Page 119 of S is for SEX

The thought of doing it was a huge turn-on, but actually doing it was another story. As he stood and continued to glare at me, I felt myself getting wetter with each passing second. After what seemed like forever, but was realistically a few seconds, I couldn’t take it any longer.

“Are you serious?” I asked.

With his arms still folded in front of his chest, he nodded his head once. “I want to finger your little pussy.”

With my back facing the house, and the waterfall directly behind me, I was protected from the view of anyone at the back door, but the remaining ten windows in the house had a clear shot at what we were doing. If there was anyone in the great room, dining room, upstairs bedrooms, or bathrooms, they would see everything.

All in all, it was perfect.

I walked to the table, bent over slightly, and flipped the dress over my hips.

“No panties,” he said as he ran his hand along my inner thigh.

“Nope,” I responded, my legs twitching in response to his touch.

I felt his finger penetrate me. After sliding it in and out of my dripping wet pussy a few times, he obviously added another finger. I bit my lower lip and began to moan at the pressure of both fingers being forced deep inside me. As I pressed my chest onto the top of the wooden table, I lifted myself onto my tip-toes.

Either from intending to do so or by accident, and I didn’t really care which it was, the tips of his fingers were rubbing my g-spot each time he pushed them deep inside of me. I closed my eyes and turned my head to the side, resting it flat on the table, and allowed myself to relax onto the heels of my feet.

“Holy shit that feels good,” I said softly.

And it did. My love for Vince and his desire to please me made me perpetually wet for him, but being in the back yard while everyone prepared for dinner was book boyfriend dream land for me.

Within what seemed like seconds, but was more than likely minutes, I began to tingle from head to toe.

“Come on, Sienna,” he breathed into my ear.

Just shut up and keep going.

“Come on, babe,” he breathed.

Shut up. Just…hit…that…spot…again…

“Come on, do it,” he said.

Please, be quiet.

His fingers continued to massage my g-spot, and I did my best to filter out his requests to have me come. I was almost there.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” I heard his mother shout.

I opened my eyes, fully expecting to see her. Still sheltered by the waterfall, and out of view of the door, I was safe. I closed my eyes, and realized my heart was beating ten-fold of what was normal.

A few more strokes of his fingers, and my breathing was louder than anything else in the yard. I raised myself onto my toes, lowered myself, raised up again, and relaxed.

“Oh holy fuuuuuuuck…”

I collapsed onto the table and gasped for my next breath.

The faint sound of what I thought was his zipper was followed by his hand pressing on my back. Him fingering me in the yard was one thing, but him fucking me was another. If he thought for one minute that I was going to let…

I inhaled a slow breath as I felt the pressure of his massive cock slide inside of me. As it reached bottom, I exhaled and grabbed the edges of the table in my hands. As I held the table firm in my hands, I turned and looked his direction over my shoulder.

His jeans were around his thighs, and his perfectly pressed white tee shirt was all bunched up around his mid-section. I felt like I should protest, and really didn’t think fucking in his mother’s back yard in the evening sun was the best idea I had ever heard, but it wasn’t necessarily the worst, either.

Without speaking, I sighed, turned around, and held the table tight.

It must have been all the confirmation he needed.

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