Saturday 19 December 2015

Parking

He sent me a message, asking me if I wanted to meet him.  Something had come up that he wanted to discuss with me.

We are on the edge, between friends and intimate friends. We play with words, and talk about playing with bodies.

We flirt with possibilities.

He disguised it a little. Did I want to meet at the bookstore? There was a book he knew I wanted. Which bookstore and when?

I left work a little early, driving to meet him. We had arranged to meet in the parking lot. Somewhere fairly dark.

I wasn't sure what he wanted. Umm, that's not entirely true. I wasn't sure of the exact specifics of what he wanted. I thought he wanted to neck, to touch, maybe to go further. I wished I was wearing something prettier, sexier.

I hoped he wanted to spank me. Kind of complicated for a session in a car, or in a parking lot or a garage. I knew it was wishful thinking, but we've talked about it a lot.

I thought there was probably either a blow job or a hand job in what he wanted. I thought about whether it would be in the car or outside. I thought that outside would be cold and would wreck my tights, kneeling. But, if I'm honest, I didn't mind. I wanted it.

I met him, he was there first. Not a completely secluded area, but somewhere no one would bother us, they probably wouldn't see us. He told me to get in his car.

We talked briefly, kissed briefly. He touched a little, encouraged me when I touched him. He pushed his seat back as far as it would go. And then, was he impatient with how slowly I go, or just wanting to encourage or instruct me, he undid his pants, pulled his cock though the slit of his boxers and encouraged me to touch, and then ... did he guide my head to his lap or did I go there myself? I don't remember that detail.

I do remember that he wasn't completely hard when I started, but that he got that way pretty fast. I sucked, licked, sucked. He moaned, started to talk, telling me it was lovely, that I was lovely, and deviant and hot and sweet, and oh it was good. He had his hands all over me, in my hair, my back, my ass, my arms. Mostly holding my head, guiding, showing me what he wanted, and then he stopped. Did he think it was too much?

My hair was all over the place, in my way, I stopped and joked that I needed a pony tail, and he laughed, kind of a "fuck don't stop now," kind of laugh, and said that he'd hold if for me, which he did, gathering my hair and pushing me back down onto his cock. And then he held my head, and pumped me up and down and talked dirty and lovey and increasingly incoherently til he came in my mouth.

I felt... hmmm...I think I felt victorious. Like I had done things exactly right. Like I had pleased and enticed and been perfect. I was happy. I had done what he wanted, the way he wanted it. No, I didn't feel like he had taken advantage. I'm pretty sure he knew I wanted this.

I swallowed, gulped, swallowed again. Softened what I was doing, cleaned him. I don't know if he liked that part or not, he didn't say. Maybe it was too much, maybe just right, maybe not enough. I guess I'll find out if it happens again, which seems likely.

I am sure I came up smiling. I kissed him, still smiling. Which he may not have been thrilled by, as I realized later.

And then we chatted for a while, he asked if I knew what would happen when he asked me to meet him, whether I knew it was to suck his cock. I said yes. I did know it. I didn't mention the spanking hope. He knows I want it. It will come.

We kissed a bit more, he touched my tits, I wanted more. Damn, I'm easy sometimes. Or is it needy? Or is there a difference?

We discussed whether I should blog what I'm doing with him.

He offered me mints, which I suspect meant that he thought my breath smelled of blow job. I guess that was nice of him, right? Not wanting me to get caught with any suspicious evidence.

I never did go to the bookstore, but guess what? He bought me the book that he knew I wanted. He had arrived early, scouted things out, found the best place, bought me the book. I love that he bought me the book.

And then we went our separate ways. I wonder if we'll do it again?

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