Picture's Obsession

The alarm sliced through the quiet of the bedroom like a knife, dragging me up from a half-dream of rough hands and open mouths. I slapped it off and lay there breathing hard, the sheet twisted around my bare thighs. Steve’s side of the bed was cold and empty. He had flown out yesterday for the three-day conference in Chicago and would not be back until late tomorrow night. The knowledge settled low in my belly and turned into something warmer, wetter.

I kicked the covers away and stretched, feeling the cool morning air kiss my skin. My nipples were already tight little points, the soft brown areolas puckered. I cupped both breasts and squeezed, rolling the stiff peaks between thumb and finger until a slow ache spread down between my legs. One hand slid lower, over the flat plane of my stomach, through the neat landing strip of dark hair, and pressed against the puffy lips of my cunt. I was already slick. Two fingers parted the folds and found the swollen bead of my clit. I circled it lazily, hips lifting off the mattress, while the other hand kept tormenting my nipples.

The vibrator waited in the nightstand. Long, slim, curved just right. I switched it on and dragged the buzzing tip up and down my slit, coating it in the juices that were already leaking out of me. When I could not stand the teasing anymore, I pushed it in, slow and deep, until the flared base nestled against my entrance and the vibrations thrummed straight against my G-spot. My free hand stayed on my clit, rubbing hard little circles while I fucked myself with the toy. The wet sounds filled the quiet room. My thighs trembled. I came hard, cunt clamping down on the humming shaft, juices flooding out around it and soaking the sheet beneath my ass. I kept the vibrator buried deep and rode the aftershocks until a second smaller orgasm rippled through me.

Only then did I let the toy slip free. I lay panting, thighs shiny, the smell of my own arousal thick in the air. A long shower followed, hot water sluicing over sensitive skin. I washed carefully between my legs, fingers lingering, but I did not let myself come again. I wanted to stay edged, hungry.

The dress I chose was thin white cotton, sleeveless, the hem brushing just above my knees. No bra. The soft fabric clung to my breasts so that the dark circles of my nipples showed clearly through the material. No panties either. The idea of walking around the city with my bare cunt under that thin skirt made my pulse jump. I slipped on simple sandals and caught a cab downtown.

The morning was already warm. A light breeze lifted the hem of the dress against the backs of my thighs as I walked through the outdoor mall. Every step reminded me I was naked underneath. My nipples scraped against the cotton with every movement. Men noticed. Their eyes lingered on the outline of my tits, on the way the fabric shifted around my hips. On the escalators, the bright overhead lights turned the dress almost transparent. I felt the stares on my bare ass and the dark shadow between my legs. The knowledge soaked my cunt even wetter. A thin trickle of juice slid down the inside of one thigh.

I stopped for lunch at a new place with a crowded patio. Salad and a large glass of cold white wine. The wooden chair was cool against my bare cheeks. I shifted, deliberately spreading my thighs a little so the air could touch my open pussy. By the time I finished the wine, the place was packed with the lunch-hour rush. Bodies pressed close at the bar when I went back inside for another drink. Someone bumped me from behind. Strong hands caught my hips to steady me.

I turned and looked straight into Sam’s face.

We had history. Last year, when Steve was out of town for a week, Sam had come over with a camera. What started as a few teasing photos had ended with me naked on the living-room floor, legs spread while he photographed every wet fold of my cunt and then fucked me until I screamed. We had not seen each other since, but the memory still made my pussy clench.

“Hi,” he said, voice low. His hands stayed on my hips a second longer than necessary. I felt the heat of his palms through the thin cotton.

“You still have those pictures?” I asked, leaning back so my ass pressed against the front of his trousers. The hard line of his cock was already there.

He swallowed. “Every single one.”

I reached behind me and traced the thick ridge with two fingers. “I’m not wearing anything under this dress. Want to check?”

His breath hitched. The crowd jostled us, everyone focused on getting their drinks. Sam’s hand slid down, gathered the fabric of my skirt, and slipped underneath. Warm fingers found the bare curve of my ass, squeezed, then drifted lower. He traced the crack, then dipped between my thighs from behind. One finger slid along my soaking slit and pushed inside without hesitation. I bit my lip to keep from moaning out loud. He fucked that single finger in and out slowly while the people around us ordered sandwiches and complained about the heat.

“Jesus, you’re dripping,” he murmured against my ear.

I pushed back onto his hand. “Take me outside. I want you to take more pictures.”

We found the same table I had used earlier. Most of the other patrons had their backs to us. Sam sat across from me. I handed him my phone. Then I leaned back, hiked the white dress up my thighs, and spread my knees. The soft lips of my cunt parted, shiny and pink, the little hole winking open. Sam’s eyes went dark. He raised the phone and started shooting.

I slid lower in the chair, opened wider, and used two fingers to spread myself for the camera. The cool air kissed my exposed clit. A group of guys at the next table laughed loudly about something; one of them glanced over and kept looking a second too long. My heart hammered. Juice leaked out of me and dripped onto the wooden seat. Sam kept taking pictures—close-ups of my stretched hole, of my fingers rubbing slow circles on my clit, of the wetness glistening on my inner thighs.

“Finger yourself,” he ordered quietly.

I pushed two fingers deep, curled them, and fucked my own cunt while he filmed. The wet sounds were soft but unmistakable if anyone had been listening closely. No one came over. The risk made everything sharper. My clit throbbed. I was close already.

Sam put the phone down, leaned across the table, and spoke so only I could hear. “There’s a parking garage two blocks over. My car is on the third level. Walk ahead of me. Don’t put the dress down.”

I stood on shaky legs, the hem still bunched high around my hips, and walked. The breeze licked my bare ass and open pussy the entire way. People passed us on the sidewalk. A delivery guy’s eyes locked on the dark thatch between my legs and stayed there until he nearly walked into a lamppost. My cunt clenched hard around nothing.

In the dim concrete of the parking garage Sam unlocked a dark sedan and opened the back door. I climbed in. He followed, shutting us into the relative privacy of the back seat. The windows were tinted. Still, anyone walking past at the right angle would see movement.

“Get that dress off,” he said.

I pulled it over my head and dropped it on the floor. Completely naked now, I sat with my back against the door, thighs open. Sam’s hands were everywhere—squeezing my tits, pinching the stiff nipples until I gasped, sliding down to spread my cunt wide with both thumbs. He lowered his head and licked a long slow stripe from my asshole all the way up to my clit. I tangled my fingers in his hair and held him there while he sucked the swollen bud between his lips and flicked it with his tongue. Two thick fingers pushed inside me and curled. The wet sounds of him eating my pussy filled the car. I came hard against his mouth, thighs clamping around his head, juices pouring onto his chin.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes glittering. “My turn.”

I slid to the floor of the back seat between his knees. He already had his cock out—thick, veined, the head shiny with precum. I wrapped both hands around the shaft and stroked, then opened my mouth and took him deep. The salty taste of him flooded my tongue. I hollowed my cheeks and sucked hard, bobbing my head, letting the fat head nudge the back of my throat. Spit ran down his balls. He groaned and fucked up into my mouth, one hand fisted in my hair.

“That’s it, take it all. Fucking dirty little exhibitionist. You loved flashing that wet cunt in the middle of the restaurant, didn’t you?”

I moaned around his cock and nodded as best I could. He held my head still and thrust deeper, using my mouth. When he pulled out I gasped for air, strings of spit connecting my lips to his glistening shaft. He wiped the head across my cheek, smearing precum and spit, then fed it back between my lips.

I sucked him until his thighs tensed and he pulled free with a wet pop. “Get up here. I want that pussy on my cock.”

I climbed onto his lap, facing him. He held his shaft steady while I sank down. The thick head stretched me open, then the rest of him slid deep in one long push until I was fully seated, stuffed full. We both groaned. I started to ride him, slow at first, then harder, the wet slap of my cunt on his cock loud in the quiet car. My tits bounced in his face. He sucked one nipple into his mouth and bit down just hard enough to make me cry out.

Someone walked past the car—footsteps on concrete, a brief shadow. We froze for half a second, my cunt still gripping his cock, then I started moving again, slower, deeper. The risk made every stroke electric. Sam’s hands clamped on my ass, spreading the cheeks so he could watch his thick shaft disappear into my stretched hole over and over.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Dripping all over my balls. You want me to fill this slutty cunt?”

“Yes—please—cum in me—”

He thrust up hard, meeting every downward slam of my hips. The car rocked slightly. I came first, cunt spasming around him, a gush of fluid soaking his lap. He followed seconds later, burying himself to the root and pumping thick ropes of cum deep inside me. I felt every pulse, the hot flood of it. When he finally softened I stayed on his lap, his cock still inside, our mixed juices leaking out around the base and running down his balls.

We cleaned up with tissues from the glove box, but not thoroughly. I wanted to feel his cum sliding down my thighs as I walked. I pulled the white dress back on, still no panties. Sam tucked himself away and grinned.

“We’re not done,” he said. “There’s a little park three blocks from here. Trees. Benches. Almost empty this time of day.”

We walked. His cum was already seeping out of me, a warm trickle that wet the insides of my thighs. In the park we found a secluded bench half-hidden by low branches. I sat. Sam stood in front of me, casually blocking the view from the path. I reached under my dress, scooped two fingers full of his cum from my still-open cunt, and licked them clean while looking up at him.

“Take more pictures,” I whispered.

He did. Me with my legs spread on the public bench, dress hiked to my waist, his thick white cum dripping from my used hole. Me with three fingers buried inside myself, pushing more of his load out. Me leaning forward, tits hanging free as the straps of the dress slipped down, sucking my own fingers clean of our combined juices.

A jogger passed on the main path twenty yards away. He slowed, staring. I did not close my legs. Sam kept the phone up, filming. The jogger eventually moved on, but the flush of pure exhibitionist heat that flooded me was almost enough to make me come again without being touched.

Sam put the phone away, sat beside me, and slid two fingers straight into my cum-filled cunt. He fucked them in and out while his thumb worked my clit. I leaned back against the bench, thighs wide, dress open, and rode his hand in the open air until I came with a broken cry that any passerby could have heard. My juices mixed with his earlier load and soaked his palm.

We were both still hungry. He pulled me to my feet and led me deeper into the trees until we found a thick trunk that screened us from the path. I braced my hands against the bark, bent forward, and lifted the back of my dress. Sam freed his cock—already hard again—and drove into me from behind in one hard thrust. The sudden stretch made me gasp. He fucked me deep and steady, one hand reaching around to rub my clit, the other gripping my hip hard enough to leave marks.

Every time footsteps sounded nearby he slowed but did not stop. The risk of being caught with his cock buried in my married cunt only made me wetter. I pushed back to meet every thrust, the wet sounds of our fucking loud among the leaves. He reached under me, cupped a swinging tit, and pinched the nipple roughly.

“Anyone could walk around that tree right now and see this. See this fat cock stretching your married pussy. See how much you love it.”

“I do—fuck, I love it—harder—”

He gave me harder. The slap of his hips against my ass echoed. I came again, harder than before, walls clamping down so tight he cursed and followed, flooding me with another heavy load. When he pulled out a thick river of cum ran down my thighs and dripped onto the dirt between my feet.

We cleaned up as best we could with leaves and spit. My dress was wrinkled and damp in places. My hair was a mess. I did not care. We walked back toward the main street, my legs unsteady, his cum still leaking out of me with every step.

Sam stopped at a café and ordered two coffees to go. While we waited he pulled me into a narrow alley beside the building. He pushed me against the brick wall, hiked my dress again, and dropped to his knees. His tongue pushed into my cum-soaked cunt, licking out his own load mixed with my juices. I held the back of his head and ground against his mouth, not caring who might glance down the alley. He sucked my clit until I came one more time, thighs shaking, fresh wetness coating his face.

Only then did we collect the coffees. He walked me to a taxi, kissed me hard, and promised to send every photo and video later that night. I rode home with my thighs pressed together, the wet heat of his cum still seeping out of me, the thin white dress clinging to my skin.

At home I showered again, but not thoroughly. I left some of him inside me. When Steve called that evening I answered on the third ring, still naked on the bed, two fingers slowly working in and out of my tender, well-used cunt.

“How was your day?” he asked.

I smiled, feeling another slow trickle of Sam’s cum slide out onto the sheet.

“You first,” I said. “Because you are never going to believe the day I just had…”