The Last Cigarette Ch. 02

Being finger fucked in her favourite city centre cafe without any say in the matter was still front and centre too. It had never crossed her mind to object or to disobey any of his instructions.

Head spinning from the fact that she was submissively and self-creatively bottomless in a public area, taking, enjoying and encouraging a spanking, steadying herself so as she could present herself for him as openly as possible and now, apparently, leaking down her leg. Conscious of a dribble on her inner thigh, her body started to shudder with excitement.

Her massaging fingers interchanged between her clit and inside herself, aware that the warming heat being created on her outer thighs was spreading rapidly throughout her body.

Lost in the humiliating moment, she felt her second orgasm of the afternoon approaching. The build-up a familiar path of heightened body sensations with an all-consuming destination.

She knew her own body and what it took to peak, and it did not matter where she was right then. She didn't give a fuck if there was a coach load of people watching from behind her, or a strolling couple being amused by the view; all she wanted was to cum.

Legs buckling slightly with the effort of staying upright in heels, she closed her eyes and gripped one breast with her spare hand, her fingers seeking it's nipple behind the material of her bra in order to pinch and stimulate.

She could hear him whispering dirty thoughts into her ear, the fingers of his one hand sometimes probing and intruding, manipulating and pleasing. The other hand repeatedly rising into the air.

After the last smack, his hand moved quickly to hold her screwed up skirt at her back like a rein, and with her breasts straining their cups, the feel of his cock through his trousers resting in her ass crack, she exploded.

She exploded with a wail of overwhelming pleasure and an accompanying shower of squirt across the tarmac path.

She exploded with a low scream of emotion and, feeling him instinctively wrapping an arm around to hold her safely, sagged slightly and gratefully into his embrace; her legs seemingly no longer willing to support her, but in no way ready to stop.

Still in the moment, with fingers still at her pussy and bruising her breast simultaneously, she felt another rise of emotion and another reduction of tension followed by another loud moan of pleasure, safe in the knowledge that she was in his protective hands.

And then a third orgasm; her pussy slick with squirt and feeling almost raw and battered after all her rubbing; the path now a flood before her.

...and she slumped exhausted.

...

She gratefully seated herself in the park bench alongside him once having readjusted her clothing. Breasts back in their cups, pussy dried and she once again looked demure.

Breathing was returning to normal as was conversation and public decorum.

They looked at each other...