Finally The Shed

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He finally shows her the shed.
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Climbing into the Blazer in the early afternoon, broad daylight, was nerve racking enough, on lookers, witnesses everywhere, he picked me up in the parking lot at the Wal-Mart near his house, less than a minute away. This was the routine, ours anyway, I parked in one place, and he picked me up and took me to another. It had been a few years, since we made it a frequent occurrence, but you quickly fall back into old habits, and he was not a habit, he was an intense addiction, and today he was taking me to his house, well not just his house, their house. His wife, she wasn’t at home of course, but she was never far from my mind.

My mind was racing with a million thoughts about him being next to me, people seeing us together, the inside of his truck, us being together at all and through all the confusion and rambling thought in my brain I was struck by my surroundings.

The neighborhood was beautiful, pristine almost. Gorgeous two story brick homes, sprawling yards, flags flying patriotically in almost every other yard, picture perfect I thought. We didn’t talk much in the truck, nervous tension takes a hold of us it seems when we aren’t inside walls of some kind, and even with all the nervous tension, my legs still managed to shake, for no reason, sitting so close to him, then my hands, and most other body parts quickly follow suit.

We pulled into his driveway, his house, a dark, brick and wood ranch style home, sat back farther from the visibility of the road than the others, but it was impressive. We got out of the truck, and I was immediately aware of everyone around us, well nobody was out, but a neighbor on each side, and they were relatively far away. We spent some time in the garage, looking at this and that; I wanted to go inside, I wanted to ask to just peek in the door, but he wouldn’t have let me. I could feel her everywhere, her house, her garage, her husband.

He had been telling me, in our long distance conversations, that he wanted to bring me here, on one of the very few visits we manage to have together, show me the house, the garage, the shed…I thought, why the shed?...but I quickly learned the reason.

We left the garage and walked around to the back of the house, and the yard, sloping down a bit, it was thick with trees and plants native to the Eastern United States. Sitting back, about 150 feet from the house, was the shed. Not small, not large, lightwood, very unassuming.

He walked in front of me and unlocked the two side-by-side doors, and opened it up. He walked in first, and then I followed. Nothing out of the norm, I did first notice two thickly woven straps hanging straight ahead from the ceiling of the shed; I immediately thought how nice to be strung up inside the depths of his shed, for him to do whatever he pleased with. The straps were actually to assist in lifting the front tire of a motorcycle off the ground. For maintenance and such. Being the complete and total Bike Guy that he is and always has been, there were motorcycle related items everywhere, tools, accessories, an actual motorcycle.

A red FZR1000, under track lighting displayed as if in a showroom against the side wall, it added a nice effect. The whole room inside the shed reminded me of exactly what makes me want him, what makes me think about him all the time, no matter what I’m doing. The shed just bled everything that made him a man to me.

Being slightly hesitant to move towards me, he leaned against the waist high workbench that extended all the way across the other sidewall. He stood there smoking a cigarette, one foot over the other, hat, glasses, jeans…very nice I thought. He was in the middle of a sentence, something about motorcycles I’m sure, and I took it upon myself to walk over and stand an inch from his face, trying to make him let down his guard, looking him straight in the eyes, it didn’t phase him, he just met my stare, and I’m sure the subsequent throbbing between my legs was somehow started at this moment, with his fucking eyes, his beautiful deceptive gaze back at me.

He leaned forward, the inch or so left between us, and kissed me, it was soft, careful, and I barely tasted him. When he was this close to me, my hands tremble, so I put them on his sides, I feel his body, him breathing, and he does the same with his hands. Things begin carefully, cautiously, between us at first, still re-learning each other’s bodies, although I want nothing more so than for him to just pull me into him as close as possible and bend me over the workbench and just… well, anyway, his hands were resting above my hips, holding me, tightly, not just sitting there.

I could feel him breath against my body, and it made me shake. I tried to kiss him, deeply, slowly, make him feel the intensity of what was behind it, as carefully as I could, and I began un tucking his shirt, as I like to do, slipping my hand up the second shirt he was wearing beneath. I ran my tongue from his Adam’s apple to his left ear, tasted it, and felt his body jump, so imperceptibly; I had to be this close to even notice it. I hold my breath, close to his ears, so I can hear him; catch his breath ever so slightly. His hand had slipped down between my legs, still wearing my jean shorts, he ran his hand between my thighs, up into the crevice where they meet, it was warm and I could feel the smallest of movement he made, his other hand inside my shirt holding my breast.

I can’t breath deeply, every breath is shallow, I can get lost, even as his tongue is melting in my mouth, in thoughts about him on top of me, beneath me, inside of me, I can’t however, hold onto any of these thoughts long. My entire body, every nerve wakes up and stands at attention when he is in the same room, so here I was, smashed up against him, leaning on the workbench, noticing how hard he was, against my thigh. As soon as I felt him get rock hard, I wanted to taste and consume every part of him. I put my hand on the obvious enlargement going on in his pants, and rubbing him back and forth slowly, but hard, I felt his breath grow short, and he kissed me deeply. My heart was already pounding out of my chest, when I unbuttoned his jeans and freed his, very impressive hard-on, my heart almost jumped out of my chest.

I looked at his eyes, and I can see the want he has in them. After I pulled his two shirts over his head, kissing his neck, the space where his neck and shoulder meet, tasting his chest, his nipples, one by one, biting his stomach softly, biting his shoulder again softly, he quietly warns me to leave reminders for him only below his neck. Where he can hide them. How sad I thought, that every inch of this man isn’t noticed daily. I moved my way down his body, leaving his erection against his stomach, hard as it was, kissing his stomach around it, not really touching it yet, my hands on his stomach and his thigh, making sure he can feel me breathe on it, and still not touch it. I stand back up abruptly, telling him to grab the office chair; it is a few feet away, under the workbench. He walks over and gets the chair, rolls it over, I push his jeans down to the floor, and he steps out of them as I gently push him down into the chair, telling him to have a seat.

He sat down and I took off his hat and glasses, sat them on the workbench and returned, standing in front of him. He has this look, not a smile or even a smirk, it is just his fucking eyes, intimidate me, and make me want to do anything he says. But he doesn’t say anything, he puts his hands on my hips and pulls me to him, seated he is only facing my tits, kissing my chest a little, running his hand between my legs, making me throb inside, just for a second. I kneel down, and as soft as I can I kiss his thigh, right next to his balls, a part I truly appreciate, and look for every excuse to go near.

I run my tongue along the line of his thigh and his body, closer, moving in, bit by bit to his by now, very massive hard-on. I can feel him watching me, anticipating me, he does not like to squander this feeling, and he likes me to go slowly, draw it out, make him wait, so he wants it more. He breathes somewhat heavier, as I near his dick, still looking; he is not staring, yet, just watching me. I just decided to reach up and hold onto hit, firmly. I looked at it for a minute and in all honesty can say that every time I see it, and it is seldom and not often enough, I mention to myself how fucking striking it is, and to a man, it just can’t be understood how rare to see a beautiful cock. A nice, thick, hard on. This man had one. I held him in my hand and I can tell he likes the way my hand feels wrapped around his dick, his jaw clenches every few seconds, one of his hands is on my shoulder, near my neck, the slightest pressure, and having his hands on my body, makes my knees week, while I’m on them. I have always loved the act itself, going down on him, but the subservient nature of this, with him, made me very wet, in an instant.

I am in no way a passive person, but I would do anything this guy said, addicted, while his hard on is in my hand and I am holding tightly, running it up and down the length of him. Squeezing harder on the upstroke, running my thumb over the ridge, on the underside of his cock, where the head meets up with the rest of him. This is also the first place I like to put my tongue, with my hand still wrapped around him, I just taste the head of his dick, swollen, impressively too, just running my tongue over that ridge, around the head, and I am kind of teasing myself.

My hand has found its way into my shorts, and I was going to rub my clitoris, but noticed immediately and was surprised how wet and hot I was. I ran my finger around my clit at first, never directly on it, barely applying pressure, but the more I play with myself the more I begin to enjoy the blowjob I am in the middle of. Sliding down farther and farther with every stroke, impossible to swallow this man whole, I would if I could, believe me I try, but as far down as I go, he takes in a breath, and clenches his jaw and I am soft against his cock with my lips as I go down, and take him in, but when I slide back up his hard on, slowly, as tightly wrapped around him as I can, sucking on the head of his cock and then swallowing him again.

My clit is really swollen, and I run my finger over it every few times around, just lightly, and it makes me jump, I wish his hands were between my legs, inside my shorts…I drop him from my hand and stand and unbutton my shorts, a black and red g string, tiny roses or something, I left my black tank top on, my hair down. I knelt back down, and he leaned forward before I could get his cock , that was in my hand, into my mouth, his hand was inside my panties, immediately knew where to find my clit, rubbing it, pressing hard on it, I moved twice from him, while he was in my mouth so I wouldn’t come , I wanted to delay it, I never want anything this badly, this intensely, I want to savor it.

I have his cock in my mouth, mostly the head by now, I keep stopping every few seconds to stop his trembling, I can feel fluids running up the back of his dick while it’s in my mouth, and I have to stop, for a second. He just keeps looking at me, not directly really, catching his breath, and I keep my hand around his hard cock, running it up over the head and back a little quicker by now I think from his hand holding me there, his fingers right outside of my pussy, I wanted to slide down onto his fingers, feel him move inside of me, but I wait because I like to feel the head of his cock first, for it to be the first thing I feel inside of me. My clit was swollen, my pussy was swollen, and literally, throbbing, I could feel my heart beating in my thighs. I wondered if he realized how wet I was.

God how I wanted so many times for his hands to be on my body, feeling me, his hand between my legs holding me, feeling me soaking wet in his hand. Here he was and I could feel the head of his cock begin to throb and knowing that there isn’t much time after that, I stopped, and had to grab his hand to keep from coming, I was barely holding up, if I would have breathed at the wrong moment I’ have erupted into orgasmic convulsions, but I would keep stopping him, what the fuck was wrong with me?

I stood up, impatient and had been waiting and wanting to fuck him. Stress relief, comfort, fucking panicked arousal and chemical reaction to him, so many reasons. I stopped thinking and took off my panties, and put my leg over his lap, and stood over him in the chair straddling him, and he grabbed his cock and sort of handed it to me as I sat down slowly, and putting the head of his dick against the opening, to my pussy. I wanted so bad to just come, he rubbed the head of his cock a little bit against me, my pussy, which was dripping by now, wanting to fuck him. I slid him inside of me and I gasped a little bit, when I felt the head of his hard on, when it first goes in, he’s so swollen, the head is huge and he is fucking rigid, but the head, I love the way it feels when he first enters me, my pussy feels tight around his head. I only slide down just enough the first few times to feel the head, and his face is in my neck, and when he breaths against me I want to tell him he can’t breath, I’ll faint, this feels so fucking good.

I feel him moving my hips a little, and my pussy is still throbbing, wanting all of him, wanting him to just bury himself inside of me, but we’ll both be done if he does that, so I keep fucking him, slowly, carefully . Not even thinking about balance or my surroundings, and I have had my arms wrapped around him, for leverage, while he watches as his cock is in and out of my body, while I watch as his cock slides in and out of me, I liked to see it. I started to really want to come, his cock felt huge and fucking rock hard inside of me, I was going down half way and then almost all the way, and I could hear him, in my neck, feel him kiss me, feel him tasting me, feel his breath, made me want to come.

His hand was holding my back, and my hips. He would play with my clit every few seconds, and when our pace picked up a little, I knew it was on its way, so I started to just fuck him. He was breathing heavy and damp all over from sweat; I was memorizing the smell of him, sexually, like this. He pulled me into him hard, his cock slid deep, all the way into my pussy, and he caught his breath and stopped. I would have begged him, but all I had to say was “please don’t stop, I’m going to come”, softly next to his ear. But it was a desperate response, I was about to lose it, and him inside of me, my legs stopped working and that’s when he said he was going to come now and he started to fuck me. It wasn’t teasing, or waiting, he was deep inside of me. I pressed down hard onto him, pressing my clit against his pubic bone, pulling him inside of me, deeper and deeper. My pussy started contracting in waves, and the head of his cock throbbed a little, his arms, his whole body was wrapped around me, me in his lap, him deep inside of me, and he tensed up so hard around me I couldn’t breathe.

I was coming all around his hard on, feeling every inch of him, biting down on him without realizing it. He just keeps pulling me into him, I can’t get any closer, I can hear him breathing, coming, and I can feel it inside of me, hot and wet and still making me come. I am right next to his ear telling him I’m coming and it makes him tense. We slow down a bit, convulsing, aftershocks, my pussy sending a shiver through my abdomen, up my spine, my legs still not working. He kisses me, deeply and then soft, still able to take my breath, after all of that with just the kiss...

A little later, I said goodbye to the red FZR under the track lighting, said goodbye to the chair and the bench and the memorabilia on the walls and the door. We walked out, a few feet from one another, again under the ever-present eye of everyone else. We got into the Blazer and he drove me back the parking lot, at the Wal-Mart only a minute from his house. We said our goodbyes, always informal, and with people looking from their cars or from the lot, I got out, and into my car. He drove off, and put in a cd, and started my car, waiting the standard 5 minutes, or so. I drove away, thinking he was right, it was an excellent shed.

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