Sacks, Part one

Copyright 2010 Markee2baad’sosaad. All rights reserved.

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Though the wind had a chill, portending an autumn which would arrive all-too soon, it was actually not that bad an evening. At least in the sun it was warm.

And the warmth was only slightly lessened by the breeze of the water as we headed down the path toward where ‘the deed’ would finally be achieved. Just ahead of us lay a set of stairs which took us down to water’s edge, and the anticipation of what lay ahead caused the hair on my arms – and certain other things – to stiffen.

You had dressed as I’d requested – in fact, you were wearing the outfit we’d picked up the previous weekend at ye local thrift store: a skirt that wasn’t quite mini (but close enough for my tastes) and underneath your jacket a sheer button-down blouse – true finds at just under $5.00 for the set (give or take HST). Was even able to pay cash and – did you look great modelling them the day we were there?

You betchy you did! Especially loved the glow on your upper cheeks when you came out of the change room wearing the first outfit we’d chosen.

‘A little…revealing,’ you’d said, giggling nervously. T’was true: The tube top, though snugging your luscious breasts MOST deliciously, wasn’t the most flattering, were the truth known. And the ultra mini-mini, though causing my cock to stiffen even more than it had in anticipation of seeing you – really would be an, erm, ‘hard’ sell – just getting out the door! (To say nothing of when you attempted to get out of a car…or when you sat down…or…)

‘Oh, all RIGHT,’ I sighed, perhaps a little over-dramatically –but I DID want to get the point across. That point being: I WAS in charge; you WERE here, modelling and trussing up for MY amusement, and so…

‘Try the other one,’ I conceded, adjusting my jeans while glancing around to see if any other patrons waiting to use the change room were paying us any mind. Relieved to see that everyone else seemed lost in their own business, I returned to standing a respectable distance away while you attended to YOUR business, just behind the door of the change cubicle.

‘Ooh…shit…sorry!’ I heard you whisper.

Approaching the door and knocking gently, I asked ‘Everything all right?’

You paused. ‘Not sure about this one, either, actually.’

‘Show me.’

Another pause. ‘Not coming out.’

I smiled. ‘Beg pardon?’

‘Not coming out…Sir.’

As if that were an appropriate response, too. Willing to let bygones go by (if only because I was interested in the destination, not the denouement), I ventured ‘I’ll come in, then.’

‘No!’ came your hasty reply. A little TOO hasty, to my mind.

‘…no? Starting to detect a theme, here.’ By this point, eyes were training on me, making me almost as nervous as you sounded.

‘Look, either we just drop this entirely, or you let me in – and before anyone sees us, too.’

Another pause. I glanced around in time to see those who were looking look away. Just as well, the nosey nellies. Getcher OWN submissive! Or as submissive as she seemed able…aah, breaking in newbs could be SUCH an ordeal!

‘Letting me in or not?’ I whispered as loudly as I could, indicating MY preference, since it appeared that one of us needed to take the cock by the balls.

Hearing the door unlatch, your eyes met mine through the crack. ‘Quickly!’

And then I was in, latching the door behind me.

Well. You had a point, I thought. Looking you over, this outfit DEFINITELY had…potential, but it was no more appropriate – for street wear, at any rate – than the one you’d just had on.

‘I look like a hooker,’ you said, with no small amount of disdain.

Umm, yeah- that was kinda the point, I wasn’t gonna say – at least not to your face. Suspect my eyes gave me away – or if they didn’t, the smile brooking my face couldn’t help but. You also smiled and your hands which, up until then, had covered your breasts, relaxed, and you dropped your arms to your sides.

‘I can see your nipples.’ I grinned.

‘No shit, Sherlock.’ My smile was not returned. ‘Sorry.’

The white blouse, undoubtedly weathered by time – and probably being cheap to begin with – was as sheer as could be. No complaints – at least not from ME – but, well…how to sell? How to SELL?

Telling you I could see your nipples probably wasn’t quite the way.

‘It’s a good color on you?’

Wasn’t doing very well at this, I could just TELL when your foot connected with mine.

‘Sorry,’ you said again, but I was unconvinced that you meant it this time.

The skirt – less like a belt than the last one but still…provocative – dipped down to just below…your sweet spots. Any false MOVE, however, and all respectability would go out the door.

‘Turn around.’

The curve of your hips, despite your saying how ‘flat’ your bum was, was nicely accented by the skirt, and me and cock nodded appreciatively.

‘Bend over.’

‘Tried that,’ you said, not turning to face me while you nervously fidgeted with your hands. ‘Wasn’t…pleasant.’

‘…bend over.’

I’d learn you yet. Sure enough, my fondest hopes were realized. In your undergarment-less state (which was how I had asked you to be, whenever we were together) required very little imagination over-working. Yes, the skirt, once ANY movement came into play, revealed its limitations, happily. Riding high, it almost seemed to double over itself as it slid above your cheeks to finally rest above your hips.

Nice. VERY nice.

‘Please don’t tell me this is the…this will be the…’ you stammered, attempting to steady yourself against the wall with one hand while the other fairly vainly tried to pull down the skirt.

Unfortunately – for YOU – I had different ideas.

‘Love it,’ I replied, deeply satisfied – and incredibly aroused. And just as the thought of doing a little hard-assed fucking right there and then crossed my mind, there came a knock on the door.

‘Everything all right in there?’ a lady’s voice enquired.

‘Fine – fine,’ you squeaked.

‘Let’s get out of here,’ I mouthed, moving to unlatch the door.

‘Looking like this?’ The look on your face was priceless.

Patting your still naked bum and gathering up your clothes, I smiled and opened the door as you frantically attempted to cover up.

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And, that’s how we came to arrive at the stairs, down to the waves which lapped and gently cheered in our background. Just prior to the final set, there was a cement landing with a metal railing. When we’d been here last time, I’d cautiously – albeit deliberately – found opportunities in which to touch you: an arm around your waist; a hand on your shoulder. That’s as far as it went that day, though. Since you neither returned my advances nor made any indication they were appreciated OR acknowledged, I’d thought leaving well enough alone was the best course of action.

That day.

When, in a convo after that incident, you suggested you were looking for a somewhat more ‘Dom-like’ approach, that was my cue to…well, let’s just say that today those boundaries, and notions, would be put to the test.

‘Well,’ I said, putting as much meaning into that one-syllable word as I could.

‘Well,’ you replied, as non-committal as ever.

‘Kiss me,’ I said, my back to the water and leaning against the railing.

Being three inches taller than me, you had a slight height advantage. Had it been me, I would’ve used that to my favour. With you, however – which was true of most ANYONE who wasn’t me – you merely…did what you chose to do, darn it all. And, in this instance, that was…

You paused. Then you smiled. ‘Just like that?’

I tried giving you a stern look. ‘Those WERE the stipulations. Need I spoil the mood by reminding you.’

‘Ok – it’s ok – sorry; I know…it’s just me…me on the fence again…’

‘You make it seem like you don’t WANT to…’

And then you did. As if the lesson came back to you in a BLINDING flash, you not only DID, but you did it as requested:

With passion.

Wrapping your arms around me, our lips connected. Not sure whose tongue brooked the others first, but I soon assumed the advantage by assaulting your tonsils with my mouth snake, then sucking YOUR tongue into my mouth with verve and abandon.

‘Mmmf!’ you grunted, but didn’t release. In fact, you seemed to grip me in your arms all the tighter, as my cock rose between us.

The wind was picking up, tossing the waves a bit harder than when we first arrived. We barely noticed, though, sitting down at the top of the final steps before the water. Taking your head in my right hand, I gripped your hair tightly. You started, your mouth opening precisely as I’d wanted it to. Kissing you again, my tongue continued its exploratory while my other hand moved toward your chest. Slipping my fingers between the buttons, I yanked at them forcefully. The top one popped off immediately, while the second merely loosened from the eye. Finding your nipple, I gripped it between thumb and index finger. Squeezing gently at first, I applied increased pressure until I felt the rest of your body stiffen. Relaxing my grip on your nipple, I then encircled your entire breast with my hand. Squeezing even more firmly, I pressed downward so that we both wound up lying beside each other on the hard, but warm, cement.

Ripping the rest of the blouse open, your chest was now completely exposed to the elements. Adding insult to injury, the skirt was now well up your legs, and your furry triangle glistened in the fading sun.

‘I…don’t think…we…shouldn’t…’ you gasped when I released your mouth from mine. Whether you meant that or not – assuming I even KNEW, much less cared – what you did mean – I was, well…fairly relentless. To say nothing of being insistent.

Between your legs my tit hand travelled, and your legs opened – whether you ‘meant’ to or not. (as if I’d have accepted anything less). Your slickness matched the glistening, and I had no trouble slipping between your lips. First one, then two…dare I try three? – fingers went in, as my mouth travelled to the tit I’d been neglecting. Flicking your nipple with my tongue, I vacuumed your entire tit into my hot, wet mouth. Clamping down and around with increased intensity, you gasped as my finger-fucking continued and I chewed your chest like a wad of doubld-bubble.

Rocking you in quadruple-time to the waves crashing below us, we set up a rhythm that might’ve even aroused Mother Nature…had she not been a part of things from the word go. You gasped, writhed, and moaned as I almost fist-fucked you, my cock desperate to become part of the mix – if it could last that long, that is.

~to be continued~

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