Applehill

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Fulfilling a bucket during Applehill Festival.
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Sacramento

Between marriages was an adventurous time and busy years for this girl. It is the second period in my life for sexual experimentation and many lovers. During this time I maintained one serious relationship, conducted an intense clandestine affair, and orchestrated many casual encounters. Additionally, there was one fellow who we now call a friend with benefits. In the midst of all these there were a couple of obligatory nights with the ex-husband. But most exciting was a one-night-stand with my first female lover when I engaged in my first threesome. Included in this harried schedule was my day job as a personal assistant to the office managing partner, and the firm's expert witness. Rarely did I have dinner at home.

I think during this interval of my life I finally succumb to fact that I am a wanton, sex obsessed, pleasure seeking, hedonistic woman and that I don't think that is bad.

This recollection is about one of those casual encounters whose name is Randy. In the other encounter, the serious relationship actually caught us nearly in the act. It turns out OK, but I digress.

Randy is a lawyer with a stocky build and a new Corvette. We had met at my work while he was consulting on some real estate contracts. We lunched at a place called Plum's and I thought that was it until we met up at a company party. The party had us dancing and drinking much of the night. It was lots of fun and I flirted something terrible with all the consultants. Later, away from my colleagues, and like teenagers, Randy and I made out in his car. There, in the dark, he has a field day with my boobs. It is exciting and he made my body feel wonderful. Again though, I thought that that was the extent of it. I did not invite him into my apartment that night. He is a terrific guy but at this point I am not ready to add another man to my stable.

In a couple of weeks however, I can't resist seeing him again and exploring the delights he might possess. It is a Friday which I normally reserve for Tom (the serious relationship) but he is away working out of town. Randy and I go to see the movie "Missing" at a downtown theater. Afterwards we stroll through Old Town Sacramento visiting Evangeline's and Fat City where we pick up some food to go.

We return to my apartment at Governor's Square where I pick up a blanket and put on a jacket. It is a late dinner, picnic style, at the park across from the Crocker Art Gallery.

We spread out under a tree in the center of the park where the grass was dry. We light our repast with a cigarette lighter. After some fine Chinese take-out and beer we recline in the darkness. We do not see a soul around. The night is clear, moonless and cold.

We warm up by cuddling and kissing. I run my cold hands under his pants to warm them on his butt. He doesn't really appreciate it but tolerates it, such a gentleman. Randy follows suit on my bottom. We continue the kissing for a long time, which of course involves tongues. Occasionally, we come up for air and talk at close range.

This intertwining is fun. I don't think about anything but the pressing of lips and entangling of tongues. It gets me to feeling sort of content. I would prefer to just stay this course but I know things will move on. My pussy is moistening and Randy, I can easily feel, is hard.

With his hands now warm he pulls one and runs it up underneath my shirt to my breasts. Randy jokes that they must look wonderful because they feel phenomenal. I nearly respond likewise as I pulled a hand out to clutch his cock from outside his slacks but I am taken aback and can't speak for a moment. His cock wasn't all that long but damn it was wide! Is he packing a sausage in his pants?! I hear that some fellows go to the disco with one strapped to their leg to impress the girls. This one, however is quite real.

I seem to have an obsession with the penis. I don't consider it problem, obviously. I am just struck by the amount of variations in size and appearance that nature has created. The same can be said of course about female parts, breasts especially. Even amongst women of the same race there is so much diversification in size, shape and, as I've learned by some investigation, sensitivity. But why is there such variation in cocks? I've seen, felt, sucked, fucked, and enjoyed all sorts. From straight, crooked, relatively short and thin to the long and stout, circumcised and not, I've taken pleasure in them all at one time or another. Now apparently, I may get a crack at short and stout. When it comes to lovemaking, life is grand.

Although I am enjoying this fling in the park I want to be cautious. I am not ready to go all-the-way at this point. I'm not on the pill, I'm sure he has no condom and I purposely didn't bring one. I need to finesse this rendezvous so as not frustrate the poor boy. So we continue with the heavy petting on our blanket. He pulls his other hand from my bottom and rolls me to my back. As I had done with his member he now does to me. A hand cups my vulva outside the thin fabric of my trousers. He begins to rub.

I unbutton my blouse so he'll have unfettered access to my boobies. I also unbutton his shirt.

Randy is hitting all the right buttons but my head doesn't seem to be in the right frame. So, I relax and begin fantasizing.

It is a fantasy that I often employ when I am on my own. A fantasy built on a real foundation.

I was in Tahiti with my ex. My then husband was not a very exciting fellow despite being in one of the most sensuous venues on the planet. We were sunning on the beach. All the Europeans and locals were typically topless but not us. He would not allow it. Near our plot of sand was a photographer - a Lucien Gauthier want-to-be - shooting a local girl in native pareo.

She is gorgeous. She is very dark brown, top to bottom with long black hair. It fans out from her hibiscus crown and completely covers her back. It is not jet black, more like the color of a cast iron skillet and the texture is a mess of waves, kinks and curls, much like my own hair, only a lot fuller and longer. She has a smooth, symmetrical and tiny waist, perfect breasts and very full lips like two down feather pillows stacked on a bed. She wore no makeup.

Disembarking from reality and entering my erotic make-believe, I bravely approach the photographer, a Frenchman, and ask if I can help. Magically the people and my husband dissolve away and the ocean becomes a lagoon. The shooter asks me to spritz the model with water. I wet my hands in the lagoon and approach her. I am smitten by her coal black almond eyes. She asks me to remove my top. I remove everything and sit behind her. I place my wet hands on her sturdy breasts. The Frenchman walks around us triggering the shutter constantly.

The vahine undoes her pareo and lays it flat on the sand. She has an abundant bush about the same quality as the hair on her head. She turns around and presses me onto my back. As she crawls over me her swaying breasts appear the shape of American footballs cut in half and topped (or bottomed) by chocolate conical nipples. Her hair covers us like a tent. She sucks on my nipples and I feel hers. The Frenchman now naked kneels next to my head. The native girl and I share the Frenchman's cock between our lips.

My awareness returns to Randy as he kisses, sucks, and nibbles on my nipples. This is not his first rodeo. He is skilled. My pelvis begins to have fits. I lean over and bury my face into his hairy chest. If I am going to cum I am going to do so quietly. I slip my hand inside his pants and again fondled his portly cock.

The Frenchman stands. The vahine and I roll over so I'm on top. I suck on her breasts now. The Frenchman enters me from behind. I moan and let go her nipples. The native girl again sucks on my breasts and I burst. I scream into Randy's chest. It is an excellent muffler. The orgasm rings through my jerking twat. The pleasure was only momentarily at max density. The ecstasy quickly loses energy. As the rarefaction ascends I pull my face from his chest, rest it on the crook of his neck and take a deep breath. Simultaneously I pull my hand from his crotch, wrap my arms around him and steady my loins.

Randy uncouples from me and lays me down again. He looks around but if anyone is near we cannot see them. Not even hobos are in the park.

Randy starts to unbuckle his pants.

"What do you have in mind?" I ask.

"I want to make love," he replies.

I'm not going to fuck in the park, my love. Besides, do you have a rubber?"

"I don't like condoms."

"Then we don't screw. It may be a bit late to tell you but them's the rules."

"Well, there are other things than screwing."

"Yes, correct. Look, this is fun and you're excellent at it but let's take it slow. This was a perfect ending to a lovely evening. It is time to leave here. Let's save something for the future."

Randy is going to be vexed but he can take it. We gather all that we brought and like a gentleman he escorts me home and leaves me to my sweet dreams.

Randy and I have one or two lunches over the next few months and we even go see "Porky's" in May, but my other associations are taking up all of my off-work time. In fact Randy takes me to Tequila Willy's one night in August where I expect to see Jack. It seems unlikely Randy and I would follow up on that picnic. Then came October.

Every year in the fall, Apple Hill farmers (east of Placerville California) throw a weeks-long harvest festival. During the festival they sell apples and all the apple creations: apple cider, apple honey, apple beer, etc. But the singular stand out is of course the luscious apple pies, the best in the world. So Randy invites me to trek up highway 50 with him for a day of crafts, family events, and apple pie.

I actually cleared this trip beforehand with Tom. Randy picks me up early on Sunday in his '82 white Corvette with t-top. It is beautiful. It has bucket seats that have very high sides. You really feel encased. The interior is a silver & beige leather scheme. Randy removes the t-tops and locks them under the hatchback.

The weather is also gorgeous. It is bright and sunny. As we move into the afternoon it may even get up into the 80's. On our way out to the I-5 on-ramp we pass the Crocker Gallery Park that we had initiated last March. We head south in view of the Tower Bridge and immediately board the on-ramp to eastbound 50.

As we pass Folsom and climb up the foothills to El Dorado the traffic thins. Quite spontaneously (i.e. with no thought process) I reach over the center console and fondle Randy's cock that I remember enjoying months before. The familiar feel of the wide girth is manifest as it expands its length. Randy has a big smile as the wind tosses his light brown hair. So I reach over with both hands and undo his denim button fly trousers. I finally see what I've only felt. I play gently so as not to distract the driver too much, but notice that in short order we're doing about 90 mph.

"Lighten up on the gas a bit, sweetie. It would be kind of embarrassing for you to get busted in this condition," I caution.

He turns on the cruise control at about 65 miles per hour. Of course at this time the speed limit is officially 55 mph but few complied and few were ticketed.

I caress him until we pass Cameron Park. I unbuckle my belt get on my knees and arch over the console to give his belly a little kiss and tongue caress. I don't suck his cock I just let my hair fall around it and tickle. I give his cock a goodbye squeeze as I prepare for landing in Apple Hill.

"Ah, you can do better than that!" he shouts over the noise of the wind.

"Yes, I can, but not now. Heavens, Randy, you have to learn to be patient and bide your time."

The bucket seats and his rotund cock don't make it easy re-buttoning the button fly but we manage to be back together by Placerville.

We tour several of the many apple farms and orchards. Some offer just apples, cider and pies. Others have full-blown fairs going on. We stock up on all the goodies (Three pies to-go from three different farms!) and a few trinkets. Before we know it, it is almost 5 pm. There is still plenty of sunshine left as we head back to the car (daylight saving time ends in a couple weeks) although the shadows from the trees are getting very long.

As we're packing the car a thought occurs to me. Then it overtakes me. This car would be perfect for fulfilling one of my desires. I want to fuck the driver while he's driving. I don't tell Randy right then. I want to spring it on him. As we leave I direct him to the back roads.

We drive deep into the apple orchards and farms north of Apple Hill and eventually get onto Hassler Rd. It is a very narrow two lane road, shrouded in pine trees and oaks. At first there is no place to pull over to achieve what I have in mind. Randy races up the road showing off the Corvette's performance. There is no other traffic. Finally I see a spot ahead and tell him to pull over. The dusty little cutout just barely contains the car. We're off the road only by inches.

"What are you up to?" He asks.

"Unzip, I mean unbutton! Your patience is being rewarded."

Randy undoes his jeans and pulls them slightly down. His cock is out and already at full length. I pull up the condom and...

"Ah, no, no. I really don't like those."

"Tough luck. My pussy, my rules. Certainly you've heard that before."

"We're just going to do it right here?!"

"Not exactly."

I break the package and pull the slimy rubber and, as you'd expect, have a bit of a tough time jacketing his penis. However, with a bit of caressing and persistence it is done.

"Take off your shirt," I order.

As he does, I remove my shorts. I'm riding commando. I unbutton my summer blouse all the way but keep it on. As with the panties I have no bra on. After all I am not a large breasted woman. Really no notice was given before this moment. Bra-less is common practice during these times.

I pull myself up by the roof beam. I don't know how this is going to work but I angle my body across the console and bring my knee to the cushioned edge between Randy and door. My head is above the t-top of the car. My inner leg I straighten and extend along the console to the back of the car. I lower my bottom onto Randy's lap and face him. This is the first time he's actually seen me naked in the light.

"God, you're beautiful. Let me feel you."

A hand goes on my breast and he pulls me close to suckle. I hold his ears and press my cheek into his upper forehead.

"Times a wastin' sweetheart."

He sits back and slides his pelvis down the seat a ways. I lift up out of his lap reach behind me to direct his cock but hit the steering wheel. Damn! I rise a bit more and can see over the roof down the empty road. There is a mailbox across the road from us, so there is bound to be some activity here soon. I finally get ahold of his penis and blindly aim for my vagina. In he goes with a little effort and some discomfort but finally a great deal of pleasure. I ease him in to his full length.

"Drive!"

"You kidding?"

"No! Drive."

I lean into Randy so he can see over my shoulder. I press onto his hairy chest and wrap my arms around the seat. He pulls the car out of the cutout and guns the accelerator. Wow! That was cool. A real G-force presses on my alleged G-spot!

As we breeze on down the road I pivot and grind my pelvis and really sandwich Randy between me and the seat. He drives expertly whilst just flexing his bottom.

"Oh, oh. Car coming."

"Turn on your headlights and speed it up."

He does as he's told and I see the car whiz by. If they saw anything I hope it thrilled them. I never stop cranking. It is a good feeling. He, not being of great length but of major width, has hit the spot. My fingernails are digging into the leather-backed seat. I want to cum but the moving distractions are...distracting.

Randy is apparently not distracted. He climaxes with a rebel yell and a singular thrust.

I keep on digging. My bare butt makes contact with the stirring wheel but Randy still holds the narrow road and curves.

I close my eyes and relax my mind. I start thinking of Bonnie's breasts. She was the beautiful white girl that was part of my first threesome back on January 1. I imagine them swaying as she fingers me. I remember the delightful feeling of her nipple in my mouth and my fingers rubbing her clit. I remember she told me not to cum yet, but there was no holding back. We came nearly together to the great delight of Greg, our third in the game.

That did it. I have my first orgasm screwing while flying down the road and within only minutes of our departure. It ain't the mile high club but it is one item I can cross off my bucket list. I hold on tight to Randy and seat as my pussy blossoms into full ecstasy. I can no longer maintain any rhythm so my pelvis just jerks occasionally. Randy puts a cold hand on my bottom and presses down, or in. I really can't tell what is stimulating me, his wide member or the rubbing on his body, probably both. I go limp for a moment and just let it all drain out.

I could have slept right then and there but that would be rather impractical. So, I rise up through the t-top into the darkening of the approaching dusk. I quickly lean over so as to not block Randy's view. I pivot on the console and bring my leg over. I can feel the breeze chill my glistening pussy as my tail is up and my legs are spread. Randy alternates steering grips to let me through. I use the roof beam to pull, turn and drop into my seat. Naked except for my unbuttoned blouse I retrieve my shorts and put them between the seat and my bum.

I am really ready for nothing but just sitting there but Randy still has a condom on and probably wants to get dressed. So I leaned over gave him a peck on the cheek and delicately slid off the condom caring not to spill on his car. I disposed of it in an on-board trash bag. We ride for another mile or two with me naked and he with his shirt off and pants down. It is quite the scene.

There is nothing requiring we get decent and I have some lingering horniness left over from my visions of Bonnie. So, figuring I knew Randy well enough now, I start to play with myself. I can feel Randy watching. He slows to extend the road and I lean the seat back. The smells of pine swirl through the inside of the car. I intentionally angle my upper arm to slap my breast and aggressively toss it from side to side as I play. Randy slows a bit more so he can allow more time to take his eyes off the road.

I again conjure up the image of Bonnie that night of January 1st, giving Greg a blow job in his little truck on our way home from the Brass Rail. That was the start of our me'nage a' trois. Again it is her swinging tits that help bring me to climax. As it happens I curve my whole body into a back bridge. My shoulders against the seat, feet on the floor, and now my furry little pussy is almost above the level of dashboard as I vigorously rub. This stretches the mound tight and intensifies the sensation. I scream mightily. I hear a car going by on the opposite side but continue my machinations hoping I don't cause a crash.

Randy speeds back up and I drop into the seat. As this second coming bleeds away I bring the seat back up and pull my knees up to me and wrap my arm around my legs. I put my chin on my knees, open my eyes and stare straight ahead. Once again I can feel the cold on my wet pussy as the slippery solution evaporates.

"Whoa. Girl you are amazing. Is every day trip with you like this?"

"Ha ha, no I don't think so. I like to try new things now and again. Some exciting, some not. You got me on a good day. I'm glad it is you here with me. You will be discreet? If you tell anyone leave me out of it!"

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