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I’m so glad Fanta convinced me to take a chance when she inherited a rustic property in the country, complete with largehome, stables, and even a little chapel on the 200 acres.
Everything is better here: the air, the sunshine, the food… and the sex. Man, the sex is fucking incredible here. We can do it just about anywhere and everywhere, we can be as loud as we want, and best of all, we take our sweet time if we want to.
And that’s a luxury for us rats newly liberated from the race. We both moved to the big city for work, and we met at a huge office party where lots of companies book tables. We hit it off immediately, and we danced all night, grabbing and clutching each others’ asses and laughing. Even when we sat to catch our breath and have yet another drink, we kept touching, my hand on her stockinged thigh, hers on my silk tie, feeling my chest underneath. When we talked, we found we had so much in common—we both had e-mail jobs, and we both loved the excitement of the city but found climbing the career ladders left so little time for socialising and rest. We were stimulated and exhausted at the same time.
Another thing we had in common—neither of us wanted to wait to get back to one of our tiny apartments before we could finally release our pent-up need to get naked and naughty. I dragged her into a large closet, and there in the dark with the soft winter coats, I wrapped my hand in her hair and pulled her close, kissing her deeply, deeper than we had dared on the dancefloor. She grabbed my ass and pulled me into her, one leg wrapped around mine, and I used my other hand to grabher rear in return.
The kiss sent my lust into overdrive. My cock had been straining all night as we danced and touched and talked; even her laugh made me want to kiss her and nuzzle her neck and dive between her thighs, licking and sucking until she quaked with an orgasm. But there was no room and no time for it in that closet—we needed each other so urgently.
We were so in sync, so focused on our lust, that I was hiking up her skirt and even as she was unfastening my belt and pulling down my zipper.
I slipped my fingers under her skirt and yanked her knickers to the side, while she dragged my cock from my pants with just as much urgency. Then I was driving into her, my rigid cock sliding along her pussy lips and then into her, tight, hot, and soaking wet.
Her breath tickled my neck as she groaned into my skin, I swear I could hear the electricity between us sizzle. Just as it had during dinner.
“Fuck me, David, fuck me,” she whispered huskily, but I was already thrusting madly, as if to drive us both through the wall I had her pinned against, her arms around my neck, holding on for dear life. She felt so good, and the sound of her panting, urging me on with her filthy, lust-crazed commands, meant I wasn’t going to last long.
“Harder,” she moaned.
I closed my eyes and focused on pounding her, adjusting her ass under my hands so my cock was rubbing against her clit with every thrust.
“Oh! Oh David, oh…” she trailed off, then shook in my arms, her pussy convulsing around my cock as she came. As she milked my cock with her cunt, she dug her nails into my back, and that was it—she had me. With one final thrust and a deep guttural growl, I exploded deep inside her.
No one saw us come out of the closet, our hair messy, my tie askew, her skirt rumpled, our faces flushed. And if our friends saw us kissing and touching each other as we got in a cab together an hour later, we didn’t care. We went back to my place, and there we fucked again, taking our time, exploring as new lovers do. We tasted each other before I sunk into her again, this time taking it slow, savouring each and every sensation.
But times like that, with plenty of time to enjoy each other’s company, not just sexually, but in general, were rare. We did the best we could with our punishing schedules, sometimes waking up early for a quickie before getting up to get ready for work, or a fast fuck in the shower to save time. We hated it, but with rising costs and backstabbing rivals in both our offices gunning for the same promotions, we had no choice.
That was until Fanta’s Uncle passed and left her his country estate and a very tidy sum of cash.
An escape.
We left the rat race behind the very next week.
We took to the simple life with a speed that surprised us. We ate more simply, spoke more simply, dressed more simply.
We didn’t even bother to bring a TV with us to the house, just all of our books. She loved to have a man read to her, and every night I would read from whatever book she handed me, and when she was close to drifting off in my lap, I would close the book, scoop her up, and take her to bed. Sometimes she just slept, and other times, she opened her eyes and herarms, beckoning me to make love to her.
Fanta smiled sweetly at me. We were dressed as usual in the summer, lightweight white clothes that reflected our clean, idyllic new lifestyle: me in shirt and pants, her in a sleeveless summer dress that was almost see through. She was also wearing her pearls, which had become a joke between us: a literal pearl necklace, not the filthy ones in the books she read. But with that silk ankle-length dress and her hair pulled up in an elegant bun adorned with white flowers, it was perfect.That was Fanta: elegant and stunning, even after just waking up in our sun-dappled bedroom.
“There’s a surprise for you out by the chapel.” She said, a smile playing at her lips.
“Oh?” I said, “What is it?”
“A surprise, silly!” she giggled and pulled me out of my chair.
I picked a flower for Fanta as we passed the tiny chapel building on the grounds. She smiled as she took it, and then gestured to a wooden table set up in the middle of the overgrown field. As we got closer, I saw a large white basin on the table, and a big mirror leaning against it.
“Have a seat.” Fanta said, pointing to a little stool.
I did and saw more of what was on the table: shaving soap, a towel, and an old-fashioned straight razor. A frisson of nerves went through me as Fanta began to rub the soap onto my cheeks.
“You know how to use that, right?” I asked, trying not to tremble. Fanta had incredibly talented hands, with a paintbrush and with my cock, but that blade looked wickedly sharp. From behind me, Fanta whispered into my ear, “I’ve been practicing…”
“Where—” I started to ask, but then it dawned on me: Fanta kept her pussy absolutely hairless. She must have started shaving with the straight razor instead of the drugstore razors. It made sense; we found pleasure in doing other things the old-fashioned way—why not this too?
“Oh!”
Fanta continued to lather my face with the soap, and as always, her touch was soft and scintillating at the same time. I could feel the love in her touch as she spread the soap on my cheeks and throat. I imagined her touching herself the same way as she prepared to shave her gorgeous pussy, and an electric thrill went through me, thinking about her beautiful cunt.
So when she approached with the razor, the sun reflecting light off the keen blade, I was nervous, but I’d be lying if this wasn’t also super hot. I was putting all my trust in my lover as she shaved me, just as she shaved herself.
I picked up the mirror and held it on my thigh for her, relieved to see my hands were steady. I got this, I decided. And then she started. I steeled myself, reminding myself to stay perfectly still. I tried to calm my breathing.
Her touch was gentle, and her soft breasts pressed into me as she stood behind me to graze the blade down my flesh, rasping as it sliced off my stubble. When she lifted the razor from my face to wipe it on the towel, I let out the breath I didn’t realise I was holding and was stunned to feel my cock stiffening in my pants. It only strained further as she held my jaw taut, her hand firm, but the blade as gentle as if she was tickling my face with a feather.
I closed my eyes, fully trusting in Fanta now, and wanting to focus on this intimate act of service. The contrasts made my head swim—the soft warmth of her breath hand against the cold hard razor on my skin. Did Fanta get wet as she groomed her pussy, the deadly blade slicing so close to her clit with each stroke?
Nothing could be more intimate than this, I thought, the complete certainty that your life was safe in the hands of another, even as they wielded a deadly instrument so close to the jugular.
I wanted it to last forever, and I wanted it to be over so I could throw the mirror into the high grass, sweep everything off the little table, and take her right there.
“All done,” she said, pulling me out of my trance. She handed me a towel, and I wiped my face.
“Let’s see how I did,” she said, sliding the back of one hand down my cheek, appraising her work. She took her time, relishing in the smoothness she’d created. I felt strangely exposed, naked, as her sweet fingers crept over my tingling bare skin—I couldn’t wait another second. I pulled her head to me, ravenous for her mouth, and I kissed her hard. She dragged her fingers down my smooth cheek again, and I moaned into her sweet mouth.
Her fingers kept going, trailing down my neck to the buttons of my shirt. She undid them, and then her fingers continued south.
She gasped when she reached my rigid cock.
“Oh, does a shave turn you on?” Fanta whispered into my ear. “I wish I had known that earlier.”
“Me too,” I grunted, and then she was jerking me, too slowly, too languidly. Oh, she was going to torture me now, was she?
She looked hungry when she saw my cock.
“Oh, Dave,” she murmured as she kneeled next to the stool, intent on my cock, fixated on it as she ran those talented hands up and down the shaft. She might have started sweet and gentle, but now her fingers around my cock were rougher and dirtier. She sped up when I groaned, trying to coax more guttural sounds from me. Her grip, a vice now, each pistoning stroke making me more and more feral.
She met my need by sucking me into her warm, wet mouth, sliding smoothly up and down. She was adoring my dick, relishing the feel and taste of it, making little whimpering sounds.
Each suck and slurp of that mouth threatened to make me explode, my hot cum coating her throat, but I needed to fuck her, to be inside her, to be connected. To be joined where hard cock met soft wet cunt, our fucking the ultimate expression of our frenzied lust for each other.
When she looked up at me, her lips slick with salvia, hand on my cock, I kissed her hard while pushing the table violently behind me. I didn’t care if everything shattered on the ground, Fanta’s hot, wet pussy was all I wanted.
I turned her to face the table, my wet, swollen dick straining impatiently as I roughly yanked down the straps of her dress, freeing her tits. I massaged them as I kissed her neck, and then pushed her down until she was supporting herself on the table, her ass in the air. I hiked up her dress and felt along the slippery folds of her pussy, marvelling at their smoothness, but only for a second.
I thrusted into her from behind, and as always, that first slide into her tight, hot channel sent a hot jolt of primal lust through my whole body and made my cock so fucking hard. It made me laser-focused on that wet friction, to increase it, to go faster and deeper, to fuck my Fanta into oblivion.
I gripped her hips as I pounded into her, to hold her steady, an enthusiastic recipient of my thrusts, lifting one leg to rest her knee on the table, improving the angle for us both, and I knew she’d pulled me in deeper, my cock massaging the bottom wall of her cunt. Yes, she wanted to fuck, to rut, just as much as I did, to take the hard pounding I was giving. Hearing her heavy breaths, knowing she was as needy to cum as I was made me want. I loved my sweet Fanta, but I lusted for my filthy Fanta, the one writhing and grunting beneath me, urging me on with demands to go harder and faster, just as she had in the closet at that office party.
I needed more friction and depth. I pulled Fanta up roughly until she was standing, and I was fucking up and into her grasping and squeezing her bouncing tits in one hand. She matched my strokes, each thrust a delicious grinding of my cock along her tight pussy walls, and I pushed deep enough that my whole cock was inside her with each hard drive of my hips.
“Fuck, Dave!” she said in a breathless voice. “I love that cock, but right now I need your tongue!”
She didn’t have to ask me twice. I pulled out, and she leaned back on the table, spreading her legs wide, exposing the wet, swollen lips of her pussy. I imagined her gliding the straight razor around and over those folds, wondering if it turned her on, that sharp blade on her most sensitive skin.
I had a shiver of pleasure even in the warm sun at the thought, and sank to my knees between her legs, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her juices before lapping at her pussy. I licked feverishly at her folds, teasing her clit with quick flicks of my tongue until she put her hand on my head, urging me to take that sensitive nub between my lips. “Mmmm…” I murmured as I suckled and licked her clit. I know how much she loves to be filled while her clit is stimulated, so I put two fingers in her pussy, sliding them in and out as furiously as I had my cock as I licked and sucked, loving the taste of her on my lips and tongue.
Her thigh tensed under my hand, and I sped up my pace to bring Fanta to her orgasm, me wanting it almost as much as her. God she was so fucking hot when she came, quivering and screaming, her juices pouring out of her.
Fanta screamed with complete abandon as a wave of pleasure crashed over her.
I didn’t give her time to recover. I stood and shoved back into her. We both groaned loudly again, and then I was fucking her hard, the table rocking under us. Fanta pulled her legs up to draw me deeper, to angle my cock so it rubbed her clit, hungry for even more stimulation.
Cum, boiled in my balls, desperate for release, “Sit on me, Fanta. I want to hold you, I want us to be close, I want….” Words failed me, but she knew what I meant—I need to explode inside her, with her…
She rose and turned, then climbed into my lap, lowering herself as I pulled her tightly onto me, a messy tangle of limbs in a field, our grunts and groans the only sounds for the birds and animals to hear.
We stared into each other’s eyes as I thrust, and she rocked her hips, and that undid me, the lust in her eyes, which must be mirroring my own, the pure bliss in them. She knew I was close, and she threw one hand around my neck and bent back so she had leverage to bounce on me harder and faster, urging me past the point of no return. She closed her eyes andI did the same, concentrating on our primal, frenzied fucking.
We exploded together in a post shaving sex haze, both of us crying out as I emptied myself into her, my cock a rod of pure pleasure, spurting shot after shot of hot cum into Fanta’s convulsing cunt. We kissed hard, lips mashed together, tongues in a frantic dance as we quivered, squeezing every last blissful sensation where we were joined.
When I finally opened my eyes, emptied and ecstatic, Fanta was smiling at me.
“I want to ask you something.”
“Oh,” I said. “I do too.”
“Me first. I want you to shave me, next time.”
“With the straight razor?”
“Of course!” she giggled. “That’s all we’ll use from now on. I like the old-fashioned stuff.”
“Me too,” I said, and kissed her nose.
“What did you want to ask me?”
I looked at the chapel, and then back at Fanta, my lover, warm, soft, and glowing in my lap.
“It can wait…”
“We’ve got all the time in the world.”
The End
Everything is better here: the air, the sunshine, the food… and the sex. Man, the sex is fucking incredible here. We can do it just about anywhere and everywhere, we can be as loud as we want, and best of all, we take our sweet time if we want to.
And that’s a luxury for us rats newly liberated from the race. We both moved to the big city for work, and we met at a huge office party where lots of companies book tables. We hit it off immediately, and we danced all night, grabbing and clutching each others’ asses and laughing. Even when we sat to catch our breath and have yet another drink, we kept touching, my hand on her stockinged thigh, hers on my silk tie, feeling my chest underneath. When we talked, we found we had so much in common—we both had e-mail jobs, and we both loved the excitement of the city but found climbing the career ladders left so little time for socialising and rest. We were stimulated and exhausted at the same time.
Another thing we had in common—neither of us wanted to wait to get back to one of our tiny apartments before we could finally release our pent-up need to get naked and naughty. I dragged her into a large closet, and there in the dark with the soft winter coats, I wrapped my hand in her hair and pulled her close, kissing her deeply, deeper than we had dared on the dancefloor. She grabbed my ass and pulled me into her, one leg wrapped around mine, and I used my other hand to grabher rear in return.
The kiss sent my lust into overdrive. My cock had been straining all night as we danced and touched and talked; even her laugh made me want to kiss her and nuzzle her neck and dive between her thighs, licking and sucking until she quaked with an orgasm. But there was no room and no time for it in that closet—we needed each other so urgently.
We were so in sync, so focused on our lust, that I was hiking up her skirt and even as she was unfastening my belt and pulling down my zipper.
I slipped my fingers under her skirt and yanked her knickers to the side, while she dragged my cock from my pants with just as much urgency. Then I was driving into her, my rigid cock sliding along her pussy lips and then into her, tight, hot, and soaking wet.
Her breath tickled my neck as she groaned into my skin, I swear I could hear the electricity between us sizzle. Just as it had during dinner.
“Fuck me, David, fuck me,” she whispered huskily, but I was already thrusting madly, as if to drive us both through the wall I had her pinned against, her arms around my neck, holding on for dear life. She felt so good, and the sound of her panting, urging me on with her filthy, lust-crazed commands, meant I wasn’t going to last long.
“Harder,” she moaned.
I closed my eyes and focused on pounding her, adjusting her ass under my hands so my cock was rubbing against her clit with every thrust.
“Oh! Oh David, oh…” she trailed off, then shook in my arms, her pussy convulsing around my cock as she came. As she milked my cock with her cunt, she dug her nails into my back, and that was it—she had me. With one final thrust and a deep guttural growl, I exploded deep inside her.
No one saw us come out of the closet, our hair messy, my tie askew, her skirt rumpled, our faces flushed. And if our friends saw us kissing and touching each other as we got in a cab together an hour later, we didn’t care. We went back to my place, and there we fucked again, taking our time, exploring as new lovers do. We tasted each other before I sunk into her again, this time taking it slow, savouring each and every sensation.
But times like that, with plenty of time to enjoy each other’s company, not just sexually, but in general, were rare. We did the best we could with our punishing schedules, sometimes waking up early for a quickie before getting up to get ready for work, or a fast fuck in the shower to save time. We hated it, but with rising costs and backstabbing rivals in both our offices gunning for the same promotions, we had no choice.
That was until Fanta’s Uncle passed and left her his country estate and a very tidy sum of cash.
An escape.
We left the rat race behind the very next week.
We took to the simple life with a speed that surprised us. We ate more simply, spoke more simply, dressed more simply.
We didn’t even bother to bring a TV with us to the house, just all of our books. She loved to have a man read to her, and every night I would read from whatever book she handed me, and when she was close to drifting off in my lap, I would close the book, scoop her up, and take her to bed. Sometimes she just slept, and other times, she opened her eyes and herarms, beckoning me to make love to her.
Then, one morning at breakfast, I was rubbing my cheek, realising that I hadn’t shaved in days.Fanta smiled sweetly at me. We were dressed as usual in the summer, lightweight white clothes that reflected our clean, idyllic new lifestyle: me in shirt and pants, her in a sleeveless summer dress that was almost see through. She was also wearing her pearls, which had become a joke between us: a literal pearl necklace, not the filthy ones in the books she read. But with that silk ankle-length dress and her hair pulled up in an elegant bun adorned with white flowers, it was perfect.That was Fanta: elegant and stunning, even after just waking up in our sun-dappled bedroom.
“There’s a surprise for you out by the chapel.” She said, a smile playing at her lips.
“Oh?” I said, “What is it?”
“A surprise, silly!” she giggled and pulled me out of my chair.
I picked a flower for Fanta as we passed the tiny chapel building on the grounds. She smiled as she took it, and then gestured to a wooden table set up in the middle of the overgrown field. As we got closer, I saw a large white basin on the table, and a big mirror leaning against it.
“Have a seat.” Fanta said, pointing to a little stool.
I did and saw more of what was on the table: shaving soap, a towel, and an old-fashioned straight razor. A frisson of nerves went through me as Fanta began to rub the soap onto my cheeks.
“You know how to use that, right?” I asked, trying not to tremble. Fanta had incredibly talented hands, with a paintbrush and with my cock, but that blade looked wickedly sharp. From behind me, Fanta whispered into my ear, “I’ve been practicing…”
“Where—” I started to ask, but then it dawned on me: Fanta kept her pussy absolutely hairless. She must have started shaving with the straight razor instead of the drugstore razors. It made sense; we found pleasure in doing other things the old-fashioned way—why not this too?
“Oh!”
Fanta continued to lather my face with the soap, and as always, her touch was soft and scintillating at the same time. I could feel the love in her touch as she spread the soap on my cheeks and throat. I imagined her touching herself the same way as she prepared to shave her gorgeous pussy, and an electric thrill went through me, thinking about her beautiful cunt.
So when she approached with the razor, the sun reflecting light off the keen blade, I was nervous, but I’d be lying if this wasn’t also super hot. I was putting all my trust in my lover as she shaved me, just as she shaved herself.
I picked up the mirror and held it on my thigh for her, relieved to see my hands were steady. I got this, I decided. And then she started. I steeled myself, reminding myself to stay perfectly still. I tried to calm my breathing.
Her touch was gentle, and her soft breasts pressed into me as she stood behind me to graze the blade down my flesh, rasping as it sliced off my stubble. When she lifted the razor from my face to wipe it on the towel, I let out the breath I didn’t realise I was holding and was stunned to feel my cock stiffening in my pants. It only strained further as she held my jaw taut, her hand firm, but the blade as gentle as if she was tickling my face with a feather.
I closed my eyes, fully trusting in Fanta now, and wanting to focus on this intimate act of service. The contrasts made my head swim—the soft warmth of her breath hand against the cold hard razor on my skin. Did Fanta get wet as she groomed her pussy, the deadly blade slicing so close to her clit with each stroke?
Nothing could be more intimate than this, I thought, the complete certainty that your life was safe in the hands of another, even as they wielded a deadly instrument so close to the jugular.
I wanted it to last forever, and I wanted it to be over so I could throw the mirror into the high grass, sweep everything off the little table, and take her right there.
“All done,” she said, pulling me out of my trance. She handed me a towel, and I wiped my face.
“Let’s see how I did,” she said, sliding the back of one hand down my cheek, appraising her work. She took her time, relishing in the smoothness she’d created. I felt strangely exposed, naked, as her sweet fingers crept over my tingling bare skin—I couldn’t wait another second. I pulled her head to me, ravenous for her mouth, and I kissed her hard. She dragged her fingers down my smooth cheek again, and I moaned into her sweet mouth.
Her fingers kept going, trailing down my neck to the buttons of my shirt. She undid them, and then her fingers continued south.
She gasped when she reached my rigid cock.
“Oh, does a shave turn you on?” Fanta whispered into my ear. “I wish I had known that earlier.”
“Me too,” I grunted, and then she was jerking me, too slowly, too languidly. Oh, she was going to torture me now, was she?
She looked hungry when she saw my cock.
“Oh, Dave,” she murmured as she kneeled next to the stool, intent on my cock, fixated on it as she ran those talented hands up and down the shaft. She might have started sweet and gentle, but now her fingers around my cock were rougher and dirtier. She sped up when I groaned, trying to coax more guttural sounds from me. Her grip, a vice now, each pistoning stroke making me more and more feral.
She met my need by sucking me into her warm, wet mouth, sliding smoothly up and down. She was adoring my dick, relishing the feel and taste of it, making little whimpering sounds.
Each suck and slurp of that mouth threatened to make me explode, my hot cum coating her throat, but I needed to fuck her, to be inside her, to be connected. To be joined where hard cock met soft wet cunt, our fucking the ultimate expression of our frenzied lust for each other.
When she looked up at me, her lips slick with salvia, hand on my cock, I kissed her hard while pushing the table violently behind me. I didn’t care if everything shattered on the ground, Fanta’s hot, wet pussy was all I wanted.
I turned her to face the table, my wet, swollen dick straining impatiently as I roughly yanked down the straps of her dress, freeing her tits. I massaged them as I kissed her neck, and then pushed her down until she was supporting herself on the table, her ass in the air. I hiked up her dress and felt along the slippery folds of her pussy, marvelling at their smoothness, but only for a second.
I thrusted into her from behind, and as always, that first slide into her tight, hot channel sent a hot jolt of primal lust through my whole body and made my cock so fucking hard. It made me laser-focused on that wet friction, to increase it, to go faster and deeper, to fuck my Fanta into oblivion.
I gripped her hips as I pounded into her, to hold her steady, an enthusiastic recipient of my thrusts, lifting one leg to rest her knee on the table, improving the angle for us both, and I knew she’d pulled me in deeper, my cock massaging the bottom wall of her cunt. Yes, she wanted to fuck, to rut, just as much as I did, to take the hard pounding I was giving. Hearing her heavy breaths, knowing she was as needy to cum as I was made me want. I loved my sweet Fanta, but I lusted for my filthy Fanta, the one writhing and grunting beneath me, urging me on with demands to go harder and faster, just as she had in the closet at that office party.
I needed more friction and depth. I pulled Fanta up roughly until she was standing, and I was fucking up and into her grasping and squeezing her bouncing tits in one hand. She matched my strokes, each thrust a delicious grinding of my cock along her tight pussy walls, and I pushed deep enough that my whole cock was inside her with each hard drive of my hips.
“Fuck, Dave!” she said in a breathless voice. “I love that cock, but right now I need your tongue!”
She didn’t have to ask me twice. I pulled out, and she leaned back on the table, spreading her legs wide, exposing the wet, swollen lips of her pussy. I imagined her gliding the straight razor around and over those folds, wondering if it turned her on, that sharp blade on her most sensitive skin.
I had a shiver of pleasure even in the warm sun at the thought, and sank to my knees between her legs, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her juices before lapping at her pussy. I licked feverishly at her folds, teasing her clit with quick flicks of my tongue until she put her hand on my head, urging me to take that sensitive nub between my lips. “Mmmm…” I murmured as I suckled and licked her clit. I know how much she loves to be filled while her clit is stimulated, so I put two fingers in her pussy, sliding them in and out as furiously as I had my cock as I licked and sucked, loving the taste of her on my lips and tongue.
Her thigh tensed under my hand, and I sped up my pace to bring Fanta to her orgasm, me wanting it almost as much as her. God she was so fucking hot when she came, quivering and screaming, her juices pouring out of her.
Fanta screamed with complete abandon as a wave of pleasure crashed over her.
I didn’t give her time to recover. I stood and shoved back into her. We both groaned loudly again, and then I was fucking her hard, the table rocking under us. Fanta pulled her legs up to draw me deeper, to angle my cock so it rubbed her clit, hungry for even more stimulation.
Cum, boiled in my balls, desperate for release, “Sit on me, Fanta. I want to hold you, I want us to be close, I want….” Words failed me, but she knew what I meant—I need to explode inside her, with her…
She rose and turned, then climbed into my lap, lowering herself as I pulled her tightly onto me, a messy tangle of limbs in a field, our grunts and groans the only sounds for the birds and animals to hear.
We stared into each other’s eyes as I thrust, and she rocked her hips, and that undid me, the lust in her eyes, which must be mirroring my own, the pure bliss in them. She knew I was close, and she threw one hand around my neck and bent back so she had leverage to bounce on me harder and faster, urging me past the point of no return. She closed her eyes andI did the same, concentrating on our primal, frenzied fucking.
We exploded together in a post shaving sex haze, both of us crying out as I emptied myself into her, my cock a rod of pure pleasure, spurting shot after shot of hot cum into Fanta’s convulsing cunt. We kissed hard, lips mashed together, tongues in a frantic dance as we quivered, squeezing every last blissful sensation where we were joined.
When I finally opened my eyes, emptied and ecstatic, Fanta was smiling at me.
“I want to ask you something.”
“Oh,” I said. “I do too.”
“Me first. I want you to shave me, next time.”
“With the straight razor?”
“Of course!” she giggled. “That’s all we’ll use from now on. I like the old-fashioned stuff.”
“Me too,” I said, and kissed her nose.
“What did you want to ask me?”
I looked at the chapel, and then back at Fanta, my lover, warm, soft, and glowing in my lap.
“It can wait…”
“We’ve got all the time in the world.”
The End
