When We Were Watched

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Peeper watches boyfriend-girlfriend fuck in a forest.
2.4k words
4.03
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I parked at her parents, and rolled the passenger window down.

That summer breeze-that sweet, warm treat, passed through. Sunset was soon, so I set my sunglasses on the dash and squinted at the treeline, shadier and deeper the more I looked at it. We wouldn't be out late.

A door shut, a pat-pat-pat on the gravel...her tight, tanned legs in white sneakers and jean shorts rounded the corner of the garage. Christa, my wife-girlfriend then-well, her strut hasn't changed; still calm, still walks with a little hip shake...if we weren't fooling around so much I'd have checked her out more often.

"And you're going where?" boomed her mother. I waved; she cocked her head for a nod. Something gold-a crucifix-twinkled against her white turtleneck.

"To the pub mum, to meet his friends...won't be late!" she said without turning her head. As a grin spread under her sunglasses, her teeth beamed through those small red lips.

Christa closed the door too hard, and hadn't finished buckling in when I started rolling to the road. She patted my knee, then clasped her hands so I could shift into forward gear.

"Pub's the other way," said Christa, then nodded at a cyclist in a flat cap.

"Who's he?" I asked.

With a shrug, she said, "A neighbor, he lives somewhere down here," and for the seconds she faced me in response offered, "Water?"

I gripped the bottle, sipped, and handed it back. Christa popped the nozzle and pumped the water out in loud squirts. Her mouth was so full she had to seal her lips to wipe her mouth. As she swallowed, I traced my fingers, moist from the condensation, up her inner thigh. Goosebumps budded on the cool trail as quickly as she squeezed her knees together.

I took the first right, through a wood. Out of the sun the car cooled. Christa placed her glasses beside the bottle and stroked the back of my head.

"A lot of dog walkers come here, but I suppose it's late now," she said.

"Mhmm," I said. Had I another plan?

Notes of wet wood and leaves coupled with her mild, floral perfume--sweat too-teased me; everything about that night would be fresh, I thought, electrified with possibility...what if her mother knew?

Another turn, a dirt road-only someone with a wolf for a pet would've been dog-walking at that hour. I parked at a service clearing.

"So...where's the pub?" she asked with a smirk. Click, and my buckle was off; I covered hers though. Moving my mouth to hers, puffs of her breath rolled off my lower lip as she asked with a laugh, "Hmm? Now what's this about?"

Her hips slid toward the edge of the seat-I was supporting myself on an arm for a pillar, with a fist between her legs. Can you picture those firm, tanned thighs? Christa's shorts were hot from her cunt; the crotch seam was rubbing my knuckles when we kissed; she wore that berry lip balm until her early 20's.

With a hand on my shoulder, Christa said, "Let's go to the back."

As dark as it was, I could still marvel her red cheeks and firm lips, that naughty evidence, when she stood and checked the wood for movement. We closed the rear doors gently, windows opened halfway.

Leaning into the corner between the door and the seat, Christa watched my hands undo the buttons on her black vest. I didn't notice her tiny, silver crucifix until then; should I've slowed down?

With hands folded as if in prayer I parted her vest; no bra, and the tits she had then-tanlined, round with large, pink areolas for a small cup, well, you'd have helped yourself like I did, sucking their small nips before kissing her on the lips, before tonguing again.

Sitting the way I was, my shorts bunched up. Christa couldn't find my fly zipper quickly. Her kisses became passive, withdrawn; she arched her neck onto the headrest while her hands prodded my balls, shaft, cockhead...they were getting so close to finding it. That my smallest finger was probing her arse crack wasn't helping, I'm sure. But, I was throbbing now-she could have used my shorts to jerk me off.

She popped that cock out, and, what a tease she was...always keeping her mouth just above its little hole. I couldn't help it: by flexing my cock when she squeezed it at the balls, my precum just grazed her chin.

"Want my mother to see you came all over yourself?" Christa wiped her chin while jerking me so hard and fast my wet cock made plip-plip-plip sounds when her fist rammed its cock head folds. So intense-so numbing.

No, nothing would wash the cum she could squeeze out of me.

Christa tired, and by watching her now patient, heavy strokes peel my foreskin and half-roll it up, I provided lip service to her ear, her moist neck, to all those tender, immaculate folds along her collar...to what inevitably slopes into those tits-rose-budded and blessed with a cup too large for my mouth but too small to stretch my grip.

"It's too hot like this," she said, her forehead pooling a shiny, delta of sweat above her cleavage. Who could cum in this heat?

Rubbing my face with my shirt, I pulled away, and while blind, felt the tip of her sneaker graze my abs. That made me curious-was she going to lie on her tummy?

No, she opened the car door.

"Finish it," I said, motioning to the water bottle. Christa blew me a kiss before saving the last two fingers of water to rinse her face and tits-you should've seen the droplets dripping from her nips making spots all over her shorts.

What would her mother say?

Well, I'd never tell her that her daughter was so moist I couldn't hear her shorts and black lace knickers slither down to her knees. Oh yes-Christa was only wearing socks and sneakers now, and yes-those were her wet, cummy panties tossed on the top of the car.

My grin must've twisted wickedly-my ears were burning and cocked to listen for cars. Her eyes didn't follow me when I walked behind her-Christa just stood with her hands on her hips, legs spread-airing out that moist, trimmed and burly-brown cunt hair. And, what an arse-I mean, I'll never tire of telling you how lean and tight she was. She had these narrow hips, but those cheeks, tanlined of course, bubbled out...were made for a two-handed grip.

A firm cup-slap to Christa's right cheek nudged her to walk and bend over the car bonnet.

"Ah! Hot!" she said, recoiling from pressing her palms on the metal. As quickly the handprints evaporated, I offered my shirt. Christa wiped her neck, tits, and pussy with it before laying it over the bonnet for her hands. She looked over her shoulder to check where I was before letting her head drop loosely between her arms.

Hesitating, I thought, "Should I strip?" My cock had enough shaft poking out of the fly; the zipper draped gold metal teeth loosely around its meaty girth-I took it in one hand, spreading her arse cheeks already cool to the touch with the other. Now, if Christa spread her legs any further she'd have been too low and...I couldn't imagine comfortable. But, the way she stood meant an even tighter slit and-oh-almost forgot the condom.

Pressing my head to her cunt's lips, I palpated for her hole through the narrow, knotty bush; I curve to the right, so my fist was right up against her hot, damp arse, keeping my head on the straight and narrow path.

Just to stick that head in her cunt pushed her to stand and rock on her tip toes; I kept an eye on her face-I always choked a bit if she closed her eyes and furrowed her brow at the slight pain of initial penetration. Her cunt had to be fed slowly-what felt like a millimeter of shaft at a time. But what an experience-I mean, to feel her cunt's tunnel relax bit by bit, always peeling my foreskin well below the head.

But, that was just the first thrust. And, I already saw the condom coming off the shaft.

Noticing the hesitation, she lifted her head and asked, "Something-"

"-May I toss the rubber?"

"Well, I've taken the pill on time." Those eyes told me she was auditing each time and day this past week. "I guess it's alright."

For the first few, raw pumps, I pulled her at the hips-a kind of jerk off. Would you believe I was so hard that I felt my own pulsing rigidity more than her pussy? Christa took a hand off the bonnet to guide my hand to her clit...a challenging reach to grip that little clit hood between her hair and slippery lips; my best chance was to rub her with two fingers stretched flat against her mound.

At that age and experience, I enjoyed ramming her for perhaps a minute and a half before preoccupying myself with the thought of cumming too soon. My balls would harden to nuts, ready to jet at the first careless, conscious sense of satisfaction of fucking her. I had just pictured my cum running down her thighs and seeping into her socks-her having to walk with a squish-squish at home when I suddenly tuned into how vocal-"Yes, fuck me!"-she was becoming.

Then, a snap. Yes, that distinct, muffled sound of a wet branch breaking in half.

Christa's pussy immediately tightened, almost forcing me out, and she scanned the treeline for movement.

"Is someone there?" she whispered.

Every leaf, weed, branch-anything jostled by the wind-had my attention. Trees creaked as the breeze picked up, and after a minute I suggested, "Just the wind?" but Christa didn't respond. Her lips did relax after another minute though. When her head rested on the bonnet, I started up again-rocking her with slow, but hard thrusts, thrusts that made the suspension squeak.

"Uh...uh," Christa moaned into her folded arms. With a cunt that relaxed-or a shaft that numb-how could I savor each thrust? Something else now thrilled me-something novel then..that instinctual chill of being seen...but by what? It wasn't danger. I wasn't going to pull out and rush Christa into the seat, nude and unbuckled; what a thought though. No-we'd do something more raw. Anal? She wasn't trained then; her pea-sized, puckered hole would've told you. Instead, I pulled out and spun her around.

This time I half-sat on the bonnet and jerked off in her direction. Christa's back faced the forest.

With a raised eyebrow and folded arms she asked, "Um, let me do that for you?" And, my goodness I had nothing for her knees to rest on-Christa was going to squat-and how long could she do that?

Folding her jean shorts for a pillow, Christa said, "Let go to the log over there."

Now that sounded better-and it was right at the forest edge. This was one of my first blowjobs from her-she liked to start playing with the head...licking it, testing its sensitivity under the folds. I didn't feel much-but just watching it kept me hard. Christa made it clear she had a gag reflex-so where was she going to stuff all that shaft?

Some use too much teeth; others are too gentle. Christa was too gentle-that's how she liked her clit licked-light quick flicks. So I said, "You've warmed me up, love-now suck it like you're suctioning a tight rubber glove off a thumb. Hard, love."

Christa got it-her head was really rocking up and down. Was like, part blowjob, part jerk off, and I was spending my attention not to moan too loudly or to start face-fucking her-but with her hands on my balls too, oh my; the temptation to coat her mouth with hot seed-and not warn her-swelled. But then, was that a snap?

More than that-something moved-yes-just out the corner of my eye. Stiff as a teetering dead log was a lean old man stepping out from behind a pine. We made eye contact. I didn't know whether to nod or what; he was not unwelcome. If Christa noticed him-and that he was furiously jerking to her tight lean arse and narrow hairy slit, she would've screamed. Probably. But, he was definitely harmless. We had interrupted a long walk in the wood.

I checked Christa out just as she was looking up at me. Did my best to wear an expression that said, "There is absolutely nothing to see," and was preparing for the worst when she took me out of her mouth.

"You let me know," she said, jerking it-but slowly. She was getting tired.

I said, "Stand up love," to which she furrowed her brows and dusted off her arse-a perfect sight for the audience.

"Come here, put your arms around my neck and lift your leg up."

She raised an eyebrow at that, but obliged. Yes, I was going to lift her up and fuck her with her feet off the ground and wrapped around my back. But first, I had to angle my cock in that tight cunt. And, in one cautious leap, she impaled her pussy.

Just knowing he was watching a most unconventional position for his age charged me with adrenaline; my elbows weren't so sore. For now. But, this rush wasn't going to last for a minute, so I gripped her arse and pumped. That Christa was closing her eyes and parting her lips was a good sign-and each time her pussy fell to my balls I made sure to rub her wet, clitty mound against my waist.

"Yes! Yes..." I said, quite loudly, morphined from the orgasm, thrusting my jizm against gravity-hoping I'd stay hard to plug her hole. But no luck-our cum was a crude blend of watery lady squirt and hot, thick globs-and I let her down too soon so that it did trickle along her thigh and behind a knee. As a final treat to our viewer, Christa had to bend over to wipe it off. I swear I heard something like a raindrop on a leaf-and casually looked over her back for the man.

Had he cum? He was gone.

It was dark on the road home. We were catching up to something-an old man on a bike...the one from the wood?

The one on our way there, I think.

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4 Comments
TrevorvichTrevorvichalmost 8 years ago
Watch it

Loved the story. Voyeurism is so erotic

AnonymousAnonymousover 8 years ago
Peeping

I loved peeking at unsuspecting couples in the woods near my house also , I would strip down naked and masturbate the entire time I watched them . I loved masturbating to Christa sucking your cock and I had a wonderful orgasm remembering those couples I used to peek at

AnonymousAnonymousover 8 years ago
Watching

I love to be watched. It is so hot. Love your story she sounds like she loves to suck

CuckyJimmyCuckyJimmyover 8 years ago
Youth

Your writing paints a nice picture of youthful love-making. Very well written. Thank you.

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