Your text comes in around 2 pm on a Thursday afternoon.
“Meet me here?” you write, followed by a map location.
“Sure,” I say.
It’s easy to slip away from the office, and soon I’m setting out to find the location you sent me. It’s a parking garage a few blocks away— across the street from your office, in fact— and I find you near the top, leaning against a concrete pillar. There are barely any cars around, which seems just ideal.
“You know,” I say as I approach, “I don’t think that’s what you were wearing when you left the house.”
It’s mostly true. From the waist up, you’re the consummate professional, with your hair swept up neatly into a bun. You’re wearing a button-down shirt, white with blue pinstripes, that perfectly compliments your demure frame. But instead of the slacks you’d normally be wearing, you’ve got on a black miniskirt with matching black heels, that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before.
“I know how to prepare,” you smile.
“You sure do.”
“I’ve been planning this for a little bit,” you admit. “Hardly anyone goes in or out of here in the afternoon, so we should have some time.”
“Time for what?”
By way of answer, you lift up your miniskirt to reveal the tail of your tucked-in shirt, but most importantly, your immaculately-trimmed landing strip.
“Hungry?” you ask.
“Famished,” I reply.
I move in to kneel in front of you, noticing for the first time that you’ve found a pillow— who knows from where— and laid it down in just the right spot. I know a good thing when I see one, and I kneel down on the pillow. I slide my hands up your bare legs, then around to cup your ass, and I pull you forward just a little bit. I lean my face in, and I can already smell your pussy. You shift your hips a little, and now I can see your lips, already swollen with excitement… and already glistening.
“I may have given myself a head start,” you say, as though you could read my mind.
Normally, I might savor the view and tease you for a while, but I’m on a mission, and without warning, I dive in and take a long lick up your pussy. You’re wetter than I thought, and soon my tongue is coated by your juices. I continue licking up your pussy, making my tongue as wide and flat as I can, before narrowing the tip just a little and focusing on one side of your lips at a time. First your right side, then your left, then back to the right. I slide my tongue between your inner and outer lips, playing my way through the folds. You let out an approving murmur that echoes, just a little, through the garage.
I bring my right hand back around, and slip two fingers inside your lips to spread them apart. I make one gentle lick inside the new opening, then without warning I dive in deeply with my tongue. Almost immediately, I grab your ass with both hands again and pull you towards me as you gasp. I stretch my tongue as far inside you as I can get it as your pussy drenches my face from my chin to my nose. I can’t help but let out a satisfied “mmmmm” as one of your hands— I can’t really tell which one— grips the back of my head.
I slide my tongue in and out of you rapidly, building a bit of a rhythm that I maintain for… well, it’s hard for me to say, really, but long enough for your hips to start rocking back and forth, just a little, in time. I pull back a little and take a few more long licks up your pussy, more forcefully this time, and after the last of these, I finally let my tongue settle in on the hood of your clit. I gently swirl the tip of my tongue around your hood a few times, then make another long lick before returning to your clit.
Now, it’s time to focus. I kiss your clit very lightly— not lightly enough to prevent you from moaning, but with as little force as I can manage. I kiss it again, and a third time, and this third time I part my lips and suck your clit into my mouth, feeling your hand spasm up against my head as I do so. I wash my tongue over your clit in broad strokes. I can feel the hard marble of your clit itself underneath the hood, and I rock my tongue back and forth over it, the indirect contact causing your whimpering to get louder and louder. If there’s someone else on another level of this parking garage, they’re probably going to be able to hear you, soon.
I release your clit from my mouth for a moment, then slide a hand back around, and with one finger, I peel back your hood to see the clit itself, pink, swollen, throbbing. I make the tip of my tongue into a point as best I can, and run it around your clit, over and over, and then I widen it out again to go from side-to-side. I keep alternating between the two motions, waiting for the right time to move into the final phases.
“Oh, *please*,” you moan, and that’s the trigger.
I pull your clit into my mouth again. It’s a gentle pull, enough to keep you in place, but not really sucking on you too hard. I start lapping at your clit itself with short, hard, strokes of my tongue, listening to your panting and moaning increase before you have to muffle yourself with your spare hand. I then start sliding my index finger up through your lips, picking up enough of your juices so that I can then slip inside. Once that’s done, I feel around for just a bit until I find the familiar spot, and start making the “come hither” motion you love so well, slowly at first, but with rapidly increasing speed. Soon, I’ve matched my tongue and my finger in the same relentless rhythm, driving into your clit, your pussy, over and over again.
“Don’t stop,” you whimper. “Please, don’t stop.”
Of course I won’t. I focus all of my attention into my mouth, my finger, my tongue. I press my face closer and closer, your scent overwhelming my senses with every bit of breath I can suck in.
“I’m… close…” you manage.
I bear down. My tongue has already started to tire, and my finger is cramping, but I won’t stop, I can’t stop, until—
“Ohhhhhh, ohhhhh, oh!”
Your orgasm sends your entire body rocking. You grab the back of my head to keep yourself anchored as you cry out, and I take a deep breath as I pull my head back to watch your pussy and asshole spasm as you come. It takes you a full minute to recover.
“That was amazing,” you pant.
“Well, you clearly needed it!”
I get to my feet. My face is absolutely coated in your pussy, but you pull me forward for a kiss, anyway.
“Oh, I definitely did. Now— let me grab my purse. I have a wet wipe you can use to get cleaned up before you go back to your office.
“Perfect! You really did think of everything, didn’t you?”
“Like I said, I’ve been planning it out for a bit. And based on how successful it was, I think we’ll be doing it again.”
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/82cai1/you_think_of_everything_mforalsemipublic