready, and he knew if he didn't take the bait, it would never happen again. "I'm at the park near the bridge, the one with the fountain. Dress comfortably."

In about twenty minutes he appeared, wearing sweat pants, a t-shirt, and sneakers. Hands in his pockets, he approached me, smiling as he caught my gaze.

"So, why did I have to dress comfortably?" he asked, raising his eye brow comically.

"Come here, and you'll find out," said I, batting my eyelashes. I looked around, checking for any police officers or pedestrians. Even though it was near four o'clock in the morning, you never know who's walking around in New York. Removing my shoes, I asked him to give me a boost over the locked gate. Without asking any questions, he wove his fingers together, and stooped slightly as I placed one foot in his hand and hopped over the gate. I'm more than sure he could see under my skirt. I did wear shorts; I just made sure I removed them before he showed up. Perhaps the g-string he saw was a motivator because in seconds he had joined me on the other side.

We walked towards the fountain, silent. The sight itself was beautiful; it was old world architecture in a modern skyscraper world. Built in the late 1800′s, the slick black lamp posts with bronze candelabras on top, the tiered granite center overflowing with water had a golden sphere and cross reaching towards the sky, and the smaller, half circle pools surrounding the fountain was breath-taking. I dropped my shoes and purse on the ground, and slowly walked toward the structure, and trailed my finger along the course stone, the sound of the water calming me down. I began to imagine how many people have kissed at this fountain; how many lovers have met at this very location; how many have become lovers, their sins and pleasures washing away in the clarity of the water.

"What's on your mind Scarlett?" His voice reverberated in my head, awaking my senses, pulsing through my veins like a shot of epinephrine. I glance at him and smile as I hoisted myself to the edge of the fountain, swung my legs up and into the huge basin. I waded to the center and stood under the cascade, feeling the cool water hit my skin, erasing for a moment the heat and humidity from the summer air. I took a moment, and noticed through the shimmer of the water, Benoît staring at me, transfixed perhaps by the clinging of my clothes to my body, my once tight white shirt now much more tighter, my skirt clinging to my thighs, my hair in ringlets down my back. I left the rush of the fountain, reveling in the coolness it had provided for me, and sat down on the edge of the fountain, legs slightly ajar, the bright pink satin cloth shimmering in the glow of the lamp post.

"I'm wet. Can't you tell?" He approached me, removing his shirt and tossed it to the side. Before I knew it, he was wedged between my legs, touching, kissing, growing. He lifted my leg and bent down, his hot tongue flicking my clit, causing me to almost lose my balance. In attempting to ground myself, I grabbed on to him, resulting in pushing his head further into me, as I uncontrollably gasped for air. I wanted him, and whether it was the alcohol in my blood, the setting of the park, or his head between my legs, it didn't matter. My body yearned to feel him inside of me. I searched for his chin, and once found, pulled him to a standing position. I used my feet to roll down his pants, revealing that he'd expected something to happen for he wore nothing underneath. I wrapped my legs around him, drawing him near and into me all at once, slowly guiding him, pushing the string of cloth to the side. We both held our breath until he was all the way inside of me, and then a mix of exhaling and heaving as we held on to each other, the blood in our bodies rushing to one direction between us, my pussy contracting against his shaft. He grabbed hold of my ass and thrust into me in a matter that almost seemed angry, yet eager not to waste the occasion. I held on to him, arms around his neck, my nails digging into the surface of his skin as he pounds into me. Slowly I felt him lift me up until I barely grazed the granite surface and all I felt was him.

His hands scooped me up off the ledge, the hands on my buttocks staying firm, and onto the ground, where he turns me and bends me over, my hair lifelessly waving in the water. Grabbing a hold of my shoulders, he pushes into me, reaching deep inside, stretching me open. I screamed, half in pain, mostly in pleasure. His hands move slowly inward, cupping my neck, appearing to choke me. It sparked a trail of moans and screams from the deepest parts in me. He propelled himself into me, rocking me, fucking me so hard I wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. My hair began to splash in the fountain water, wetting us both as he penetrated harder and rougher into. He'd kept the promise he made me months ago: to fuck me harder than I'd ever been fucked before.

As the navy blue sky turned periwinkle, he exploded inside of me, a rush of warmth coating my insides. He collapsed onto my back, his arms wrapping around my waist as he tried to catch his breath, the sun glowing and reflecting off the glistening water. It had been an amazing night, and an unexpected morning.

Republished with permission from A True Unfolding. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo via In Focus Girls.