The Festival [MF]

I was excited to visit the literary festival, it may not be heavy on the erotica but being amongst writers and avid readers comes a close second.

And, most importantly, I knew he would be there. I’d admired his writing, a little awed but the quality. We’d exchanged messages, made vague plans for today.

I arrive on time, ticket in hand, plugged, summer dress, no bra, no knickers as instructed. The place is heaving with thousands of fellow festival goers. I make my way across the site, feeling my nipples graze on the thin material of my dress. Finding a seat in the refreshment marquee I partake in my favourite people watching hobby. Scanning the crowd, my eyes stop, there he is. He’s seen me and the connection is instantaneous. I feel my pussy contract and heat immediately. A visceral reaction to his stare. He nods subtly and I drop my hand and subtly graze my nails over my nipples. He watches my display, and unblinking sees me squirm. He smirks and checks his watch. The spell is broken and I also check the time, realising that I have to head to the first author talk, I look back up and he is gone.

I gather my belongings and head to the marquee, finding a seat towards the back. I open the programme and check the summary and as I do someone takes the seat next to me. I glance up and it is him, right here, right next to me. I stifle a gasp at the sudden overwhelming proximity. He says nothing, just smirks into his programme. His knee and thigh move imperceptibly and press themselves against mine. The heat and physicality send lightening up my legs. Such a simple movement and I’m a needy mess, my pussy wet and dripping down unhindered onto my thighs. The lights come down and we applaud the author’s entrance. I feel his left hand slide across my right, under the paper programme. He caresses my fingers gently and leans to my ear, he whispers
“Dip your fingers in that wet pussy, do it now”
My eyes widen at the request. A minute or so passes and I slide my hand under my flowing dress, slowly and subtly. The programme covering my modesty. I slide my finger over my slick lips and withdraw a shiny sopping wet finger. He slides his own hand over my wet finger, transferring the wetness from me to him. And immediately puts his hand to his nose and breaths deeply before licking me off his own fingers.
I am dumbstruck by such a publicly filthy act and more aroused than ever. He smirks again and settles down to listen to the author. Nothing more is said and I begin to wonder if I imagined it.

The talk wraps up and as the lights come up he stands abruptly and is gone. I sigh, wondering and doubting myself and follow the crowd out into the dusky field. As I pass the corner of the marquee I feel a hand around my wrist, firmly pulling me. I might’ve screamed but I didn’t, because I subconsciously knew it was him. In a second we are alone, in the shadows behind the canvas.
“You taste fucking delicious” he hisses into my ear “I want more”
“Take it” I whisper and he sinks to his knees, bunching my dress up around my hips and pressing his lips to my hot wet pussy. I feel his tongue separate my puffy lips and I tip my hips forward, urging his mouth to devour me. He suck and licks relentlessly as I fight to maintain my silence. My hands find the back of his head, pushing him into me, grinding and riding his face and my orgasm approaches.
“Oh fuck” I hiss as I cum and squirt all over his mouth and face. He pulls away triumphantly and stands and wraps his arms around my breathless frame.
“Cuddle in” he says and we stand motionless and quiet, my mouth finds his and I kiss him, tasting myself on his beard and lips, overwhelmed and giddy.

Minutes pass and it is time to go.
“Next time I’m going to fuck your face” he whispers in my ear between last longing kisses and we reluctantly part and return to reality. My walk back to the car a little wobbly and my smile undeniable.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/uzmphl/the_festival_mf