Moonlight Ride

MOONLIGHT RIDE
Read on Mainstream Erotica


He arrived to her apartment as the sun was setting. Having prepared for the occasion, his car smelled like a combination of interior protectant and a grove of pine trees. Blankets were folded nicely and placed on the back seat, a small cooler on the floor board. They had made it through the typical ‘honeymoon’ phase of their budding relationship but the romantic courting gestures continued. He lowered the sultry R&B tunes as he pulled into her driveway, chirped the horn, and waited for her to traverse down the stairs from the second floor.

“I thought that we were going to dinner tonight,” she said, after greeting him with a drawn-out kiss and glancing in the back seat. “I have a better idea that I am sure you will enjoy,” he assured, still caressing her cheek and studying her profile as if it were their first encounter. Smiling softly she sat back into the seat, trusting his discretion. “But, these shoes are not exactly four-wheel-drive, if we are going to be trekking anywhere….” “If there is a problem then I will carry you.”

Reaching beneath the passenger seat he retrieved a black scarf-like piece of cloth, gathered it at both ends and held it up head-width apart. “But, you know, I do want this to be a surprise.” She modestly grinned and situated her shoulders square to him once again. “Paul, you never cease to amaze me.” After securing the knot at the back of her head his lips briefly nudged against her forehead, then the car kicked into reverse.

Their drive was long but went by quickly, most of the conversation being led by his intentional questioning about the happenings in her life—if there was any new gossip she had about the people in her office, what she had acquired during her last visit to her favorite department store, if she had her hair trimmed over the past few days…. She enthusiastically answered, with heavy use of hand gestures, turning her head his direction every so often as if the blind fold did not exist.

For the last few miles of the drive the car moved slowly over the comparatively bumpy, meandering road. As he opened her door warm salt air drifted through the opening onto her face, neck, and barren shoulders. “Would you mind waiting here for a few minutes while I get a few things ready,” he whispered into her ear. Expressing concern about being blindfolded in an unknown place she began lifting the cloth upward with one thumb. “I can see you clearly at all times,” he successfully assured her.

She could hear his footsteps—the loose gravel crushing against the ground—as he traveled to and from the car, collecting from the back seat and trunk to set the stage for the evening. Lastly, he returned to her side and lifted one of her hands, guiding her out of her seat.
“You are going to carry me,” she chuckled, in response to the positioning of his arms—one across her shoulder blades and the other at the back of her knees. She obligingly threw her arm over his shoulder, giggling loudly as he hoisted her upward and began moving forward.

“Grass,” she chirped, hearing it crinkle from under the blanket as her body was carefully positioned on the ground. For a few moments he gazed upon her body adapting to the new surroundings—her knees twisting together side to side as she giddily ran her hands over the fluffy altar. The warming stroke of his hands on her shoulders eased her excitement. “I think that you could use a little bit of a tan,” he playfully suggested, lifting the bottom seam of her dress. Puzzled by his attempt at humor she hesitated to lift her torso. “Don’t worry, there’s no one around for miles, sweetheart.”

She lie there motionless, nervously biting on one finger, though still a grin of anticipation spread across her face as he removed her clothing. “I do think that tan lines are sexy. So, these will have to stay on,” he SAID teasingly, gently snapping the waistband of her delicate black lace panties against her hip, then sliding both thumbs under the blindfold to remove the obstruction.

The moon blared down upon her unclothed form. She turned her head in awe to survey the silvery sheaths it cast across the grass, over the rocky cliff, then dancing atop the rippled sea surface. It was a calm, tranquil night. “This is so amazing, Paul,” she breathed, turning her head to him. “I see that you have brought your guitar. Are you going to treat me to a serenade?” Smiling, he situates himself next to the picnic basket. “Yes, later, but what I had in mind for now is a lot sweeter,” he alluded, lifting the cap off of a plastic container and showing her its contents.“…interesting choice in fruit. There are many that you could have picked that are sweeter than cherries.” He retrieved one of them and dangled it just above her navel. “It has more to do with the added creamy coating. Would you like to try?”

His hand traversed between her thighs, slowly tracing the fleshy protrusions and moving his pinky under the side seam of her thong. She splayed slightly to allow him better access. “What are you going to do with that, Sir” she teased, eagerly awaiting its coldness to make contact with her moisture. Whimpering, she parted her knees further, the moonlight tickling the exposed crinkled edges of her bottom-most chasm. The other, he discovered, was already heavily laden with means to make the appetizer complete.

Her chest reached upward at the swollen moon. A sudden slight wind raised the follicles from her illuminated skin, and the brownish peaks of her supple knolls became more prominent. Wiggling the tiny object past her inner folds, he settled it for a moment in the pool of pleasure that had collected at the entrance to her pleasure passage. “Are you hungry, my dear,” he asked, moving it back farther along the path of her dampened muscles. She moved her hips further onto his fingers. “Only if you hand feed me.”

He lifted the glistening cherry just out of reach of her beckoning lips—a gesture which suggested she reach for it with her tongue, a request which she gladly accommodated. Lifting her head slightly she collected every bit of her nectar from the surface then devoured the juicy pulp. “Now it is your turn, Paul.” Her body writhed as she stared up into his eyes. His treat followed the same path to her now dripping nether region, collecting more of the slippery coating. Instead of bringing it directly to his mouth, he backed his hand from her body as to remove the cloth obstruction which hid her taunting pink pucker. In an easy, soothing manner one finger stroked the subtle lips which surrounded it. She stopped breathing, tilting her head back firmly into the blanket. The cherry was then tenderly pressed into the firm, yet yielding, passageway.

She, having never had that region of her body explored before, wanted more and the mystery of not knowing what could come suddenly jolted her into a frenzied state. “I will do anything you want me to, Paul. You may have whatever you like…,” she whimpered, grasping onto the blanket tightly with both hands. “I want that fine ass of yours smothering my face.” Somewhat surprised by his sudden, blunt request she smiled and waited for him to proceed explaining his desires. “Get rid of that thong, please, and back yourself onto me,” he ardently requested, making room for himself to lie on the blanket.

“Don’t be afraid to use all of your weight,” he assured, guiding her hips onto his head. She sat down, firmly resting her cheeks on his. He held her there, and not a sound surfaced from beneath her unclad body. Only the gentle lapping of the rising tide could be heard as it climbed up the cliff walls. Concerned after what seemed to be long moments that he had held his breath for long enough she started to rise, but he insisted—with a muffled moan and a firm grip—for her to remain situated until he could endure it no longer.

She hovered over his mouth, waiting for him to recuperate, but he only took in two deep breaths before his tongue began furiously flicking at the flesh which had just stifled him. Chills ran up her spine, and she positioned her knees as to further expose her undercarriage to him. Resisting the urge to gyrate to the rhythm of his strokes, she held her knees tightly. She could see from beneath his jeans his member fully awakened and reached for its firmness. “Now, turn around and fuck my face,” he commanded. “Grind that pussy into me.” Without hesitation she turned around and mounted his chin—her fingers woven through and gripping his hair tightly.

Although never having mounted anyone as such before she seemed to almost instinctively know how to increase her arousal, sliding her slippery slit over his chin and occasionally cupping it over his eager mouth. She was near climax, his face already drenched in a mixture of her flavorful fluids and his own saliva, but she held back the sensation. “Come all over my face, sweetheart,” he managed to audibly pant from between her legs, nestling a finger back onto her crumpled vestibule. Immediately she threw her head back, granting him his request.

The wind became chilly as the two regained the composure—her relishing in the last tapering tingles before crawling down onto him. She held him closely, affectionately licking all evidence of pleasure from his face.

“So, are you going to sing to me now?”
“Perhaps after we finish the main course….”

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