A Bridge Too Far

Warning!  Adult sexual content.  You must be of legal age in your country to read this blog.

“I’m on the 401 and should be at your place in less than an hour” Andrew texted.

Good.  I had just finished painting sparkly pink polish on my toenails.  Fourty five minutes gave me plenty of time to take a bath and ready myself.  I stepped into the bathroom, turned on the taps while adding some scented bath oil and let the deep tub fill up.   I undid my silky housecoat and let it fall to my feet.  While the hot water churned and frothed with the oil, I gathered everything needed to pamper myself.  Scented soap and a sea sponge.  Razor.  Soft music playing.  A chilled glass of Chablis.

I dipped my toes gingerly into the hot water and sank down onto the bottom of the tub.  I let out a sigh and leaned my head back against the edge, both my arms relaxed along each side.  My large breasts bobbed above the water, nipples poking out from between the sudsy bubbles.  I closed my eyes and soaked, letting my mind skip through the possibilities for the night.  My right hand sank a little lower beneath the water.

“What should we do tonight?” I wondered.  I let my hand and my mind wander and lost track of time.

My daydreaming moment was up.  And Andrew would be angry if he knew I had touched myself.  Guiltily, I began to clean up.  My pink lady shaver glided up over each graceful turn of my body.  No hair left below my head.  I poured a quarter sized dollop of my favourite scented soap onto the sponge and rubbed in circles around my body.  My skin was smooth, glistening and pink when I was done.  I sank below the water to wet my hair and lathered it up with a fresh, citrusy scented shampoo.  Rinse. Repeat. Squeaky clean.

As I stood up, the soapy water ran down in rivers between the hills and valleys of my body.  I wrapped myself in a large, soft towel and checked the time.  Andrew would be here in a few minutes.

I quickly toweled dry and put some light makeup on.  Styled my hair, clipped on some earrings and sprayed my body with his favourite scent.  Feeling casual girl Friday, I chose my pink pushup bra and matching thong.  Each piece of lingerie had a tiny pink bow on the front.  I slipped a decidedly too small pink tshirt with HOLLISTER emblazoned the chest over my head and pulled on a pair of skintight ripped jeans.  Andrew loved the location of the rip on my left leg.  Just below the pocket, a few inches from the bend where my body ended and my long legs began.  If he reached inside the tear, he could find exactly what he wanted …

I had just added some lipstick when Andrew’s car pulled into my driveway.

I opened the door, leaned on the frame and crossed my arms in front of me, barely able to contain my excitement at seeing him.  I smiled as he ran up the steps, taking two at a time with his long legs.

He was wearing jeans as well, casual deck shoes and a dark blue collared tshirt.

Andrew gathered me in his arms and picked me up off the ground.  I squealed my delight, wrapped my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist.  Our sexual bodies – instinctively sensing the close proximity of eachother – aroused immediately.  He crushed me up against the wall, pushed the front door shut with one hand and pulled my hair back with the other.  I rocked my hips into him.

Without a word said, he carried me up my stairs and tossed me onto the bed.  I laced the fingers of my hands together and raised my arms up over my head, stretching my body out before him.  He leaned forward, undid the button on my jeans, lowered the zipper and tugged.  I lifted my ass to help him pull my pants off.  He grabbed both my jeans and my thong and yanked them off with one quick motion.

Standing before me, he undid his belt, undid his jeans and took them off.  I looked at the massive hardon peeking out from the tip his underwear and smiled.  He took them off and climbed up onto the bed on top of me.  He leaned his full weight on one hand and grabbed his cock with the other.  Rubbing the tip against me, he asked what I wanted.

“You” I moaned.  God, I hated it when he teased me.  I bit my lip to stop myself from crying out.

“Have you been a good girl?” He asked.

“Yes … No …” I changed my mind, wondering what the right answer was tonight.

He slid in, just a tiny bit, and said “No?  Tell me what a bad girl you’ve been.” 

My mind flashed to the tub and my hands.  Should I tell him?  No.

“I couldn’t wait for you tonight.  I’ve missed you this week.”  It all gushed out in a rush.

“Naughty girl,” he said, sternly.  “What am I going to do with you?” 

He slid in deeper.  Slower.  In.  Out.  All of him.  I’ve never had to take in so much man.

Andrew was in a bit of a mood, and wanted full control.  He slid all the way out.

I can’t tell you how empty I felt.  My body groaned at the loss.  He moved lower and his lips covered mine as he decided to tease me and tempt me another way.  My fingers curled into his hair tightly.

Just as he got me closer to my orgasm, he stopped.  My eyes opened and I begged.

“No … Please!  Don’t stop.”  I couldn’t stand this.

He pulled me over to the side of the bed so my head hung over the edge.  He got up and stood before me and said, “Tonight you are going to learn how to take me deep in your throat.” 

With him positioned over me, he instructed my hands and mouth how to receive him.  Whispering words of encouragement, he patiently allowed my body to adjust and please him.  His hips started to move and I strangled, unable to take all of him in.  He stopped, readjusted and let my lips and tongue dance around him.

I knew he was ready to come.  I could feel it.  He loved having control of me and my body.  He loved making me do something.  And like the bad girl I was, I moved quickly, picking up the pace and forcing him over the edge and into my mouth.  Huge spurts of cum.  It had been a long, lonely week for both us.

I could feel more and more hot cum slide down.  Finally spent, I licked what was left and looked up at him.

He flipped me over and spanked me.

“You are a bad girl tonight.  I think I am going to make you wait all night.” 

Sigh.  Does it really pay to be bad?  Not tonight.

Jeans back on, teeth brushed.  We got in the car and headed to his friend’s pub on the Danforth.  Parking would be a challenge this late on a Friday night.  That’s ok … I could walk.  I had decided to stick with pink flip flops for the night.  I rarely wore them while out with Andrew, because I felt the twelve inch difference in our height.

We reached the pub, bypassed the doorman and moved into two stools right at the bar.  Neil* smiled as he saw us, then squeezed outside of the serving area so he could hug each of us in a warm hello.

“Look at you two!” he exclaimed, patting us on the back.  “What a sight for my sore eyes!”  Neil had known Andrew while he was married, and marveled at the change in him.  Each time the longtime friends saw each other, Andrew was calmer, happier, more relaxed and more in control.  I loved the lazy smile that spread across Andrew’s mouth.  If Neil only knew …

We ate and drank at the bar.  I licked wing sauce away from the corner of my mouth and Andrew wiped the rest off with his finger.  I did my bad girl best to make him remember all of the tricks my tongue could do.

We laughed and sang all evening with the lone musician playing in the corner.  The pub was full of a fun Friday night crowd.  Close to midnight, Andrew and I said our goodbyes and walked through the side streets to the car.

Just as we reached a shed behind a business, Andrew pulled me in behind it.  He leaned over and kissed me, his mouth leaving a trail from my lips to my ear.

“You know you were a bad girl this evening,” he said.

I nodded yes, that indeed I did know I was bad.

“Kneel.”

I kneeled right there.  One knee in my jeans was completely ripped out and my knee grazed a broken patio stone in the dirt.  I tried to reposition it onto a little patch of grass.  Andrew undid his pants again and gave me full instructions on how to take all of him right there.  I tried.  He whispered more words of encouragement and told me I was only his.  He would always possess my flame within.  Like the moth to the flame… He held my head and my hair while I took care of his needs.  For the second time that evening, he came right in my mouth.

Proud of myself but petulant.  I was wondering when I would get my turn.

Into the car, onto the 401, exit in my sleepy town.  He headed south instead of north.

He parked the car and we got out to stroll in the moonlight beside the lake.  It was perfectly calm.  Gentle waves lapping at the shore.  We walked west.  Arm in arm.  And stopped on the bridge over the creek.  I leaned on my arms and looked out over the water.

Andrew reached around and undid my pants.  Without any protest from me, he lowered them below my knees.  I heard him unzip his own.  Spreading my legs as best he could, he entered me from behind.  Both of us looked out over the moonlit water while he gently rocked inside me.  I closed my eyes and listened.  Part of me loved the freedom of what he was doing to me.  Part of me tensed up at the possibility of being caught.  What if?

I gave in to my body and rode the waves of pleasure.  Having come twice without me, he was now making this moment for me.  The constricted position of my legs helped bring me close to orgasm very fast.  Or perhaps it was the humid night air by the lake.  Frogs and crickets cricked and croaked in the stream below.

I grabbed on to the rusty bars of the bridge.  I felt each stroke from behind.  One of his hands held the bridge like I did.  The other held my hip bone.  Other than my lips, this was the part of my body he kissed the most.  He loved how my hip still jutted out, making it the perfect handle.

My breath caught between my lips.  I bit down to stifle the cry so as to not break the silence of the night.  I came. Finally.  Like waves lapping the shore, my orgasm lapped at my body.  I shook all over.  He buried his head next to mine and allowed himself to come as well.

We stood there, not moving for minutes.  He wrapped his hands around my waist and placed his chin on my head.  I stood still for minutes, coccooned in his embrace.  Finally, he pulled out.  Feeling like we had run out of time, I quickly stooped to pull up my pants and did them up, not even worrying about the sticky wet mess I was left with…  He did up his and we turned and walked back to the car.  The night stayed hushed.  The shrubs and bulrushes keeping our secret.

We got in the car and headed home to bed.

Stay outdoorsie,

Lisa

*Name(s) changed to protect the guilty!

Read the Fox Blog:  hear what the Fox really has to say

© Lisa Jobson 2017

 

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