It doesn't always work out to my advantage, but in my twenty five years my 'rise to any challenge' attitude has gotten me more positive results than I've seen in my more staid friends' lives.
Such was the case when I was seeing Daniel. He was a tall, handsome man, and knew how to push all of my buttons. We spent a summer together, and I learned more about sex in that summer than I have with any of my other lovers. So, I imagine, did he.
It had all started off innocently enough; as innocent as anything does in the midst of a passionate affair in which the only thing you really share with each other is an insatiable hunger for each other's bodies.
Daniel and I had spent the afternoon in bed, and the sun was beginning to set. A warm orange glow filled my bedroom, and I could have purred from the contentment I felt with his hands running over me. A whole afternoon of play, and I was still yearning for his touch, meeting it where I could.
"I think we'll go out tomorrow." It was a statement, one which sounded completely like I had no say in the matter whatsoever.
"Do you?" I asked, propping myself up on one elbow as I studied him. My small palm slid down his chest, circling the perfect pink nipples and dipping lower into the hair below his navel.
"Yes. And you're to wear a skirt. Short. No underwear."
I wasn't sure that I liked his tone, despite how hot the outfit sounded. However, when I opened my mouth to protest, he kissed me.
After he'd ravaged my mouth, he smirked at me, a dimple showing in his left cheek as he did it. "If you protest, you'll have to go without a bra too."
His eyes were daring me. I knew it, just as I knew that what I wore the next day would be entirely up to me. But it was a challenge, and I liked challenges.
The next morning I slipped into the tiniest skirt I owned, matching it with a plain tee, and nothing else. I'd show him what I thought of his mocking graciousness in 'allowing' me to wear a bra.
When he saw me, he only smirked, and I couldn't help but tremble in anticipation. I knew what had to be coming. A guy didn't tell a girl to wear clothes that made her so easily accessible without, well, accessing her.
But Daniel knew a thing or two about prolonging the foreplay, and lord was this foreplay. The breeze lifted my skirt slightly as we walked. On one hand the breeze served to cool my heated flesh, something for which I was grateful, but with every small lift in the air, my skirt would rise, nearly exposing me to anyone who cared to look.
I was wetter than I'd ever been, and Daniel barely seemed to notice. He walked with his arm around me, hand on my hip, and occasionally he would let long fingers trail down to toy with the hem of it. A couple times I had to bite my tongue to keep from pleading with him to touch me.
Just when I would begin to fidget from the pool of heat that he was stirring in me with his light touches, he would stop.
We lasted an hour. He'd walked me through the busiest area of town. There was construction, a new bank going in, or something, and the workers were below us. Had any of them looked up, they'd have seen everything. And then he paraded me through the mall.
He taunted me, inching my skirt up at the back ever so slightly, and I ached from it, torn between loving the thrill and hating that he could play my desires so skillfully. If he had wanted to sit on one of those stupid over-stuffed chairs in the middle of the mall and have me straddle him there for all to watch, I'd have done it.
As it was, he pulled me to a photo booth and hiked the stool up as high as it would go, the seat nearly visible in the shot. A lap certainly would be. He smirked at me again as he slid his change into the slot and then I was on the seat, legs wide as he dipped his head to taste me.
He licked lightly at first, teasing me, and I bit my tongue to keep from moaning. We were technically in public, and this sort of thing was frowned upon. But as his tongue circled my clit and he slid two long fingers into me I couldn't help but gasp. And the first light flashed.
Feet were passing outside the booth and I realized that once these photos were done anyone could see them; the thought only served to turn me on more. There was a sense of the unknown that I'd never felt before, and I writhed under his ministrations. He sucked on my clit and I came with a shuddering sob as the second flash went off.
He wasted no time in loosing his already hard cock from the confines of the trousers he'd been wearing, and he maneuvered himself onto the seat, settling me on top of him. I was still trembling from the aftermath of my climax, but he slid into me and I was hard pressed not to groan. The third flash went off.
We had little time before the fourth and final flash was to go off, and I worked as quickly as I was able, bouncing on top of him for a moment before he stiffened. "I'm going to come," he murmured, and I slid off of him to take him into my mouth.
The look on his face was one of surprise as my mouth closed over his shaft. He fisted his hands into my hair as I sucked on him, and he came as the final light flashed.
I swallowed quickly and the two of us took a moment to adjust ourselves. I was suddenly intensely grateful for the delay of printing that these photobooths were famous for. Daniel pulled me close and gave me a thorough kiss as his hands twitched the curtains open. After we retrieved the very naughty photos, we went home.
Somewhere in the bottom of one of my drawers, there's a set of risque photos from a photo booth. I keep them as a memory; the feeling of a hot mouth on me as strangers strode by. They still evoke a sense of danger and the edge of desire that we had toppled over that day.
I still have an appetite for for going almost-public. I daresay it's one of those risks that's paid off, again and again.
-N. Baker
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