What if I don’t like who I see? Or, what’s perhaps even more frightening: what if I do like who I see? What will that say about me? What does he think about me, a girl who’s willing to meet a stranger in a cemetery in the middle of the night?
He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he works on sitting me down on the blanket, and within another minute, I’m on my back beneath him. His hands find my neck, and he cups my face for only a few seconds before he unzips my jacket and starts to explore in the same manner he explored me at the party.
The cold air? Doesn’t mean much when you have a furnace on top of you, when you have hot, searching hands dancing across certain parts of you. His hands are large and rough, but I’m too focused on the shadowed eyes behind the mask. Just like at the party, I can’t see their hue. The shadows block out too much of their color. They could be blue, green, or even brown. The small candles around us don’t shed enough light to discern their true color either way.
Beneath my shirt, his hands roam, and I take that opportunity to reach for his mask, figuring he’d be too lost inwhat he’s doing to stop me, but I’m wrong. My hand makes it maybe three or so inches away from his mask before he grabs me by the wrist, pins that wrist above my head, and gives me a single, solemn shake of his head, a tsk-tsk gesture if I ever saw one.
“Is it so wrong that I want to know who you are behind that mask?” I breathe out. “I just want to know who you are, why it feels like I know you.”
As he holds my one wrist above my head, he brings his other hand lower, and with an expert touch he undoes my jeans. Button and then the zipper, and I hold my breath the entire time, knowing what’s going to come next.
He really does want to get straight to business, huh? I guess I can’t blame him. I’m already breathless at the thought. In a minute, I’ll be worked up and ready to lose myself in the way thisguy will make me feel.
He doesn’t slip beneath my panties, but he does dip his hand beneath the jeans and curl his fingers around my clit over the thin fabric. I suck in a hard breath and squirm a bit, but the squirming is for show. The moment his fingers start to work on me, I just about lose it.
It’s just as it was at the party. It feels too good to be real, like I walked into some dream. Like, whoever this guy is, he has the key to my heart, my soul, and my body, and he’s going to use it however the heck he wants to and I am powerless to stop him.
My body becomes a sauna. Even though it’s winter around us, I instantly become too hot. My clit swells beneath the attention, and I don’t bother trying to stifle my moans. We aren’t in public this time, aren’t at a party where anyone could come close and see what we’re up to. This time, it’s just him and I, two people following their animalistic instincts.
Because that’s what this is. It’s what this has to be. Instinct. Granted, it’s instinct I would not have had a year ago, but that doesn’t make it any less real.
After a little while, the hand he has beneath my pants move so it’s beneath my panties, and the very moment his fingers surround my clit, I pant out a heavy breath, knowing where this is going to lead.
The masked man watches me as he unravels me to my core. He plays with me like he was born to be on top of me, like every part of my body was made for him. I come with a cry, and heat and fire surge through me at lightspeed, every single part of me burning up.
I want out of these clothes. I don’t even care if I’ll be too cold.
After I come, he withdraws his hand from between my legs and releases his hold on my wrist above my head. I’m about to ask him what he’s doing, but he gets to his knees and works to undo his pants. I prop myself up, eyeing what he’s doing, and when he pulls out his erect length, I audibly gulp.
It’s a cock all right, rock hard and very much calling my name.
He’s on his knees over me, and he scoots forward, bringing that cock closer to my face. All without saying a word, he tells me what he wants me to do: he points at his hard cock, and then he brings a finger to his mask, to where a mouth would be.
I flush for a whole different reason. “I’ve never—”
He stops me by taking me by the chin and bringing me closer to his cock. I have to sit up to reach it with the position we’re in, and even then, it’s not quite level, but he doesn’t seem to mind. I part my lips and open my mouth, and he sets a hand on the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair, and forces his cock into my mouth.
It’s… not something I’m prepared for. My mouth has to open as wide as it can, and although I don’t have experience doingsomething like this, I’m pretty sure it isn’t just the mouth he’s looking for. He’s also looking for some sucking action, I think. Some swirls of the tongue. Stuff to spice it up every now and then instead of having his cock just move in and out.
I do what I can. I keep my mouth open as much as possible while also trying to get into it and act like his dick is a piece of candy or a lollipop. Low, deep grunts come from him, which inform me without words that I’m doing well.
Or maybe he wants me so badly it wouldn’t even matter if I messed up majorly.
He doesn’t go too deep when it comes to guiding my head along his cock. If he would push his cock as deep as it could go, I’d definitely choke, so I’m glad he’s taking my inexperience into consideration.
I taste what must be bits of precum on the tip of his cock every now and then, and when I do, I make sure to run my tongue over it to gather it up. His hand tightens on the back of my head, and he starts to rock his hips in sync with the bobbing of my head. My thighs squeeze together. There is something insanely hot about this, how lost we both are in each other, to the point where I bet neither of us can think straight.
Why think straight when not thinking at all feels so good?
The masked man lets out a muffled moan, and seconds later a burst of hot, salty cum erupts in my mouth. It startles me, seemingly out of nowhere, but once I realize what it is—that he’s coming—I force myself to relax and take it.
It’s only when he pulls his cock out of my mouth that I can fully swallow, and as I do so, the man pushes me back down to the ground and yanks down my pants and the panties beneath. He doesn’t take them all the way off, just bunches them to my knees; it’s all he needs to do. His cock, still hard even after finding a release in my mouth, glides between my thighs andrubs along my clit for a few moments before he pushes himself inside of me, uniting us in a way his fingers simply couldn’t.
I gasp, suddenly so full and still so ridiculously hot. He comes down upon me, holding himself over me as he sets the pace, and I surrender everything I am, everything I will be, to this masked stranger. At this point I don’t recognize myself, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
This new me is a dirty girl, I guess.
Moaning, I take every thrust, every pump of that hard cock, and I take it with pleasure. He takes hold of me at the base of my neck and squeezes ever so slightly, enough to make me lightheaded, but not enough to make me completely dizzy. It only adds to the pleasure inside of me. Combine that with the assault happening between my thighs, and I erupt again. This orgasm lingers, drawn out as he continues to make me his.
