Farmhouse

He pretended to look around. "Do you see a condom anywhere?"

"I really don't care," I said, and I meant it.

He seemed unsure, but the way I stroked him with my hand got him too worked up to care, either.

"Okay, if you're fine with it then I am, too."

And with that, I straddled him. Holding my weight on my knees, I toyed with his dick a little, rubbing it ever so slightly with my dripping pussy. I rocked forward and back, sometimes touching a little too close and almost catching his dick in my vagina. The third time this happened, he grumbled a little, so I reached below me to insert it inside. I sat down slowly, taking each inch of his mass in one by one. When I reached the base of his cock, we sat there for a moment, feeling him inside of me.

Then I began to rise up and fall down onto his dick, holding his chest for balance and support. His back was leaning against the window, with a whole dark forest watching us from outside. My legs grew weary of this motion at a certain point, so I rested at the base of his shaft and rocked back and forth on him. It was more pleasurable for me, and he didn't have any complaints. We moaned in unison. He stuck his thumb in my mouth and I sucked on it as if it were his penis, which made him moan even louder.

He moved his hands down to my hips to guide my movements, insinuating he was close.

"I want you to cum inside of me," I instructed. He looked at me wide-eyed.

The whole house creaked with those final thrusts, and moaned with us when he came.

We walked back to the tents pretending like nothing had happened. After all, it was prohibited to go near that house on a sinkhole - our story was that we took a midnight stroll through the woods. Under the starry sky, both of us shook off the intimacy we shared that night, too. We would not exchange numbers or last names, as it would take away the magic of the moment. In my hand I clutched my only souvenir to remind me that night had been real: a brown abandoned book.