Into a back alley

He leads you off the sidewalk, down a narrow side alley between two shops, and around the back. It’s quiet here, but not menacing. It’s a bright, clear day, and in your little suburban town, even the alleys are clean.

“What do you think?” he says. “Is this private enough for your birthday present?”

You look around. A four-poster bed would be closer to what you had in mind. But he’s here, and you’re here, and you have to admit that the idea is a little exciting. “What if someone comes back here?”

“He’ll have to wait his turn.”

At his direction, you put your back to a brick wall, kick off your shoes and shimmy out of your jeans.

He kneels before you, tentatively reaches down to your bare ankles, and runs his hands up the back of your calves, then your thighs. His touch sends electricity through your body, and you sigh with pleasure.

Then he leans forward, and you feel his lips at the fuzz between your thighs. He nuzzles you, teasing, letting you feel the warmth of his breath. He’s making you dizzy, and there’s nothing on the wall behind you to hold onto, so you run your fingers through his hair, using his presence to steady yourself.

When he brings his fingers to your pussy to hold you open, you hold your breath in anticipation. And then, when you feel the first touch of his tongue, the jolt of sensation makes you shiver and cry out. You clamp your mouth shut, remembering that having a full-throated orgasm out here is likely to bring an audience.

As he explores you with his tongue, you manage to keep your appreciation down to long, shuddering breaths, and the occasional whisper of encouragement. He’s either had practice or he’s a quick study, because he knows how to excite you, how to give you a quick surge of passion or a slow burn of arousal.

At first you aren’t sure that he can actually get you off like this, standing up against a wall, out in a public alley. Not that it’s not amazing--his soft lips on your pussy, his hands on your bare hips, and his dark hair between your fingers. His tongue visits your cunt, your clit, transforming you into a quivering stack of gasps and whispered moans. You’d be happy to let him do this for an hour or two, even if he couldn’t tip you over the edge.

But then something inside you catches fire. Your toes curl, and your breath grows short. “Oh god,” you whisper, “I’m going to come…”

Taking his cue, Diego stays right where he is, giving your eager clit a soft, gentle massage, coaxing you along, feeding the flames, holding you tightly as your body starts to shiver. You clutch at his hair, rise up on your toes, thrust your hips at him.

“OH!”

You explode, every iota of anticipation rushing loose all at once in a devastating shockwave. You buck against him, clinging to him for support, while he holds your hips and sets you off again and again with every motion of his tongue. You want to scream, but you manage to limit yourself to a series of long, shuddering, **** gaps. You hug his head to you, needing nothing more right now than his face deep between your thighs and his tongue touching you in all the right places.

The waves of your orgasm crash over you again and again, and then, eventually, start to recede, leaving you gasping on shore. You blink your eyes open, perplexed to find that the **** of your climax hasn’t destroyed all of the buildings around you.

When you’ve caught your breath and you’re able to stand on your own, Diego gets off his knees, and stands with a smile. He wipes a little of you off his lips, then gives you a quick, chaste little kiss. “Happy birthday,” he says.

You laugh. “Thank you very much. Now help me find my pants.”