I'm at the park, lying on a picnic blanket in the late afternoon sun. I close my eyes against the brightness and relax, sinking into the warm earth. I fall asleep.
When I wake, the sky is dark and the park is quiet. All I can hear is the sound of myself breathing erratically. I feel dizzy... and horny. I feel my nipples tighten and tingle, realizing a few moments later that something's touching them.
I flinch.
Shhhhh, you say. I look down to see your hands on each of my breasts, pinching and palming and pulling my taut nipples through the thin cotton of my tanktop. My panting rings in my ears and I feel embarrassed, but I calm a bit at your command.
I look for your face in the dark. You're kneeling beside me on the blanket while you grope me, your face above mine, completely unfamiliar. A thrill runs through me wondering if your cock is out, but I refuse to look.
You smile at me in the moonlight while continuing your assault, pushing your hands beneath my shirt to touch my bare skin. A whimper slides past my lips, and you coo at me, so I whimper again, begging for more praise, even the tiniest sign of approval.
You shove the straps of my tanktop down my arms and yank my shirt down beneath my breasts, exposing me to the cool night air. I writhe on the blanket.
Slap! You strike your palm down on my stiff nipple, more startling than painful.
"Be still, let me touch you," you say gruffly. It's difficult, but I try to be still. In response to my concentrated efforts, you groan and crash your mouth onto mine. I blink in surprise, then find rhythm with your tongue and melt beneath you, letting your tongue probe mine. Your teeth sting sharp, biting my sensitized swollen lip. I moan into your mouth.
"Good girl," you coo again. My mouth waters. My thoughts are incoherent, still half groggy with sleep, the other half lost to pleasure, where I can't think straight enough to be rational or question if I should let you have your way with me. I just let you. Fleetingly, I wonder if you'll put something else in my mouth, but I don't ask for it. I want you to take whatever pleases you, because I'll enjoy that so much more than anything I could ask for.
While you kiss me, I feel the absence of touch on my chest, and I want to pout, protest. Before I can, you find the waistband of my shorts and shove your hand into them. I gasp, my legs opening reflexively. Your fingers find my clit and start to rub, over my panties, causing me to see stars. I can feel how soaked I am, feel my panties sticking to me and the squelching as you rub. I writhe again, trying to increase the pressure. You remove your hand, leaving me panting, looking at you wild-eyed, needing more.
"I said be still, sweetheart."
You sit up and move, your hands at the waist of my shorts again, and I know what's coming. You yank, hard, once, and my shorts are gone in an instant. I realize too late, when you spread my legs in front of you, that my panties are too. I try to squeeze my thighs together, embarrassed at the sudden exposure, but your hands on both of my inner thighs, inches from my pussy, stop me.
"Don't." My stomach and chest rise and fall with my panting, breasts trembling. You raise your hand, and I look away wincing before you bring it down, hard and steady again, against my swollen clit. I cry out.
"Keep it down or I'll gag you. You don't want to get caught, do you?" I shake my head. "Good. I'm not done with you yet."
You're kneeling between my legs now, where I couldn't close them even if I wanted to, and knowing that makes me ache with need. I know I must be dripping, and I wonder if you can see it even in the moonlight, glistening. The thought makes me wonder if your cock is leaking precum at all, and I want to lick you and find out.
Instead, though, you lean over me, supporting yourself on one hand by my head while the other grabs my jaw and guides me in another deep kiss. You grind your pelvis against my needy wet cunt, and I can feel your hardness beneath your pants. I'm simultaneously grateful for the stimulation and disappointed that your pants are still up, still fastened. As much as I want to pull my knees up to give us both a better angle, to grind against you, I can still feel the sting of your last slap and it reminds me not to move.
Frustrated, so needy, I groan into your mouth. I just know there'll be a spot left on your pants from the way you're pressing into my wetness. You lean more of your weight on me, and your hand slides from my jaw down around my throat.
My eyes pop open with the realization that I'm letting a stranger hold my life in his hands, and you're already looking at me.
"You're gonna be a good girl and let daddy take what he wants, yeah?" You squeeze my throat as you ask, and I gasp, just nodding in response. I don't trust my voice.
"Say it, sweetheart." Your hand relaxes and I take in a gulp of air, exhaling shakily. I inhale one more time and try to speak.
