Blind Date, Midnight Drive

The rain hammered against the windows of my penthouse apartment, mirroring the insistent throb in my own veins. It was Amelia’s birthday, and I wanted to give her a night she wouldn't soon forget. Not just a dinner reservation at some fancy restaurant, or a lavish gift, but a primal, raw experience that would ignite every fiber of her being. So, I crafted a meticulously planned surprise, a descent into pleasure that began with the scent of roses and culminated under the pale glow of the moon on a forgotten football field.

I started by meticulously selecting her favorite flowers, a vibrant bouquet of crimson roses and lilies, their perfume filling the room as I prepared breakfast in bed. Freshly squeezed orange juice, fluffy pancakes drizzled with maple syrup, and a steaming cup of her preferred dark roast coffee – every detail was carefully considered, designed to set the stage for the night’s intended performance. The day continued with a leisurely lunch on the beach, the salty air and the warmth of the sun playing on our skin as we basked in each other's company. Later, we caught a captivating play, hand-in-hand, lost in the world of the actors and their stories. As the final curtain fell, a mischievous glint sparked in my eyes. It was time for the real surprise.

Pulling a silk blindfold from my briefcase, I wrapped it gently around her head, concealing her eyes and plunging her into a delicious, anticipatory darkness. With a smile, I ushered her into my sleek, black sports car, the leather seats molding to her curves as I pulled out of the driveway. The rain continued its relentless assault, washing away the city’s noise and creating an atmosphere of perfect intimacy.

As we drove, Amelia’s anticipation grew, fueled by the unknown destination and my silent promise of something extraordinary. The darkness outside was thick, broken only by the occasional flash of lightning illuminating the rain-slicked roads. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we arrived at our destination: a deserted football field, bathed in the eerie glow of a full moon. It was a scene straight out of a fever dream, a place where passion and desire could run rampant without fear of judgment.

I parked the car, the engine dying down to a low rumble, and stepped out into the damp night air, pulling a plush, oversized blanket from the trunk. A bottle of her favorite Cabernet Sauvignon, chilled to perfection, and a collection of battery-powered candles, casting a flickering, sensual light, completed the setup. The field itself was immaculate, the green grass stretching out before us like a vast, inviting canvas.

As I approached her, she struggled slightly against the blindfold, her breath coming in short, excited gasps. I gently eased the fabric away from her face, revealing her wide, bewildered eyes and her flushed cheeks. A slow smile spread across my face as I took in her astonished expression – the perfect reaction to the unexpected turn of events.

I quickly shed my suit jacket and tie, revealing the sculpted physique beneath. A tight-fitting gym shirt emphasized my broad shoulders, bulging biceps, and a washboard stomach. My briefs, barely containing the power beneath, added to the visual spectacle, a silent invitation to the pleasure that awaited.

She let out a small gasp, her eyes tracing the contours of my body. I offered her a glass of wine, the ruby liquid swirling in the candlelight, and we settled onto the blanket, sharing a slow, deliberate kiss. The taste of her lips, sweet and intoxicating, sent shivers down my spine. We talked, reminiscing about our shared memories, our laughter mingling with the sound of the rain. But as the conversation subsided, a primal hunger began to build within me, an insistent need to fulfill the desires simmering beneath the surface.

I reached out, gently pulling her skirt up between her legs, my fingers tracing the curve of her thigh. "Do you want anything special for your birthday?" I murmured, my voice low and husky. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she replied, "I need a birthday kiss."

With a playful grin, I moved closer, my lips hovering just above her slit. She leaned into my touch, her body trembling with anticipation. "No, not up there," she whispered, pulling me down. She opened her panties and moved her mouth to my slit, claiming her pleasure first. Her weight pressed against my chest, her clitoris a sensitive, insistent presence against my tongue.

She straddled my mouth, her hands gripping my shoulders, pulling me closer. I could feel her heat radiating against my skin, her breath hot and ragged on my face. Her hands began to explore my body, tracing the lines of my muscles, her nails digging into my flesh as she found her rhythm. The rain continued its relentless assault, but it faded into the background as we lost ourselves in the moment.

As she began to climb higher, her hips grinding against mine, I moved her skirt further up, deepening the pleasure. Her moans grew louder, more urgent, as she succumbed to the raw, unbridled desire. I knew she was loving it, her body writhing with ecstasy, and I refused to pull back, determined to fulfill her every need.

I kept moving my tongue, sliding it across her clitoris, teasing and tantalizing her with each stroke. Her body arched against mine, her hips thrusting with increasing force. The scent of her perfume filled the air, mixing with the earthy aroma of the rain-soaked grass. I let her go, allowing her to explore her own pleasure, as long as she wanted, and she wanted it badly. I maintained my grip on her body, my muscles tensing with anticipation, as she reached new heights of sensation.

Each time she came, I felt a surge of heat course through my veins, my body hard and responsive to her every movement. It was a reciprocated pleasure, a shared experience that deepened our connection in a way I had never imagined. Her pleasure became my pleasure, and vice versa. I continued to stroke and lick her clitoris, each touch intensifying her ecstasy, until finally, she let out a final, desperate gasp.

As she collapsed against me, exhausted but satisfied, I couldn't hold back any longer. With a primal roar, I came myself, losing control in the depths of our shared pleasure. My body shook with the force of my orgasm, my muscles convulsing as I released the pent-up energy. When it was over, we lay there, breathless and intertwined, the rain still falling around us, our bodies slick with sweat and desire.

Looking up, we saw a few figures standing in the stands, alerted by the commotion, but they quickly dispersed, leaving us alone in our private paradise. I chuckled, a low, satisfied sound. "Well, it's been a while since we caught a football game," I said, gesturing to the empty field. She smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let's meet back here for Friday's game," she whispered, leaning in to kiss me again. As we pulled away, I knew that this night, this shared experience, would forever be etched in my memory, a testament to the power of desire and the intoxicating allure of a stolen moment under the watchful gaze of the moon. The rain continued to fall, washing away the evidence of our passion, but the memory of our encounter would linger long after the last drop had evaporated.

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Blind Date, Midnight Drive

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