We’ve been bumming around all day and decide that we want to head over to the neighborhood that does all of that holiday season lighting – it’s a local tradition, the majority of the houses decorate in some way. There are some that are extravagant beyond belief and others that are much more basic, but it all comes together in a great show of lights.
There are also about 1.2 million people here to see the lights. Some walking, some on horse-drawn carriages, some in small groups, large groups… the works. It’s a community gathering that lasts for weeks. But of course, here we are, trying to pull off a tryst in the middle of it all without scarring children or causing an uproar outside of the two of us anyway…
We wander with and without crowds, looking for an opportunity to sneak away. We start to see a trend with vehicles; they have lots of lights on them, making it impossible to see inside. I start to get the idea to nonchalantly sneak you off to one of those for a quickie and mention it. You get this grin on your face… but you immediately lay down one rule. “NO opening doors.”
WHAT!?? My whole point and idea was the hide-out inside and, well, yeah. But you just tossed the whole thing. Now I’m trying to figure out what to do. And I spot it. The pick-up truck decorated like a reindeer with lights, nice little antlers on the front – LOTS of lights. So it should be fairly blinding to outsiders. We wait for a break in the crowd and just casually walk up and inspect the truck lights, making comments about how cool it is – testing for animals. No dogs, no people yelling… We slip over the edge, into the bed of the truck.
You’d think this would be an incredibly sly move. One quick swish and in. Piece of cake. But the lights span some of the back and once we’ve cleared that, as soon as our bodies come down in the bed of the ancient Chevy truck, all we hear is this incredibly loud CREAK CREAK CREAK …. CREAK.
I freeze as do you. Then we burst out giggling a bit that we made it in. We carefully look over the edge to see if we’ve been made. Not a soul appears to have seen or heard us.
You reach over and grab me by the crotch to make your intentions known – and you grin. “Good, I see the cage is still on.” You pull out the key from around your neck and grin at me. You fake handing it to me and “accidentally” drop it over the side of the truck.
“We don’t need that. Lay down.”
As soon as I do, you lean in bite down hard on my lip, testing my ability, I suspect, to be quiet. With every movement, we hear at the very least a subtle “CREAK” and at other times, the entire truck seems to slosh a bit to the side. It feels precarious.
My adrenaline is through the roof, as I suspect yours is.
You pull open my shirt a bit and add a few new bite marks to my collarbone, to my chest. I’m continually telling myself to shut the fuck up and don’t move.
We can hear people coming by, talking about how cool the vehicles are. How cool THE TRUCK is, specifically. Carollers, horses, the works. We’ve picked quite the busy place to, well, get busy…
I can feel every inch of the cold air on me, and your hand on me, and my cage holding me, and your bites, and … yeah. You’re basically devouring me. I’m whimpering and making all sorts of lewd noises to your continuing “shush” noises and laughs. Then you sit back and pull off your panties from under your skirt. I’d wondered why you chose to wear that, but now it’s obvious. It flashes through my head that I can be a bit slow at times.
You take your panties in one hand, look me dead in the eyes, and just say “I’ve told you to be quiet… NOW.” And shove them in my mouth gagging me, but also sharing your scent at the same time. It’s wild and the rest of the world fades to black, which can be quite dangerous of course…
Then you slowly get up and straddle me, pulling yourself up a bit, but not quite clearing the side of the truck. You whisper to me to scoot down and get busy – I see you putting your head back as I lick at you from inside your skirt, in the back of the truck, pretty much in the midst of the biggest party in town.
You’re increasingly lost in the feelings – I am lost too, but in a frenzy of licking, sucking, fucking you with my tongue. I try to bring my hands up, but you have them pinned to my side. You must feel me trying to move because you just hold me in place tighter. “Tongue only…” is all you say.
I start to feel you shudder and you clamp down harder on me, as your orgasm crashes down on your body. I know I’m hearing more than occasional creaks, I only hope that people write it off to footsteps or to animals… or something.
After you start to come down, you crawl off me slowly, awkwardly. You look me in the eye and tell me it’s time to button up and we have to get out of here somehow… We carefully reverse the process, up and over the edge. I look back at the bed of the truck and can clearly see the dirt has been… disturbed in the shape of my body, completely with knee marks on the sides of where I’d been. We both break out laughing when we see it. They’ll have interesting stories to tell when that’s discovered.
I grab the key off the ground and, as we wander out to the curb, we make our way to a hot chocolate stand and grab a drink. Turns out the taste of you is the perfect compliment to the hot chocolate… We can’t seem to stop stealing glances at each other and breaking out laughing for the rest of the evening…