I saw her by chance from a distance. We had broken up some time ago. Our love affair (do people still use that term?) had lasted only a short time. Our wicks burned brightly and furiously until we parted ways with passions still fiery but our futures very much different.
Her eyes were deep and brown behind dark curls. She began to speak but I held a finger to my lips in the 'silence' gesture like that used in elementary school. Her lips were parted—full, moist and delicious the way I remembered. They needed kissing.
It had always been her fantasy to be taken without words by a stranger. Passion, after all, speaks so much more loudly than words. I approached. She was wearing a black top, form-fitting, showing ample cleavage. Her bra line barely showed beneath the soft fabric. She was always sexy—in anything—but didn't need to dress like a tramp. God—I loved the way she dressed. Below her dark hair, those big brown eyes, those full moist lips, the full breasts, the curve of her waist snaking out to her full hips, I saw the contrasting gray, two-tone skirt and knew that there were thong panties beneath with a triangle covering her trimmed pussy hair and a slice of heaven bisecting those luscious ass cheeks. A full cheek for each hand!
We were outside in late spring in the back of a large parking area—way back where few parked and those that ventured this far had to cross a pedestrian bridge across a gurgling creek. A full canopy of trees was overhead and dappled early-evening sunshine cast a few rays upon her. I was a lucky man.
I was wearing a white Henley, unbuttoned, chest hair peeking over, blue jeans—tight (a bulge obviously from the sight of her) and a mischievous grin. My lips were moist—my eyes bearing down on her—I knew we were alone but out in the open with the risk of being seen ... being caught.
She remained silent as I closed the gap between us. We were on the concrete bridge with the two iron hand rails less than four feet one from the other. My right hand cupped her waist as my left gripped her neck through her soft curls and I brought her mouth to meet my own. Our tongues explored and I hungrily tasted her wetness. Her lips were just as I remembered and I nipped at them and sucked the lower into my mouth. I remembered her southern accent as she would tease with words like 'o-kay' and 'yellow' sounding like 'o-ki' and 'yall-o' softly, over and over whenever I playfully asked.
The kiss was long and our hands rubbed on muscle and curves and pulled at hair and clothes. I reached around and snapped her bra loose and pulled her top up to reveal the roundness of her breasts—such wonderful firm breasts. I felt her hand grab my ass firmly, she loved a hard ass knowing it thrusts deep and hard.
