The Blowjob in the Park My Lover Asked For

My name is Nadia, and for some time now, my marriage has been barely functioning. My husband travels too much, comes home tired, and when he is there, he hardly looks at me as a woman. I had already stopped pretending that was enough for me. That is why I have lovers—occasional encounters, men with whom I release from my body what builds up at home like hunger.

One of them, my favorite for certain things, knows exactly what my weakness is. He does not seek me out to take me to dinner or send me silly romantic messages. He looks for me when he wants to unload, and he knows it drives me crazy to get on my knees, open my mouth, and feel a hard cock weighing on my tongue.

That afternoon he wrote to me without beating around the bush.

—My cock is bursting and full for you. I need you to suck me.

I barely finished reading the message before I smiled. I was indisposed, my period having just started, and I was planning to stay home watching some series until I fell asleep. But as soon as I saw those words, I felt the familiar tug between my legs, that heat that rises through me not only from my pussy, but also into my throat.

—I can’t fuck —I replied—. I’m on my period.

He took little time to answer.

—I didn’t ask you to fuck. I asked for that mouth of yours.

I bit my lip. With him, it was always that simple. No games, no pretending to be proper, no false delicacy. And the truth was, I did not need anything more either. There are days when I do not want anyone to spread my legs; I want to suck, play with a cock in my mouth, feel it swell, throb, and start dripping before it comes.

—Tell me where —I wrote.

We arranged to meet an hour later. I dressed the way I like to when I know I am going to provoke him. A generous neckline, tight jeans, sandals, perfume on my neck and tits. Since I was not going to let him penetrate me, I chose clothes that were easy to open up top and easy to keep on below. I had one mission, and it excited me to have it so clearly in mind.

He came to pick me up in his car, and the moment I got in, he looked me up and down with that hungry expression that always turns me on.

—You came to make me suffer —he said, staring at my cleavage.

—I came to empty you —I replied.

He chuckled softly and drove off.

We went to a large park, the kind that is half-empty at night, with dark paths, isolated benches, and cars parked in corners where nobody asks too many questions. The city was still alive a few blocks away, but inside everything became quieter, dirtier, more conducive to doing things that are not said out loud.

He parked near some trees, in an area where the streetlamps barely reached. Before he even turned off the engine, his hand was on my thigh. I squeezed my legs together instinctively, not to reject him, but to feel the heat of his fingers against the fabric better.

—I missed this mouth —he murmured.

—And I missed your taste.

He leaned over and kissed me hungrily. It was not a gentle kiss. He pushed his tongue in as if he were already fucking my mouth with it, and I sucked it just as I was going to suck his cock afterward, knowing it drove him crazy. His hand squeezed one of my tits over my blouse and I moaned against his mouth. I loved it when he started there, when he treated my tits as if they were a toy made to his exact specifications.

We got out of the car without saying much more. The night air was cool, but my body was already hot. He pressed me against the door and kissed me again while sliding his hand into my cleavage. He unclasped my bra with the ease that only familiarity brings and left my tits bare in the middle of the darkness.

—This is how I wanted to see you —he said.

He lowered his head and sucked one nipple hard. I let out a sharp, immediate moan. He kneaded the other with his hand, squeezing just enough to make me more sensitive. He already knows that when my tits are sucked properly, with real hunger, my knees go weak. And I know that if I find his cock through his pants while he is doing it, we will both end up in an even worse state.

I slipped my hand between our bodies and grabbed him. He was truly hard, stretching the fabric. I rubbed the bulge slowly while he kept sucking one nipple and then the other, alternating soft bites with long licks. Each tug made me arch a little farther. I was breathing fast, almost panting, and I could feel him getting even hotter just from hearing me.

—I’ve wanted you so badly —he said, lifting his face.

—Then let me do what I came to do.

We moved to the front of the car and he leaned against the hood. I ran my hands over his torso, his belt, his zipper. I love those seconds before taking it out, when I already know what awaits me but still cannot see it. There is an animal anxiety in that moment. Mine is not about romance. It is hunger.

I got on my knees in front of him and looked up for a second. His jaw was tense and his breathing heavy. I undid his pants, lowered the zipper, and slipped my hand inside his boxers. He was burning. When I pulled it out, thick and already wet at the tip, I felt desire strike me full force.

—Look how it is for you —he said.

I kissed his stomach below the navel and moved lower. Before putting it in my mouth, I slowly licked from his balls to the tip. A hoarse moan escaped him, the kind men do not let out unless they are extremely turned on. I lingered down below, sucking his balls one by one, feeling them move and tighten. Then I returned to his cock and kissed the shining head.

He was already leaking that clear fluid that comes before the orgasm, salty and hot, exactly the taste that awakens my vice the most. I calmly ran my tongue around the tip, gathering every drop.

—Mmm... you’re already dripping —I told him—. I want to swallow all of you.

—Then suck like you know how, slut. All this cum is yours.

That made me tremble with pleasure. I get incredibly turned on when I am spoken to that way at exactly the right moment, when the language gets dirty and makes it clear what place we both occupy. I opened my mouth wide and took him all the way in as far as he went the first time. Heavy, hot, alive. At first I settled into a rhythm, slowly moving my head up and down so I could savor him properly.

I kept my tongue flat beneath him, and each time I came back up, I stopped at the tip to suck it hard. At first he stroked my hair, still gentle. Then he began to grip me more firmly, guiding me. I let him. I always let him when I am like this, focused on a cock, enjoying that mixture of submission and control that sucking gives you, because it looks as if you are obeying, but at the same time you are the one controlling the pleasure.

I wrapped one hand around the base and brought the other to his balls, massaging them while I sucked him. The wet sounds of my mouth filled that corner of the park. Whenever I slowed down to breathe, I spat a little on the tip and swallowed him again, making it dirtier, slicker, more animalistic.

—That’s it, that’s it... don’t stop —he said through his teeth.

I obeyed him. I sucked him deep, letting him fuck my mouth when he began thrusting his hips forward. I felt the tip touching the back of my throat, and instead of bothering me, it turned me on even more. I pulled him out just enough to breathe and saw a strand of saliva hanging between my lips and his cock. That image alone made me even sluttier.

I put him back in, this time faster. I looked up at him while I worked him with my mouth. His eyes were fixed on me, on my tits still exposed, on the way they moved with every sway of my head. He put one hand on a nipple and pinched it. I moaned without letting go of his cock, and the vibration made him tremble.

—Fuck, you’re going to make me come —he growled.

I took my mouth off him and gave him several long, slow licks from the base to the tip. Then I rubbed him over my face, my lips, and my cheek before opening myself to him again. I loved feeling dirty that way, marked by his smell and taste. By then my chin was wet, and I did not care at all.

—Come whenever you want —I told him—. Give me all your cum in my mouth.

It was like giving him permission to lose himself. He grabbed my hair firmly and began setting the pace, really fucking my mouth. Not brutally, but decisively. I let him push me and accompanied him with my hand, squeezing the base when he could not go any deeper. Every thrust filled my throat and made my eyes water a little, just enough to drive him crazy.

—That’s it... like that... swallow it all —he said, breathing worse and worse.

I sped up. Mouth, hand, tongue, saliva. Everything coordinated to milk him dry. His legs tensed, and I knew before he said anything. When a man is about to come, his entire body gives him away. He grows harder, gives himself over more completely, and starts trembling beforehand.

—I’m going to come —he warned.

I did not take my mouth away. On the contrary, I took him as deep as I could and held him there, feeling the first powerful throb of his orgasm. He suddenly filled my mouth, hot and thick, in several spurts. I swallowed without pulling away, again and again, while continuing to suck him to draw out every last drop. The taste exploded across my tongue, and in that moment I thought of nothing else. Only continuing, emptying him completely, earning every jet.

He moaned above me, twisting, one hand still in my hair and the other braced against the hood so he would not lose his balance. Hearing him turned me on almost as much as the cum in my mouth. When the flow weakened, I kept sucking him more slowly, cleaning him with my tongue, gently milking him until he began to soften.

Only then did I pull away. I lifted my face, looked at him, and opened my mouth for a second to show him that I had left nothing behind. Then I swallowed the last of it.

—What an incredible fucking mouth you have —he said, still breathless.

I stood up slowly. My knees were a little tender from the hard ground, my tits were still out, and my face was surely a complete mess. And I felt beautiful. The kind of beauty that has nothing elegant about it and everything to do with satisfied vice. I turned around and pressed my back to his chest. He hugged me from behind, putting his hands on my bare tits and squeezing them hard.

—Did you like it, Daddy? —I asked, teasing him.

—I loved it. And did you like swallowing it?

I let out a short laugh.

—I always like your cum. You know that.

He kept kissing my neck while rubbing my breast. I could feel his cock, already half-soft, still resting against my ass over my clothes. For many men, the hunger goes away immediately after they come. Not always for him. And even less so with me, because he knows that if he leaves me near a cock, sooner or later I will want it in my mouth again.

We straightened our clothes and returned to the car. I thought that was where the encounter ended, that he would drop me near my house and each of us would continue with our night. But halfway there, as he drove with one hand and stroked my thigh with the other, I noticed he was aroused again.

—Don’t fuck with me —I said, watching him touch himself over his pants.

—It’s because you left me alive —he replied with a smile—. I need you again.

I moistened my lips. I had no trouble believing him. Some men are ready for a second round after a good blowjob if you do not completely let them go, and I had kept sucking him until I made him tremble. Far from turning him off, that had left him sensitive and wanting more.

He parked on a quiet street before reaching the place where I was getting out. He turned off the engine and turned toward me. He lowered his pants a little and showed me his cock, already rising again, less hard than before but clearly ready to keep playing.

—Look at it —he said—. Come in the back with me.

I looked at the front windows, which were too exposed for my taste, and pointed toward the back seat.

—Not in front. In back, and crouch down, so nobody can see anything if someone passes by.

We climbed into the back of the car. The space was tighter there, which made everything more urgent. He reclined a little, and I settled between his legs. This time there were no long preliminaries. We had already gotten hot enough. As soon as he had it out, I grabbed it again with one hand and gave the tip short, quick licks, teasing him immediately.

His first orgasm had left him more sensitive, and it showed. Every suck drew a more intense reaction from him. I played with that sensitivity, switching from gentle licking to closing my lips tightly around the head. When he moaned, I smiled and kept going. The second blowjob had a different tone: less ceremonial, more compulsive, more about taking advantage of the remaining desire until I left him dry.

—Fuck, that mouth again —he murmured.

I spat a little on him and began jerking him with firm movements, taking him in sections, letting him slip out only so I could kiss the tip and swallow him again. In the back seat of the car, with the smell of leather, perfume, and sex already settled in, everything felt more clandestine. Every sound from outside gave me a little jolt of adrenaline that made me even more desperate.

He moved my hair away from my face and watched me suck him.

—You’re an addict —he said.

I took my mouth off him just long enough to answer.

—Yes. Addicted to sucking cocks and swallowing cum.

I put him back in all the way. This time I used my throat more, with a shorter, steadier rhythm, helping with my hand at the base. I brought my other hand to his balls again, giving them a slight tug and massaging them the way I know he likes. The combination quickly undid him. It was not long before he began panting again in that uncontrolled tone that announces the end.

—Don’t make me stop now —he begged.

I looked at him and shook my head without letting go. Then I sped up. Fast mouth, firm hand, hard tongue on the tip every time it came out. The seat creaked beneath his movements. I could feel my jaw getting tired, and at the same time I was more absorbed than ever in the pleasure of doing it. For me, there is something deeply exciting about devoting myself to that without hurrying, as if my only job were to get another orgasm out of him.

And I did.

—I’m going... I’m going... —he managed to say.

I kept his cock in my mouth when he came for the second time. It was not as large an amount as the first, but it was still an intense, hot, equally thick release. He dropped it onto my tongue, and I swallowed it little by little, wasting nothing. I kept sucking for a few more seconds, carefully milking him until he could not give me another drop.

I pulled away very slowly. I cleaned the tip with my tongue and then sat beside him, breathing hard. His head was resting against the backrest, and the look of raw satisfaction on his face made me proud of the work I had done.

—Twice in one night —I said—. Not bad at all.

—With you, it’s easy —he replied.

He took me by the nape and kissed me. I still had his taste in my mouth, and I did not mind sharing it at all. In fact, it turned me on. There is something obscene and perfect about kissing a man right after swallowing his cum. It is like closing the circle.

We stayed silent for a moment, straightening our clothes. I pulled up my bra, fastened my blouse, and ran my fingers through my hair to look more presentable. He finished dressing and let out a tired laugh.

—I’d leave you the car keys just so you could wait here for me every time I felt like it.

—And I would come if you gave me enough notice —I replied—. But next time, bring me even more cum.

He laughed louder. He knew I was not saying it just for the sake of saying it. I like sucking. I truly do, with a taste for it that I no longer pretend to dress up. I like feeling a hard cock on my tongue, having my mouth filled, swallowing, continuing even when they are already starting to soften. I like seeing their faces when they understand that it is not an act or a pose, that I genuinely enjoy being the woman who kneels and empties them to the very last drop.

He dropped me near my house and, before I got out, squeezed my thigh.

—Next time, if you’re not indisposed, I want all of you.

I looked at him and smiled.

—Next time we’ll start with my mouth and finish however you want.

I got out of the car with the salty taste still clinging to my palate and a heavy satisfaction in my body. I walked to my door with that sense of a mission accomplished that only certain encounters leave me with. There was no love, no promises, no pretty lies. Only desire, habit, secrecy, and a weakness of mine that I understand better every time.

And if there is one thing I learned long ago, it is this: there are nights when I do not need to be fucked to go to bed aroused and content. Sometimes all I need is a hard cock, a dark corner, and the chance to kneel down and use my mouth for exactly what I like most.