Park (A Sequel to Movie)

He called. She didn't answer. She told herself that after the movie experience she wasn't going to play that game. Sure, she had never before experienced such sensations in her life, but she had a real life and this was both stupid and dangerous.

He left a message. 'I'll just delete it without listening' she told herself. As soon as she heard his voice she froze, listening, her finger resting just above the delete button.

He expected her to meet him Wednesday afternoon. He did not invite her, he simply gave a date, time and place. He chose the park where they went the first time they met in person, when he was gentle, and kind, and kissed her so sweetly. His message said nothing about her calling him back, he just told her where and when. She wouldn't go.

Wednesday came. No work that day. She got the kids off to school, made coffee and worked on cleaning the kitchen while the coffee brewed. Her husband left such a mess. The guys came over the night before after happy hour, leaving beer bottles, half eaten sandwiches and frozen pizza mess everywhere. She was so frustrated at home.

It was now 10:00 a.m. Kitchen cleaned, she sat to enjoy a cup of coffee. He wanted to meet at noon. She wouldn't go, she couldn't go. She caught her hand touching her upper thigh idly, fingers gently making little circles. 'What am I doing?' she asked herself. 'Take a shower, you will feel better.'

She showered, but was distracted. As her hands cleaned her body, she thought of his hands on her. She decided to shave her legs. Today wouldn't normally have been a shaving day, but she found herself doing it without thinking about it. She shaved down there, again without thinking about it. 'Shit. I am going to go see him. We will be in a public park, it will be sweet again. I won't let it get out of hand,' she lied to herself.

She put on perfume. She reached for simple cotton panties but her hand ended up on lace ones. She started to pick out a pair of shorts, but opted for a skirt instead, something tasteful, nothing risqué. She grabbed the bra that matched the panties, and a polo that showed a bit of cleavage. She slid on sandals and found herself heading for the car.

She drove to the park. She no longer was trying to convince herself she didn't want to see him. It was a large park, an oasis of woods bisected by a ravine and a winding stream. Several different trails wound their way through the park. He said to meet him at the first bridge over the ravine. The spot where he had stopped her the first time they met and asked to kiss her. She arrived a few minutes early. 'Oh my God, I seem eager,' she marveled. Her panties were moist.

He walked up casually. She saw him coming and watched him. She chided herself as her attempts to seem casual turned into eager stares. She shifted her weight, rubbing her thighs together. Her panties were wetter. 'He is going to smell my excitement. What is wrong with me? What have I become?'

He reached her, casually placed his hand on her elbow, leaned in, kissed her cheek, brushed his lips against her ear and whispered. "You look lovely. I am so glad you made it. It would have disappointed me had you not come."

Her breath caught a little, he was pleased with her and thought she looked lovely. She felt warm inside. Then other emotions came over her. 'What does that mean, 'disappointed'? Why am I so worried about disappointing him?' She was pondering that question as he took her hand in his and led her across the bridge and to a path that winds along the river. She began to relax. It was so nice to walk with a man, hand in hand, on a beautiful day in a beautiful setting. She couldn't remember the last time her husband held her hand, romanticly or not.

After a short while he chose a less traveled path that headed away from the river. She didn't remember this path. It wound through the woods. They came upon an old bench deep in the woods. He gently ushered her to sit and he sat next to her. They faced each other and he gently took her hand in his. He was so handsome as he smiled at her. He was pleased she had come, but he didn't seem surprised. She felt warm all over, but especially down there, as he gazed upon her. She lowered her eyes demurely.

He gently took her chin in his hand and lifted her mouth up to meet his. He held the kiss, mostly closed mouthed, but open enough and offset enough for him to gently capture her upper lip between his lips. He shifted, tilting his head slightly, pressing gently, opening his mouth slightly. She reacted instinctively, her tongue meeting his. As lightheadedness set in she realized she had been holding her breath. She broke the kiss, pulled back a bit, gasped for breath. She was flushed. His smile was warm but slightly smug, or maybe just knowing. But his eyes - they both scared and excited her - looked at her with raw hunger.

He took her hand and guided her to stand before him. He remained seated. His eyes met hers, as he maintained that smile that told her she was his and that he was pleased. His eyes then traveled down her body, ever so slowly, drinking her in. She felt so naked although fully clothed. She shuddered involuntarily.

"Take them off," he finally said. Her breath caught, it was just like at the movie. She knew he meant her panties only. Even though she expected this, she still was caught unprepared. She steeled her nerves, reached under her skirt, hooked her thumbs in the waist band, and shimmied out of her panties. She handed them to him. He held them to his face, breathing in her arousal and rubbing the silky, but moist, material on his cheek. He put them in his pocket.

"Everything" he said.

She looked at him confused. He couldn't possibly expect her to take off all her clothes in the middle of a city park in broad daylight. OK, the spot was secluded and the daylight was muted by a dense canopy of branches and leaves, but someone could stumble upon them. He repeated himself: "Everything." This time with greater insistence in his voice. She pleaded. Without making a sound her lips mouthed "please, no."

He sighed, an incredibly disappointed look on his face. He stood, ignoring her, and started to return towards the river on the path. As he walked he reached into his pocket, found her panties and dropped them on the ground.

"Wait," she cried, urgently and louder than she had intended, just before he would have turned a corner and out of sight.

He froze without turning, seemingly giving her time to begin the process. She was sure she had better have started disrobing before he turned. Her hands were pulling up the hem of her shirt before she realized what she was doing. She removed her shirt. He turned back to her, smiled sweetly at her, seemingly proud of her for this decision to push herself and to place her trust in him. He walked up to her, subtly taking her shirt out of her hand as he bowed his head to kiss her, gently at first then fully open mouthed with unadulterated passion as he pulled her body tight against his. Just as quickly as the kiss heated, he broke it off and sat back down on the bench, putting her shirt next to him.

Smiling, he looked at her standing there in only her bra and skirt, and said warmly: "I am proud of you. You look so beautiful. Please continue." With a deep breath, nerves steeled and her eyes never leaving his she reached behind her back and unfastened her bra and shrugged it off her shoulders. Her nerves began to fail her, though, as she held the bra against her breast, not yet capable of baring her breasts in this secluded yet unprotected place. She averted her gaze from his and looked around to make sure no one else was around. Every bird chirp and squirrel leaf rustle caused her to flinch and feel ever more exposed and unprotected. She burned with shame she was there, shame she was doing this, but perhaps mostly shame she was struggling to go through with it, for she also was burning with something else. Her gaze downward, she saw his hand reach forward, brush hers, and grip the fabric of the bra. Her cheeks blazing with embarrassment and excitement, she allowed him to take the bra from her, relieved and emboldened by his leadership.

"Now the skirt," he said gently.

Her head still bowed, she unfastened her skirt, stepped out of it and handed it to him. She was now naked except for the sandals. She didn't like looking at herself naked in the daylight. To stand naked before this man, outside, in the daylight, where, however unlikely, someone might come upon them, was almost too much for her to bear. Her knees began to buckle but she regained her balance - if not her composure - before falling. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She could not bring her gaze to meet his.

"Look at me," he said quietly. She forced her eyes from the ground upwards. His hand was rubbing his crotch idly. His manhood strained against the fabric. Her eyes froze on that sight. He cleared his throat, releasing her from the hypnotism of his crotch. She looked him in the eye.

He looked at her with an eyebrow cocked and a slightly disapproving look. She looked down and realized one of her arms was covering her breasts and the other her pussy. The hand of her left arm covering her breasts, she realized, was cupping and squeezing her right breast. Her right hand covering her pussy was pressing firmly on her clit. With a deep breath she moved her hands to her sides and looked back at him. He smiled warmly and approvingly.

He remained silent, staring at her, a pleased expression on his face, a hand clearly massaging a growing erection in his pants. She shifted her weight nervously, tension building for her. Her legs parted the slightest bit and immediately she felt cool air touch her engorged and sopping lips. Her eyes were fixed on the bulge in his pants. He gestured with his hands towards his crotch.

"Take it out, take me in your mouth."

With only the slightest hesitation, she sank to her knees between his legs and, with an awkward teenage urgency she had not experienced in 20 years, fumbled with his belt buckle, his pants hook and his fly. He stood briefly so she could slide his pants and underwear down his thighs and when she lifted her head up, taking in his scent, his cock bumped into her cheek. It was so hot, seemingly branding it's outline on her. She could not get her hands or her lips around it fast enough.

She devoured it, quickly becoming oblivious to where she was. It filled her mouth wonderfully, and felt hot and smooth against her tongue. She bobbed her head, taking more with each stroke.

"You look perfect. So beautiful. You belong right where you are," he whispered as he began to thrust to meet her bobs.

Part of her brain registered horror at the demeaning nature of the comment, yet she found herself gagging slightly as she took more of him deeper still, seemingly encouraged by his words. "Don't hurt yourself, Sweet One, you will learn to take me in your throat soon. But now it is time for you."

He gently grabbed her head with both hands and guided it from his hardness. He stood, kicking off his pants, pulling off his shirt and standing naked before her. She marveled at his beauty, her attraction to him and her carnal arousa. She gasped a bit for breath, on her knees, before him.

He offered her his hand. She stood on shaky legs. He guided her hands to the back of the bench then slid behind her. She braced herself to be entered from behind, and yearned for it. She felt his hands on her hips and shuddered involuntarily. Then, to her surprise she felt his breath on her thighs and cheeks. She shuddered again as she caught her breath. He kissed one cheek, then the other, then bent lower and kissed one thigh, then the other. Without conscious thought she pushed her ass up and back towards him, spreading her legs further, presenting herself to him.

Her inner lips, as of yet still untouched this day, were swollen and glistening with moisture. He gently blew on them. She almost came. Then it began. Gently at first, then with greater pressure and urgency he licked the length of her slit, again and again, running his tongue deeper then licking the edges then plunging deep again, trying to suck all of her nectar from her. But that was not possible, she just became wetter and wetter. He would gently suck one side into his mouth, then the other. Then he headed for her button, which was now fully exposed from its hood and dying for attention. As he sucked it into his mouth, she began to cum. With her clit in his mouth, being flicked and massaged by his tongue against his teeth, the softness of his tongue contrasting with the hardness of his teeth, her orgasm growing and seemingly spreading, he plunged two fingers deep inside her. Her orgasm exploded, her knees buckled, and she fell forward across the bench, knees ending up on the bench. He never broke contact as her orgasm raged.

After a seeming eternity, her spasms began to slow. She was spent but glowing with tingly warmth. He continued to gently kiss and lick her slit, her thighs, and her cheeks. As she regained her senses she realized how delightful his attention was. She rolled her hips a little and pushed her butt back up towards him. Her fire was lit, she wanted more. She cared not she was in a public park. Continuing to shower her with kisses, he placed a hand on either cheek and opened her wide. Her excitement impossibly rebuilt. She found herself wiggling her butt, pressing back towards him, rising again to the edge of ectstacy.

She froze when she realized his kisses, his tongue, his hot breath were nearing her rosebud. 'No, not there,' she thought. And yet, she hoped he would. He did. She felt his tongue circle her sphincter, licking and probing. She had never felt anything so decadently wonderful in her life. When one of his hands left a cheek and he plunged two fingers deep inside her pussy, she came again, clamping simultaneously down on his fingers and his tongue, that amazing, glorious tongue. She knew she would do anything for him, let him have her anytime, anywhere, in any way just as long as she could experience his tongue again.

As she began to return to reality he was gently kissing her thighs and massaging her cheeks. He stood, she could feel his hardness in the valley between her cheeks. She wiggled her butt invitingly against him. He pulled back a little, grabbed his shaft and slid the head up from her clit along her slit up past her rosebud and back again. He repeated, and again. She squirmed. "Now, I need it, please," she heard herself say. She was unprepared, though, for him to stop his travels at her rosebud and press the well lubricated head past her now well lubricated tight ring. She gasped. It hurt, but not nearly as much as she would have thought. He held her hips tightly, preventing her retreat, but she had already chosen not to. She was now his, at least at this moment, in this place.

The pain quickly subsided. He inched deeper. She felt so stretched. Then he began to pull back. Then again in, and again out. His pace quickened, deeper with each stroke. As she adjusted to the onslaught, one of her hands made its way to her clit. She came. He pounded harder. She kept coming. He tensed, buried himself to the hilt, and filled her with his seed. Her body continued to spasm in ectstacy. He held her impaled on his cock, jets of his cum filling her bowels, for a seeming eternity. Yet it ended much too quickly for her. He pulled out and she collapsed in a fetal position on the bench.

She drifted off to sleep, but was not sure for how long. The sound of children not far away brought her back to the moment. He stood on the path at the edge of the clearing, fully clothed. She felt incredibly naked all of a sudden, but was confused that her normal modesty which should have had her incredibly embarrassed by the situation was now battling a feeling of freedom, liberation even, and arousal. This brief moment of introspection was lost quickly to reality: He beckoned to her to grab her clothes. She scrambled to find them and grab them. She started to put them on, her bottom feeling strangely loose and leaking.

She heard voices then heard his voice: "Nothing to see here, boys, this path is closed." She threw on her bra and her shirt.

"Listen old man, if we want to head up this path then we will head up this path. In fact, I think you are hiding something from us," she heard a strange young voice say.

"Boys, trust me on this, you don't want to go further up this path," he said, then disappeared around the corner.

She heard muffled voices trailing away. He emerged back into view. He waved her to towards him. "Quickly," he whispered. She ran to him, took his outstretched hand in hers, and hurried with him up the path. As they hurried back towards the river path, she glanced around her, expecting to see a people. She saw nothing. They reached the river and headed back towards the bridge, still hurrying but gradually slowing from a near run to a quick walk.

He continued to hold her hand as they reached the parking area. As her adrenaline began to subside, she became confused. She felt safe and protected with her hand in his, his strength, his confidence. And yet, she knew he created this situation: He had put her in danger.

"Sweet One," he whispered to her, "everything is alright. No one was hurt. I just scared them off." He kissed her deeply, then ushered her into her car. "Goodbye, Sexy. You will hear from me soon."

As she started her car and began to pull away, she was again confused by her emotions. She felt cared for and protected by him, yet she felt fear. He was clearly dangerous, taking her into a world, into behavior, she did not recognize. However, her nipples were still hard, she was still very wet, her bottom felt very used, and she knew she would see him again.