Manhattan Man Hunt Pt 13 ~ A romance sex story from sex story sites.

A voice, a man's voice - and a pool of light from a flashlight appearing like a small fallen moon on the grass, a moon drifting towards the bench, swinging in search of the dalmation! Anita beat with her fists on top of Tristan's head, clenched her legs against his head, released them and clenched again. It was useless, he just thought it was the effect he was having on her.

The dog barked again, as if wanting to share the discovery with her master. Anita drummed her heels against Tristan's back, then drew her head as far back into the hood as she could and lowered her face. The flashlight swung onto the bench and suddenly stopped moving.

It was a tableau which seemed to last for ever. Behind her closed eyes Anita had visions of a thousand heads suddenly appearing from a thousand windows to gape down at the sexual scene which had suddenly been revealed below, and each head calling on other heads to come and and look at the lewd lawyer letting herself be lasciviously licked on their lawn. She felt Tristam's head move from between her thighs and the fall of blessed darkness again as the flashlight was switched off.

The same voice which had called the dog was speaking to them, falling and rising in tone as the wind flung the words. "I'm sorry - I didn't know anybody was here - I was looking for my dog."

Tristan answered, in that Sean Connery voice, accentuated into upper class English english: "Quite alright, old boy, you can play through on this green. I'm afraid the lady was too impatient to wait until we got home."

"Yeah - right." There was an uncertain pause. "Vikki, Vikki. Come along - sorry, folks."

The dalmation finally lost interest in whatever these humans were doing and disappeared into the darkness. Tristan turned back towards Anita and carried on his task where he had left off, ignoring her scandalised protests until she fell into in irrepressible fit of giggles at the same time as she was being stimulated towards an uncontrollable climax. It was a combination of physiological events which had never happened to Anita before. But before she'd found a way of coming to terms with them both she was distracted by Tristan standing up.

He pulled the waistband of the track suit pants down, revealing a curved shape vaguely seen in the darkness, more like structural member than anything human. Anita cupped it between her palms, discovering a heat and a throbbing activity within it that belonged to a male animal. Then her fingers traced its dimensions.

'My God, it's larger than anything I've ever seen on anything except a stallion!'

"There you are, lassie, one slice of prime island haggis. A special treat for a girl who wants to taste the finer things in life."

She tweaked the foreskin and Tristan moved towards the bench, his hands on the back of the hood drawing it forward and closer to him, her head moving closer as well.

"It needs to be kept out of this cold wind or it might go down. If I put it inside the hood, will you help me keep it interested?"

"Yes, OK."

Anita steered the uptilted head of the cock into the hood, bending forward with her lips open to meet it at the entrance. A mouthful of hot, incredibly smooth skin, into and over the dip behind it, and as much of the thrusting shaft behind the head as she could take at first swallow. Her nose was brushing against his tightly curled hairs and the man smell flared into her nostrils, exciting her even more. Tristan's hands behind her head gently pressed in encouragement as she vigorously massaged him with her lips and tongue.

'I used to be damned good at this once. Never thought I'd ever end up as an old maid with so much time between blow jobs. Jees, I love doing this with the right sort of guy though. I wonder if that character with the flashlight is still around. Fuck him anyway, and fuck everybody else. I just hope Scottie here is getting the message that I'm ready to be beamed up.'

The big man was groaning with pleasure as his rampant prick twitched and pushed itself further and further underneath the hood until Anita was snorting with despair at dealing with any more.

"OK, Anita, that'll do for a minute."

He pulled back, put a hand into the top pocket of the track suit, took something out and tore at it with his teeth. A small shiny square of silvery paper blew away in the wind as Tristan discarded it and put his hands down on his cock, obviously rolling on a condom.