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An older man finds a horny eighteen year old girl at the local pond in the middle of the night. All she wants is sex.
The moon hovered low and heavy in the velvet night sky, casting a soft, silvery glow over the quiet streets of Montvale Circle in the Indiana countryside. It was a stillness that made the occasional cricket song feel like a declaration, echoing through the neighborhood. The air had the scent of blooming flowers, a sweet, almost cloying perfume that seemed to thicken the shadows. In the midst of this serene tableau, a solitary figure strolled, the soft thud of their sneakers against the pavement the only sound to disturb the peace.
“Hey, you,” a voice called out, a gentle whisper that seemed to carry on the night air. I turned to see a young girl, maybe eighteen, standing by the edge of the pond. She wore a simple white tank top and a pair of shorts that barely concealed the curve of her ass. Her eyes, wide and curious, searched mine as she stepped closer. “You out for a walk?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” I replied, feeling a peculiar tension coil in my stomach as she approached. She looked at me with a knowing smile, one that suggested she understood the insomniac’s dance all too well. Her name was Betty Scott, she said, and she was up because of a bet with her friends. A dare to visit the pond at midnight. She looked up at me, a challenge in her gaze. “Wanna join me?”
Betty’s hand found mine, her touch warm and slightly sticky from the candy she’d been eating. She led me down the path, the sound of our footsteps now muffled by the soft grass beneath us. The pond’s surface was like a mirror, reflecting the stars above. Frogs croaked a bass line to the cricket’s melody. The water looked inviting, a dark, cool embrace that whispered promises of relief from the oppressive heat.
The air grew thick with something else as we stood by the water’s edge â something electric and pulsing. Betty looked up at me, her eyes dark with a hunger that made my heart stumble in my chest. Then, without a word, she leaned in and pressed her lips to mine. It was a kiss filled with a surprising urgency, her tongue slipping between my teeth to explore my mouth. She tasted faintly of mint and something sweeter, something forbidden. I felt my cock stir, responding to the sudden intimacy.
Her hand slid down my chest, her nails lightly raking my skin as she reached for the hem of my shirt. She pulled it up over my head, breaking the kiss just long enough to toss it aside. Her eyes traveled down my body, lingering on the bulge growing in my pants. The smile that curved her lips was full of mischief. “You’re not so bad for an old man,” she murmured, her voice a low purr.
Her words sent a thrill through me, a delicious mix of arousal and something darker. I knew I should stop this, that it was wrong, but the way she looked at me, the way she touched me, made it impossible to resist. I reached for the button of her shorts, pulling them down to expose her bare, nubile body to the night air. Her skin was pale and smooth, her pussy already wet with anticipation.
Betty stepped out of her shorts, leaving them in a pool at her ankles. She kicked them away and reached behind her to unhook her bra. It fell away, revealing her perfect, pert breasts, the nipples already hard with desire. She took a step closer, her naked body brushing against mine, and took my hand, placing it on her left breast.
Her skin was hot and soft, her heart beating a wild tattoo against my palm. She closed her eyes, her breath coming in shallow gasps as I began to knead her flesh, feeling her nipple tighten further under my touch. Her hand found its way to my pants, and with a deft flick of her wrist, she had them open.
With a greedy little moan, she pulled out my cock. It was thick and hard, pointing at the sky like a compass needle seeking true north. She leaned down, her hair cascading around us, and took me in her mouth. The sudden wetness, the warmth, the pressure â it was all too much. I groaned, my head falling back as she began to suck me with a skill that seemed far beyond her years. Her tongue swirled around the head of my cock, tracing the veins that stood out like ropes along the shaft.
Her eyes remained on mine, those dark pools of mischief watching my every reaction, as if she were memorizing the map of my pleasure. I felt my balls tighten, my orgasm building like a crescendo within me. “Betty,” I managed to choke out, “you’re going to make me cum.”
Her eyes widened, and she nodded eagerly, not breaking the rhythm of her sucking. She was eager for it, eager to take it all. I felt the first spurt of cum build, and then she was there, her mouth moving faster, her cheeks hollowing as she took my cock deep, deep enough to make me see stars.
And then it happened â I came. I came in her mouth, the hot spurts of my cum filling her, her tongue dancing around the tip of my cock to capture every drop. She swallowed, her throat working, and then she pulled back, her lips glistening in the moonlight. She looked up at me, her expression one of pure satisfaction, as if she’d just conquered something monumental.
The world seemed to still around us as she got to her feet. She was beautiful, a nymph of the night, her body lit by the moon’s soft glow. Her breasts swayed gently, the nipples still hard, begging to be touched. And she knew it. She placed a hand on her hip and licked her lips, a gesture that was both innocent and incredibly seductive.
“Now, it’s your turn,” she said, her voice a sultry whisper that sent a shiver down my spine. I didn’t need to be told twice. My eyes raked over her body, taking in every inch of her, from the swell of her hips to the patch of dark hair between her legs. She stepped closer, pressing herself against me, her breasts flattening against my chest.
I reached out, my hands cupping her ass, feeling the firm flesh beneath my palms. I squeezed, and she gasped, her eyes fluttering shut. I leaned down and kissed her again, tasting myself on her lips, the sweetness of my cum mixing with the mint on her tongue. She wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me closer, her legs parting slightly to allow me better access.
With a growl that was more animal than human, I slammed her down onto the grass, the dampness of the earth seeping into my knees as I settled between her legs. She looked up at me, her eyes wide with lust, her chest heaving with excitement. “Take me,” she begged, her voice needy, desperate. “Please, fuck me.”
And so, I did. I slid into her, feeling her tight, wet warmth envelop me, her pussy squeezing around my cock like a velvet fist. She was tight, so tight, and her walls quivered around me, her hips rising to meet my every thrust. The night air was filled with the sound of our passion, the slap of flesh on flesh, the wet sounds of our bodies joining.
We moved together, a dance as old as time itself, the moon our silent partner as we sought release. The tension built, winding tighter and tighter, until it snapped. Betty’s body arched off the ground, her back bowed, and she screamed my name as she came, her pussy clamping down on me in a delicious vise.
The orgasm ripped through me, a wildfire consuming every inch of my being. I thrust into her once, twice, three times more, and then I was there, spilling into her, our bodies joined in a way that felt both right and wrong, but oh so good. We lay there, panting, the aftershocks of pleasure still rippling through us, the night air cooling our sweat-slicked skin.
In that moment, we were the only two people in the world, lost in a haze of passion and desire. And as the night went on, we’d find ourselves at the pond again and again, our clandestine meetings becoming a secret ritual, a delicious taste of the forbidden that neither of us could resist.
The next time, Betty was the one to initiate, pulling me into the water before we’d even had the chance to shed our clothes. The cool liquid enveloped us, the moon reflecting off the rippling surface as we kissed beneath it. Her lithe body writhed against mine, her legs wrapping around my waist as I supported her, my cock growing hard against her stomach. She reached down and guided me inside her, the water offering a gentle lubrication as we fucked in the shallows, the sound of our breaths mixing with the croaks of the frogs.
Betty was insatiable, her youthful energy seemingly boundless. She’d ride me with an enthusiasm that was infectious, her eyes never leaving mine as she bobbed up and down, the water sloshing around us. I could feel her tighten around me, her nails digging into my shoulders as she whispered sweet nothings in my ear, urging me to fill her up. And when I did, her cries of pleasure were like music, echoing across the stillness of the pond.
Our encounters grew bolder, more experimental. We discovered the thrill of watching each other masturbate, the delicious torment of edging ourselves to the brink before finally allowing release. We’d lie on the soft grass, the dew cool against our naked bodies, and take turns bringing each other to climax, our hands and mouths exploring every inch of bare skin.
One night, she whispered something new into my ear as she straddled me, her breasts bouncing with every bounce of her hips. “I want you to cum inside me,” she panted, her voice thick with need. And with that, she leaned back, her hands braced against my chest, and took me even deeper, her pussy pulsing around me until I could hold back no longer.
Our secret trysts continued, each more intense and more satisfying than the last. Betty was a sexual goddess, a siren luring me in with every meeting. And as the summer nights grew shorter and the air grew crisper, I knew that our time was limited. The thought of it ending made every moment with her feel more precious, more vital.
But as the leaves began to turn, so too did the tides of our desire. The nights grew colder, and the pond no longer held the allure it once had. Yet, even as the seasons changed, our need for each other remained, a flame that could not be extinguished by the frost. We sought out new, secret places to continue our explorations, the thrill of discovery only adding to the heat between us.
The story of Betty and me grew into a tapestry of stolen moments and shared ecstasy, a tale that unfolded with every touch, every kiss, every time our bodies met in the dark of the night. It was a story that neither of us would ever forget, a story that would shape us both in ways we hadn’t yet imagined.
One night, as the chill of autumn began to nip at the edges of our secret world, Betty looked at me with a hunger in her eyes that was more intense than ever before. “There’s something I want to try,” she whispered, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Something… new.”
Her hand traveled down my stomach, her fingertips brushing the line of my pubic hair before coming to rest on the base of my cock. “I want you to fuck my ass,” she said, her voice low and needy. The words hung in the air between us, charged with a desire that sent a bolt of electricity straight to my groin.
I’d never done it before, but the way she looked at me, the way her body trembled with anticipation, made it impossible to refuse. I nodded, my heart racing as she turned over, presenting herself to me with a vulnerability that made me feel both powerful and protective. Her ass was perfect, the pale curves of her cheeks glowing in the moonlight, the tight rosette beckoning me closer.
Gently, I spread her cheeks apart, my cock already slick with pre-cum and her juices. I slid the tip against her puckered entrance, feeling her tense for a moment before she relaxed, allowing me to push inside. She gasped, her nails digging into the grass, as I began to fill her up. It was tight, so much tighter than her pussy, and the sensation was unlike anything I’d ever felt.
Her eyes squeezed shut as I pushed in further, the head of my cock popping through the tight ring of muscle. “It hurts,” she whimpered, but the arch of her back and the way she pushed back against me told a different story. I stilled, giving her body a chance to adjust, my own breaths coming in ragged gasps.
“Keep going,” she begged, her voice a mix of pain and pleasure. And so, I did. I pushed in inch by inch, watching her face contort with every movement, until I was buried to the hilt. The feeling was indescribable, her ass clutching at me like a fist, her pussy soaking wet with arousal.
I began to move, slowly at first, my hips rocking back and forth as I found a rhythm that seemed to resonate through both of us. She moaned, her body shaking with every thrust, her cries growing louder as the pain gave way to something more primal.
“Fuck me,” she panted, her voice a siren’s song that I couldn’t resist. “Fuck me hard.” And so, I did. I gave her what she wanted, my hips slamming into her, the sound of our bodies colliding echoing through the deserted park.
Her orgasm was explosive, her body convulsing around me as she screamed into the night. I felt her ass clench and release, a symphony of sensation that sent me spiraling over the edge. I came deep inside her, the warmth of her body surrounding me, the feeling of our union complete.
As we lay there, the cold earth beneath us, the stars above, I knew that nothing would ever be the same. Our secret had grown deeper, darker, more intense. And as we held each other, our breaths mingling in the chilly air, I realized that I was lost to Betty Scott, and she to me. The allure of the forbidden had claimed us both, and we were forever bound by the ties of our illicit passion.
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