Needless to say that night she called, she wasn’t upset, just alone and bored. We met in a car park, she parked up and came to join me in my car. She looked different, she’d made extra effort, which wasn’t needed really but none the less, didn’t go unnoticed. We chatted and decided we’d go to somewhere for a stiff drink, rather than a coffee. We pulled in a carpark which was pretty gloomy. It acted as an overspill for the cinema nearby. I noticed that her skirt had hitched up slightly, nothing major, just enough to catch my eye. As I reached to unhook the belt from my shoulder and leaning to open the door, I felt her hand push down on my left thigh. I turned round to see what the problem was, she looked at me, and without saying a word leant forward, as she moved closer she whispered “when are you going to let me have you…” I needed no more words, no more hitching of the skirt, no more looks…I gripped the back of her hair loosely at first as we started kissing, within seconds it. Then I shoved my head, slowly and deliberately upwards, wriggling my sweaty long hair and rough face against her stomach, her solar plexus, snorting her sweaty skin as I felt the top of my head and forehead rub up against her tight teenage bra. She could feel her body trying to twist away but I was pinning her down. She screamed. A distant muffled, trapped scream. I half kissed, half munched on her skin around her stomach with my lips, half aware that my cock was bouncing and rubbing up against the sides of her legs, sometimes grazing the hem of her skirt. I squeezed her hips with my thighs. I almost gushed. I could feel the tightness of her t-shirt over my head and the tops of my shoulders, the tension seemed to be keeping my face buried in her stomach and ribs. I started licking her deliciously, my eyes catching glimpses of her simple pink cotton bra. Both of my hands slid up the sides of her body, up along her ribs. My wrists caught her t-shirt and I pushed it up all the way so.
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