Derek Beth And The General

They haven't seen me yet.

When I woke up this morning, I never in a million years would have thought that my daily routine would be so drastically altered. I didn't think I would be here, obscured by low-hanging, thick, green foliage in the park, taking in a sight that I can only describe as startling, beautiful, and sexy as hell. It's been a very long while since anything exciting like this has happened to me. Man, I've missed it. I think my soul has sprung back to life.

************

I do come here quite frequently, along with my book, to get some peace and quiet on my lunch break. Several years ago I could have told my boss to take his job and shove it, but I didn't want to feel useless at home. Maybe Catherine in HR will make me a cake if I finally did retire? She did so for Jim last year, but I'm not sure that she likes me as much as him and his slippery fingers, if you get my meaning.

But this park, and my special bench, has been my almost daily escape, regardless of New York weather, for more than 18 years. Several years ago I would have gladly walked from my office to my bench, read a chapter or two, eaten my sandwich and taken an invigorating walk back once again to my desk. Lately, though, I don't walk nearly as fast as I used to and my energy levels are just not what they once were. I've become a bit of a shuffler. As such, at the suggestion of some of my younger colleagues, I've started taking this ingenious car service called The Uber?- It must be Swedish- and for a few dollars they pick me up from the building and drop me at the edge of the park to save some time. For a few dollars a day I'll take it. Time is more important than money now.

************

Today, Tony, my Uber driver drops me off at the place at the entrance to the park, on the most gorgeous late summer day, with the promise to pick me back up in 50 mins. I make my way down the sunlit cobblestone path, pass the familiar line of trees that I have seen grow in the many years I have been spending my lunches here. I take a left off the main path and walk a one-man dirt trek through dense thicket to my spot. My bench; my oasis and daily quiet. I gladly take a seat on my bench and make sure to prop my small pillow behind my back; sciatica. My bench, one of those dedication numbers- a rich family, no doubt, paying homage to their dog; what kind of name is Snowball, anyway?- is snug up against the trunk of a large tree and is made of hardwood slats. The arms and legs of the bench are an intricate swirling black iron design. Because it is summer, the branches of the tree and surrounding hedges are thick, lush and green. I cannot see or hear much from the main path. It feels like I am enveloped by the arms of Mother Nature.

As I take in the smells and sites of my little spot, I eat my sandwich- I think it might by bologna, but it's hard to tell what my wife has packed today. It doesn't really matter. She tries. I just do what I'm told.

I settle into my book, a crime novel, and quickly become absorbed in the pages. I've also made sure to set my watch alarm if, by some strange chance of fate, I doze off. I'm not saying it happens every day... Okay, it happens every day. I'd hate to be late for Tony to pick me up.

*************

I hear rustling in the hedge and ignore it; probably a squirrel. The sound moves along the hedge and has now caught my full attention. That sounds a lot bigger than a squirrel. I'm annoyed and refuse to investigate. If something wants to come and get me, I'm not going to make it easy but I also am not going to give it a reason to try!

I hear a male voice say "Oof!" and right after that a female giggle... They both shush each other but the quiet giggling continues. My heart beat slows down a little. Bunch of punks. Don't they know that an old man needs his peace? They don't because they haven't seen me yet. The hedge directly in front of me hides my presence. I decide to go back to my book.

*************

Slurp. A moan. Kisses? Yes, kisses. What the hell? They have my attention again. I hear the man keep his voice steady, even and low and say:

"Are you sure you want to do this? Are you sure you want to do this here?"

"Yes, Derek, " she says, " I want to do this here. Now. There's no one around. It's one more SBL that we can strike off the list".

SBL? What the hell? What is happening here? I hear a sharp intake of breath and more kissing. Another low moan. I hear her say, "I didn't bother wearing any. I thought that would make things easier." There's a smile in her voice.

More leaves rustle and I hear his voice coming from a lower angle. "Mmmmm. Perfect... Just bring your knee over my shou...Yeah, like that".

How on earth can a man become a Little Person in the space of 5 seconds? Maybe he's bent over to tie his shoe? Maybe he's tying her shoe? If so, what a gentleman. Chivalry is a dying art.

I hear another sharp intake of breath, louder this time, "Oh, Goddddddd" is coming from her.

His slightly muffled voice filters out, "Do you like that? Tell me how much you like it. Maybe I should wait and let you calm down before I do it again. In the meantime, how do you like...this".

A moan, a squeak, deep breathing from her... "Keep going, Derek." Is she whimpering? "That's what I want". It sounds like the poor thing can't get enough air.

Okay, whoa! Hold it right there. I think I've just been struck by proverbial lightening. I may be old, but I'm not that old. I can remember a time or two that I took part in making these types of noises, too. In fact, a pleasant memory tries to surface. Not now, Memory! I've got bigger fish to fry. Do I make noise and scare them off? They don't sound like they're too far into things yet... I smirk at my own pun.

"Derek, it's my turn!" Her voice breaks my reverie. "Here, give me your jacket so I can be more comfortable down here". He seems to protest a little, so she continues with what sounds like a saucy smile, "My darling, I'm not wearing pants as you can plainly see... I plan to be down here a while and I'd hate to have to explain bruised knees to your wife when I see her at the next PTA meeting".

He chuckles softly and seems to relent. She must be getting straight to work because all I can hear are slurping suck sounds and his low moaning. I bet she's a redhead. I remember a redhead or two who had saucy smiles. The corners of my mouth turn up in a cheeky smirk. When I realize what my mouth is doing, I push the corners back down into my normal frown. What the hell am I going to do now?

*************

They're saying something back and forth to each other, but I can't quite hear it now. Somewhere far off a lawnmower has started up. What are they saying??? Maybe if I get a little closer I can hear better and then decide what to do.

I ease up off of my bench and make my way slowly towards the hedge. I try not to make any noise. Every step I take brings the slurping/sucking/moaning into sharper focus. I get all the way to the hedge and put my right ear up to it. Yup, I'm hearing them pretty good now. Maybe if I put my left ear, the good one, up to the hedge, I'll pick up even more. I quickly swing my head to do so and freeze.

In front of my eyes is the tableau I've been listening to for the last eight minutes. Derek, a tall, slim, dark-haired fella in his mid-late thirties, is leaning squarely against the tree. His head is resting against it. His eyes are closed. His jaw is clenched. His nostrils are flared. Every few seconds, air whistles between his teeth likes he's trying to keep his breathing steady and even. He can't hold back the moans, though. He has wide shoulders, and my eyes travel down his fit chest to his muscled arms, to the tattoos that make up ¾ sleeves. They look bright, beautiful and masculine under the short sleeves of his black t-shirt. As my eyes travel to his hands, I completely understand the moaning. His fingers are caught up in the thickest red hair I have ever seen. Red's on her knees in front of Derek. Going. To. Town. She is gobbling his cock like an ice cream cone on a hot sunny day, head bobbing like a dashboard toy. She turns her face to the side, sucking/licking his shaft and I can see saliva, and some other questionable forms of human fluid, running down her chin and spread over her cheeks. She's playing his penis like a harmonica, stopping only to move back to the head and suck like a Hoover, brand new out of the box. She's back to the harmonica move and he's loving it. And suddenly so am I.

I slowly look down, not believing what I'm now experiencing: The General, for the first time in a very long time, is starting his salute.

Derek speaks. "Beth,..." he croaks, "Hum me a tune". Beth. I watch in fascination as she takes her mouth off of his cock and looks up at him. She's grinning.

"With pleasure."

She pulls his pants and boxers down to his knees. Beth slowly wraps her mouth around the head of his cock and her two hands (two!) around the shaft. She keeps going, her mouth taking over where the hands are until her lips are up against his abdomen. She reaches around to his backside and he arches forward away from the tree to give her access. Beth aggressively massages his ass and I watch her dig her fingers into the muscles. He starts to pant and grips her hair harder. She starts humming...America the Brave?? I quickly swallow a guffaw. As she hums he starts to move, fucking her face with each note. She gags and saliva streams from her mouth, but she doesn't let up.

I look down and the General is miraculously standing at full attention. My hand moves down to rub the protruding head through my khaki trousers.

Beth has finished stanza one and is now onto stanza two. My blood pressure goes up as I see her unlatch her mouth from Derek's cock and give some personal attention to his ball sack. To get into proper nut-vibrating position, she has spread her knees wider, and has arched her back to twist he torso up so that her mouth can continue its exquisite torture. I feel like I'm going to suddenly pass out- I seemed to have forgotten how to breathe. My eyes are about to pop out of their sockets and the General starts to throb in earnest. Beth's repositioning has hiked up her already criminally short skirt and now I understand what she meant earlier by "Not bothering to wear any". Her smooth, round, luscious, white ass, more than two handfuls per cheek, is now in full view. The sunlight, streaming through the tree tops above, is highlighting the curves. Her pussy, hairless, bright pink, swollen and glistening, is ready and wide open.

The General is suddenly in command. I need to relieve some of the pressure. I slowly move my hand to my fly and without a sound let him out into the sunlight. I start stroking my own cock in time to the moaning of Derek and the humming of Beth. All the while, her pussy is a beacon for my eyes. I so badly want to shove my throbbing cock into her hot, wet hole. I want to lick up her juices and really show her who is Daddy.

*************

Derek grabs Beth's hair with a growl, pulling her off of his ball sack. He pulls her up by her hair forcing her to her feet. That must have hurt, but she doesn't protest or seem to mind. In fact, she has a self-satisfied smile on her spit/cum-soaked face. Derek tosses her up against the trunk of the tree he had been occupying up until this point. He parts her legs with his knees and rams his sizable penis into her hot, tight, slippery pussy. He sets his pace immediately to hard and fast.

She gasps out a "Yesssss" and bites her lower lip to keep from making more sounds.

He fucks her as if the world is coming to an end. He holds her fast against the tree and she grips his shoulders to keep her balance. Beth pants and cries out again, giving up the attempt to stay quiet, immensely enjoying every second. Derek heaves her up further so that she can wrap both legs around his waist. He then reaches one hand up the front of Beth's cartoon t-shirt. I catch sight of one erect pink nipple as Derek grabs and aggressively squeezes a small, pointed breast, never breaking stride. I'm secretly impressed with his technique.

The General and I are also having a bit of fun. My stroke has quickened, imagining that I'm giving Beth exactly what she is begging for. I picture her wrapped around my cock, her ecstasy cries meant only for me; her breasts bobbing in a fast rhythm to a good, sound, fuck that she needs and that I deserve.

And as if she's reading my mind, Beth does begin to beg. She begs for Derek to take her harder, faster, and although it seems impossible he could do more he obliges. Beth's eyes start rolling into the back of her head; her panting becomes louder and louder, her breath shorter and shorter. Derek, too, is showing signs of nearing the end. His grunting matches her panting in volume and frequency.

The three of us race to the end. Beth cums first, her head thrown back and her cries of ecstasy echoing around the park. Next is Derek, the pulsing of Beth's vaginal muscles must have finally sent him over the edge. He groans loudly and, spent, sags into Beth's still-exposed breasts, his boxers and pants now around his ankles. She wraps her arms around him and they stand against that tree completely sated, their breathing still heavy, their bodies trembling and sweaty. They laugh suddenly and kiss passionately, appreciative of each other's efforts.

I also finally cum. I have envisioned Beth's vaginal muscles milking my cock and her breasts heaving against my body with every stroke and that, too, has sent me over the edge. A hot stream of cum shoots from my cock and into the hedge. I proudly see that I've ejaculated much more than normal. If I'm honest, it has been a while since I've had my pipes cleaned.

*************

I continue to watch as Derek and Beth recover, trying to stay as quiet as I can in my own recovery. I wipe the sweat off of my forehead. Beth looks deep into Derek's eyes and says with swollen lips,

"Well, I think we can knock the Park Fuck off our Sexual Bucket List." Oh, right. SBL. Sexual Bucket List. "And", she continues, "I have a feeling that we can also knock off being watched while having sex."

I die. I tuck the General back into my pants and hightail it out of my special reading spot. I haven't run that fast since track practice during my senior year of high school. I hear the laughter of Derek and Beth slowly fade the further away from them I get. I also hear the alarm on my watch sound. Tony!

*************

I'm still running, as only an old man can, but I spot Tony and my Uber ride and wildly wave as if I'm seeing a watering hole in the desert. Tony greets me as I fall into the back seat, absolutely exhausted. He's alarmed at my lack of response and my lack of ability to catch my breath. I open my exhausted eyes, I see the concern etched on his young face and I burst out laughing. My hair is wild, shirt is still untucked; my pants are still unzipped. I can only imagine what I must look like, but I cannot stop. I laugh until tears start streaming down my old, wrinkled face.

"Tony', says I, "you worry too much!" He smiles back, relieved I'm not dying in his car.

"Where to, Mr. B?"

"Tony", I say, decision suddenly made, "take me back to the office. I'm retiring as of right now! I'm going to pack up my desk, tell my boss to shove it, go home, and fuck my wife. In that order!"

Tony looks at me like I've grown three heads. He considers his options and shrugs. "Okay. Cool!"