“Where are you taking me?” I asked, my hand already creeping up his thigh.
“Anywhere but my place,” Felix grunted, shifting in the driver’s seat. “My roommate is around today.”
“The park, then?”
“On a Saturday? The whole world and their grandmother will be there. But…” he glanced at me, a sly grin spreading across his face. “I know a spot inside that park. It’s far, though.”
We eventually pulled into the local park, and he wasn’t lying—the place was swarming with families and picnickers. But Felix just grabbed my hand and led me down an area, deep into the bush. After a few minutes, he suddenly veered off the path, pushing through thick undergrowth until the sounds of people faded away completely.
I thought the small clearing we stood in was private enough, even if the ground looked like it would shred my bare skin. But Felix just pointed ahead. A massive finger of rock, big as a bungalow and shining in the sun, rose out of the earth. It looked impossible to climb. My confusion must have been plain, because he grinned and showed me a cleverly hidden path behind a jutting lip of stone—a secret road that led straight up to the top.
When we emerged, the world opened up. The top of the rock was a perfect, flat table of sun-warmed stone, bare and private, surrounded by the sky.
“I found this place when I was a boy,” Felix said, his voice low. “I don’t think any other living soul knows it exists. You… you’re the first person I’ve ever brought here.”
A hot thrill shot through me. His secret place. For a few minutes, we just sat in silence.
Felix lay back on the sun-warmed stone, and I climbed on top of him, settling my weight onto his hard body. We kissed, a deep, hungry kind of kiss that left us both breathless. Then, I pushed myself up, straddling his hips. “Take all your clothes off,” I commanded, my voice husky. “I want to see every single part of you.”
“I want to see all of you, too,” he breathed, standing up in one fluid motion.
He made a show of it, peeling off his shirt to reveal the carved muscles of his chest and stomach. His jeans and boxers followed, kicked aside until he stood there, gloriously naked. God, his body was a masterpiece—all taut skin and defined strength. He turned slightly to grab something from his pocket, giving me a perfect view of his pert, tight ass. And between his legs, his cock, already thick and heavy, was beginning to swell and rise.
“Your turn,” he said, his eyes dark with desire.
A sudden wave of shyness washed over me. What if my body wasn’t enough? But I stood up, my fingers trembling as I unbuttoned my blouse, stepped out of my skirt, and finally unhooked my bra. I stood before him, completely exposed.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, and the raw honesty in his voice and the heat in his gaze made me believe it. A fierce, proud warmth spread through my chest.
Feeling bolder, I closed the distance between us. “That day in the bathroom,” I began, my hand tracing the line of his hip. “Did it make you horny? Knowing you were playing with my sister’s pussy while my hand was on your dick?”
A low groan rumbled in his chest, and I watched, mesmerized, as his cock jerked and thickened, rising to its full, impressive length.
“What did her pussy feel like?” I pressed, my own body throbbing with a wicked curiosity.
He let out a rough laugh. “Like yours, but bushier. A whole forest down there.”
“I think a hairy pussy is sexy,” I mused, my fingers now trailing through my own neatly trimmed triangle. “I just wish I had big, heavy breasts like Chinyere’s. Why do you think she is so… frigid?”
The playfulness vanished from his face. “It’s not that,” he said, his voice turning serious. “I heard… I heard one of her first boyfriends tried to force her. To rape her. She never talks about it.”
The revelation hit me like a physical blow. It made a terrible kind of sense. All her warnings, her fear, her treating sex like a disease… it wasn’t just her being a good girl. And here I was, her little sister, consumed with guilt because all I could think about was how badly I wanted her boyfriend to fuck me right here, right now, on this sacred rock.
“So,” I began, tracing a circle on his knee. “If my sister finally opens her legs for you, will you still have taste for this? For me?”
His answer was immediate. “Yes,” he breathed. “God, yes.”
My hand moved higher. “And you want to do things with me right now?”
“You know I do.”
I leaned in, my lips brushing his ear. “Then do you want to fuck me, Felix? Really fuck me?”
He looked at me, and I saw the war in his eyes. The bulge in his trousers was already standing at attention, betraying him. “Ngozi, we can’t,” he groaned.
“I won’t get pregnant, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” I whispered, pulling a condom from my pocket. “I came prepared.”
“It’s not that. I don’t want to…”
I let my lower lip tremble, putting on my best wounded look.
“Ngozi,,” he said, his voice strained. “I am dating Chinyere. I love your sister. I cannot just put my penis inside you.”
So that was the wall I couldn’t break through. I didn’t understand his stupid loyalty, but I couldn’t exactly force his dick into me. I supposed I should be grateful for whatever scraps he threw my way.
“But,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, dirty rumble that sent a shock straight to my core. “I would very much like to taste you. I want to eat your pussy, right here, if you will let me.”
Let him? I was already pulling my panties off. The moment his head dipped between my thighs, I thought I had died and gone to heaven. His mouth was a wicked thing, his tongue lapping at my slit, circling my clit until I was bucking against his face.
“Put a finger in me!” I begged, my hips grinding against his mouth. I was still buzzing from the cinema, and I could feel the pressure building fast, too fast.
He was gentle but firm. When his finger pushed inside, it felt massive, a brutal invasion into a space that had only ever known my own small fingers. For a fleeting second, I was almost grateful he wasn’t going to fuck me proper. The thick stretch of his single finger made me wonder if his monstrous cock would have split me in two. I gasped as he filled me, but there was no pain—just a deep, stretching fullness that quickly melted into a raw, incredible pleasure, especially when he started pumping it in and out.
He never let up with his tongue, flicking and sucking my clit while his finger fucked my tight, wet pussy. The combination shattered me. An orgasm ripped through my body, violent and total. I screamed, my back arching off the sun-warmed rock, my legs kicking wildly. He just held me tighter, his face buried in my cunt, drinking me in until the last, shuddering wave had torn through me.
I crawled over him, my body humming with energy. I covered his face with hungry kisses, my tongue lapping at the salty, tangy taste of my own juices that smeared his lips and chin. “Thank you, Felix,” I purred, my voice thick with lust. “Now, let me worship this body of yours.”
I made a feast of him. Starting at his feet, I painted a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses up his calves, the inside of his thighs, deliberately avoiding his thick, veined cock that stood rigid and waiting. I took his nipples into my mouth, sucking and nibbling on the dark nubs until they were as hard as pebbles. I explored the hard, tight planes of his stomach, driving my tongue deep into his navel, making him squirm and chuckle. I moved lower, kissing the firm, perfect globes of his ass, my face buried in his musk. I didn’t stop there; I spread his ass open and traced the dark, forbidden hole between his cheeks with the very tip of my tongue, tasting his pure, masculine scent.
Finally, I could wait no longer. I kissed my way up the sensitive skin of his ball sac, feeling the heavy weight of it against my lips, before I took the swollen head of his cock into my mouth.
He groaned, a deep, guttural sound from the pit of his stomach, and his whole body tensed. I wanted to drown him in pleasure, to make him feel the same mind-shattering ecstasy he had given me. He rolled onto his side, and I curled myself between his legs, taking as much of his length into my mouth as I could.
What I couldn’t swallow, I worked with my hand, my fist sliding up and down in a slick, twisting rhythm. He began to move, a slow, gentle thrusting of his hips, pushing himself deeper into my throat. I could feel his restraint, his care not to hurt me, and it only made me want to take more. His fingers tangled in my hair, not forcing, but guiding, as I sucked and slurped on his delicious shaft.
My free hand, slick with his own pre-cum and my saliva, drifted lower, sliding over the tight, muscular curves of his ass. He didn’t flinch or pull away, so I grew bolder, my fingers tracing the deep, hot divide between his cheeks. God, his ass was a thing of beauty, and touching him in this most forbidden place sent a fresh flood of heat between my own legs. I heard a deep, ragged groan rumble in his chest, and his entire body shuddered when my questing fingertip found its target: the tight, crinkled pucker of his asshole.
Holding my breath, terrified he would find it disgusting but driven by a raw, primal need, I began to circle the sensitive rim. I was gentle, just a feather-light, teasing tickle. His response was immediate and electric. His hips began to piston into my mouth with a new, frantic urgency, his cock swelling and throbbing against my tongue.
Emboldened by his pleasure, I threw all caution to the wind. I pressed the pad of my finger firmly against his butt hole, and with a gasp that was half-swallowed by my mouthful of his cock, his body yielded. He opened for me, sucking my finger into the second knuckle.
The feeling was indescribably wicked—to be inside him like that, to feel the hot, clenching tightness of his most private place. As I worked my mouth on his shaft, I began to move my finger inside him, a gentle, rhythmic fucking, mimicking the way he had taken my own pussy earlier.
The effect was volcanic. A guttural roar was torn from his throat, and his cock erupted in my mouth. Thick, hot ropes of his cum shot down my throat, one pulsating spurt after another. I swallowed greedily, milking him with my lips and hand, refusing to waste a single drop.
I didn’t stop until his body went limp and his oversensitive cock twitched in protest. As I finally released him, my slick finger slipped from his ass with a soft, wet pop. We collapsed together on the sun-warmed rock, our naked bodies tangled and spent, slick with sweat.
A small, nervous part of me wondered if he’d found it strange, my exploration of that secret, musky territory. But he said nothing, and soon his body began to speak a different, more urgent language. I felt the hot, slick tip of his penis, already hardening again, nudge against my stomach. Our kissing grew frantic, our hands roaming and grasping until he was rock-hard and I was a trembling, wet mess beneath him.
With a hungry growl, Felix rolled onto his back. I understood instantly, climbing atop him, but instead of facing him, I turned, lowering my dripping pussy onto his mouth while his thick, magnificent cock stood upright, begging for my attention. We settled into the perfect, filthy symmetry of a 69.
I was a woman possessed, utterly obsessed with the taste and feel of him. I lavished his shaft with licks and kisses, but mostly I used my hand, stroking him with a firm, twisting grip just so I could watch his face contort in pleasure. I was determined to see him lose control, to witness that powerful release once more.
Meanwhile, his own mouth was working a devastating magic between my thighs. His lips and tongue were tracing patterns that had me teetering on the very brink. My entire butt felt naked, exposed, and aching for his touch. The thought that had been a silent hope suddenly became a reality—I felt his hot breath ghost over the tight, forbidden pucker of my anus. Then, his tongue, bold and inquisitive, delved into the crease, exploring that most private place.
The sensation was so electric, so shockingly good, that I gasped, my hand flying on his cock in a wild, frantic rhythm. He didn’t stop. He slipped a finger deep into my ready, clutching pussy, and then, with a tentative flicker, his tongue pressed against my very asshole.
That was all it took.
My body shattered. A second, violent orgasm ripped through me, my back arching and my hips writhing, trying to force more of his tongue, more of his finger, deeper inside me. My cries of pleasure, muffled by his cock, must have been the final trigger for him. With a guttural roar, he erupted, his hot, thick come splashing across my cheeks and his own stomach in thick, gooey ropes.
Spent and panting, we lay in a heap of sweaty, satisfied limbs. I leaned down and licked the salty, potent droplets from his stomach, and he, in a move that sent a fresh thrill through me, leaned up and licked his own release from my face. We were a mess, a beautiful, filthy mess.
After a while, we dressed in a comfortable silence, the air still thick with the scent of sex. He dropped me at the end of my street, and I walked home, my body still humming, my skin still smelling of him. I knew, with a certainty that shook me, that I would do anything to feel that way again, and soon.
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