It was 12pm and she was taking a break from work, looking out over the small lake watching the duck’s wake criss-cross the glassy water. The sun was out but the air was crisp as she took in deep inhalations, wondering if the fog in her head would ever clear so she could find a way out of the rut she was stuck in. She wanted passion, fervour and zeal. Life was too short for anything less.
He wondered as he wandered around the small lake. He wished that life could be simpler. He wished that the one whom he was to spend the rest of his life with loved him. Loved him for who he is, not the lifestyle he attained. He wished money didn’t exist, and that materialistic and unnatural needs and wants didn’t need to be satisfied. What kind of people have we become? Have we really put aside our basic emotional and spiritual needs for commercialism and consumerism?
She sensed him before she heard his light footsteps on the mossy concrete. She moved her eyes in his direction and made immediate eye contact with him. She felt an immediate connection and understanding. She looked through the windows to his soul and saw what she saw in herself; a want and a need for something more real and more intense than the present.
It was impossible for him to draw his eyes away from hers. The rest of the world was a blur while he was focused on her. Nothing else mattered. She looked so natural and had an amazing sexual aura that he knew he had to get to know. As he made a beeline for her, he wondered if there was anything he could say, but he was lost for words. They seemed to have an unspoken understanding, like that of a decades old marriage, or an identical pair of twins.
They exchanged pleasantries, but the words were unnecessary and superficial. They had a physical attraction more powerful than either had ever felt before. Her yearning hazel eyes drew his hardened dark grey eyes closer, and before either could change anything, even if they wanted to, their lips were pressed together. They closed their eyes and got lost in the moment. Seeing more passion in the blackness than either had seen before. His large hand caressed the side of her face as she ran her hand around his neck and through his hair. She leaned into him more now, their tongues dancing a seductive Samba number together. Either could have died a happy person at that moment in each other’s embrace. This is what they wanted, and where they wanted to be.
She slipped her hand into his trench coat and ran it down his chest. Her tongue probing deeper as her hand slid down across his stomach. He jumped as she ran her finger nails over his pants, across his hardness. In retaliation to her, he ran his hand over her thighs. Deciding to venture further, he ran his hand up the inside of her tight skirt, parting her legs slightly as his fingers crept further. She was squirming as his hand swept across her moist panties, barely making contact. She gasped as her head fell backwards, revealing her neck, surrendering her body.
He stood and grasping both her hands he pulled her to her feet. Glancing briefly he rushed her along the pathway, leading her by their interlocked fingers. He forgot work and he forgot his worries as he held her in front of him and rushed her through the busy streets towards his house. He flung the gate open and firmly pushed her up against the front door, kissing her mouth hard, breathing into her ears lightly and fumbling for the correct key. They almost fell as the door swung open and they stumbled inside.
She spun him around, flipped of his coat and pushed him down on a chair. Pulling her skirt up around her waist, she dropped herself down, straddling his lap. They continued where they had stopped earlier on, on the park bench. She ground on him as they kissed each other’s faces and necks. She began unbuttoning his shirt and running her hands across his hard body. She felt his hands under her shirt, holding her hips, pulling her closer and harder onto him.
After tearing off his shirt she unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants, hungry to discover what she would feel pressing into her wetness.
He unbuttoned her shirt as quickly as possible, revealing a black lace bra. But it was not her tits he was interested in, not at this stage. He ran his hand down the front of her, down to the waist of her skirt. He slid his hand under her skirt, into her wet panties and cupped her sex. She pushed down onto him, jamming his hand between him and her pussy. He began to rub his hand across her, higher as his middle finger found her clit and she arched her back and gasped into his ear once again.
She was holding his head in the crook of her neck, while he rubbed her pussy. She was aching for him to slide a finger into her as she rocked in his lap more vigorously. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt pleasure this great between her legs before, bar being in the throes of an orgasm. But this was taken to new heights when she felt his index and middle finger slide into her wetness with as she grinded forward into him. She felt his other hand spread across the small of his back and his fingers, now plunged deep into her, begin to curve forward and massage her g-spot. Before she could prepare herself, waves of pleasure swept through her body, she wrapped herself around him, paralysed, and her pussy gushed with her come.
The feeling of her release had his cock throbbing inside his pants, eager to be let out. Once she stood, he quickly pushed his pants to his ankles. He watched her wiggle her hips and let her skirt fall to the floor, her soaking panties following. Standing over him, she watched her reach down and grasps his cock in her hand. Her soft fingers ran up and down him, and then helped guide him into her as she lowered herself down. The head of his cock slipped in easily – she was so wet. Her pussy continued on its decent down his shaft until she bottomed out. There they sat for a long moment, and he savoured her intense warmth. He felt her begin to grind on his cock. Back and forth, her body sliding up and down his, then in circular motions.
He cupped her butt cheeks with one hand and held her lower back with the other and lifted her up, their bodies still connected. He walked her to the telephone table, shifted the items to one side and sat her down on it. She pushed her hips toward him and wrapped her legs around his butt and he started to thrust into her pussy. Slowly and gently at first, watching his cock being enveloped over and over by her pink pussy lips. She urged him with her eyes to fuck her harder and faster. She put her arms around his neck and he leant into her as she lay back against the wall and, holding his upper body still, he pounded her pussy with strong pelvic thrusts. Their thighs slapping together as they brought each other closer to orgasm, the table banging against the wall like the beat of a drum, in time with their moaning.
His balls began to tighten as her pussy contracted. They both moaned into each other mouths. His trusts slowed but remained just as hard, pushing as deep as he could into her. As the intensity reached a climax, he put his left arm on the wall behind her and wrapped his arm around her lower back, forcing her up onto him as both their bodies tensed up. Her pussy constricted in waves and his cock pulsated, shooting come deep inside of her. The feeling seemed to last forever, suspended in time. Never wanting the feeling to end, the orgasm subsided and let go of its hold over their taught bodies. They collapsed onto the table, breathing heavily, their sticky bodies held together, revelling in the moment.
Only then did they whisper the first words to each other that really mattered that afternoon, or meant anything: I love you.
She left without another word; she didn’t know what else to say. One thing she did know for sure is where she would be tomorrow and when. He did too. 12pm at the lake.
