He’d pressed his chin against my clit. My thin dress had to be soaking up some of my wetness. If he didn’t move his face soon, he’d surely notice.
I felt the aching between my legs again. Damn he was good. He could turn me on in a matter of seconds, then go back to chatting about everyday life. Braden was a master at verbal and sexual swordplay. He’d strike and then back off with the fluidity of a graceful dancer.
He reached out for his cup. I couldn’t see very well but it seemed like he was draining the water. The splashing sound against the grass confirmed it. I heard the rattle of ice in the waxed paper cup.
Suddenly his left hand came up to my chin.
“Put your hands over your head,” he said.
I did, gripping my little square mirror in both hands like a makeshift pair of handcuffs. He held onto one of my wrists.
His other hand was…
OHHH. There it is.
It was up my dress. He walked his fingers against my panties, right over the soft outer folds of my pussy. He kept his fingers there for a second, slightly petting me, but in a soft, sensual way.
“You’re moist,” he said.
He pulled his hand out of my dress and stuck his two fingers in his mouth.
“Mmm. You taste good.”
I had my hands on the mirror. It was the only thing stopping me from reaching down, grabbing the back of his head, and burying his face between my legs. I wanted him there so bad.
“Taste me more,” I said. “Taste it all.”
“Is that one of your requests?”
Oh man, yes it is.
It definitely was. But I only had three. Did I really want to waste one this early on? He struck me as a rule abider. He might actually get off on seeing me waste all my points before having him inside me. I could imagine him dropping me off at home with just a final hug and a “see you later.” No sex…because I had no requests left.
Fuck that.
“No,” I said. “It should be one of yours.”
He sucked on his fingers again.
“And maybe it will be. But not yet.”
He reached down, I guessed to pick up his cup. Then his lips touched my leg. First warm, soft, luscious lips kissing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. As he played against my flesh I felt my hips buck a little. A hollow-like starvation screamed from between my legs. I needed him there.
Then I felt it. Ice cold, wet, freezing. He must have had an ice cube between his teeth because he was running it along my thigh, up a little higher, and a little higher. My pussy throbbed. I wanted his ice, his tongue, his cock to ravage me.
Fuck it’s cold, but oh my…it is so hot.
I took one hand off the mirror and reached down to him. I gripped his hair in my hand and I squeezed, yanking on it. He grunted. I pulled again. He moaned.
He opened his mouth against my thigh, taking skin in his lips, and sucked. It was cold. I could feel his tongue moving around against me and I wanted to bury his face in me, to smother his mouth with my swollen pussy lips. I wanted him to truly taste me.
“Forget the game,” I said. “Just…just…Braden forget the damned game and put me in your mouth.”
He stood, grabbed my hand, and forced it back up top with my other one.
“Taste me,” I said.
“I will.”
He moved his head up the bottom of my dress.
Yes…yes…yes…
He reached my hot mound and I bucked, trying to put it closer to his face. He licked me over my panties, swirling his tongue around the thin cotton barricade that prevented his mouth from really reaching me. But I could feel him. It was the oral sex version of dry humping. And I wanted to hump the shit out of him, knowing it wouldn’t be dry at all.
“I taste your pussy,” he said. “It tastes so good.”
I was so fucking horny. I felt my eyes roll back. He was driving me insane.
Then he did something I would have never expected, especially in a public place. He took both of his hands, reached up to the neck of my dress, and yanked, ripping it open. My breasts spilled out, gravity taking over and pulling them to the sides even with my bra doing its best to keep my sizeable boobs secure.
I gasped.
“Are you crazy?” I asked.
“I hate that fucking dress,” he said as he ripped it further, all the way to my waist, leaving me nothing but a black mini skirt with an odd set of drapes dangling over the sides of the slide.
Well you could have said that shit earlier and I would’ve changed, buddy.
But my internal jokes weren’t flowing out of my mouth as quickly as my next gasp, when he shoved more ice into his mouth and went to the top of my waistline. His cold mouth licked the soft spot on my stomach between my pubic hair and my belly button.
I leaned up to see if anyone could see us and there was no one in sight. We were alone.
I reached down with one hand and slid the right side of my new skirt down, revealing half of my trimmed spot and my right butt cheek. Braden was a good boy and met me half way, taking his ice filled mouth to the crease between my leg and my wet pussy.
He pulled the skirt down and licked my thigh, getting closer and closer to my ass. For the first time, ever, I wanted it licked. I wanted him to keep going all the way to my second hole. I lifted my right leg trying to guide him further down.
He withdrew his mouth and moved back up to my stomach.
I’m going to kill him.
My pussy, my ass, all of it ached. I don’t know if you can secrete sexual juices from your butthole, but if it’s possible, I was doing it. I felt soaked down there. And he was once again denying me the pleasure of feeling his tongue lapping it up.
His palm pressed against me though and his fingers found my clit, again, not going beneath the panties. I wanted to scream. Any other guy would have fucked me by now. At least that’s how it had always happened in the past.
Not this guy.
And as much as I loved every damned second of it, I hated it at the same time. I hated him. And I wanted him even more because of it.
“Put your finger inside me,” I begged.
“Is that a request?”
“Damn it! Yes, yes, yes it’s a fucking request. Put something inside of me. I can’t take it anymore.”
I’d lost one request. Two left. And as I silently did the math in my head, his hand found its way back to my skirt. He dipped down below it, pulled my panties to the side, and it was exactly what I needed.
He twirled around my pussy a few times with his finger, getting it wet with my juices, then I felt it. It was like someone had pushed a button on me and I was finally allowed to breathe. And I did. And I think I breathed too hard.
I heard a slight chuckle and then he was fucking me with his finger. I reached out with my left hand and pulled him on top of me. With my right hand I held out the mirror and tried to get a glimpse of him plugging away at my hot and dripping pussy.
He wasn’t done yet.
His mouth made its way back up to my chest. With his left hand he poured ice into his mouth and then tossed the cup to the grass.
He didn’t bother with a clasp. He had one hand busy and the other was either too clumsy or too greedy because he just yanked the cups of my bra up over my breasts. It hurt. But it was okay.
His tongue reached for my right breast and as I stared down at him I could see the rock hard bud of my nipple silhouetted in front of his face. He was coming for it and if it were possible to get any more turned on when a guy was fingering you this was that moment.
He turned his head to the side and kind of rested his cheek against one breast while he took the other one in his hand and pulled it to his mouth.
The ice touched my nipple and for a second I thought I might pee on him. I jumped. My back arched and I reached down to grab his knuckles and shove his finger deeper into me.
I wanted to cry out but I lifted my head just in time and saw the shadow of a man walking past the playground.
I heard keys jingling.
Braden either didn’t hear or didn’t care. He tongued my nipple and buried his ice-filled mouth, now melted and nearly gone, around my areola. With his teeth just barely scraping my nipple, he rocked his mouth in rhythm with his thrusting hand.
I closed my eyes and my head fell back against the slide, banging a little louder and a little harder than I meant to.
A flashlight beam shot across the playground.
“Oh shit,” I whispered. “Braden, security.”
He pulled out of me and if it hadn’t been for the sudden fear of getting caught, I might’ve cried. I didn’t want it to end.
He grabbed my waist and helped me off the slide while I fumbled with my torn dress. What the hell was I going to do? I was half naked at a freaking carnival.
He scooped up the shredded threads and carried them for me as he led me behind a big bush where we could hide. The sound of the security guard’s keys jingled all the way over to the slide where we’d been only moments before.
I peered through the leaves of the bush and saw the security guard reach down to pick up Braden’s paper cup. He crumpled it up in his hand.
“Fuckin’ kids,” he said.
He tossed the cup into a garbage can.
“Go home! It’s past your bedtime dammit!”
I had to fight the urge to laugh. Braden looked like he was doing his best to remain quiet too.
The security guard left us alone and I immediately straddled Braden there on the grass.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said. “Take me to a hotel.”
“Later,” he said. “We still have an hour left till the park closes. And I know what my first request is.”
I rolled my eyes, “Should I be scared?”
“Not unless a hand job on the Tilt-A-Whirl scares you.”
Ha.
“That I can do,” I said. “But how in the hell am I going to…”
I pointed down at my exposed bra and midsection, made very visible through the last remaining shreds of black dress hanging on for dear life.
Act 3 – The Flame’s Fandy (ha, new word)
I have to say we did a damned good job of turning my dress into a mini skirt and his charcoal sweater into the perfect over shirt. I looked like a freezing cold girlfriend who’d begged her man for his sweater. Fine by me.
Two tickets later, we were on the Tilt-A-Whirl. We weren’t alone. Two other couples and one single guy were along for the ride. We strategically picked our metal half-shell to minimize exposure.
The black fabric we’d ripped off my dress provided the perfect sheet for what I had planned. I didn’t even wait for the ride to begin moving. I didn’t want to lose momentum. I was still wet and I was going to stay that way until he caused me to be so spent I couldn’t take anymore.
I draped our makeshift sheet over his lap and shoved his hand up under my new sweater. He didn’t hesitate, finding my nipples again by lifting up the cups.
Doesn’t he know there’s a clasp?
Somehow the Neanderthal part of him was what turned me on most. He wasn’t going to fumble with a clasp when he could more easily just rip the damned bra off. That was kind of hot.
But it was kind of painful at the same time. Regardless of what many men seem to think, tits aren’t made of rubber. Well…not the natural ones anyway.
“Hold on,” I said as I reached up under the sweater, unclasped the bra and pulled it down over my shoulders. Feeling my breasts float freely was liberating and the rough sweater material against my bare nipples was exhilarating.
“There,” I said as I took his hand and placed it under my shirt.
“Holy shit,” he said. “You are so fucking hot. Your tits are just…unbelievable.”
Believe it, buddy…and…get on with it already.
Right on cue, he cupped his hand under my breast and lightly slid his thumb over my erect nipple.
The ride started to move as I slid closer and kissed him, forcing my tongue past his teeth and into his mouth. His tongue met mine and we were right back in sync.
I reached below the drapes and found his belt. I unbuckled it with the flawless skill that only a woman can perform. I methodically unbuttoned his trousers, unzipped his zipper, and opened them up to provide plenty of room to work with.
He kissed me harder and I knew the release of his pants must’ve felt a lot like letting my breasts free.
Our half-shell began to turn. I reached to his waist with both hands and pulled his pants down just a little. It was dark in our cart but the lights from the outside shone in just a little and I got a glimpse of his bulge beneath white boxer briefs.
His white underwear was pitched up slightly, his member fighting to free itself, a dot of moisture at its tip. I rubbed my finger against it, feeling the pre-come spread out a little beneath his britches. I fought the urge to grab him, pull him through the hole in front of his briefs, and suck the salty first dab of his seed off him. I wanted to.
I cupped my hand over his cock, running my thumb back and forth over the head. My ex used to love it when I did that. I circled the knob, running my long fingernail below the shaft where I knew he’d have a large vein aching to be touched.
He lifted a little off his seat and I knew I had him.
It may be cliché, but payback is a bitch.
I held his cock in my hand and rolled my fingers as if tapping them along a table. Each time my fingers rolled, I felt his legs jerk a little.
Braden had his head tilted back and was biting his bottom lip. He was loving me right then. He was mine and I was all that mattered in the world.
“Take it out,” he begged.
I grinned.
“Is that a request?”
His eye opened and he cocked his head, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s the same request,” he argued.
He was getting rambunctious so I had to remind him who was in charge. I pressed two fingernails against the vein beneath the head of his penis.
“This is my hand job, handsome. If you want more, all you have to do is ask.”
He reached out for my face and I swatted his hand away. I leaned in close so that my lips were touching his earlobe. I took his lobe in my lips and sucked on it, letting it fall out of my mouth with a thud.
“Take it out and stroke it,” he pleaded. “It’s a request. For fuck’s sake it’s a request. I’m down two points.”
I loved it. I wanted to squeal. Not only was I finally going to get to feel his cock in my hand, but I’d shown him that I was quite capable of playing at his level.
“As you wish,” I said.
I pulled back the waistband of his briefs and I swear his dick practically jumped out of them. I won’t say that he was huge, but he was bigger than average, and damn if it didn’t pounce on me when I freed it.
I looked at it for a second. It was a pretty penis. Not all are. Some are fucking ugly. Some look like little Venus flytraps.
Feed me, Seymour.
This one was nice, smooth, and handsome like its owner. I took it in my hand, wrapping my fingers around it at the base, and squeezed it. It stuck up out of my balled up fist. I put my other fist around it and it didn’t quite reach through the second.
I looked up at Braden and he was watching me. I gave his cock a squeeze, and as I did, I could feel it pulsating. It had gotten harder since its release.
My pussy yearned for it, I’m not gonna lie. I was dripping as I held it in my fist. I imagined holding it steady while I lowered myself down onto it, his hands gripping the hard metal seat while his cock slid into me inch by inch.
I began to stroke it, moving my hand up gently then down a little harder. Up softly then down making sure to stretch the skin to its breaking point. And Braden moaned with each downward thrust.
I rolled my fingers around the way I had over his briefs, but this time I made sure to put pressure at the spot just below the head, giving a final squeeze with each roll. I rubbed at his head with
my thumb, using his pre-come to make it slick enough to really play with. I found the crease at the back of the head, right at the top of the vein, and rubbed there, his slippery cock tensing as I worked it.
The half-shell spun a little faster and faster. I wasn’t a fan of moving, spinning things. For some reason I thought this ride stayed a little more still. Suddenly I felt us getting thrown to one end of the platform then yanked back, gravity grabbing hold, and I tugged on his member.
Kinky Carnival Games (A Romance Novella): Maybe Mandy 1 Page 5
