Allison and I had our routine down, smooth as silk. There is a creek that winds through the city and into the suburbs where we live, with parkland all along it. On one side of the creek is a two-lane road and a jogging path, with benches along the way, playgrounds here and there, the good people of the town go there to jog and let their children play, sometimes they have picnics and birthday parties, all very sunny and wholesome. On the other side of the creeks the woods are thick, hardwood trees and pines, with deer and snakes and coyotes and raccoons, and the undergrowth is pretty much impenetrable. But Allison and I had found a way across the creek that involved one little hop and a step on a slippery log, and a short deer-path led to a gap in a circle of thickets with a beautiful grassy clearing in the middle, invisible from any side. A private little patch of paradise. Our magic circle.
I kept an old sheet in the back of my car. Allison would tell her husband she was going shopping or to the bank or something, and we would meet at the park for an hour or so of wildness. She was a classic frustrated housewife, early thirties, bored with her marriage, her head swarming with fantasies and desires, and it was my good luck to have been in the right place at the right time to make those fantasies come true for her. My own fantasies were exceeded in the meantime. We usually managed to meet two or three times a week in our magic circle near the creek, besides other adventures in parking-lots and playgrounds; this had been going on for nearly a year.
We had a way of communicating through the comments on an old post of a blog that nobody read any more. One would leave a draft message and the other would read it and write over it. In this way we could say, "Wednesday 10 ok for you?" "Yes." "See you there." and nobody knew. Even if someone saw the comments, they didn't mean anything, and they couldn't be tied to us unless the FBI or somebody was analyzing IP numbers. And why would they?
So this particular Wednesday I got to our magic circle a few minutes early and spread the sheet on the ground. It was a warm spring morning, birds were singing, the trees were luxurious with thick young foliage. And sure enough, ten o'clock, I heard footsteps coming through the woods.
"There you are," she said.
"And there you are," I replied. "Looking good enough to eat." She was wearing a new orange sundress, and I knew there would be nothing under it. Lots of skin showing, her tasty throat and arms and legs up to here and cleavage that would knock you down. Allison was a small woman with medium-large knockers that swung inside her cotton dress in the most delectable way, when she let them. She liked to put on a little show when she came to see me. At other times she presented herself in a more put-together way, that suburban housewife thing -- she was good at it, with the ironclad bras and frumpy dresses down to her knees. I was the only one who knew both sides of her. I think.
"Well I don't want to discourage you," she said. She crouched on the sheet beside me and leaned down to kiss me. It was a hungry kiss, and while she was bent over I reached up to pull on the bow at the back of her neck. Boom, like magic the dress opened in the back and then somehow unwrapped from her body altogether, falling in a loose wad on the sheet.
"Wow, that's a nice dress," I said. "Easy to get off you."
"I thought you might like that," she said. "I bought three of them, different colors, they were eight ninety-nine on sale." I never understood why women have to tell you what their clothes cost, and did not follow up on that conversationally. Instead, I pulled her down next to me and rolled over to ram my tongue down her throat while my hand came up to knead a firm, voluminous breast. I pinched her nipple while we made out, and her hands began wandering over my body.
I got my fingers on her pussy and she let her legs fall apart, lying on her back naked in the dappled sunshine, giving me the opportunity to run my fingertips over her vagina and up between her labia, stroking her pussy as it grew wet. When her breathing had evolved to panting I pressed on her clitoris with my fingertip and within seconds she reflexively flung her upper body upright with a grunt and began shaking. She fell back, moaning and twitching, while I squeezed and rubbed her clitoris, and then she started laughing as the orgasm subsided.
"You're not fooling around, are you?" she giggled. "Oh my god, I needed that."
She sat up and whipped my t-shirt and jeans off me in half a minute. I was hard by the time she liberated my cock, and she dove on it, taking it deep into her throat. She slurped on it for a minute, then said, "I know what I want. Lay down."
I lay back, with some idea what she had in mind, and I was right. She sat on my chest and then moved forward until her pussy was over my mouth. She slowly lowered her labia toward my tongue, which was cooperating by flicking skyward, searching for her in the morning air. She let the tip of my tongue tease her for a while, shifting forward and back, very gradually lowering and positioning herself until I was sucking her clitoris directly. I wrapped my lips around it and licked it inside my mouth, and another orgasm hit her. She humped my face, holding the sides of my head for support, fucking my mouth violently.
"Oh, woops, we better go back," someone said, and Allison jumped off me. The voice was very near. Allison had a hand trying to cover those big tits and failing, as her head swiveled to look at a group of people who had filed into our secret clearing.
There were about eight or ten of them. I interpreted them to be a college class of some sort, on a field trip. One nerdy looking guy in an Indiana Jones hat carried a walking stick and seemed to be in charge.
"We're sorry," he said. "We didn't think there was anyone here." Turning to the group, "Come on, let's go."
Nobody moved. They seemed frozen with surprise. And curiosity, having stumbled upon a big-titted hottie sitting on the face of a guy whose explosively stiff dick was pointing eagerly at the heavens. They stood there staring at us.
The group leader spoke again. "Come on, this isn't part of the lesson, let's leave these people alone."
A slender brunette in khaki shorts and a tight t-shirt gave a little laugh and said, "This is definitely the most interesting thing we've seen today. Don't you think so?" She and the others looked at us as if we were some sort of specimen.
"No, I don't," the nerdy group leader said, and nobody believed him. None of them turned to leave.
Allison changed the course of the discussion. "We hadn't really expected company," she said suddenly. "But if you all want to watch, it's okay with me. And you, honey?" She doesn't call me honey but I think she was trying not to give away my name. Also probably trying to imply that we were married. Like, to each other.
I had always thought of Allison as a tease and a show-off, though she denied it. She was the queen of the double-entendre and I had seen her leave many a man speechless after a comment that might have been serious, might have been a joke. She always played it straight though, insisting afterwards that she hadn't meant whatever they thought they heard. What I'm saying is, I knew she had a little bit of the exhibitionist in her, but she kept it mostly suppressed, except for the occasional teasing word posed as an innocent statement. I had never seen her quite so obviously caught before, though, bare-ass naked, riding a man's face with an audience.
"It's okay with me," I said. While I was speaking Allison reached down and took my penis in her hand and began stroking it.
