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A date and a non-date July 25, 2010

Posted by Leah in Craigslust, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Public.


He invited me to join him in the park. He knew a place where the grass was long and uncut (just like his cock, he said). First, we enjoyed a little picnic — he brought a blanket, sandwiches and fruit, salad, a bottle of wine, two glasses. We basked in the weather and spoke of the plays we had seen, museum exhibitions, the daily aggravations of the underground. Yards away, people kicked around a soccer ball, walked dogs and babies, and laid out on the grass, like us. We saw and heard them.

I had worn a loose fitting skirt that fell to the knees with no panties below. I loosened his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped, and tugged the shorts and briefs down his remarkably hairy thighs. The cock was hard, an average size, and uncut; his pubis could have used grooming, the nest of hair was so thick. I retracted the skin and licked at the head. Lips taut about the shaft, my mouth took him in. While I worked the penis with lips and tongue, he reached up the skirt and fingered my pussy. He ran over my slit, rubbing the moisture from the cunt over the bare pubis. The grass concealed us effectively, but the sounds of the blowjob were loud in my ears. With a penis in my mouth, my eyes scanned the surroundings for voyeurs. It didn’t appear that we were observed. I sucked him five minutes, ten at the most, before he came.

He jerked at the orgasm, and the penis slipped from my lips. The come landed on the ground and also on his shorts and legs. Though we wiped it with paper napkins, it left a wet spot on the fabric. Since it was there, once he had pulled his shorts up, I pressed my mouth over it and sucked, tasting his brine. The saliva made the wet spot bigger. The penis stirred below me.

When it was my turn, I laid on the blanket on my side, my head level with his waist, and hitched up the skirt. I showed him my pussy, pressed a grape inside, ate another. He extracted the grape, popped it in his mouth, and swallowed, then proceeded to eat my sex. His technique was to rub my pussy lips, sending his middle finger inside, tapping the walls with it, perhaps reaching for the G-spot, while he licked and sucked on the clitoris. It lacked variety, but it did the job. The summer air hit me from below as he lapped. I had the scent of dirt and grass. Looking down, I liked the contrast between his skin and mine. Aroused by the blowjob already, I quivered and had a small orgasm. Since I was busy being licked, I didn’t pay attention to what was happening around us. The noises of the park hit me after: the sounds of children playing, the babble of indistinct conversation, a foot striking the ball. There was no applause or laughter when we finished, no police, no amused or disapproving looks. We must have gotten away with it, in the tall grass, on a lazy afternoon, surrounded by hundreds, out in the open, right in the heart of London.



My lunch date didn’t show. That’s shibari I won’t be having.