I followed him through the dimly lit house. The sun hadn't completly gone down yet. Summer days were still long. And warm.
I was happy when we exited to the backyard. The cooler evening air caressed my skin. Which was more exposed than covered; in a super short skirt, a halter top that tied around the neck making the back nearly unnecessary, and barely there at all.
There is a pile of blankets on the lawn. Not a jumbled pile. They are laid out ontop of each other, a thin mattress. I stop short beside the pile, looking at the man beside me. My eyes telegram the "What's going on?" question to him.
He shrugs with a lazy grin.
I turn a full circle around the yard. It's dim. But I can hear voices, not for the neighbours, but neighbours of neighbours. My voice is high pitched. "Out here?"
He pulls me down to sit on the blankets. Suddenly relaxed, I lay back and look at the sky turning for day to dark, the magical time of dusk. A darkening purple hue paints the view above me, as the first stars twinkle out some light.
I sigh, feeling happy and contented with the day. And he starts pulling up my skirt.
My body tenses. Not that I mean to. It's just a natural reaction to the threat of exposure. Although we have privacy. No one is watching, no one is listening. But they could be. My hands try to push his away and then we both still.
He leans over me, his eyes boring into mine. Staring me down. "Here's the deal," he says, his gaze steady. My hands are shaking.
He clears his throat. His eyes still hold mine, and I grab onto the look, like I would a lifeline, letting him ease my anxieties. "No one will know what we are doing out here if you can be quiet."
"And if I can't?"
His eyes turn from serious to amusment. "That's part of the fun isn't it?"
He grabs my wrists in one hand, so I can no longer hinder him, and he pulls my skirt up. With one hand he removes my panties.
I lay there. Thinking about this idea. Fuck, it's making me wet. I can feel it between my legs, I want to rub them together. But he's holding me open.
The cool air rushes in between my thighs. Soothing the heat there.
"My goal here is to make you scream," he says, letting go of my hands. Instead of pushing him away, I put my hands on his head, letting his soft hair slip through my fingers.
And then, gloriously, he is kissing me. Kissing the most feminine part of my body. His lips are hotter, somehow, than my pussy lips. Softer, sweeter.
I let out a soft sigh. Then clamp my lips together, remembering where I am, that I must be quiet.
And then his tongue threatens to send me up in flames. My whole body is tense as he licks at the center of my being.
Slowly, by each flick of his tongue, then his fingers pushing into my body. A welcome intrusion. My hips lift and thrust. He pushes me down.
I can't stay still. I am coming undone. My breathing is shallow. Rapid and hitched. As I try to get closer.
It's like a burst of light behind my eyes when I come. I am aware that I am voicing my pleasure. Not shouting or screaming, but I am not quiet when I come. I try to stop, but his tongue and fingers are pushing me forward, onward, stretching out the pleasure snapping in my pussy, shooting out into my body.
It goes on and on, like those sparklers are inside my body. I become aware that he is longer touching me, and the snapping nerves slow. And then they stop all together.
My breathing is still shallow, as he grins at me, the white teeth glowing in the near dark. "I think you lost," the shadow of his body says, seeming ethereal, disembodied.
"Pretty sure someone heard that one. But, it was worth it."
He laughs, his body falling over mine, pushing me back onto the blanket, his lips falling over mine. We laugh together.