That Time With Bebe [m/f]

'Bebe?' I doubted. 'Bee-Bee?' 'Yes.' The unimpressed stare shot back at me. I had maybe two seconds to work my way back from this one. I mean, half of it was confusion – I was convinced I'd misheard: had her parents really had the foresight to add a French element to this already petite form now glaring up at me from behind the desk? 'And?' 'I never thought I'd hear a name that would make my heart skip a beat.'

To be fair, it wasn't just a line. No preparation. It just came to me. And it had skipped, though not at that moment. Her name was simply the cherry on top of the already incredibly cherried cake. No, it happened when I walked in to make the appointment. The dyed pink hair was the first hit, then the piercing blue eyes that cut through me, then the glinting cheekbones; the voice, welcoming me in but warning me that she'd heard it all before and not to even dare to think about fucking her.

Or, at least, to join the back of the queue She was definitely one of those girls who could have whoever she wanted; I was happy to be on that list, but there was no visible way onto it. Ah, fuck it – I won't draw that bit out: it wouldn't be a story sat here if it didn't end like that, would it? So I made small talk and felt like I was getting nowhere aside from making the appointment I'd actually come in the place to make. Then, a hint. A warmth to a smile that was creeping across her face. I can't remember how, exactly, it happened, but my time ended up being booked on her birthday. Shoes, I was told – often I feel this is just a default gift response, no matter how much it helps the stereotype. The conversation started to linger just that little longer than it need have been and I wanted to leave while I still had rhythm to add to it.

A walk in the park I stepped outside into the sunlit street and walked over to grab a coffee from the place a couple of doors down. It was just on the verge of being too warm, so I changed my mind and ordered an iced one. This all meant it took me a good ten minutes to reach the bus stop opposite the park, in time to miss the fucking thing. Oh, and in time for Bebe to miss it, too. 'Well, this is a pleasant surprise.' It was; I guess, sometimes, things just happen. I soon found out that she'd finished her shift and the, rather obvious, bus scenario. 'Shall we?' I gestured across the road. 'Sure, why not.' Another look Рone that asked if I was for real or not. I watched as her dainty, pointed feet placed themselves in front of one another. I stole myself to not reach out for her hand. I had to keep on the pace; why were we really walking around this fucking park, in the searing heat, with what was now an almost dull silence? I went back to my roots, and one of the things I'm best at: saying something with conviction, no matter how clich̩ or ridiculous, and meaning it. I stopped us both. 'Bebe, I want to find a spot away from this path, press you up against a tree, have your legs wrapped around me, and fuck you.' Yeah, she laughed. 'Are you for real?' I just looked back at her, watching as her pupils widened in realisation, narrowed with suspicion, and relaxed again. 'Fucking hell, you are, aren't you?' She looked back down the path we'd walked, grabbed my hand, and we headed for the edge of the woodland.

The grip of summer I love summer dresses; they unzip in all the right places and hike up in all the others. I lifted her and, as our moist lips came together for their first hungry kisses, my fingers deftly brought the straps down from her shoulders. I felt for a bra that wasn't there, finding only warm skin: I pushed her up against the cool, smooth bark to a startled exhale of breath. It was only then that I had the chance to look down. Down the line of her thin, long neck. Down the symmetry of her collar bones. Down to the most beautiful, eloquent breasts I'd seen. Their proud, soft pink nipples and palm sized shape, barely moving but for her quickening breathing. Bebe's sweat must've been tickling her like a feather as the slightest breeze from my lungs flowed like mercury over her chest. Her thighs twitched as they gripped my waist, my tongue's palate capturing the salty-sweet as it traced around the clammy skin; my lips, sticky and parched, finding the soft but firm nipples to satisfy their need. Her hands were in my hair and her nails found my neck as they gripped. Standing tall, I reached between us to release my dick from behind its cage. Leaning in, I reached around to support her ass. Tensing up, my fingers reached to curl the fabric of her panties away from her pussy. Pressing forward, I grasped at her cheeks, pulling them apart so the head of my throbbing cock could feel her for the first time. It was so hot. So sticky hot. Some was her wetness, some was her sweat, some the slipperiness from the heat alone. I eased my hips forward. Her lips, that had been dancing beneath my ear and jaw, broke away as I squeezed the first couple of my inches inside. I rocked back. I tried again, not so hard as to rush, but gently getting used to her and her to me. 'This better be…' But I didn't let her finish. I could feel something starting to drip down my length. I went for an almost full stroke. Her arms went tight around my neck. Her head flew back, mouth open: 'Fuck. Yes.' Then an almost growl struck out of her as her eyes came back to meet mine. I had found a rhythm, now, and her pussy was super heated. We were playing dare with our gaze. She was talking, low and between breaths, really filthy. I obliged. My left hand came up to encompass her throat. A light stricture applied, but not to shut her up – no, she was willing me to do it. My right index finger found her asshole and for the first time I found myself willing to tease it. 'Yes, go on,' she said,'give it to me, you fuck.' I didn't do everything she ordered. But I did take advantage of our personal lube to edge into her, up to the first bend in the finger. I could feel me on the other side. I could feel her hands in the small of my back. I bit down into her shoulder. My breath splaying out the sides of my mouth. Her curled finger struck my chin back up… 'I want to see it,' Bebe winked.

Strangers come harder I released my hold and let her down; we turned so my back could feel the cool of the bark. Now knelt, the tip of her tongue ran up the underside of my shaft and flicked across the head. With a lick of lips, she oozed an <em>mmmmm</em> and a <em>yummy</em> that only a voice like hers could have done. She strained to take me into her mouth. I'm not going to brag about being a big dick guy, because I'm not quite there, but I have good girth and I love seeing a girl, looking up at me – in this case with fiery pink hair and those sapphire eyes – with her lips stretched around my cock. She popped it in and out, each time her tongue swirling around in a fast, violent circle. Her nails under my shirt scoring at my torso. As much as I loved it, I loved her pussy more. Pulling her up by the undersides of her arms, she added a spring to a leap with her hands once more wrapped around my neck. I nestled my elbows, this time, under her knees, in a near reverse of what we'd had but minutes previously. But this was so much better. Seizing her ass, I buried my pulsing cock back into her. We found the sweet spot for a swinging motion. I was out by all but the tip on the up and, what felt like, deeper inside her pussy on the down. Each slam, for it was a slam, had her let out a muzzled <em>fuck</em> and me feel like I would explode against the grip of her sex. And, then, as unique as she was, she whispered, an inch from my face: 'I'm coming, so don't fucking…stop.' I felt the ripples through her. Her thighs into my arms. Her ass into my hands. Her stomach and hips into mine. Her breath into the air around us. And the unrivalled contractions of her pussy on my dick. But I didn't stop. And she wasn't done. Bebe leant back slightly and brought her fingers down to play with her clit. I had a first real look at the smoothness of her pubic skin, glistening in our stickiness. I slowed, focusing on how long the strokes into her were. Feeling those lips gliding up and down me. I was lifting her more, now, as she concentrated on grabbing at my dick and rubbing herself without so much as a missed beat. 'Come on,' with a silky snarl, 'let me feel you come.' She moaned at me. My hands slid up further under her dress, looking for a hold on the curve of her hips. 'Fuck.' I exhaled with each thrust. 'Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!' My knees sank lower as I came. The heat stunning out of me and mixing ever more so with her. She didn't stop, although I had to, and brought her mouth to my ear. 'Strangers…come…harder.' And with that, she came again. Softer. A slower, trembling orgasm that I felt through my whole body. We kissed. We held one another. I pulled her straps back to her shoulders, renewed the zip's tight embrace, and she stood up. I hadn't noticed that I'd been bare sitting on the ground, so I followed suit and corrected my clothes.

'I better go get cleaned up,' I announced to no one in particular. 'Why? Do you not fancy a drink?'

Bebe wasn't about to let things end there; who was I to argue?

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Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/3bso1g/that_time_with_bebe_mf