With every passing day, Elizabeth found she was drawn to The Southside like a moth to a flame, and she’s fortunate that her work allows her the freedom to explore. No matter how hard she tries to resist it, she can’t.
Bordering Strathbungo is Shawlands, a bustling area with excellent coffee shops, bistros and pubs. One afternoon, whilst sitting alone listening to the birds twitter on the tree outside her bedroom window, she had the urge to visit one of the coffee shops and maybe indulge herself. On Impulse, she grabbed the keys of her Mercedes sports car and crossed the River Clyde heading south. The Titwood had delivered and will again, but other possibilities existed? She wanted to check out Camp Hill or Hill sixty, so called because it is sixty metres above sea level. She’s not interested in the Geography or history of the place but in something else. Something that stirs her mind to want to know more. She’s heard mutterings about it in the Titwood, and to say it piqued her interest would be an understatement.
Hill sixty is an area in Queens Park in the middle of Strathbungo and Shawlands for dirty, dark deeds to take place, not a pick-up place, but where you take your ‘burd’ when you want to get your end away. It’s also a place for peekers, dirty old men who hide and watch the action. Rumour has it that the Hill sixty comes from the record number of shags one lucky lady had in a week! But that’s just hearsay.
The thought of being fucked in a public park appeals to Elizabeth, watched by strangers and voyeurs. All those unseen eyes witnessing her sexual debauchery would turn her on far more than the act itself. Not to mention what the men would get up to. Leaving traces of their DNA all over the trees and bushes.
Her mind is suddenly awash with images of all those eyes watching her tits bounce as she fucks some stranger.
On the journey, she nearly collided with a white pickup van when the lights suddenly turned red; her mind was firmly on calculating how much spunk had seeped into the ground on Hill 60 over time. She breathed a sigh of relief to find she was still six inches behind the van’s bumper. She eventually pulled into a parking space while driving along Camphill Avenue, beside Queen’s Park, and stopped next to the fence.
Elizabeth took a deep breath, opened the door and swung her legs out of the car, her short black dress riding high on her thighs to reveal the black stockings. The tightness of the dress and the confined space make her exit more awkward than it should. A man in the car parked opposite, notices her dilemma, stares and smiles. She spreads her legs to give herself more stability, looks in his direction and smiles back. She knows he can see her stockings and suspenders. What she doesn’t know is whether he noticed her shaved pussy on full display when she opened her thighs. She leaned forward to stand. Her breasts almost flow out of her demi-cup bra to the man’s delight. She locks the car door and looks at him. She wanted to ask whether he’s soiled the inside of his trousers, but she is too polite.
She takes a few steps to get her bearings and eventually heads for the more upmarket Granary for lunch. The place is full, but all she wants is a single seat, preferably near the window, where she can be seen by passersby.
A waitress appears to take her simple order: a Caesar salad and coffee with sugar, no milk. Her attention is drawn to the back of a gorgeous barman who is dressed equally immaculately as she is. When he turns, she smiles. With her hand raised, she waves. Dark Dickie notices her and waves back.
Dashing over to engage him in conversation, she almost trips over the chair.
“How come you work here?”
Dark by nature and darker than a horse when it comes to imagination, Elizabeth didn’t imagine him in a place like this. With too much work on his hands, the conversation was short.
“When do you finish?” she asks.
“In about an hour,” he replies.
“Join me when you’re free,” she points to the chair in the window. She wiggles her tits at him for good measure and winks, and in that moment, transforms herself into Betty.
The hour passes quickly. She devours her lunch, drinks her coffee and orders a second one before Dark Dickie, or Richard as he is known to his colleagues, joins her. They have a quick conversation about his work as a barman, the place in general, and everything he likes about it. It is not his only job; there are others along the same lines. Occasionally, he also works as a barman in the Titwood.
“Fancy going for a walk?” Richard asks.
“In Queen’s Park? Are you being naughty?” she points out of the window, knowing that her intention is worse than naughty. Her mind is screaming, ‘Show me.’
“I know of a great place if you’re interested.”
A pout forms on Betty’s lips. Her eyes light up. Her mind is awash with naughty thoughts.
“Let me guess,” she says.
She rolls her eyes, bites her lip. “It’s over there somewhere, isn’t it?”
“What is?” asks Richard.
“Hill sixty,” she smirks. “Don’t you want to get your hands on these?” she adds, leaning forward over the table and wiggling her shoulders.
Richard smiles. He doesn’t reply, just stands up and takes her hand. They walk out of the bar and head into Queen’s Park for a stroll. Betty’s phone rings as they walk, and Richard takes the opportunity to text BigMac.
‘I’m with Betty, strolling up to Hill sixty. She looks HaF. Where are u?’
Betty apologises for the phone call, slips her arm into his and heads off towards Hill sixty.
She smiles to herself. I’m going to get shagged in broad daylight, and he doesn’t even know I’m knickerless.
They continue past the greenhouses and the walled garden. A group of men stand alongside the path, passing the time of day. Their stares focus on Richard and Betty as they near. She doesn’t notice Richard wink at the men as they continue to walk past.
Richard turns onto a well-concealed path, hidden by Rhodoendron bushes. Although Hill sixty is legendary, the exact location where salacious activity takes place is known to very few people, and for their own nefarious reasons, they share it with only those who are like-minded, and Richard is one of the chosen ones for obvious reasons. The climb has a brutal effect on her heels, and she is forced to remove them and walk barefoot to the top. They eventually reach a clearing, and through the branches and bushes, lies another panoramic view of the city.
It certainly looks like it has lived up to its name as a place for dark, dirty deeds. It feels very remote and isolated, and the air is still. Scattered around is the proof Betty needs that this is the correct place: the occasional bra hanging off a branch, thongs crumpled into the mud under the bushes, and discarded and ripped stockings serving no other purpose than to advertise the acts that this place must have been privy to.
Betty felt annoyed that she was commando and that her knickers would not be part of the final display. Her new bra wouldn’t be part of the display either, as there was no way she would part with that. She sat on one of the steel benches. It had an immediate freezing effect on her backside despite the warmth of the day. Richard couldn’t help but glance down her cleavage, and Betty smiled inwardly at his attempts at not looking so obvious.
“On a clear day, you can see Ben More and Stob Binnein from here,” Richard comments, intending to appear all educated. In truth, he knew a lot about the area where he was brought up, and its history.
“Are you referring to my tits?” Betty replies.
“They are nice and big,” he says, looking at them and then at her. A glance over his shoulder ensures they are alone. He slips his hand over the top of her fleshy mounds, relishing in the feel of her silky smooth skin. A finger gets stuck in her cleavage, and he pushes it down further. He wanted to pull them out, but that would have been blatant, and he knows better. He knows how to treat a lady, but then Betty is no lady, or is she?
The sheer excitement from having his hands dip into her cleavage thrills her. She wants him to push them down, cup her full breasts and squeeze. Turn her head to face him and kiss her passionately. Instead, he lifts his hand out, leaving her a little disappointed.
She stands up and moves towards the metal balustrade ring that circles and encases what was believed to be a fourteenth-century Norman Earthworks. Leaning against it, she looks at Richard with devious eyes.
“Are you going to fuck me over this?” she tests it to make sure it is sturdy.
Richard joins her, the bulge in his pants obvious as he approaches.
“Do you want me to fuck you over this?” he asks, pressing into her. Pushing her backwards with his throbbing erection. “Or, over there by the tree.”
She looks at the tree. The area beneath it has been well used; she could even make out depressions in the ground for a bum and two knees.
“Over there,” she grins. “I want to be on top.”
The area seemed empty at first glance, but Betty’s astute senses were heightened, and she became aware of the rustling of branches, shuffling sounds in the undergrowth and a sense of peering eyes.
They are not alone. Their audience awaits. The peekers are already in place, waiting for the star of the show. The exhibitionists.
Betty is already horny, but a new daring and reckless feeling takes an intense grip on her. The tingling starts in her toes and, like a flame, rapidly creeps up her legs, over her thighs and into the deepest depths of her body. Her skin is on fire with every step towards the tree. Her pussy is soaking wet. Her breasts and her nipples are hard. Her breathing is erratic.
Richard turns her around to face him. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
She is amazed at his cultured accent and sensitivity. Gone is the rough Glaswegian brogue he uses in The Titwood and The Granary. Which is the real Richard?
Betty steps back and offers to unzip the clingy dress. She slowly removes it, leaving the demi bra, stockings and suspenders in place on her voluptuous body. It’s an enticement crying out to Richard’s eyes.
Stepping closer to him, she cops a feel of his dick. Her fingers are tracing the outline that seems to go on forever. She imagines the worst. So she says it.
“Be as imaginative and as rough as you want.” Her eyes search his for confirmation that he understands.
In an instant, her bra is unclipped, and her breasts bounce free, but only for as long as it takes him to grope and paw at her flesh, and none too gently. Her white skin against the black of her handler looks incredible. His mouth follows suit. Lifting her white breast towards his mouth to taste the eager to be sucked nipples into it, filling his mouth with tit flesh in the process. She is pressed hard against the tree.
Betty looks at the man devouring her. This gorgeous black stud handles her like she’s always wanted to be handled. Warm air flows over her naked body, and every voluptuous curve is on display for everyone to see. There’s no hiding what they are doing. Over and over, her senses take on more information: a public park, dressed to please, a big black cock, not that she has seen it yet, people watching.
And then she hears the rustling to her left. Yes, people watching her get fucked, probably with their cocks out, tossing themselves off to the sight and sounds of her copulation. She decides that she is going to be loud about it.
Her soul suddenly fills with a craving she has never before experienced. Her senses heighten to a degree that stuns her. Again, her naked body is pressed against the bark of the tree, the tree that has witnessed this scene a million times and more. She wonders whether it was around for the legendary sixty shags?
She feels the rough edges dig into her soft flesh, branding her, claiming her as another conquest. The sensation feels electric, and she can hear the cries and groans of all who came before her. The air fills with an earthy, musky scent – the scent of primaeval lust and sex. Betty is aware that Richard is fully in control, fully dressed. His long, clever fingers probe at her point of no return while his mouth claims hers in a fierce frenzy. But, God, does she want his cock in her pussy.
With a strength she didn’t know she possessed, she pushes him away. His look of amazement spurs her on. Swiftly, she reaches out and unzips him, catching him unawares with the unexpected move. Her reward is the most perfect cock she has ever seen. Huge and thick, a beautiful black velvet rod, succulent and delicious. Instinctively, she falls to her knees in a form of pagan worship. She has to feel and taste this work of art. She is unaware of her knees sinking into the soft ground, her imprint creating another notch for Hill sixty.
Gently, hesitantly, and reverently, she begins to touch him with the tips of her fingers. Her face, a mere inch away from this pulsing perfection. Again, a scent assails her. The undisguised scent of man, of testosterone, of sex. Her touch whispers along his length, and he shudders, losing control at this slow, sensual skill that he was not expecting and has never experienced.
His legs begin to shake. Betty feels in control, a secretive knowing smile creeps across her lips as she carefully draws him to the ground. Another imprint in Hill sixty’s history. She sits astride him, moving her hands to his hips. Lowering her face, her mouth and tongue repeat the gentle movements her fingers made. Slow probing licks and nibbles. Richard’s body begins to shudder, and with eyes closed, his hands find their way to her hanging breasts, grabbing them like a drowning soul. Instantly, the mood changes, and she clutches his balls while her mouth devours his shaft. She can almost feel the filthy peeker’s eyes bulging in their sockets.
Richard’s control wanes, and with quick movement, he arises and pushes Betty into a crouching position, legs wide, head down, and hands outstretched. Her glorious suspenders frame her backside, with her stockings aching to be a remnant of their coupling. As he stands behind her, he marvels at her ravishing beauty, his cock aching to feel her insides as he pushes into the open, wet, inviting pussy.
Their combined groans cover the appreciative noises made from the bushes. The ecstatic peekers are joined by Big Mac, who records every thrust, every groan, every sexual twist and turn of their bodies. His professionalism and dedication to capturing Betty’s wanton exhibitionism become difficult with a straining piece of meat vying for attention in his jeans, and unlike the peekers, he cannot wank in time to the action.
Big Mac watches and records every filthy, dirty move and is mesmerised when Betty moves over Richard to guide his dick into her. Riding his huge black length, she feels her climax mount. Shadows in the bushes emerge into physical forms, as she becomes aware of the peekers watching her, masturbating, leering at them, wishing it was them and not Richard between her thighs.
It is just what she needs to see for the dam to burst. She imagines the men splattering the bushes with their cum as her body shudders with her release.
Betty is desperate to feel Richard’s cock deeper inside, and she shifts position to allow it. In doing so, she spies a guy to her left, his cock out, leaning with his back against a silver birch tree, and eyes fixed on hers. She stares back, smiles and moans as she drops down on Richard’s cock. She lifts his head into her cleavage to allow him to feast on her tit flesh and watches the stranger shoot his load towards them. The sight thrills her, she shudders and allows her climax to course through her.
To her right, another stranger strokes one out, contributing to a resurgence of pleasure within her. Another climax is squeezed out of her body, encouraged by the throbbing probing of Richard’s hard dick and all the strangers revealing themselves, hoping to get in on the act.
Richard loses his load in relative silence, preferring to push his cock deep inside and stop her from rocking her hips on top of him. He holds her tight with his head between her breasts as he empties himself.
Mac, of course, catches all the action on video while remaining hidden, even the part where Betty scoops spunk off the bark of a tree on their way down from Hill sixty, leftovers from one of the peekers who have receded into the background as quietly as they appeared.
The video will be shared with Richard, Two Soups, and even Betty might get a copy. But only if she’s naughty enough to deserve one.
