Playtime in the Par

We're in a little brunch spot. Our original plans for a slow, lazy Sunday had been damaged somewhat. Even though we had the best intentions for a leisurely wake up, we ended up with what could best be described as a vigorous start to the morning. Yoga with fresh bruises and cum on my face was a challenge, and we are both ravenous.

"We'll both have the bottomless mimosas, thanks," you tell the server. When they leave , I raise my eyebrow.

"Trying to get me tipsy, Sir?"

"I don't need you drunk to take advantage of you, boi. But I do want you relaxed." I smile, and my stomach clenches a little in anticipation.

It's a pleasant meal. You help me to choose something delicious - corned beef hash with hollandaise. I am decidedly tipsy by the end, though. As I become more disinhibited, your idle caresses of my knee under the table start to move higher, and be less idle. I see now why you wanted me relaxed, and why you had requested I bring a dress for this morning.

I had just put my last forkful into my mouth when I feel your hand firmly grip my leg up high, right where my panties end. I catch your eye, and you smile.

"Enjoying your meal?" Your fingers slide under the cotton and slip along my cunt.

"Y-yes, very much."

"I am too. Everything is delightful. But I think it's time to walk these drinks off, don't you?" I nod, a blush creeping up my chest to my cheeks. "Good. Let's go." We settle up and walk out.

It's a crisp late morning, but gray. Not many people out in the park we start to walk through. It isn't a typical stroll. The quick stolen kiss here and there is normal. But most walks in the park don't include bending someone over a fence to lift their skirt and spank their ass. Even that comes to feel tame as you pull down my top and bite my chest so hard I scream. You take your time covering me back up, admiring your teeth marks in the sunlight. Someone walks around the bend in the path up ahead and, to my shame, you still don't pull my neckline back up.

"Please Sir."

"Please what?"

"Please don't let him see me."

"Are you ashamed of your sluttiness, my boi? You shouldn't be. I like it quite a lot." But you do cover me back up. As we walk past him, he gives a you a nod, but I can't look at him, and my cheeks are burning.

"Let's sit."

Whoever designed this park must have known this bench was for fucking. It is off the path, secluded. If you know where to look, you could see what someone was up to. But only if you knew. You sit, but point me to the ground. I've never knelt in public for you, and I have to take a deep breath before sinking to my knees and leaning my head on your knee.

"Good boi." You stroke my head, and I breathe slowly, and close my eyes. But, too soon, my relaxation is broken by the sound of your zipper.

My eyes fly open and I look up to you for guidance. "Sir?"

"You know what to do, Clodia. Please me."

I look back down, a little afraid, but a little aroused too, at the sight of your cock peeking out from your pants. I shift my body between your legs and run just the very tip of my tongue along your shaft. Your cock is already hard, probably from exposing me to the other man we saw, letting him see us at play. But I try to block out all other surroundings to focus on the task at hand.

Gentle licks turn to sliding my mouth up and down. My enjoyment in worshiping your cock allows me to relax. I start to suck harder, move faster, moan a little at the pleasure of pleasing you. You grip my hair and lean forward a little to speak low.

"Such a slut. Do you know you're humping the air right now? Anyone who peeked in would see you desperate for a fuck just from sucking my cock." Your words only make me dedicate myself to my task. My off hand itches to touch myself, but I won't stop my worship to ask you. You growl. "Up."

Grudgingly, I let your cock slide out from between my now-chafed lips and stand. I am panting a little from exertion, and, before I can catch my breath, you grab me by the throat firmly and pull me around to the back of the bench. With no preamble you bend me forward, push my panties to the side roughly, tearing them, and thrust your cock into me. I scream slightly from the depth and the shock, and your hand claps over my mouth.

"A little restraint, boi. We're in public."

I nod in understanding, and you let go, gripping my shoulder instead. But you don't make it easy for me for me to keep quiet. You are clearly in it for your pleasure, and a degree of speed. You slam in and out, pulling me onto you, hitting my cervix and bruising it a little more with every thrust. I whimper quietly, biting my lip rather than scream, and lean my weight into my hands as they rest on the seat of the bench. The force of your cock inside me is overwhelming. It feels wonderful, pressing me closer to orgasm, but it hurts too, and I know I will be aching and limping later.

Tears form in my eyes and I sob a little. But I don't stop fucking you back, rocking my hips into yours. You turn my head sideways so you can see me, and growl in pleasure at my tear streaked cheeks. You pull me partway upright and lick the tears off my cheek.

"My favorite treat."

I whimper and lean my hips back against yours, rolling my hips up and down so the underside of your cock rubs my g-spot with each thrust. One of your hands digs its fingers into my hip, the other into my throat as you fuck me even faster. Not crying out is a supreme effort, in pleasure, in pain. It has to be both, with you, and I love it. And so does my pussy, so wet now that I can feel my wetness trickling down my leg.

Suddenly you pull out.

"Kneel. Now, boi."

I get on my knees as fast as I can. I open my mouth in anticipation, but shut it when you say, "No, closed. No treat for you today." I look up into your eyes, smiling and breathing heavily, my cunt still aching for you, as you finish with a few quick strokes. Your cum lands on my face, my chest, my dress.

I smile. "Thank you Sir."

You breathe in and out slowly. "Clean me off." I gently lick your cock clean, trying not to overstimulate you.

"What will we do about you now, boi? Even I don't want to be seen with a bruised, cum covered slut like this. I do want to remember this though." You pull out your phone, take my chin in your hand and say, "Smile, my slut," as you take a few photos. You show me the results, and what I see makes me blush: me, kneeling in the mud, hair disheveled, lips red and parted like they want nothing more than to keep sucking you, cheeks streaked with tears, flushed. And over all of it, ribbons of your cum, marking your territory. I look down in shame, but my cunt throbs with unfulfilled need, and continues to soak what's left of my panties and my thighs.

"Take off your panties, slut, they're no good anymore anyway."

I stand and slide my ripped underwear off and hand them to you as I kneel back down. You wipe my face and chest with the wet, soiled cotton. I can smell both of us on my face now, and I can feel that you haven't done a very good job getting the cum off of me. My skin my not have obvious cum on it any more, but it is still sticky with both of us.

"Good enough. I want people who look closely to know you're my slut, just not EVERYBODY. Hold these." You hand me back my panties, and I realize with horror that I have neither a purse nor pockets, so I will have to hold them in my hand all the way to the car. I ball them up as tightly as I can. As we walk, you take my empty hand in yours.

"Thank you boi. That was a nice brunch. Shame we won't get to have a shower before we go see our friends."

"Uh... what do you mean, Sir?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you? You're not dressed up for brunch, we're going over for tea. Everyone will be there." I catch your grin out of the side of my eye, and as I blush red, you start to laugh. "Should be a good time!"