Winning [M/F] [Public]

You’re waiting for me to show up. I told you I’d be wearing a white dress, so you’re looking through the crowd to see if you can spot me. It’s an odd first date, you think. The picnic idea is okay – but a first date on a holiday? Not exactly your idea of a romantic first date… Independence Day. You keep scoping the crowd.

Then you see me. I’m standing there, wearing a white sun dress, halter style with a full skirt. You can see my nipples through the material. The sun has lit my hair brilliant red, and I’m smiling. A large picnic basket is at my feet, and I have a quilt in my arms. As you walk toward me, you see my expression is a bit chagrined. I’m wearing red high heeled sandals.

“Hi.” My voice is on the breathless side. “It’s kind of heavy…” I look at the basket.

“It’s okay, Ma’am, I can get it for you.”

At those words, you see a thrill pass through me – my cheeks grow pink, my eyes brighter, my lips just a bit more bee-stung. It must be the “Ma’am”, you think. My nipples poke out a little more.

You let me pick out the spot – you’re carrying the basket (it is heavy), I’m carrying the quilt. As I wander further away from where the fireworks will be set off, you think I have no idea how to pick the right place. You don’t want to say anything, because this is our first meeting, and you don’t want to wreck the mood. I’m smiling, and every time I look at you, I’m looking up through my eyelashes… You are convinced I have no idea what I’m doing. The spot I choose is behind a tree. Actually, a couple of trees… The view will be spoiled. Maybe you can persuade me to move once the fireworks start.

I spread out the quilt, and sit on it.

“I hope you like everything,” I say.

“I will, Ma’am.”

Already you like the way I’m sitting there, my chest puffed out a bit, my dress giving you a peek of leg. You set the basket down and sit next to me. You want to put your arm around me. You really want to lay me down on the quilt…

I open the basket.

“I made everything from scratch but the fried chicken,” I say.

I take the plates out – china plates. There is real silverware, two glasses. Tucked in the corner is what appears to be a bottle of wine. No wonder the basket was heavy! I notice the amused look on your face.

“I just wanted this to be special.”

Pretty soon you have a plate piled with food: fried chicken, baked beans, potato salad, ambrosia. I pull out the bottle.

“Will we get in trouble for drinking here?” I ask.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

I give you a coy look.

“It’s a good thing I brought these glasses then…”

They are opaque blue water glasses. I pull out a corkscrew.

“Is that wine?” you ask.

“No. Peach beer!” I say that with a sunny smile, clearly enjoying myself. I’m a rebel in a sun dress. “Beer goes with the Fourth of July. Wine doesn’t.” I use the opposite end of the corkscrew to pop the cap from the bottle.

You can tell what I brought is home made. There is a depth of flavor in everything that doesn’t come from a box. You have the feeling each dish must have a closely guarded secret ingredient – I’m watching your face as you eat. Even the chicken isn’t bad.

“This is really great, hun,” you say.

I move closer, slipping my hand around your arm, my fingers grazing your side – and I hug your arm close. You can feel me trembling slightly. It’s a warm day, but you ask:

“Are you cold?”

I lean into you, my breast on your shoulder, so I can whisper, my lips grazing your ear:

“I’m not wearing any panties.”

It’s suddenly hard for you to keep your food on the plate. I sit back down, smiling like the cat who caught the canary.

“I hope you don’t mind,” I say.

“No, not at all. I like it.” You clear your throat. “I like the way you think.”

I sip my peach beer. You realize I haven’t touched my food.

“You aren’t hungry?” you ask.

I smile.

“Of course I’m hungry. Just not for food…”

I blow you a kiss.

You are so hot now and it will be at least an hour before dark falls. You realize that everything I do is calculated to make you even hotter. When I pour more beer in your glass, I stand on my knees and lean over the glass so you get a nice long look down my cleavage. When I move to sit at the opposite corner of the quilt, I pull my dress up just a bit. I lie on my side, propped on an elbow, my sandals off. I pick a piece of fruit out of the ambrosia and put it in my mouth. I suck my finger. I play with my hair. I sit up. I sit cross-legged, giving you a peek at my pussy. I even lie on my back, one hand beneath my head, the other on my ribs. You want to come right over to me and take me right then, but it’s still too light out – and people are walking by. Not many, but enough that you can’t just fuck me right there.

“You’re awfully quiet,” I say. “I have a good idea… You wanna wrestle?”

“Wrestle?”

“Sure,” I say. “Just lie down, and I’ll show you.”

I pick up the basket and move it off the quilt –

“Don’t want this in the way,” I say with a little smile.

You lie down in the middle of the quilt. My dress pulled up a bit, I walk over to you on my knees.

“It’s easy,” I say in a low voice.

I put my leg over you and straddle you. I lean forward.

I whisper: “Take it out, baby.”

You reach under the hem of my dress and unfasten your jeans, pulling your cock out. It’s hard as a rock. I pull my dress out, making it spill around us.

“Take my hands.” My voice is barely more than a breath.

I hold out my hands, and you reach for them. Our fingers interlace, and I grip you hard. I move my hips. You can feel my pussy lips graze the head of your cock. They’re shaven, slippery and hot. I sit back slowly, your cock going into me one excruciating inch at a time until my pussy reaches the base of your belly. You bite back a moan. My face is all pink now, my eyes hot and shiny. I start to milk you with my pussy, my muscles massaging you, and my juices are all over your cock and belly. You can see my titties quiver, and my arms are covered with goose bumps. Tremors pass through my whole body as I work. You can even feel the cheeks of my ass shaking. I grip your hands even tighter, and push them down closer to you.

“What are you doing?” a voice asks.

A confused-looking older man is staring at us.

I say, “We’re wrestling.”

He stands there a moment, considering, and then says to me, “I think you’re winning.”

We try not to laugh. We’re looking at each other’s face, trying not to laugh. Someone yells “Dad” and he leaves. The fireworks are about to start.

The first test rocket goes up with a loud whoomp. You feel the sound vibrate through the ground. It’s dark and all eyes are fixed on the sky. I start to move my hips in earnest, rocking back and forth. You thrust up into me, groaning. I let go of your hands and massage your nipples. You grab my hips, pushing and pulling them. The sky is lit with one after another explosion of light. I bounce on top of you, still rocking my hips. You reach under my dress and find my clit, rolling it with your finger.

“Oh, god, give it to me,” I beg. “Please.”

“Baby, I want you from behind,” you say.

I climb off, my eyes fixed on you, still on my knees. You come around behind me and kneel. You sit back on your heels and guide me back onto you. We’re facing the fireworks, looking at the backs of the people watching the fireworks. You tangle your fingers in my hair and turn my head for a kiss as you fuck me. Our faces are lit with each explosion – I close my eyes as I feel your tongue deep in my mouth. You thrust into me, each thrust a little harder, until I’m moaning. You start pounding me hard with your cock. One of my tits comes out of my dress – I pick up your hand and put it on my naked tit. With your free hand, you scoop my other tit out of my dress and you massage them hard as you plunge into me.

The fireworks cover our moans. Every ooh and ah from the people just makes us that much hotter. Your skin is on fire from the sensations around you. Your head falls back as your back arches – you’re fucking me fast now.

There is a succession of loud pops. It’s the finale. The sky explodes, and smoke from the fireworks spreads like a storm cloud. It’s loud like thunder, and the earth trembles beneath us. I am on all fours now, and you are driving into me, feeling my pussy clutch your cock. One orgasm after another pours through me. My breath is ragged, my body shudders. You pull my head around for another kiss. You want to kiss me while you come. My hair is sweaty. My lips are swollen when you cover them with yours. Fireworks are still pounding the sky as you empty your come into me.

We fall onto the quilt, and you think of pulling it over us – just in time. People start packing up their things and heading for their cars. As they pass, they give us a glance: lovers lying peaceful under the smoky night sky.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/bix1yx/winning_mf_public