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“You’re just so fucking hot,” he said. “And I usually get everything you say, but I have no idea what you just meant by that.”
I laughed. I had to reel this in quickly or I might lose him.
“It wasn’t a joke,” I informed him. “It was an invitation.”
I put my hand on his leg beneath the tabletop and slid it up his thigh.
“I mean I know I said I didn’t want to be here. And I might have even seemed a bit scared, but stop worrying about me.”
Then his hand was on my knee again and his fingers were walking up my thigh, making their way up under my dress. He found the elastic of my panties, and one of his fingers dared to slip beneath it, just enough to touch the trimmed outskirts of my bikini line.
It tickled. And my ass tightened.
His finger played there for a second, begging for permission to enter, and I was so ready to feel his hands between my legs. I licked my top lip and he moved closer.
He leaned in, and as his one finger slid just slightly further past the elastic, and I let out the slightest whimper, his tongue touched mine. Our wet mouths moved to the same rhythm. Braden was one hell of a kisser.
It was soft, smooth, and sensual. And it was effortless. I didn’t have to match my style to his and he wasn’t trying to quicken or lessen his pace to be in tune with me.
It was hot and that finger stayed in place, just moving left to right and back again, like my pubic hair was braille and this blind man was trying to consume each word in the story.
He moved his mouth back to my ear.
“You want to take this thing further?” he asked, his tongue once again nipping at my earlobe.
“Uh huh,” I said with a moan.
“Then come on,” he said as he stood.
From where I sat, my eyes were at his waist, and right in front of me was his bulge. I don’t think he was fully erect as there was still softness beneath his dark pants, but I could kind of make out the outline of his cock, and I wanted it.
Before the night was through he’d be hard as a rock and I planned to take all of it inside me. My chest heaved up and down as I thought of what it would be like letting him in for the first time. I pursed my lips and pressed down against my seat. I was sitting sideways on the bench, the hard plastic of it pressed against the crease of my pussy.
He stood over me looking down with his hand held out.
“Are you coming or what?”
Oh you have no idea.
And I probably could have if I’d stayed pressed against the hard bench any longer. It wasn’t the nastiness of an outdoor carnival snack shack chair that was getting me off, but the view of his manhood only inches from my face combined with my desire to rip his pants open and take him in my mouth.
Whatever you have planned better be good.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes and grabbed ahold of his hand.
“Ready for round one?” he asked.
“Just take me to the finale,” I replied.
“I will,” he promised. “Little by little…until you’re begging for it.”
I liked the sound of that and he seemed to like the smile that was spreading across my lips. I left my wicked little bench behind and let him lead me deeper into the carnival.
What had started out as a sweet and normal date, suddenly seemed to intensify. Braden’s pace had quickened. He was a man on a mission and he’d made it clear that it had everything to do with pleasure.
“Step right up! Mr. GQ, you ready to win a prize for the lady on your arm?”
Braden broke off from his forward march and made his way over to the greasy game runner who’d been taunting him. The guy wore a green visor with a red and white candy cane-like shirt. The nametag read: Rufus.
