Risque public sex, including lush arse play
Sweeping blonde Cassandra Hudson felt excited, and it had nothing to do with Sebastian's best-concentrated efforts.
The guy was powering away, maximising thrust and pull and keeping his eyes on her simultaneously.
Ms Hudson wasn't a complete bitch and would let him have his pleasure.
After all, he had brought flowers to her door on their first date and suggested boating on the local park lake.
It was the first day of the season. There was still a bit of a chill even in the early afternoon, but Cassie hadn't done the lake before.
They were approaching the middle of the small park lake, and she opened her legs teasingly from her forward bench seat. She had on a red floral dress; it was only technically Spring.
Her thighs, inner and outer, were a tad cold.
Hey, Seb might get lucky and be the one to warm them up in his car after a circuit or two of the lake.
She felt the breezy sweep of air between her legs.
Drat, it wasn't a day for skimpy black lacey underwear.
She momentarily recalled the cold, arsed feel of the metal seat from when they had left the mooring site a few minutes ago.
They were one of only two boats on the water. The other had a couple of older tourists on board.
Cassie was a bit uncomfortable. Cold is not randy. Bodies need warmth and touch.
Seb was rowing faster now, really upping the stroke rate.
He stroked in time with the sexy opening and closing of Cassie's legs.
The poor sod couldn't work this girl out. He had asked and asked her out and then given up.
Then she texted,' What are you doing Saturday?' and he had-technically a date.
Cassie was just at a loose end. Her steady fuck buddy Daniel was away on business for a few days. A rich limp-pricked James, trying to get in her pants, had failed to get her an invite to an exclusive beachside party he had promised for Saturday.
So, Cassandra, in a moment of weakness, thought Seb.
Then, Saturday morning, James' had phoned, saying he had tickets for a hosted murderer mystery night for Halloween at an ex-funeral parlour. The word was they were risqué and secretly hot.
James, Cassie realised, thought he might get lucky.
How long could she string him along without a hand job?
Time would tell. If the whodunnit night went well, he might get a blow job.
The lustful thought of getting it off in a funeral parlour, well, even a decommissioned one, was arousing her.
Seb thought his gentlemanly charm at the other end of the boat made the girl flirt very openly with him. He had no idea what filthy thoughts were in the young blonde head and that her smutty daydreams had nothing to do with him.
She spread her legs wider than a store window display to reveal her scanty knickers. So tight they defined her delicate labia resting crumpled against the silky stretch mesh decorated with translucent butterflies.
Cassie Hudson sighed, realising Daniel wasn't here. The mystery night was a fair way off, and poor Seb had a boner in his pants at the other end of the dinghy.
"Do you like what you see?" said Ms Hudson.
Seb's uncertainty about Cassie floated away, and his confidence soared like his cock.
He got back, "I can get us over to those bushes at the curve."
Cassie looked around...yeah, a park bush fuck…she hadn't done that…her excitement escalated, and she pulled her panties to one side and gave Sebastian the view guy's crave; up short skirt shaved available pussy.
The young man got more than a guy usually gets accidentally or on purpose because the blonde minx spread her fleshy pinkness with her fingers. The lure set for his cock. The guy can see it, but he's not getting it yet!
Fuck rowing was the last non-primal thought that passed through Seb's mind as the boat rocked wildly as he jerked up into the front of the boat too.
Cassie, who thought she had time to control the guy and drive him wild till they hit the shore, was now unzipping pecker and taking head in the middle of the lake.
Seb's fingers squelched around in her moistness, warming up her thighs. His other hand was under her dress and bra, rubbing her nipples.
Cassie sucked, sure and steady, as she built his cock to bursting point.
However, the small craft wobbled unstable with their frenzied intensity.
They manoeuvred their young bodies somehow without capsizing, and Cassie's sweet, scanty panties were a trophy, swung like a mini sail in Sebastian's hand.
The guy was quickly under her on the seat, and Cassie, with her dress hitched up and her black boots jamming into the sole of the dinghy, was impaling herself on cock.
The dinghy bobbed in a wide circle of lapping ripples.
Cassie's pussy squeezed pecker like preparing to juice an orange.
She had the muscle clutch. She seeped her sweet fem-sap as a cock enveloping lotion.
Then plunged her pussy down and arched her lithe body up. The rhythm was established, back and forth, in deep and near out, sweeping locked sexual entanglement.
God, it was fast…Wow, it was intense…and it was so exciting.
The craft with the oars locked headed in a rocking, smaller, shaky circle around the lake's centre.
Seb's stiff shaft was pinioned by warm sweet pussy diving down onto his pubic bone and pulling up with a delectable stretch that is the gift of a tight pussy.
Up, up and away to male cock heaven.
Cassie was moaning, sinking on this cock each time she hit his pubic bone. Her clit aroused.
"Ooh, that is good! Ooh, so good! Aah! Aah! Aah!"
As her girly ruffles embraced pecker, she felt the tingle—the quiver before the spasm quaver and the hedonistic shudder.
The pulse, the pit-a-pat of escalating thrumming, coiled nerve endings craving the euphoric Big-O.
Suddenly, Cassandra Hudson decided as good as a rowboat humping was — why pass on a dinghy dunk in her beloved derriere.
Talk about rocking the boat!
Cassie did as she changed the status quo from pussy pleasure to hard-arsed climax demands.
The small craft nearly tipped over as she scrambled ungainly on all fours and flipped her dress, revealing her patootie shootie.
"Wow," mouthed Seb as a crinkled star winked at him in broad daylight.
"Quick, get your finger in there!"
Seb jabbed directly into her puckered freckle.
"Oi, oof! Sheez, add a bit of spit, you dill! Spit in my arse. Lots of spit!"
Like a pig in a trough, Seb hawked dollops and nuggets everywhere in the general region. His spit flew like errant darts, splattering her peachy rump. But beginner luck or Cupid's blessing guided a glob like an arrow hitting the bullseye — deep in her cinnamon ring.
"Attaboy," Ms Cassie cooed, her buttocks shimmied in anticipation.
"Stick your tongue tip in my starfish! Now! Now!"
Why did she suddenly turn her head and look around?
She didn't know.
Maybe she wanted it all…the mussy bodily sensation…the look in a guy's eyes as he tongue-teased her tooshie like tossing a salad.
And the public surroundings — this was unique, unrepeatable sex. Her arse was going down on the water, hopefully as deep as sunken treasure.
She got even hotter as Seb's tongue daubed her crack — she saw a shore tourist aiming his camera their way.
Seb slammed his wet tip like a leap from a cliff top in a streamlined dive, drowning her inner rills in waves of slushed happiness!
"Orrgh, that is frickin' good. Orrf! Geez! You might be a bloody keeper if you keep that up! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!"
Cassie's thighs trembled.
The rowboat developed an unsteady, rickety sway.
A voice wafted over the water, interrupting mounting pleasure.
"I'm calling the Police…Bring that boat in NOW…The Police…The Police…" the gesticulating craft owner yelled as he ran to his small office to make the call.
Seb pulled his tongue reluctantly out of Cassandra's gawped shining rosebud.
"Oi," complained Cassie, "Finish me off!"
The young man grabbed the oars and rowed for dear life to the far side of the park lake.
Cassandra flopped sexually denied.
Even at a fair distance, they heard the operator yell, "The Police are coming…The Police are coming…"
Mooring slapdash on the far side, the pair made their getaway, trampling through recently prepared flower beds and trekking through thick ferns.
The Police came eventually, and they checked out the rowboat at the far side of the lake.
And they inspected even closer: a pair of cute size eight musk-scented black knickers lying in the boat.
Mutually, the officers thought: Yeah, I'd like to have taken those off the chick too…and dogged her in the boat.