Sultry Sunset

I had waited for him to walk over today. I had this Tuesday in August as a day for myself. Working at a restaurant means that I don't have any weekends for myself, much less my boyfriend, but I only work six days a week every other week and today was my day off. I decided to use the day to take care of myself and prepare for night.

I first showered and shaved myself. I have to admit that I didn't want to put clothes on in the heat and humidity of that honey-golden August. I began rubbing the moisturizer up my feet and legs. I didn't rub myself enough to come, just enough to enjoy the feeling and to keep me on edge for later that afternoon. I was waiting.

I moved my hands upward, caressing my slightly curved tummy, small breasts, long neck, and toned arms. I then stretched and lifted my arms above my head, doing lovely things to my figure in the mirror. I preened in the sunlight that came streaming through my window, the sunlight that turned my skin a soft gold and my eyes a brighter amber, and let my hair flame up in dark, coppery highlights. I looked foxy. I almost hummed the Hendrix song -- it was the right kind of day for it.

I didn't spend a lot of time that day on getting dressed. I'd planned to meet up with my boyfriend after lunch. Any makeup I had on would run in the humid heat and I didn't want to wear clothing. So I compromised. I wore my short shorts that should be illegal, a white tank top and sneakers. It was just too hot to wear a bra. I looked good and felt almost naked.

We walked through the trees by the river, over the path, through the dense green undergrowth in the heat of the day. We laughed and teased and I giggled when he pressed me against a maple tree for a long moment. I felt his hands pinning my wrists into the bark and his hard cock pressing against me, and his hot breath in my ear as he told me all the things he planned to do to me, and all the things he wanted me to do to him.

He and I knew then how it would end, but we spun it out through that lovely, lazy, honeyed afternoon. I knew as I swayed in front of him, dropping back to rub my hips and ass against his erection, then running forward, laughing, daring him to catch me with a quick glance over my shoulder into his twinkling gray eyes. There was too much heat between us to talk easily that afternoon.

In the heat and humidity and bright sunlight of the noon the woods had been silent except for us. I had been too excited then to think clearly. But now the sun was setting in a glory of pink and gold, and a silvery grey twilight was creeping through the trees. We walked more quietly now, hushed by the frogs and crickets and once or twice the birdcalls we could hear around us. We were still touching.

He had called me last night and we had talked until I'd almost fallen asleep on the phone. Now that we could see each other face to face we only spoke about little things. The words weren't important. It was enough that he was in front of me. I could reach out and touch him and feel his skin against my own. It was enough for me that I could see his face and hands move as he spoke. I enjoyed the way his eyes lit up when I wriggled against him and his sudden sharp intake of breath as I suddenly pressed myself against him.

Before, he'd pinned me against a tree, between himself and the rough bark. He'd ground his hips and the steely shaft that lay between into me and I'd clutched at his back and raked it with my nails when I felt his hot mouth on my neck and smelled spicy-clean-male. I'd clung to him then. I whimpered. I pleaded. If he hadn't then pulled away, teasing me, I would have begged. I had almost begged for him to touch me, pull me into him, let me sink onto my knees in front of him and lick and suck him into the soft sounds and hot breaths that say as much or more to me than an hour of I-love-yous. Now he led me to a fallen log a bit off the trail, screened by branches and the darkening mist. He spread out a blanket. I remember his eyes. I remember them hot on mine as he unbuttoned his shirt.

I may have licked my lips. He's a well-formed man and I love to look at his broad shoulders and down his toned chest, the length and breadth of him. I took my time slipping my own clothing off. I stood naked in the woods a moment, letting him see me, letting the twilight mist clothe me, posing so he could appreciate it. It's not that I'm such a beauty. It's that I know he thinks I'm beautiful.

He reached for me. His hands were almost rough and urgent. It had been almost a month since we'd last been together, last been able to make love. All the teasing from this afternoon had just made me hotter for him. I was as hungry as he and I had missed him. I'd missed his warmth, the feel of his rough hands and hot mouth on me. He works with his hands and has the muscles and calluses to show for it. He pulled me to sit on his lap, my legs swinging over the side of his thigh, breasts turned to squash against his chest. I could smell him then, not so clean now, a little bit sweaty and a little bit like cloves.

He first spent his time running his large hands down my sides to my hips, and held me still. I crooked an eyebrow at him and lifted up my face. He kissed me. I slipped my arms up around my neck. I felt my bones slowly liquefy. He held me with his right hand under my head and his left holding me to him. At another time I might have tried to slow down the kiss, let it build from a soft glow to a raging inferno but I already felt white-hot.

I bit his shoulder rather than cry out his name as I heard the soft footsteps of someone else along the path. I turned my head and watched the Golden Retriever and its owner move by. He froze. My legs lay draped sideways over his thighs as we waited breathlessly for the intruder to move on. I tried not to move but I couldn't stop my hips from gently trembling and rubbing over his erection.

Then he moved his lips from my mouth down to just under my ear and I dug my fingers in as well. The pedestrian walked on and my lover moved his hot mouth down my neck to my small, high, breasts, leaving little darts of fire where his lips and tongue licked and nipped.

He paused with his mouth almost on my nipple and drawled in a deep, husky, voice, "Should I stop?" I swung my leg over his so that the lips of my pussy rested against his throbbing cock's head.

"Should I?" I asked, and almost laughed at the look on his face.

He surprised me when he said, "Yes," but then I understood.

I smiled just a bit too sweetly, and drawled, "That'll cost you, honey."

He almost laughed, but reached for my hips and tried to pull them up and over to his mouth. I shook my head a moment, and then twisted so that he could get to my pussy, but I could also get to his cock. He leaned back so he lay flat on the log. I licked my lips and leaned down so he could feel my hot breath on his cock. I could smell his musky, and now sweaty scent. His head was trapped between my thighs. Hands holding my hips to his head, clutching my lips to his as he delicately tasted me.

I almost bucked him off with the sensation and tried to concentrate on his tool. I licked my lips and started trailing them lightly over the top of his shaft, propping myself up on my left hand as I gently cupped his balls in my right. He started licking me in earnest now, hoping I'd get the hint and start on his favorite part. Instead I began as though he were an ice-cream cone, licking soft, then hard, then around the top, swirling my tongue. I could feel myself getting even wetter.

When he began to lightly flick his tongue over my clit, I gasped. If I'd looked behind me, I might have seen my juices running out of my pussy and onto his face. When he began to tongue my clit I could feel my hips begin to quiver. I began to suck on the head of his manhood, running my tongue around and over it. I tasted his hot, salty pre-cum. It was when he drove his tongue into me that I pulled him all the way into my mouth and the back of my throat to keep from screaming his name. He felt good.

I heard his chuckle as a low vibration against my clit and I froze for a bit, afraid that if I moved he'd stop. But then he swirled his long, strong tongue around inside me and oh-god-I-had-to-move. I had to buck my hips and arch my back and I fucked him hard with my whole body as well as my mouth as I came. I plunged my mouth up and down on his cock in time with my writhing hips. I stifled my whimpering moans with his cock down my throat. He didn't come. He was waiting for more of me and it always takes him longer to come than it does me. I could feel him trying not to, desperately keeping his hips still with his manhood in my hot mouth.

When he pushed me off of his mouth long enough to say, "stop," I could have almost killed him for removing his tongue. I pulled my mouth off his cock and transferred it to his tensed left thigh. I bit him, lightly. I could taste his sweat and hear his quickened breathing. But when he pulled my lower lips back down to meet his I bit his thigh. I almost drew blood as I came, harder for having been interrupted.

When I stopped, panting a bit, I asked him, "So, would you like to come now?"

"What do you think?" he asked.

I could see his prick next to my head, now an almost angry red and weeping pre-cum. His thighs were almost slick with sweat now and I was soaking wet for a completely different reason. I could smell his rich musk and my pussy. While I'd come once, I was nowhere near done yet. I grinned slowly, and lifted myself up. I rubbed myself against him as I twisted myself back around so my pussy just rested against his cock. I gently twitched my hips and leaned forward to nibble on his right earlobe.

He groaned and shoved his hips up and manhood into me, grabbing my ass with both hands. I wasn't sure what noises I made as I adjusted to the almost strange, almost too-full feeling of him inside me. But as I felt the delicious friction from his rod, I began squirming. I rode him long and hard, my nails digging into his neck and shoulder, feeling his hands shove my hips and pussy down to take even more of his hard shaft. He sat up to hold me closer.

I saw his contorted face. I saw his half-closed eyes. I smelled our sweat. I heard him panting. I heard myself gasping. The only thing in my head anything like a thought at that moment was that I hoped there weren't any other pedestrians on that path. I could feel my orgasm starting to break, the waves of pleasure washing over and through me. I clutched him to me, my arms around his neck and legs locked over his hips, as I came I don't know how many times. I could taste myself on his lips as I kissed him hard to keep from screaming as I dissolved moments before he came inside me.

I felt boneless and happily debauched. I gave a shaky laugh and reached down with my right hand to turn his face towards me. I kissed him lightly and asked him in a drowsy, "The mosquitoes are starting to get to me. My house or yours?"