Sex outside hightens all sensations-Kayaking [mf] [public] [oral] [Str8]

I pace along the white line of the parking lot, wondering if I’ll recognize him when he pulls up. I’ve only ever seen limited angles of his face, the ones that he chooses to show when we snap. His dick I’d recognize. I snuffle a laugh at the thought of having to pick him out of a lineup. “Sir, please remove your pants so the lady can identify you.” God, he has me tripping down a path to quantum crazy.

I chip at the electric blue polish on my fingernails. “Where are you?” I whisper.

People, cars, and boats crawl across the hot asphalt of this boat ramp, crowding my vision. It’s a beautiful summer day, and we’re all ready to be out on the lake.

The impatience shakes my right foot when a vapor of baby pink washes into my peripheral vision. My eyes track his unhurried stride. He wore the pink shirt, the one from the picture. It clings to his torso and outlines the taper from his shoulders to waist. My circuits bog down and my brain re-boots as I mentally tread water. On idiot auto-pilot, I raise my hand and wave like a toddler at him. As soon as I realize it, I cover my mouth as I cringe at my level of jackassery. “Holy shit, would you get it together?” I mock myself quietly.

He had already targeted me, long before that shitstravaganza of a wave because I’m the only woman standing in the middle of the parking lot.

I shake my head at him and bite back a smile to keep the embarrassment from crawling up my spine.

He smiles. And it’s a good one, like feeding kids during a famine, or the world opening up again from COVID kind of good. It crinkles the corners of his eyes and beats back the remnants of awkwardness.

This time, I’m going to let him see the real me. Painfully positive, a little bit goofy, someone that carries around a megaton of love for everyone. Okay, I’m a 3-gallon serving of rediculous in a 2-gallon bucket. It’s likely gonna get a bit sloppy, but we’ll have fun cleaning up.

We’ve never met in person, but we have had orgasms together. Sure, this is the normal order for him, but it’s a backass order I’ve never experienced. It’s 1 part awesome to 10 part terrifying.

He doesn’t hide that he takes me all in as he walks forward. “Hi,” he says from feet away. His voice is smokey and liquid, a diabolical combination.

Instinctively, I lift my arms. A hug is a default setting for a southern, and I’m a wildly enthusiast hugger. Like seriously, I hope he understands that if this continues, I will wear him like a fucking coat most of the time—also, it’s an excuse to grope those apex shoulders of his covertly.

“Hey,” I say back.

I expect a first “hello” kiss where the pulsing excitement is buried under a concoction of insecurity and unknown. Instead, when his lips graze against mine, his hot breath hits them first before he takes my bottom lip between his. Then I feel his hands skim my ponytail before winding my long hair around his fist. The tug tilts my head and opens my mouth. Fuck. He kisses me, and there’s an ethereal quality to it. It has this rhythmic pattern to it, all low and fluttery. I’d chase that feeling certain it is the pathway to enlightenment.

“Hi, baby,” he says as I stare blankly at him, accidentally slipping into that weird pre-sleep dream state.

“I don’t want to go out on the kayak anymore. I want to take you to my place,” I blurt.

He shakes his head and smirks mischievously. “Nope. I want to see this island you told me about.” Spotting the kayak stand, he ambles toward it. “Coming?” He asks over his shoulder, cockily.

“Not, yet,” I tease back, and follow you down the wooded path to the lake. If I have to go, at least the view is good from behind.

Two can play this game. I rip off my tank top and fluff and adjust my boobs into their perkiest position in my bikini top. I push the fleshy skin toward the center of deep v and rub my hands quickly across each nipple. I picked this bathing suit top because it ties behind the neck, exposes my back, and helps me show my cleavage.

At the kayak rack, he turns. “Which one?”

I wait for him to see me. Your raised eyebrows do not disappoint, nor does the idea of unraveling the fire behind those eyes.

I have the upper hand for at least ¼ of a second before he reaches behind his neck and pulls the fabric over his head.

*Dammit, man*! I can’t compete with those abs! I’ve been working on a 1” band of pudge that lies between my belly button and bikini bottom for years. I’m pretty sure I could go a full week without food and this stubborn bastard of an apocalypse survival fat pouch will still be mocking me.

I can’t help myself. He threw the gauntlet, and can’t resist the million-year-old instinct to *try* to assert dominance. I kick off my shorts while staring him in the eye. I turn around to show him my butt, “Ass or tits?” I ask.

“Yes, please,” he answers.

I’m vibing what is firing between us as I help him lift the kayak down and lug it to the water. It’s easy for him, but it takes all my strength. We load our stuff, and even though the drop off is steep, we float it out smoothly. I follow him into the water.

About the time I’m feeling an intoxicating potion of sexy and badass, gravity targets me for humility training. I take a step, but instead of finding solid ground, my foot careens into a bottomless hole, and I go down like I’ve taken a head kick from Connor Mcgregor. A flurry of jibbers syllables jettisons from my mouth, staccato- style before I face plant into the drink.

There is nothing sexy about this shit show, and unfortunately, no risk of drowning in 3 feet of water.

Reflexively, his fingers close on my arm, and he pulls me up.

Sexy is long gone. Now, I’m just striving to survive this lightening fast nonsense. I stagger to stand when righted. A laugh overtakes me as I wipe my face. It starts small at first, but then it grows into a cackle, shaking my shoulder as I wheeze out my breath.

A chuckle rumbles from deep inside of him as he grabs me and holds me tightly to his chest. My skin is icy wet, sharply contrasted by the heat of his. Goosebumps skitter across my skin. When he laughs, it vibrates from his chest and across my face.

“You sure you want to paddle out in 350 feet of water with me, the human magnetic for mayhem?” I ask.

Rolling his lips, he nods. “Take me to your favorite place.” The slight tilt to his eyebrow confirms that there will be some underwater play when we get there, so I nod my agreement

He’s never seen this lake and gets lost in the scenery as we paddle out. Blue mountains rim the far side, and I chatter random things as we sync up our movements. He does most of the work from the back, the deeper, more powerful strokes to drive us forward.

Instead of beaching the kayak on the sherbert colored sand crystals, he drops a shallow anchor for the kayak to float. I’ve waited long enough to get my hands on him, and as soon as we get in to swim, all of the potential energy turns kinetic as my hands and fingers desperately explore his body under the water. And there is an exhilaration about it because boats cruise by, circling with tubers—jet skis race around the landmass.

The heat of our sun-warmed skin, the cool of the water, the lightning flashing through my veins…it crashes over me with the rippling water.

“I want to eat you out as you lay on the kayak,” he moans into my ear as he pulls my fingers from rubbing his cock.

I bark out a laugh. “Have you seen how gravitationally challenged I am? And you want me to try to teeter on the needle-pointed, floating, electric-yellow kayak?”

“I got you… if you want to,” he chokes down a laugh.

The saliva sticks at the back of my throat as my heart takes off at a gallop.

He kisses my neck, thumbing over my nipples under the fabric of my top as he waits for my answer.

My brain is foggy, my drunk-ass brain cells having a mid-day happy hour. I’ll be spread eagle on a floating, bobbing, plastic kayak as the rest of the boating world orbits us.

As my answer, I slide my thumbs into the elastic at my hips and shimmy the fabric down, making sure my ass presses into his solid shaft.

As soon as I kick up the fabric into my hand, he scoops me up and lowers me onto the bow of the kayak. It’s exhilarating to straddle the warm plastic point. His legs are between mine as he devours my mouth. I reach behind my neck and untie my top, feeling the fabric drag across my tits. First, the breeze licks across the surface of my nipples, and then I get to experience the straight fire of his mouth.

“Fuck,” he growls under his breath as he holds my hand to help me lower myself back.

The designers of this rocking hunk of plastic did not run the surface logistics for what we have planned. My wet ass barely fits on the tapered front, and my cheeks hydroplane from side to side across the beviled, slick plastic. Every correction in motion catapults me faster and harder in the other direction. I start to giggle at my lack of coordination. I’m an athlete and typically in control of my body, so this embarrassment taste like pain.

Before I can launch off the edge in a back flop spiral, he grips the side of the kayak to frame me in. He’s grinning like a jack-o-lantern as I grip his forearms to steady myself, wrapping my legs around his butt, and digging my heels in to hold on. “Holy shit, you may need better health insurance to handle my kind of spicy,” I tease.

“Reach above your head and grab the rim,” he coaches as he uses his forearms to center my spine along the peak of the bow.

I reach behind and find the plastic lip with both hands and close my fists around the hard surface. My back is contoured to the plastic, my boobs arched to the sky. I won’t be able to let go without losing my balance, and I can see in his eyes that this was always his plan.

He uses one hand to tease across my skin. He drags his fingertips softly down my neck and across my chest, grazing across the side of my boob, but never quite touching me where I need to feel the pressure. He twirls them across my belly; feather touches down my thighs.

“I need your lips on me,” I whisper to him. As he leans forward, I become faintly aware of the sound of a boat. My head shifts to look in the direction of the noise

He pivots the kayak in the water, placing his body as a barrier to oncoming traffic. Leaning forward to kiss me, he tells me, “They’re too far away. I’ll watch because I don’t have any plans to share with anyone. Do you trust me?”

I nod as he kisses me, mouth, then tits, and finally, he wraps his arms around my hips to steady me before licking straight up my center. The breeze is his coconspirator and laps up the moister he leaves peppered across my body. I hold my head up for as long as my muscles will allow me to watch him sexily swirl his tongue around me, loving the way he stares back.

My hips grind against him; he matches my cadence. His fingers slide in and out, thumb and tongue taking turns to circle my clit until my legs begin to shake, and I clinch against his fingers.

I motion for him to help me up because he’s turned me into a wet noodle with no muscle control. I wrap my body around him, climbing him like a koala bear, kissing him as he drags me into the water in his arms. “I want you inside of me now,” I say, stroking down his length.

He turns my back to his chest and faces us toward the big open views and boating traffic. I feel him stretch me as he slides in from behind. My head bends forward and back arches as he slowly bottoms out in me. His hands kneed the skin on my ass and the slapping of his thighs against my butt echos across the water.

His thumb circles my asshole, and I nod as he slides it in. In and out, spirals of motion that speed up my heart. The boats clambering by barely muffle my moans as he drives into me. I throw my hips back to meet him, in sync like we paddle. Deeper. Faster. Louder. I rub my cilt as I get close and scream his name out across the lake before he dumps his load into me. Kayaking is my favorite thing.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/hc4xzf/sex_outside_hightens_all_sensationskayaking_mf