Picnic in the Park

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It’s still quite early and there’s dew on the grass. I love the park when it’s like this: wild yet still, not quite awake but with an energy, an undercurrent.

The grass is too damp to sit, but I lay out the picnic in the shady area between the rhododendrons. There aren’t many flowers here, it’s more of a wildlife park and visitors are more interested in the roaming deer than the flora. This part is always quiet, I can sit among the bushes for hours with my book, undisturbed.

He’ll be here soon. I scan the horizon and sure enough, he’s rounding the bend. Just a few more minutes…

He’s running with his head down, watching his feet maybe, or counting his steps. He’s wearing jogging bottoms, I prefer the days he wears shorts. His legs are well muscled and tanned; he always looks like he stepped off a plane from Tenerife. His earphone cord dangles in front of his body and I wonder if his lips will be moving to the music today. He’s getting closer. As he approaches I step out.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry!” He crashes into me. “I didn’t see you!”

“It’s my fault,” I say, rubbing my shoulder. He hit me with some force. “I wasn’t looking.”

“Are you ok? You look pretty shaken up. Let me help you sit down somewhere.”

“Ok, thanks. Well actually I have a picnic blanket just through there.” I indicate toward the rhododendrons. “I was just about to have an al fresco breakfast.”

He smiles and holds my arm to steady me as we walk into the bushes. My blanket is laid neatly in the clearing.

“Wow!” He runs his eyes over the plaid blanket and array of soft cushions. “You know how to make yourself comfortable. I run past here every day but I’ve never even noticed this.”

I know, I’m thinking; but I’ve noticed you.

“You’re welcome to join me for breakfast,” I smile. His eyes are blue — it was hard to tell as he ran past, but now I see. He shaves his head but I bet he’s blond.

He sits cross legged opposite me and I pour some juice into a plastic cup. Passing it to him, my fingers brush his hand. His skin is warm.

Without asking, I take a thick slice of mango from its plastic container. I have a honey sauce in a small pot; taking off the lid I dip the fruit then twirl it slowly to stop the honey dripping. It looks luscious. I hold it out to him in offering, watching his eyes carefully. He slowly reaches to take it, but I move quickly forward and he opens his mouth as the smooth sweet fruit slides between his teeth.

His eyes are on mine as he bites, and he grabs my hand. I move forward into his lap and wrap my legs around him. We don’t speak. I feed him the rest of mango and the honey glistens on his lips. Leaning forward. I leisurely lick his bottom lip with the tip of my tongue, our eyes locked. His hands are on my ass and he pulls me closer to him. His kiss is fierce and passionate, and as his tongue fills my mouth I think how I’ve waited for this moment. eryaman escort Waited, planned and hoped. His hand is holding my head as his kiss deepens and I moan with pleasure, feeling him hard and pressing between my legs.

He gasps, and his kisses move down to my neck. As I turn my head and moan softly his lips trail along to my ear, nibbling, then flutter down to my throat. I lean back and my hair streams down. My throat’s on fire. His hand follows his mouth, stroking my skin, until his fingers overtake, running lightly down my front, unbuttoning my shirt as they go, pushing back the fine cotton. Leaning back further, my hand reaches behind me and my fingers dip in the honey pot.

I stick two fingers in his mouth and he sucks, gently at first, then stronger, drawing me in. It’s so erotic. Holding his face in both hands I kiss him again, hard, and as he responds my hand goes back to the honey pot. Drawing away and leaning back slightly, I drip the honey over my breasts, the sticky substance oozing through the thin lace of my bra.

He doesn’t need asking! His lips and fingers work in partnership to suck the delicate fabric, hooking around the strap and pushing the cup aside as my swollen nipple connects with his mouth. One arm is firm around my waist, keeping my damp lace underwear wedged against his groin, my skirt hoisted up around my hips.

The pleasure is almost unbearable. I arch my back, pushing my breast further into his hot mouth. He releases his fingers and they run down my body. He makes small circles against my stomach and I gasp, then his fingers are on my underwear. He’s rubbing one finger along my slit, up and down, soaking the fine lace, hovering over my clit, barely touching me so I have to thrust my hips upwards in desperation.

And it’s so quick — two fingers are inside me and I cry out. His fingers are wide and bony as they work their way deeper, his thumb expertly circling my clit through the lace, causing a delicious friction. God, I’ve waited so long for this. I can’t wait any more. I come, shuddering against his hand and he stops me from crying out with his tongue rammed in to my mouth. I hold his head so hard, kissing him, sucking his tongue deep into my mouth as my hips grind against his hand.

Then they’re out. His fingers gleam with my cum as he pushes them into my mouth, and I can taste myself as I suck him. It’s like a lemon tart. He’s pulling back, away from my body and before I know it, he’s laid me down. He’s kissing me again and his fingers are massaging me through my knickers, now he’s pulling them down. He’s careful not to rip them and I spread my legs wide as I pull him back to me. But he’s reaching for my bag.

“Where’s that breakfast you promised?”

He’s got another wedge of mango. It’s slimy and pliable, and he brushes it over my skin, cool and juicy. Then two tanned fingers are back in the honey, and dripping over me. He wipes sincan escort them across my lips, thrusting them briefly into my mouth — I savour the sweet taste, and his kiss quickly follows. Our tongues swirl together, the sticky substance binding us as he wipes the mango across my breasts.

He’s less gentle now, biting my lip as his passion rises. I reach across to remove his running jacket. His earphones are tangled but I can hear the faint sound of Prince’s voice singing about sex. As I push the jacket from his shoulders my fingers graze the hair peeking out the top of his running vest. I run my hands down his beautifully defined abs and he moans against me. His small hard nipples are sensitive. I think I’ll kiss them, but he pushes me back down and continues his delicious assault on mine. I can’t bear it, I need him inside me.

His head is moving lower, and as he kisses my stomach he reaches for more honey. He’s passed being careful and it drips all over me. He laughs and smears it around, dragging the shiny mango slice in its wake, making my pubic hair thick and sticky. And he’s licking it off. His tongue is lapping at my skin as one hand pinches first one nipple and then the other.

His other hand works its way over my sticky hip and along the outside of my thigh, stroking the sweet honey into my skin like moisturiser. Now up the inside, it’s so sensitive, it’s s magical, I can’t keep still. My hips are jumping to meet his hand and the honeyed fingers slide the mango inside me, met quickly by his mouth.

He licks around the edges, my lips so swollen they feel they might burst. His tongue brushes over my clit and I moan. He increases the pressure, licking back and forth, while moving his fingers inside, rubbing the fruit against my G spot. I’m going to come again. I can’t keep still, or quiet.

His tongue rams deep inside me and pulls at the fruit — he’s eating it! I hold his head between my legs as another orgasm bursts through my body and my hips jut into his face, but he doesn’t let up. He’s fucking me with his tongue and rubbing his top lip over my clit, pulling at it and grazing me with his teeth. It’s an amazing sort of agony, so fantastic that I don’t want it to stop, but I want him, I need him deep in me.

I pull on his ears to grab his attention and he slides along my body. I grasp his jogging bottoms and together we yank them down. He has no pants! Kneeling in front of me, his cock is so big and I need it to fill me now. My legs are wide apart but he lifts them over his shoulders as he eases himself in. I’m gonna come again. Oh my God, I can feel my legs tensing against his chest. His hands hold my ass against his thighs as he pounds inside me. He’s groaning and his eyes are closed.

I reach up to caress his chest but I’m losing control again. I throw my hands back into my hair and he moans loudly as my cunt tightens around him, squeezing batıkent escort the juice from within him. He pulls out suddenly, and his white cream pulses over my belly.

As he kneels back and runs his hands over his head, he’s covered in a fine layer of sweat. He’s still erect. I see the honeypot nearby, almost empty now, but I wipe my fingers around the base then grasp the base of his cock, mixing the sweet stickiness with his creamy offering. I intend to lick seductively from the base to the tip, but my enthusiasm takes over, and I cram as much as I can into my mouth.

My tongue presses against his hole and his hands clench in my hair. He likes this. The stickiness of the honey is coating my teeth and I run them up and down a few times before taking one of his balls in my mouth and sucking hard. I’m too far gone to be gentle but he doesn’t seem to mind. His rests back on his elbows and lets me kiss and nibble both balls while my hand increases its pressure on his cock. It’s growing harder and I take it into my mouth again, sucking noisily as he moans in pleasure.

“What other fruity treats are in your picnic basket?” He mutters.

Actually, none, but I do have a chocolate éclair for later. I smile at him as I reach behind me, feeling for the cellophane wrapper. This will be perfect. I rip open the packaging and run my tongue along the chocolate topping.

He watches spellbound as I suck the end of the cake in the same way I’d been sucking him, then he reaches for me. I resist. Biting off the end to expose the thick whipped cream inside, I slowly encase his dick in that heavenly creaminess. He moans again, louder this time and kisses me hard as I work the éclair up and down.

He sits up and takes it from my hand, squidging it against my breasts as he lifts me and expertly aims my hot, wet fanny directly onto him. We gasp together and he’s fucking me slowly. His hands work the chocolate and cream mess into my body.

“I love cream cakes,” he murmurs as he licks and sucks this unexpected breakfast dessert from my hard nipples.

I’m rotating my hips and his pubic bone is grinding against my clit. He weaves his fingers into my hair and pulls my face close to kiss me again. There’s chocolate around his mouth and he tastes of éclair. There is so much passion in this man, I don’t want to ever let him go.

My hips are moving faster now, and he’s pushing up. Without warning he flips us, not releasing me from his grasp, but he’s on top now, pinning me to the blanket as he fucks me harder, harder and faster. Our sweat mingles with the remains of the chocolaty cream until my body feels like it’s about to rip apart. My fingernails are scratching down his back as I wrap my legs around his hips, pressing him deeper into me, deeper, deeper.

And we both come, gasping breathlessly.

We lie in silence, the morning sun beginning to shine down on us through the rhododendron branches. He sits up and dresses, gathers his iPod and some change that’s fallen from his pocket. I straighten my filthy clothes and tidy the food packaging. He stands, nods, adjusts his earphones, and he’s off. Jogging, running, heading for home.

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