Maybe if I'm good ....

He was standing by the wall one moment laughing. The next he had reached out and grabbed me and pressed me against the same spot. It was still warm from where he had touched. Perhaps I just imagined that part.

His lips were rough and demanding over mine. His body formed a cage around me. His hands by my shoulders. His hips pressing into mine. His stance widened, his legs framed mine.

As if he would stop me if I moved. As if I would try to get away from his kiss, as rough as it was.

I wouldn't dare pull away. He knew it as well as I. He held me for a different reason, I realized as his hands slide down my body and lifted my short skirt. I might have protested but his tongue swirling in my mouth left me distracted.

My panties went down my legs. He let them drop to the ground. And then the kiss slowed. His body removed. I lifted my hand and wiped my mouth with my fingers. My gaze softened and I could barely focus on him as he grinned at me.

I bent, trying to be ladylike, and pulled the elastic lace around my shoes. Standing, I held them on one finger, an offering. "You wanted them," I said, when he didn't move. His eyes crinkled in the corners as he grinned at me. I watched his arm raise, his fingers spread then collapse around the thin material. My eyes refocused by the time he was stuffing it into his pocket.

Wrapping his arm around me, he turned us toward the pathway through the park. I wondered if anyone had stopped to watch the show we'd been putting on, but no one seemed to be staring. "Where to?" I asked.

"I thought we'd find some place where I could fuck you."

Well then.

We walked on. He dropped his hand from my shoulder to my waist, caressing the bare skin that showed with each sway of my hips.

Over a small bridge and then down beside it. He pushed me against one of the cement pillars. It was cold on my bare skin. I shivered from the anticipation.

Then I recalled that we were in public. I looked frantically as far left and right as I could. There wasn't much to be seen, a few feet of walking paths which were fairly empty. But, I was certain someone would see us. I wanted to protest and opened my mouth to do so.

Only to be cut off with another rough kiss. He pulled away and placed a finger against my lips. "Don't even think about arguing." With one hand he pressed it between my thighs. I was dripping wet. "Slut," he added as an afterthought. "Say one word and I won't touch you here again today." He pressed his finger deep inside my body and then pulled it out slowly.

I nodded. He smiled and kissed me softly this time. His fingers started pulling up my skirt. I closed my eyes and rested against the cement pillar. I heard his belt buckle clatter and the soft thud of his pants falling. "Up on your toes," he murmured into my ear as he pressed his body back into mine. I stretched as high as I could and he bent his legs a little. I bit my lip to keep from moaning. His hand between my legs guided his hard cock. And then my pussy was full of him.

"So wet little slut," he muttered and then began fucking me in earnest. I opened my eyes and looked around. The sensations of the cool cement and his hot skin against mine, and the excitement of fucking in secret began to work it's magic on my pussy. And then it was over.

My body was left cold by his absence, but still humming with unfulfilled promises. I let go of my lip and pulled my skirt down watching him refasten his pants.

Maybe if I was a good girl I'd get an orgasm later, I decided with a sigh as I followed him back to the path.

Author's note: I can see that it is the situation that turns me on more than the actual sex. Once there's penetration I lose interest.

Can you keep quiet?

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.

Part One

She came out in a short black shirt. She hardly ever wore a skirt. Her bare legs glowed in the soft light from the window. He smiled, looking her over with hungry eyes. In one moment he imagined several erotic scenes. Kissing her, sliding his hand up her inner thigh, finding her without panties and wet. Bending her over a chair, a desk, a table; pulling the skirt up and taking her hard and fast from behind. Against the wall, he'd lift her, his pants around his ankles.

He let his breath out. The hot air, leaving his lungs. Then he gasped a few breathes in. He'd been so wrapped up in his appreciation that he'd forgotten to breath.

Without a word, he moved his body into hers. His hand caressed her neck, while his mouth possessed hers. His tongue swirled around her mouth- tasting, taking, holding her. His hands came around her breasts, moulding them. he felt her nipples go hard against the fabric of her shirt, while she tried to pull away from his kiss.

The blood pounded in his ears. Reluctant, he let go of her.

"Slow down," she said. "It's early and we are late."

"That's not my fault," he said, kissing her bare shoulder. He took another step back and took in her shirt for the first time. It was white and thin, low in the front. The back was a scrap of fabric wrapped around her waist. It tied around her neck. But his main concern was that the shirt was transparent. And she wasn't wearing a bra.

"Go put the black on one," he said. "You are not going out like that." She opened her mouth to protest. He waved his hand. "We could stay in if you prefer." There was a glint in his eyes, as he played out several more scenes in his mind. This time involving her being bent over, the skirt around her waist and him holding a cane or a whip. He waited for her to move ...