I am covered in bruises, well fucked, and almost done my Wednesday but still recovering from Sunday.
Almost got caught fucking last night in the park across the street by security.
I feel like I’m in a fog of amazing right now.
Patrick: Hey sexy Im thinking about youu
Me: Fuck. When it rains it pours. I’m a lucky girl.
Patrick: Sarcastic? Sorry I hope you don’t think I’m rude
Me: Naw, I just have two dates this weekend and you’re thinking about me. I think my dry spell might be over.
Patrick: If by any chance you get it in with both I would love to see if I can smooth yah last. The thought of it makes me go crazy. Have you ever had a 3 dick weekend?
For the record, I’ve only gotten it in with one so far.
I knew where we were as soon as I heard the gravel crunch beneath the tires. Even though my face had been in his lap while he drove, it felt like I had the lefts and rights down by heart.
Dozens of trips before with his lap full of my face and my mouth full of his cock, he had brought me here. It was quiet here and isolated; we could be alone.
And because I knew where we were the blind fold was for atmosphere only. I stepped down out of the truck and felt him reach into my pocket for a lighter. A click and a hiss lit the joint between his lips. He took a long drag then blew into my mouth. He tucked my hand in his back pocket and led me slowly along the narrow path, stopping here and there to let me inhale his clouds of breath.
It was cooling off, the sun had gone down and the summer soaked ground was releasing its heat. Once we stepped inside the treeline the air got damp.
Finally the violent grinding of gravel turned into the hollow knocks of the wooden boardwalk, fresh lake air washed over my face and I knew we were steps away.
“Come here,” he told me, his body resting heavy on the bench. I stepped toward him, not quickly enough, he grabbed the pockets of my jeans and pulled me in. With my belly button centimeters from his nose he unbuttoned and unzipped my fly.
I did and he slowly peeled the denim, now damp and sticking in the night air, down from my hips. I could feel the bumps growing like fire over my skin.
“What have you done?” It was a question he’d asked before. I was meant to be bad but it didn’t come naturally so I never knew what to say.
“Nothing.” It’s all I could think of.
“Well, that’s the worst thing I can think of.” Just his tone was making me tingle. I just wanted it but the waiting was the most painful part.
“Kneel,” he said, pulling me down by the wrist until I was laid over his lap, ass in the air, aching for the ache about to come.
The first strike cracked across the lake. Everything went quiet and the flesh on my ass cheeks burned. He made me wait for the second, teasing circles with his fingertips between my legs, millimeters from my lips. I accidentally let out a whimper.
He pulled me up near his mouth by a fistful of hair, “Shh,” he commanded into my ear and smacked me again. My body, perched on his legs, tensed up and I bit my lip to stay quiet.
He let go of my hair and let me fall forward, spanking me again and again, harder each time. It was starting to hurt and I couldn’t keep still, so he gave me a break, sliding a finger up and down my slit. I was so hot and wet now, and my ass was red and raw, I could the feel the steam coming off me.
He pulled out his pocket knife and cut off my wet panties then stuffed them in my mouth…
There is a bench somewhere, but I have no idea where.
It was always dark. I was always driven there. I was always high.
Somewhere, off the highway in the middle of nowhere there’s a gravel parking lot. After you hop the gate you crunch along the gravel path that slopes off into dense marshy woods on either side. Twenty minutes later you might happen along the boardwalk, a few minutes after that the trees open up to the lake and a few minutes more then there’s the bench.
And that’s a bench that could tell stories.
The next night was his turn.
He came up behind me and ran his fingers through my hair, looping his belt around my neck, and led me into the walk in. He didn’t seem to care if anyone could see, luckily the warehouse was empty around us.
Once inside, he slid the heavy door closed behind us and walked us over to the corner. With his belt already off, I reached down between his pants and boxers. He let me touch him for a bit before he pulled me down and told me to undo his pants with my teeth. I did the best I could, lipstick everywhere. He helped.
His cock was like a spring releasing. It was the first time I’d tasted his dick so I lapped it up. He tugged on the belt now and then forcing me to come up for air. Maybe he was giving me a break, or himself.
Then he pushed in hard and tightened the belt. He must have felt it constrict around himself in my throat because he held me there and came. He let out this sigh that sounded like relief and tried to stroke my hair back into place.
With belt still in hand, he pulled me up and bent me over, pulled hard and fucked me til he went soft.
Maybe I should stop wearing lipstick to work.
Related: for Lebeau Pt1
for Lebeau Pt3
Lebeau had riled me up, so. No one had said things like that to me in years and I was about ready to jump out of my skin but it didn’t make him available. I had to find another outlet.
I went into work that night with a plan in mind. I knew my work crush’s shift started halfway through mine and if I could hold out long enough then I would end the pointless flirting by putting a point right through it. I waited for him in one of the walk ins, where the cameras couldn’t quite see.
And I jumped him.
The air was cold so we both had a chill. The bumps on his skin smoothed out with my touch but mine grew with his.
Tongue down his throat and hand down his pants, he was into it. He kissed me hard, messing up my lipstick, I tried my best not to care. He lifted up my top to squeeze and kiss my tits, nearly pulling them out of my bra. It felt like he’d been thinking about this as much as I had. And he the right idea.
Then he pulled out my hair clip, throwing it across the fridge somewhere, I still haven’t found it. He pulled my head back with a handful of hair to suck on my neck. The other hand was undoing my fly and before I knew it he was wrist deep in my panties. I had been throbbing for hours and as soon as his finger grazed my clit I shuddered.
He bit down on my neck and flicked my clit with his fingers making me shake, trying to stay quiet. He hushed me and rubbed harder, faster, knowing I couldn’t take it. Then, at just the right moment, he covered my mouth and leaned hard against me to muffle my moans and keep me still.
“Your lipstick,” he said, “I’m sorry.”
I nodded and adjusted my clothes. I took my sleeve and wiped his face where the red from my lips had transferred.
Then I worked the rest of my shift in bliss. Thinking not about the man who had just made me cum but about Lebeau.
Related: for Lebeau Pt 3
So maybe he came over and between shots he taught me some holds on my living room floor. We had a few rounds of strip wrestling but he let me with a few times. After all, he wanted me on top of him as much as I did.
He played it super serious at first: more interested in teaching me than fucking me, trying to hide his bulge. I felt it though and I was waiting for him to just take me over. I started throwing kisses in the mix to get him to lighten up but it just annoyed him until his hand brushed between my legs and he felt the heat.
He stopped letting me win.
Finally, when he had me down to just my panties he flipped me onto my back and straddled me. The panties he ripped off, which made me want him inside of me even more. He put one hand gently around my throat and with the other he slid a finger up and down my swollen, soaking slit.
My clit was throbbing but he teased me and didn’t touch it right away. He wanted me to beg to cum but I almost didn’t need to. What he was doing would have been enough. He stopped stroking for a moment to leaned down and kiss me.
That’s when I asked him to, “Please, fuck me. Please.”
He was still mostly clothed so he pulled off his shirt, jeans, and boxers before throwing my ankles over his shoulders. He dipped his dick in me just enough to wet the tip. His right thumb pushed first into my mouth, I sucked on it, then he lowered it and pushed into my ass, slowly.
Then fitting his shoulders into the backs of my knees, he pushed in.
It was warm, like it is when the pace is right, not quite burning but the best kind of friction.
Pushing against pushing.
Then right before he came he rolled of the condom, pulled me down by my hips, and guided cock easily into my mouth and with a hand behind my neck, down into my throat. It wasn’t too long because I managed it all in one breath before he released. The taste of chlorine filled my mouth, I swallowed with the tip of his dick still in my throat.
He kissed me then flipped me again.
And he let me sit on his face until my legs were shaking and I’d cum more than a few times.
I don’t remember when we stopped but when I woke up there were pillows under our heads and he’d pulled a blanket off the couch.
Kind of a happy ending, I guess.
Related: for Lebeau Pt 1
I’ve been fucking him for weeks now.
It’s been longer. I just don’t want to admit it.
Because even though we’re not together anymore it still feels like cheating.
I’ve been fucking him.
For a long time.
It only matters now because he asked.
He asked to be important to me.
But he’s not.
I fucked him.
And I can say it meant nothing but we both know it was revenge.
Invisible and anonymous.
Because you don’t even know.
He means nothing to me.
And I want to tell him to get away.
I want to tell him to pretend he never met me.
But I matter to him even though I don’t want to.
So maybe I can try to matter.