Suffused

When I come, my nipples get rock-hard, and stand out like proud dark pencil-erasers from my pale pert breasts. Mark loves this. In fact, when he senses that I have started to come, he generally pulls out, and finishes me off with his fingers or his tongue, or a combination of the two. Then, when I have regained my breath, he lays down in my lap where he can suckle my right breast, and I can stroke his cock with my left hand.

I love looking down at Mark in this position. His long pale cock springs up from his bush of orange pubic hair, its swollen helmet rimmed in red. His body is pale too, and his belly flat. He is tall and slender. He is one of those easy-going, confident people - smart, and funny - that everybody loves. So it is especially endearing to see him curled up like a baby at my breast. It suffuses me with tenderness.

And he is so needy, so vulnerable, in this position. His whole body goes tense, like a wound-up spring, desperate for release. And I love his tongue on my nipple too, swirling around it, as he licks its flat pink areola, before pulling its swollen tip between his teeth. Having my nipples sucked always turns me on, and they are particularly sensitive after orgasm. Sometimes I am so aroused, with my hand squeezing the slippery head of Mark's swollen cock, that I slip my other hand down between my legs and bring myself to a second orgasm while tossing him off.

Hearing me climax again always excites Mark, and it's not long before thick ropes of cum are erupting from his swollen shaft. I like to lean down and lick the globs of cum off his belly, and suck his cock clean. He tastes good, too.

We had been going together for some five months - 5 months, 10 days and 4 hours, actually, but who's counting? - when Mark suggested going away on a three week vacation. I leapt at the idea. We are both journalists at the same magazine, and Mark got an assignment to write an article about a couple of restaurants that were trending in Paris. He suggested he tack some long-overdue leave onto the few days he had been given to do the assignment, and take me along with him.

I loved the idea. Paris is one of my favorite places on the planet - the others being Greenwich Village in New York, and the Mojave Desert - but that's another story.

We looked on Airbnb and managed to find an affordable apartment up on the top floor of a lovely 'fin de siècle' building in the well-to-do 16th arrondissement. We would have preferred a more lively area nearer the city center, but they were all beyond our budget. As it was, I suspect that the only reason our rent was affordable was because the apartment was so high up - and there was no elevator! That's right, we had to walk up FIVE flights of stairs to get to our little garret under the eaves. Mark reckoned that it was a couple of maid's rooms knocked into one space. At all events, it was small but comfortable, and if you craned your head out of one of the dormer windows you could even see the Eiffel tower.

The apartment was also an easy walk to the notorious 'Bois de Boulogne', which was great for us because we both like to go jogging. We soon got into the habit of running there every afternoon, just before the sun went down. The Bois is a mixture of formal park, complete with lakes and gardens, and unspoiled woodland. There's a running track that winds through some of the woodland, and we would always start on the track, and then dive off into the woods to explore.

One late afternoon, we chanced upon an old bench, set opposite an overgrown shrubbery, quite a way into the woods. It felt like it was part of a former garden that had been neglected and allowed to run wild. We sat down on the bench, happy to rest after our exertions.

It was so peaceful. You could still hear the distant thrum of the city, of traffic passing through on the roads which wind through the woods, but the noise was muted by all the trees and the undergrowth.

The clouds were drifting across the darkening sky as I laid my head on Mark's shoulder. Mark ran his hand gently through my hair. I was suffused by a feeling of belonging, of being right at the still center of this turning world. I didn't want to be anywhere else or with anybody else; I was simply supremely happy being me, with Mark.

I snuggled down into his lap, our normal positions reversed for once, and smiled up into his eyes. He smiled down at me, and ran his hand lightly over my satin-covered breast. And suddenly my profound sense of contentment was given a new edge. His casual hand brushing my nipple had set off the usual chain-reaction: both nipples started to stiffen, and I felt my clit begin to swell. I wanted Mark with a sudden new urgency.

He felt my mood shift, and moved his hand down between my legs, rubbing me through my satin running-shorts. My smile widened. He held my gaze, as his fingers explored more deeply. I parted my thighs, to let his fingers between my labia. He found my pearl-hard clit, and began to push it gently from side to side, all the while smiling down at me. I felt his cock uncurl and stiffen beneath me. I reached up so that we could kiss.

My feeling of euphoria, of being exactly where I was supposed to be, with exactly the person I was supposed to be with, only deepened, as his tongue probed my open mouth and his lips closed over mine.

We kissed for the longest time, as he finger-fucked me through my shorts. I wanted to reciprocate, to be wrapping my fingers around his throbbing cock, just like he was pulsating his fingers between my parted thighs, but I was too far gone to move, too wrapped up in the moment. Our tongues entwined as he pushed his entire hand up into my groin, moving it from side to side with increasing speed. I could feel how wet he was making me. He sucked my tongue so deep into his mouth that I could hardly breathe. I honestly feared I was going to lose consciousness as I felt my orgasm start to sweep through me. Gasping for breath I broke free from his kiss as wave after wave of pure pleasure coursed through me. I lay back, limp, light-headed, flushed, and smiled back up into his smiling eyes.

"Did you enjoy that, Miss A.?" he asked, using the nickname he often used after he had done something nice for me, like bringing me a cup of tea in bed.

"Yes!" I gurgled, and my smile widened, "And now it's your turn."

I wriggled myself up into an upright position next to him on the bench and turned to kiss him, as my hand reached down to rub his raging hard-on through his shorts. He moaned, and slipped my hand down inside the front of his shorts so that I could close my fingers around his shaft and rub precum over its head. After several minutes of my groping him like this, he broke away.

"Suck me off?" he said, his eyes pleading.

I looked around. There was no-one in sight, but it felt a bit exposed. I didn't want our French holiday to be cut short by being deported for indecent exposure in a public park ...

"Let's go into the bushes," I said, indicating the overgrown shrubbery in front of us.

So we made our way into the tangled thicket of the shrubbery, and there I got down on my knees and took his swollen hard-on into my mouth. I ran my tongue around the rim of his cock then flattened it over the slit in the head, rubbing his sensitive glans while my hand massaged his balls. I pulled as much of his fleshy white scepter as I could down my throat till I gagged, and then I used the saliva that had spurted into my mouth to lubricate my hand which I closed around his dick.

As my tongue swirled around the tip of his long hard cock, my hand began pumping it, gliding on the upstroke, squeezing on the down. Mark took my bobbing head in his hands and literally fucked my face. His precum and my saliva were making his cock slick and slippery, and I closed my hand around this greasy shaft like a welcoming firm wet cunt.

I could feel that he was close, so I opened my mouth as wide as I could, and moved my hands round to the back of his buttocks, pulling his thrusting pelvis toward me and his cock even deeper down my throat. Almost immediately, he tensed, gasped, and shot spurt after spurt of hot cream into my mouth. Holding myself steady, my knees on the ground, my hands on his buns, I swallowed every last drop.

After that, we always ended our runs at that bench, and almost always finished up in the tangled thicket of overgrown shrubbery in front of it.

One day, we were both standing in our shrubbery, completely hidden, or so we thought, and had just brought each other off simultaneously - me running my wet hand up and down the length of Mark's shaft as he pummeled my wet clit - when we heard a sudden noise. Peering through the tangled branches we were shocked to see that we were not alone. A middle-aged man was sitting on the bench, looking straight at our thicket. His fly was undone and he was pumping a huge erection. As we watched, he closed a hand over the head of his cock, and came, spurting thick wads of cum into the air to fall on the grass at his feet. He immediately cleaned himself up, zipped up his pants, and strode away.

"Stay where you are," said Mark, and walked out of the shrubbery to sit where the man had been sitting.

"Oh my God," he said. "There's a gap. Just at the level of your pussy - there's a gap in the shrubbery." Involuntarily, I moved a hand down to cover my crotch. "I can see your hand," said Mark, "you just moved your hand."

I guess we both must have a bit of an exhibitionist streak, because we went on fooling around in our overgrown shrubbery even after this incident. I love to watch other people having sex myself, and so it even heightened my pleasure to think that others could be getting off watching me and Mark. And the shrubbery did hide our faces - the gap was only at groin level, so the risk of identification was pretty low.

We never saw that first guy again, but we did have a number of other people come along and watch us. Some merely watched, and some got so excited watching that they just couldn't help playing with themselves while they watched.

And then there was the red-headed girl with big boobs in a baggy tee shirt and shorts who started playing with herself as she watched me jacking Mark off. We were in our thicket, and had been kissing, and Mark had already made me come, so I had pushed his shorts down to his ankles and was concentrating on his lovely pale shaft when he jerked his head towards the bench, to show that we were no longer alone.

At first the redhead was unaware of us, checking her phone, and staring into space. I moved round behind Mark, and must have stepped on a twig or something, because suddenly she was definitely staring at that gap in the shrubbery, where she must have been able to see Mark's massive cock rearing up and my little hand encircling it from behind.

Both Mark and I were facing the bench, and saw her stiffen in surprise. I circled my hand round the base of Mark's cock and moved it up the shaft, squeezing beads of precum out of the tip. I used my hand to smear the precum over the helmeted head of his swollen manhood. He leaned back into me as I started to pump.

The girl was transfixed. An involuntary groan escaped Mark's lips as I squeezed his slippery cock harder, and moved my hand up and down its slick length. I was in no hurry. I wanted to see what the redhead would do. I fell into a slow, steady rhythm.

The girl's lips parted, and I could see her breathing deepen. She slowly moved a hand over one of her tits, and gently squeezed a nipple. Her other hand inched down over her belly to her groin. As I pumped Mark from behind, I peered over his shoulder to see her part her legs and start to massage herself through her shorts.

Soon she was leaning back fully splayed on the bench, one hand inside her shorts, where we could see her fingers working her clit, and the other pushed up under her tee shirt to squeeze and fondle her nipples. As I moved my clenched hand relentlessly up and down the length of Mark's engorged cock, I could feel the electricity in the air. All three of us were waiting for the redhead to climax. And she was fixated on the tip of Mark's cock, waiting and watching for the first jet of cum to erupt.

And then she smiled. A wide, confident smile that recognized that she was being watched, that we were all three exhibitionists - and voyeurs. This was a threesome.

Mark came, jetting thick spurts of hot cum into the undergrowth. Some dribbled over my fingers. I moved my hand to my mouth and licked it off, just as the redhead gave out a half-muffled scream, and spasmed long and hard on the bench, her whole body convulsed by the waves of pleasure juddering through her.

She quickly re-arranged her clothing, and moved her knees demurely back together. She stayed, leaning back on the bench, making no move to leave, as her breathing gradually returned to normal.

Then she spoke. In French, of course. Neither of us understood. So she spoke again, this time in English.

"Are you coming out?" she said.

Mark and I looked at each other. He shrugged, before turning and leading the way out of the shrubbery.

"I'm Mark," he said, stretching out his arm to shake hands with the redhead. Somewhat bemused at his formality, she took his hand.

"And I am Sabine," she said.

So I introduced myself, and we got chatting. Sabine was very direct. She said - in her delightful French accent - that she could be here again tomorrow, and that she would love a repeat performance. But this time she would like Mark's cock inside her.

Mark and I had never discussed involving other people in our sex life. The subject had just never come up. In all the time we had been together, I had never had sex with anyone but Mark, and I think that Mark had never fucked anyone but me. But I was totally OK with Mark having sex with Sabine if I was there to watch. Truth be told, the idea of watching him fucking this big-breasted redhead was turning me on.

So when Mark turned an inquiring eyebrow toward me, I told Sabine that we'd both love to meet up again, and we all arranged to rendezvous at the bench the following afternoon.

That night, over a bottle of red wine in a local bistro, Mark earnestly quizzed me over my true feelings about him having sex with Sabine. I knew that he wanted to. I knew that he wanted to see those big breasts of hers and fondle them. He was a man. What man wouldn't want to fuck a good-looking girl like Sabine?

But I reassured him that I was totally OK with him doing whatever he wanted with her as long as I could watch. He knew that I loved to watch people having sex. We had watched porn together, and he knew that I was a born voyeur. I told him, honestly, that I would not want him having sex with her WITHOUT me being there to watch and take part, but that I was actually looking forward to us all getting back together.

The following day, we didn't jog, we walked to the bench. Neither of us said it, but I think we both wanted to conserve our energy for the sex. And not arrive all sweaty from jogging. Involving a third person in our fun had already changed the dynamic.

We were both disappointed when Sabine didn't show up.

We sat on the bench, hoping she was just delayed, or had got the time wrong. Eventually, of course, we started fooling around. Because we were at that stage in our relationship when we just couldn't keep our hands off each other. One thing led to another and before too long Mark had his hands up my sweatshirt and I had my hand in his shorts and we were going in for the longest kiss of the century.

I was so aroused that I simply had to have Mark inside me. NOW!! My desire was so strong that all my previous reluctance to have sex in public was forgotten. I pushed my running shorts to one side and straddled Mark, easing his thick hard cock up into my moist cunt in one fluid movement. Soon I was riding him like a cowgirl, my hands on his shoulders, my eyes fastened on his.

He ran his hands up under my sweatshirt to fondle my boobs and tweak my rock-hard nipples as I rose and fell, up and down the length of his swollen shaft. I bent my head down to fasten my lips on his as I rode him to our inevitable, inexorable, climaxes. We came at almost exactly the same moment, his hot cum jetting up into me as my own orgasm pulsed through me in waves of dizzying pleasure.

I was just easing myself off his lap, to sit beside him on the bench, when we both heard a voice from the shrubbery.

"Very nice. Now 'ow about me?"

It was Sabine! She must have got to the bench before we did, and had decided to hide in the shrubbery and watch.

I giggled. Mark looked slightly confused.

"Are you coming in 'ere, or what?" she said, in her delightful French accent.

I took Mark's hand and we walked together into the overgrown thicket in front of the bench.

I realized that Sabine must have had a grandstand view of me riding Mark's cock.

She was fully dressed, but had her hand inside her panties as we ducked our way into the shrubbery.

"Feel how wet you 'ave made me!" she said, taking her hand out of her panties and replacing it with mine. She looked coquettishly towards Mark. "Your turn to watch," she said.

"Now make me come with your fingers," she told me, as she pulled off her tee shirt, revealing a pair of gorgeous rounded boobs. Her nipples and areolae were dark, and her skin tanned. "Suck my tits," she said.

I hadn't made out with another girl since high school, but was happy to comply. I loved Sabine's refreshing directness, and readily fastened my mouth over one of her nipples, as my fingers probed the wet folds between her legs.

She pulled down her panties and moved her legs apart, standing fully naked in front of Mark. She turned her head to look at him.

"You like? " she asked.

"Oh, I like!" grinned Mark.

I transferred my mouth to Sabine's other nipple, and moved a hand up to squeeze the nipple I had been sucking. My other hand was still in Sabine's pussy. She was so wet, I slid two fingers up into her and started to rub her swollen clit with the flat of my thumb. She moaned, and threw back her head, her auburn ringlets cascading down her back. My fingers worked her nipple as my other fingers worked her crotch, relentlessly pushing her towards the point of no return.

She looked across to Mark again. "Show me your cock," she whispered. I looked over to see Mark drop his shorts to the ground, and I wasn't surprised to see that his long pale cock was already tumescent, bobbing enthusiastically skyward.

Sabine shuddered with pleasure, and stifled a shriek as an orgasm rippled through her. She gently removed my fingers from her cunt, pushed my hand away from her tits, and then turned round and bent over in front of Mark, her butt cheeks facing him on a level with his cock.

"Fuck me from behind," she whispered.

Mark spread her butt cheeks with his hands and pushed his hard cock smoothly between them, easing his way effortlessly into her warm wet cunt.

He grinned at me as he moved his hands up to Sabine's hips and began pushing and pulling her body up and down the length of his slippery pole. She was bent between us, her long breasts swinging to and fro as Mark pushed and pulled his swollen cock in and out of her.

She reached out her hands to steady herself and fastened them over my hips. Now I could feel each thrust of Mark's cock as he swung in and out.

Sabine was hunched over like an animal in heat. "Faster, 'arder," she croaked.

So Mark started fucking her like a jack-hammer, ramming his hard rod up into her trembling body like a machine, a long, lean fucking machine.

Sabine whimpered. I cupped her breasts in my hands and tweaked her nipples. They were like mine - rock hard and standing out like pencil-erasers. She shook her head from side to side, arching her back up into Mark's thrusts as he continued to pound his long thick pole into the wet flesh between her thighs.