Wet Grass, Wet Thoughts (L)

The sun beat down on my bare skin, turning my thighs a deep, glistening red. The lace of my dress, a pale imitation of innocence, clung to my breasts, hinting at the curves beneath. It was a deliberate choice, a cruel tease meant to amplify the anticipation. I sat on the edge of our property line, overlooking the fields, the scent of damp earth and wildflowers filling the air. The breeze ruffled the hem of the dress, creating a playful dance that mirrored the restless energy within me.

I had dressed specifically for you, wanting to feel both beautiful and utterly exposed. The black lace panties, thin and clinging, stretched taut between my legs, already saturated with the sticky anticipation of what was to come. It was a silent invitation, a declaration of my readiness.

You watched, didn’t you? I could feel your eyes on me, a silent command pulling me deeper into this game of desire. The anticipation was a tangible thing, a hot current flowing through my veins. It wasn’t just about the physical pleasure; it was about the power dynamic, the control you wielded, the delicious vulnerability I embraced.

“Do you like this?” I murmured, my voice barely audible above the rustle of the leaves. “You want to see what’s underneath?” The question hung in the air, a silent challenge. I wanted to see your reaction, to witness the raw hunger in your gaze, to know that you were craving this moment just as much as I was.

You responded, didn't you? A subtle shift in your focus, a quickening of your pulse. I could sense the tremor in your hand as you reached over, your fingertips brushing against your pants. A tiny, hesitant touch, a hesitant beginning.

“Just a little,” I prompted, my voice soft and suggestive. “Let me earn it.” As you continued to stroke, slowly and deliberately, my body responded, muscles tensing, breathing quickening. The anticipation built, layering upon itself like a delicious sin.

I reached behind me, my fingers working the zipper of the dress, pulling it down slowly, teasingly. One strap slipped down my shoulder, revealing the delicate curve of my breast beneath. Then the other, the lace a fragile barrier between you and the raw sensation beneath. It was a calculated move, designed to heighten your desire, to amplify the heat that was building within me.

“Do you like these tits, daddy?” I whispered, tilting my head back, showing you the full extent of my exposed curves. The sunlight caught the glistening sweat, turning my skin into a shimmering canvas of desire. “You wanna fuck them again? You remember how sticky they got last time?” A giggle escaped my lips, a playful hint of the pleasure to come.

As you continued to stroke, I shifted my weight, pulling my dress down further, revealing more of the lace-trimmed panties. The wetness was becoming more pronounced, a visible testament to the mounting excitement. I ran a finger along the edge of the fabric, teasing myself as much as you.

“I bet your cock’s leaking already,” I murmured, my voice laced with amusement. You’re not denying it, are you? The anticipation is too strong, the desire too overwhelming.

I reached for the jar, my fingers brushing against the cool glass. Inside lay the cum-flavored lubricant, a decadent treat designed to enhance the experience, to make it even more intense. I dipped my fingers into the thick, viscous liquid, coating them in its rich, salty aroma.

“You ready, baby?” I asked, holding up my dripping fingers for you to see. “Because now I’m ready to make you stroke.” The words hung in the air, a promise of pleasure and pain, of submission and domination.

As you moved closer, your hand finding its mark, my body responded, tensing, arching, yearning for the touch of your cock. The heat intensified, radiating outwards, consuming everything in its path. It was a primal urge, a desperate need that demanded release.

You obeyed, didn’t you? You took your cock out, pulling it free from the confines of your trousers. The sight was both shocking and exhilarating, a blatant display of your desire. You began to stroke, slowly at first, then with increasing intensity, your hand tracing the contours of my shaft, exploring every inch of its sensitivity.

Watching you, my body writhed with anticipation, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The pleasure was building, a crescendo of sensation that threatened to overwhelm me. I closed my eyes, surrendering to the moment, letting go of all control.

“Spit on it for me,” I commanded, my voice a low, throaty whisper. As you followed my instructions, spitting thick, salty droplets onto my clitoris, a wave of pleasure washed over me, sending shivers down my spine. It was an act of intimacy, a shared experience that transcended words.

I shifted my position, spreading myself wide, allowing you to fully immerse yourself in the pleasure of my body. My fingers danced along your shaft, teasing, caressing, pushing you closer to the brink. The anticipation was almost unbearable, the desire reaching a fever pitch.

“Mmmfffuck, look at this, baby,” I moaned, arching my back, my tits bouncing as you continued to stroke. “I’m soaking. All for you.” It was a declaration of submission, a surrender to your control, a testament to the power of our connection.

As you continued to pump, the first thick rope launched, a torrent of cum erupting from your shaft, showering my body in its salty embrace. It was a moment of pure ecstasy, a release of pent-up desire that left me gasping for air.

“God, yes,” I cried out, clutching your hand, begging for more. “Cover me next time, daddy. Let me swallow every drop. I want your cum on my face, my tits, my tongue—everywhere.” The words were a plea, a desperate longing for the ultimate experience, a complete and utter immersion in pleasure.

You continued to pump, pushing your body against mine, our movements synchronized in a dance of passion and dominance. The heat intensified, radiating outwards, consuming everything in its path. It was a primal urge, a desperate need that demanded release.

As you reached the peak of your pleasure, a final, monumental eruption of cum escaped from your shaft, coating my body in a thick, glistening layer. It was a moment of pure bliss, a release of all inhibitions, a surrender to the raw, untamed power of desire.

With a final, desperate moan, I lost control, collapsing onto the ground, my body writhing in ecstasy. The world faded away, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of pleasure, the intoxicating scent of cum, the feeling of being completely and utterly consumed by you.

As you continued to caress my body, my senses heightened, my breathing becoming shallow, my mind lost in the depths of pleasure. It was a perfect moment, a culmination of desire, a testament to the power of our connection.

And as you finally pulled away, leaving me breathless and trembling, I knew that this was just the beginning. The memory of this moment, this shared experience, would forever remain etched in my mind, a potent reminder of the intoxicating pleasure we had found together.

Now you, darling. It’s your turn.

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