True Sex Stories: Refuge

Take refuge from the night in a warm, wet, loving mouth and the smell of earth.

Fleeing the gawking, aroused and shocked stares of those who had just saw me getting fisted from across the pond to the sinews of Andy Goldsworthy's wall, we ran like children who just heard the words "ready of not here I come," we had to hide and quick.

I felt innocent and wild, like he was the first boy to ever get a feel of my pussy, even though in actuality it was his whole hand that was filling me up.

From the bench we tried to stroll like we were only appreciating the art, the show was over, then we ran. Andy Goldsworthy took refuge on us. Behind the carefully placed stone by stone wall we hid–-we laughed-–astounded at our own blatant behavior. We kissed, our lust fueled again. The smell of earth and stone and my cunt were everywhere. I needed cock.

The wet panties had to go.

Slipping them off shoving them into my tiny hand bag, I hike my soft skirt up–bend in half and show you my ass, from behind I run my fingers into the swell between my thighs. Turning toward you, lowering to my knees I begin the undo, the the belt the buttons, give me that cock already.

The head of your cock pops out from the hole of your polka dot boxers– the thickness fills my hands and then my mouth. I suck with earnest–I am that woman who wants to make your cock hard as possible just so you will fuck me with it. I am not sucking for you, but for me. To make your cock mine, to make it where I need to it be– so I can truly feel it when you plunge into my cunt. The fisting, that verge of orgasm has me focused on one mission–to feel you fill me up.

Sloppily I get you slicked up, my knees into the earth, the sticks, pebbles and dirt sticking to my knees–the lack of comfort  is no deterrence for my want of your thickness. Your ready, and I was ready when we were back on that bench.

Again, in half I bend, my hands steadied by Mr. Goldswothy's sound construction and the soil below me. Your hands grab my ass plowing your root into me, the rhythm and the cadence grow, my pussy tightens and locks onto you. We have no choice but to slow down, my cunt has locked us together. Deeper is the only answer.

Fuck me growls out of my mouth.
"Fuck me."
"Fuck me."
My cunt forces you out of me, she does that sometime, I turn back around your dick dangling hard in front of me –irritated, coated in a mucus cream from inside of me, anxious and dripping from its tip. To my knees I fall and mount your branch with my mouth. When I look up the sunlight from the trees glistens and filters and glints through the the green lenses of my sunglasses, looking at you from below you too appear to be lost in the sunlight.

A jerk from deep inside you cues me, I give a nice slow flat tongue lick along the back side of your cock–from balls to tip, swallow you down, hold you there. Backing out of my mouth willingly and unwillingly–you stroke while I watch, it only takes few measured pumps in your hand until silver clear strands fill the air, landing on my waiting tongue, and hair and fingers. Looking up at you I smile show you the cum on my finger on tongue then drink you down.

I love the way you cum.

Republished with permission from Library Vixen. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo by John B. Root.