A Walk in the Park

She's wearing her new dress tonight. A short skirt. She's not used to the feel of a short skirt, so she has worn tights beneath them. Thin tights. It's Spring. Too warm for thick ones.

They have had dinner, and are strolling in the approaching dusk in the park, talking about idle things, yet important things. Holding hands. There is certainly an electricity in the air. She can barely keep her mind in the conversation. She wants him to grab her and take her, right there. Damn the consequences. A ticket for lewd behavior or what-have-you, it would be worth it, she thinks to herself.

They've reached a partially secluded part of the park. There is a large tree nearby, and she realizes he's subtly guiding her toward it. She has barely registered that when she finds herself pinned against it, the bark rough against her bare arms, his hands circling her wrists, above her head. He kisses her, passionately, fiercely. He pushes her hard against the tree, knowing she likes the feel of being crushed between him and a wall. But the tree has added new sensations. The bark is rough, and there is a slight breeze running across her heated skin. She can hear the traffic on the road, not far from where they are. His lips move from hers and bite at the sensitive skin of her throat. He has learned so much about what she likes...she moans gently. He stops, and puts his lips to her ear, murmuring her name in her ear, private words just for her ears. The endearments meant for her ears, the ones that make her melt, even with her hands still pinned over her head. In her mind, she can see the intense look in his eyes, the lust darkening them, the grin of knowing he is making her stomach tighten, and making her moist with anticipation. He lets go of her wrists, and she wraps them around him, pulling him close. One of his hands immediately clasps around her neck, pushing her head hard against the tree, cutting off her breathing just enough that she gasps. She becomes aware that he is watching her. He knows this is what she likes. She is so focused on the incredible sensations of his toying with the control of letting her breathe, then tightening again, that she barely registers his other hand, until suddenly, it is between her legs, rubbing the tights and underwear.

"Now, you see, I can't get to what I want. I don't LIKE when I can't get what I want," he murmurs, pushing his body hard against the tree with the words, the back of his hand against her moist folds. There is a pause, and she feels a new sensation. It isn't his hand. He murmurs her name, in a gentle, warning tone. "You need to hold very still."

With a sudden thrill and slight horror, she realizes that the new sensation is the feel of his pocket knife, opened, poised at the very entrance to her insides. She holds very still as the sharp blade breaks through the fabric of her tights and the underwear beneath. She gasps in horror - or lust? - as she feels the cold metal of the blade as he cuts a hole in the fabric layers. Then, the cool metal disappears as quickly as it appeared. He kisses her lips then, and after a moment, she feels his hand back at the hole he has just created.

"Much better..." he murmurs as his hand finds just the right spot, and she is struggling to moan, but every time she tries, he cuts her off with the hand that is at her throat. He is toying with her, pushing her to the edge. He toys with her, and puts just some of one finger inside her, but then taking it away. "You want it, don't you? You want me like this, don't you?"

She tried to answer, but could barely whisper a yes. His hand was still around her throat. Then he released her throat, and he slaps her face.

"Answer me," he says firmly, in a harsh voice. "Do you want me?"

"Yes, I want you," she says breathlessly. And he firmly pushes his fingers in and out of her, curling them just slightly. She moans as he pleasures her. She clutches him hard, pulling him closer to her. He kisses her as his fingers find her magic places, and she rides the waves until they crash upon the shore, and she cries out, her insides spasming against his fingers.

She knew that while her release pleased him, she could also sense his need for his own. She glanced around. Seeing no one, she gently pushed him and nodded toward the ground. Without saying a word, he knew what she wanted. He grabbed the hair on the back of her head and pushed her down, bringing her to her knees before him. She loved this position, and he knew it. Her mouth watered at the thought of taking him into her mouth and sucking until he couldn't take it, then swallowing his need for release. But they were too exposed, too public. However, there was something the could certainly attempt. She grabbed his hands and urged him onto the ground, onto his back. She straddled his thighs and made quick work of the button and zipper of his jeans, and freed him. A brief second of stroking, her mouth watering again at the thought of licking there, and sucking. Later, assured herself. Another time.

She arranged her skirt and moved herself forward, easing him into her. He took a sharp intake of breath as their bodies met. It wasn't the best connection they had had, but it was there, and she leaned forward, staring at him as she began to move her hips, squeezing her pelvic muscles around him. He returned her stare, the intensity of his gaze melting her insides even more. He reached and grabbed a fistful of her hair on either side of her head and pulled her face to his and kissed hard, meeting her hips with his own. The world around them disappeared as they moved together. A passerby stopped for a moment, but quickly moved on. Her skirt hid any sign of the actual act.

The feeling built in them both. He had learned so much during their early experiences that he could read her face, her body, the subtle signs that she was about to finish. He used this knowledge to time his release to sync with hers, clutching her to him and murmuring their special name in her ear, as she trembled in his arms.

"That was fun!" he said jovially, and grinned at her.