With married woman and kids getting on me about every little matter I grabbed my keys and stormed our of the house. The hold out thing I needed was a guilt trip trip about what had n't been done during the hebdomad, or who was hitting who and why. The study week had been hectic and I needed five moment of peace of mind and quiet. And it was evident I was n't going to get it at home, even after slamming down a bottle of flying dragon's Milk to quieten the nerves.

jump into my SUV I blast the miscellaneous CD of Imagine flying lizard I 'd made and commence off to destinations unknown. I did n't intend to drive. Usually I 'll just walk around the closure a couple times until cooler heads prevail. But today required me to get further away. I needed blank space. I needed fresh air. I needed a place to walk where I did n't have to interest about getting hit by a car.

There was only one property that came to mind and my vehicle found its way there without further thought process. The brew I had drained in three draught was making my head a little woozy, no food and a 11 % ABV can do that. With my spunk charge per unit elevated the stout was quickly rushing through my body. So getting to a destination quickly, and without incident, was a anteriority.

I pulled into Livingston common, the radio still blasting and found a shaded spot along the tree credit line. I could hear the kids playing at the playground across the parking lot. And there was a superfluity of people walking the trail that circumferences the prominent pool. I was watching without watching, letting the alcohol do its thing while enjoying the Saratoga chip Spring walkover that New England enjoys every year.

That was until a car pulled up beside me. I tried not to notice as the driver got out of the car. But I couldn't supporter myself. I was pissed off at the wife and some eye candy was a receive addition to the icky day. I kept my head forward, but my sunglasses shielded my gaze as I secretly checked her out.

She was of average height, 5'7 springiness or take, with prospicient illumination brunette haircloth that was tied back into a pony tail. Then I saw her eye. I'm a fall guy for eyes. They were a plentiful brown, that could suck the life out of any one who drew her gaze. The were vivacious and rundle of a confidence that I found very attractive. I had to transfer in my posterior as my manhood twitched in response to her sudden, yet welcomed, arrival.

Sporting a runner's sports bra and shorts, she knelt in front of my bumper to lace up her shoes. Loosing sight of her fellate, I didn't want her to find like I was creeping on her. And to my defense, I wasn't. I was admiring her dish. As she rose she looked up at me with those vivacious eyes and then turned to head up off to the trail. My heart tracked her bowel movement through the parking lot and then she was off trotting to the rightfulness in the direction of the"end '' of the lead. My guess was that she wanted the hilled portion of the track first to get her pump pace going before hitting the smoother leveled circumstances of the trail.

Whether inspired by hormones, or by the demand to stretch my legs ( and give my wood some place to breathing time ), I exited my silver transport and headed off in the diametrical direction. Yes, I wanted to see her again, and not just from behind. Could you blame me ? She was a sculpture of paragon. Well toned from nous to toe, and enough of a bosom that she could tease and it not appear overdone.

With her head start a saw her approach around the quarter mile mark ( it 's exactly a mile around the pond ). I wanted to stop and look up to her, but resisted the obvious. But as she passed she gave me a parting coup d'oeil and headed off. Maybe my question was playing secret plan with me, or again, maybe it was just my hormones, but I felt the looking conveyed more. ( Wishful thinking. ) Or maybe it was just the way I dressed. After all, I was likely the exclusively one for miles that daily wore a cowboy hat, boots and a warp as persona of their wardrobe. So, it could throw been a look of wonder.

I walked on with the image of her literally running through my intellect. My sex was thickening and getting longer the more and more I thought about her. How I wanted to pin her up against a tree and osculate her madly. Run my hands over her legato skin and palpate every curvature and writhing muscle as our tongues danced. I may not have known who she was, but it did n't matter. A random encounter was just what I needed.

We passed once again, somewhere around the half mile marker. The path had two line here, a in high spirits hill and a wooden bridge that stayed with the pond's shore. I elected to bar just short of this water parting where a small brook fed the pond. I 'd always felt this was the most calm patch in the stallion Park. She merely waved as she passed by and I foolishly gave her a nod and a tip of my hat. Immediately I hated myself for being such a fathead, and headed off the trail to go sit by the brook.

As it had in the past the babbling creek welcomed me back. I found a fallen Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree and sat on the moss covered trunk. I was just about to play some music on my earphone when a voice beckoned me to look up.

The sun cloaked the somebody in iniquity as it shone from up above, but there was no mistaking who it was. It was her. She must take doubled back. I was shocked. watchword failed me and I just looked at her. When she spoke again I could hear the smile in her spokesperson. Her spokesperson was sweet-smelling and tender, there was a literal banknote if business organization in her interpreter when she asked if I was ok.

I croaked back some reply that seemed to wee sense. It must not have been very convince as she stepped off the course and moved towards my position. Standing, as any chivalrous man would, do I proffer my hand to her to assist her decent. She took it and then joined me on the fallen log.

It took my brain a couple moment to take in that I was still holding her hand. We'd been talking nonchalantly the minute she came off the path, so the pulsing to let go of her hand was just never there. I paused for a moment and looked down at her hand within mine. She did as well, and we smiled at each early. It was natural.

Then suddenly she leaned in and kissed me. My heart snapped capable at start, but then closed as the osculation deepened. I kissed back and couldn't hold back after that. Pulling her to me we were now pressed together. Our brim parted and our glossa lashed out, tasting the other. Her essence was in me, and mine within her. The world disappeared and it was only us.

I felt her hand touched h my chest as she pulled back. I gave a dumb protest with one last osculation. Our heart locked and her paw was rubbing my second joint. It was inching ever closemouthed to my dick that was beginning to lengthen and throb in rhythm with my beating heart. This was the most intense moment I'd had in a couple years. My being wanted her, right then and there. And by the way she was caressing my leg she was wanting more than too.

She said something about going secret, which didn't make lots horse sense. But she got up, our hand still interlocked and led us back up to the track. It was a it awkward at first and my cock was still concentrated, and my top dog swam from this sudden, yet needed, turn of events. We started up the steep Alfred Hawthorne, where the path stock split temporarily, I followed her lead. She obviously knew where a more common soldier place was.

At the crest of the mound the woods were thicker here, but a long unused way of life that pointed us in a direction I'd never been. Her body moved with a feline grace through the giantism, u perturbed by the muckle of branches and copse that stood in our path. Wherever we were going, she was determined to get there no topic what.

Just ahead I could see the edge of the park as it over looked a decrepit old gas station ( its heart long since removed ). It wasn't a romantic eyeshot by any means, but the Tree parted enough her to still pro ide us with seclusion. She turned to me and pulled me in our mouth clashed and our hands roamed.

I tossed my hat to the ground, and wrapped my arms around d her, pulling her in rigorous once more. My hands graced her back and over her tight ass. I gave each buttock a squeezing and then ripped my hands up and under, brushing my fingers past both kettle of fish. She smiled during the candy kiss, as her own hands worked themselves down to my fork and began to tease my cock.

With a few quickly flicks of her wrist joint she had my belt undone and my zipper down. Her hands eager to enwrap around my curing putz. She purred as she quickly realized I was going commando, her eye sparkled deviously. Pulling back she dropped into a squat and stroked my backbreaking cock. She cushy hands were fond and flaccid. I could tell she was well experienced in teasing my cock, hell any cock for that matter.

Her natural language flicked over the psyche, teasing it, yet coating my sex, making her cam stroke even more enjoyable. That was until she opened her mouth and swallowed one-half my shiver member in one wink. God did that experience good. My wife would never have been able to do what this woman was doing to me now. Her drumhead was moving up and down the length of my shaft while her mitt slid back and Forth in unison. Her wrist twist at the rectify import to place wave upon undulation of euphory coursing through my dead body. I didn't k ow which I wanted more. To let her fellate me. Or to find out if her pussy was as good as her mouth.

I know I moaned and encouraged her to keep going, but I also yearned for more. Even as I held her head with one hand and fucked her face, words were coming out of my mouth that I'd only ever dreamed about, or write about. This cleaning lady was doing matter to my cock that I'd only never seen in smut. And I loved every second of it.

But enough was sufficiency, I wanted to taste her, and fuck her too. And if I allowed her to continue sucking my raging hard-on, I might cum, and end this adventure before I was truly finished. So, I yanked her headland back. As I looked down upon her I noticed that her hand was buried between her second joint, the cloth of her trunks were pushed aside and her fingers were running flat her swollen-headed clit.

I pulled her up to standing and yanked her hand away from her twat and replaced it with mine. She was dripping wet. So, I coated my finger with her juices and continued the prickteaser of her cunt and clit. My digit slipped effortlessly into her puss, her wall clasping down around my finger, nearly sucking them in deeper. She pulled her summercater bra off allowing me memory access to her breasts, which I devoured instantly. Her cherry red teat stood out and were quickly sued into my sass, my tongue lashing against the sensitive surface.

She moaned, arching her back, pressing her dresser against my face. She held my head against her breast as my lip and spit consumed her perfectly shaped melon. I hadn't relented on finger fucking her kitty-cat either. They were still thrusting up and in, curling at the shoemaker's last minute to rub against that hide rough spot. She screaming, crying out to me, and laughing. She was enjoying this just as much as me. She demand that I fuck her as my fingers assaulted her cunt.

There was a pause as I got behind her and stoop her over. I teased her hole only for a endorse before dipping inside her. We both groaned. It was like Heaven for me. I wanted cipher more than to fuck this snatch all day, if I could. ass, I'd dying trying if she'd let me. And it didn't seem to concern her I was going in without a arm. Which was just fine with me, I hated rubber, they never felt right.

Hold her hip joint I started pumping in and out, she reach out and used her hands to plunk for herself against a nearby tree. We grinded together finding a speech rhythm within bit, my putz filling her wet walls, which squeezed against each and every thrust. I fucked her with reckless wantonness. I wanted to fuck her slit. Then her ass. And back again. I wanted to fill up her with my seeded player, fucking the branch.

She was encouraging me. Faster. Harder. To save going. Oh god did it palpate good. I grabbed at the length of her ponytail and pulled back hard. She cried out, and screamed out. I was certain person would hear us, if not her alone. But it wouldn't have matter, I was going to fuck her, even if it drew a crowd. I was lost in the Adam of the moment.

All I could see was my cock rushing in and out of her wet snatch, my chunk colliding with her placid purulent mouth. My stress was on driving in arduous, and deep, and to hold out for as long as potential. I pounded her toilsome for a minute, our peel clapping with each thrust. Then I 'd slow down, being purposeful with each stroke. I could feel my clod shrinking as my sexual climax drew closer, so I had to use every trick I knew to shit it finis.

This tactic frustrated her, and she took over. With a wet pop she pulled away from my putz. Age turned on me prompt as lightning, and pounded on me, taking me to the ground. She kicked her boxers to the side and straddled me. I held my cock aloft as she eased herself down upon my calamus.

Her rim consumed my throbbing phallus as she began to bray against my pelvic arch. I held onto jet hired man at first, but soon they were caressing her body, and massaging her breasts. She was riding my hard. Each grind if her hips conveyed a desire to extend to that pinnacle moment. My fingers pinched, and pulled and teased her nipples. She enjoyed that, and let loose snow-white moan colored by a playful laugh.

But I was n't one who wanted to be dominated, I wanted to be in control. For a dyad second I played along, raising my pelvis into hers as she grinded down. It was passionless, it was arrant need and desire. That did n't break off it from being some if the safe sex I 'd had in years.

My orgasm was starting to peak, so I rolled her onto hey back, raised her stage upon my shoulders, leaned into her and pounded her nimble and arduous, like a jackhammer. Get hands racked across my back as our bodies repeatedly slammed together. I was grunting hard as my climax was seconds away from breaching, I could n't take hold back the flood gates any longer. I swore a curse as several rophy of cum explosion Forth from my pecker.

Her walls clung to my throbbing member as I continued to squeeze trench inside her, her own sexual climax hit just second later. She dug her nails into my shirt, as her legs squeezed in connectedness with her climatic. Profanity filled the air.

It felt near to cum. Not just inside her, but the top of ecstasy released a lot of the frustration that had built up earlier that day.

After calming down we both stood and got dressed. When I asked for her name, and her number, she shook her head. But suggested it could happen again if we ever crossed way of life again.



THE END