*** Disclaimer ***
The following story is a work of fiction. It contains themes of cheating, cuckoldry, voyeurism, exhibitionism and NTR.
This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are at least 18 years of age. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
***
ALLURE OF THE BAD BOY
***
"Looks like we have the place to ourselves," Andrea declared with a wicked little smile.
That remark alone was enough to make the front of Jarred's pants grow taught as he pulled into the gravel lot and parked the car. He swallowed, nervously knowing what Andrea had in mind already.
Lately Andrea had been growing more emboldened and adventurous with her sexuality, dabbling in exciting new things. But this... this might be a bit much, even for him. At least the playground was deserted. It was a weekday, and a rather overcast one at that. Even though the humid air was warm, he doubted there'd be anyone else out and about. But still, it made him nervous. How far was Andrea willing to take this? Every day, it seemed like she was getting more reckless.
He glanced across the seat and saw her nibbling on the tip of her fingernail. Her expression filled with nervous energy. She was also trying to wrap her head around it.
Andrea had never been an especially emboldened girl. Jarred had met her in their freshman year in high school. They'd been matched up in chemistry class as partners. It seemed like a perfect fit. They were both unpopular outcasts, soft spoken and shy, distrusting of other students, and very intelligent. They'd bonded over shared interests in video games, superhero movies, and obscure comic books. And neither one had any concept of style. Jarred's mom picked out his clothes, and Andrea wore hand-me-downs from her older sister. She especially favored big baggy hoodies. As their relationship grew, Jarred soon discovered why...
Andrea was stacked! She had always been self-conscious of her body, but as they grew older, Andrea became more and more aware that her body wasn't something to be hidden. At least not from her boyfriend.
Now that they were attending their first year of community college together, at the ambitious age of 18, free of the assholes and dimwits who soured their high school experience, Andrea had begun to blossom. People were nicer in college, less critical, and less likely to hurl insults or obscenities for a cheap laugh from their peers. And as such, Andrea began to dress... flashier.
Right now, Jarred's eyes wandered over her body, and his feelings of nervousness were momentarily overtaken by lust. She wiggled her legs together, like she was trying to warm herself. And maybe she was. Her black miniskirt stopped just above her mid-thighs. Not pleated, but the kind with sexy buttons up one side, if she spread her legs, Jarred knew that skirt would bunch into nothing. She was wearing panties, although Jarred wondered how long that might last. And complimenting that skirt, she had dawned a pair of knee-high brown boots. The kind that weren't meant for hiking...
Rounding out the look was a skin-tight beige top, almost flesh toned and matching her naturally tanned complexion. It was buttoned in the front, and Jarred could almost hear the buttons screaming as they fought to restrain the stretchy material. Beneath that top, Andrea was boasting a pair of tits that exceeded the expectations of most men. At 36FF, it was easy to see why Andrea had been self-conscious in high school. Her breasts earned the glances from the boys, and the scorn from the girls. It was attention that she could do without, especially because Andrea often thought her tits made her look fat. She had a little bit of a tummy, sure, thicker thighs, and a butt to match, but none of it was unappealing.
In fact, Jarred found her curves down-right sexy. They matched her round heart-shaped face. Her long curly brown hair, parted in the middle, helped accentuate that heart-shape. And her full lips, and big brown eyes sold it all.
How this girl had made it through high school without having half the student body vying for her attention was lost on him. Somehow she'd stayed off their radar completely. But their loss was Jarred's gain.
He ran his hand over one her bare thighs. It was smooth and warm. He gave it a squeeze. "You up for this?" He asked.
Her brow pinched together in a look of brief apprehension. Then it departed like a vanishing fog. She nodded, and that mischievous smile grazed her lips once again. She nodded slowly.
"Okay..." Jarred said, and stepped out of the car. His skinny legs trembled beneath his jeans. He adjusted the camera strap around his neck. His reason for bringing it was for alibi purposes-- should anyone cast a questioning glance at the pair of lovers, Jarred figured he could play it off as an amateur photographer and his model. He was aware he'd put too much thought into an excuse, but it comforted him.
Andrea liked it for different reasons...
"Should we get the blankets out of the back?" She asked, stepping up behind him and whispering wetly in his ear. She was teasing him already, and when she pressed her full heavy breasts against the back of his shoulder, the tightness once again returned to the crotch of his pants. The blood racing down to his cock.
He shook his head and swallowed. "L-lets scout around first. Make sure we're alone."
The park stood on the outskirts of town and wasn't wildly popular. A playground with swings, a sliding board, and jungle gym greeted them near the parking lot.
Andrea eyed the low plastic castle-like structure with a thoughtful glint in her eye.
"Too close to the parking lot," Jarred whispered, and sagged with relief when Andrea didn't pester him further about that one. She would, in due time, Jarred knew. And when she found a good spot, there'd be no talking her out of it. She was insistent when an idea came to her.
Past the parking lot was a deserted basketball court. Weeds were sprouting from the cracks in the pavement. Beyond, a cinderblock bathroom. Jarred eyed it.
"Ew," Andrea said at once.
"The doors lock. Nobody is going to question--" he began.
"No way. That's disgusting," she wrinkled her nose cutely.
"Okay, okay." They moved on. Beyond the bathroom, a walking and bike path ran the perimeter of the park, past open meadows and through groves of trees. That might be their best bet...
"Check it out," Andrea remarked, and dashed playfully toward the picnic pavilion. A covered slab of concrete with benches and a rusting charcoal grill sat in the shadow beneath. She hopped adventurously up onto a table top and sashayed her hips.
"Drea, it's wide open. Anyone can see," Jarred glanced up nervously at her. But from this angle, he had quite the view up her skirt. Her panties were blue and velvety.
She plopped down on the table, planted her butt on the edge, and spread her legs. Her skirt inched up and up. "Maybe I want them to see," she teased him. "Ever think of that?"
The crotch of her panties came into view, and she swung her legs slowly back and forth. It was hard not to look. She leaned forward, rested her hands on the edge of the table, and gave her tits a little shake.
It was the sort of behavior that Andrea would be much too bashful to exhibit if someone was around. A lifetime of shyness and self-restraint had begun to fracture with their new adult freedom, and now her sexuality was oozing out. Exploring these previously uncharted horizons was so new and exciting and liberating, that Andrea couldn't bring herself to stop flirting with it.
She seemed to enjoy Jarred's conflict of emotions. She leaned back and braced herself on her arms. She thrust her chest out, and let one boot roam up to Jarred's crotch. She nuzzled his penis with the tip of her toe. "Got your camera ready there, Mr. Photographer?"
Jarred stammered for a second, then remembered. "Oh, uh yeah. Okay, maybe just a few here..." he said, glancing around to triple check that they were alone.
"Better hurry," she teased, biting her lip and throwing her long curly hair back over her shoulders. "You never know who might show up and get a show."
Jarred knew she was bluffing. She'd be just as embarrassed as he, if someone happened to catch them. He brought the camera up anyway. It was an old Nikon, before the days of digital. He'd restored it as a hobby in junior high.
Andrea teased the flap of her skirt up and down in front of her pussy, like she was fanning herself.
Jarred snapped a picture.
She crawled up onto the table, and knelt on all fours, her back arched like a cat, and she tossed her head back and stared sexily at the camera.
Jarred snapped another picture. His cock was hardening, like a turtle unsure if it should come out of its shell. His heart was pounding, and his legs had a small tremble to them. The park was set back from the road, but anyone at any point could pull into the lot and discover what they were doing.
Andrea slid off the table, bent over it, and hiked up her skirt. Her underwear was a thong. She'd only just started wearing those recently, having to acclimate to the wedgie. She peered over her shoulder at the camera.
Jarred resisted the urge to get behind her and take her. Bent over was the easiest, most accessible way of fucking during risky situations. Last week, Andrea had talked Jarred into heart-pounding sex in her kitchen while her older sister and mother were home, watching a movie just out of sight in the living room. Jarred had fought to keep his erection, his anxiety through the roof, as he struggled to stifle his moans.
He snapped more photos. Andrea sauntered around the table and bent forward over it, facing the camera, and smiling her youthful pleasant smile. From this angle, Jarred had a wonderful view down the front of her shirt. Her massive breasts squeezed tightly together in the confines of her shirt.
"Bet you can't wait to play with these," she teased and shook herself until they jiggled.