Exposed

Adam walked in the door, and after we shared a quick hug I noticed something was off. He was nervous. 

“So what’s the plan?” he asked, his voice a bit tense. I was surprised. He was never like this. Plus, he’d done it so many times—I was the rookie in this equation.

"Well," I started, a bit thrown. "We're just going to take the subway uptown a couple stops and we'll be there. Easy. Then we'll come back here and chill out." He exhaled and relaxed a little. 

Okay, I thought. Let’s do this. I took a deep breath. For once, I was leading us. 

We left the apartment and set out along Central Park West to the C train, bound for 103rd Street, passing elegant doorman buildings along the way. We were heading to a relatively quiet part of the park – a spot I’d discovered the summer before, lush with weeping willows, a waterfall and pond, fewer tourists than other places. It felt like it belonged to New Yorkers.

It was well after 8 pm, safely dark. And somehow we'd gotten a gift: an August night that wasn't 100 degrees with 98 percent humidity. Shockingly comfortable. But I was nervous too, truthfully. I was about to take a fantasy and make it real. Could I actually go through with this?

I had been relying on Adam to be my guide. Maybe even my security blanket. If something went wrong, he’d know what to do (right?).

I was wearing a strappy black sundress that fell a few inches below my ass, no underwear. No bra. Going outside the apartment that way at all—let alone anticipating a man shoving my dress up and plunging his hard dick inside me out there—felt like a huge victory. I’m usually uncomfortable wearing dresses and exposing both my legs and shoulders, so this was rather bold.

The darkness helped so much. 

I felt cloaked in it. It gave me a break from my persistent fears of being judged—for my looks, lack of sexual experience (which I was sure people could tell just by looking at me). For anything and everything. That fear had come to feel like a prison and I really, finally, needed out.

I'd long fantasized about having sex in Central Park, where during the day thousands of people strolled, picknicked, jogged, lollygagged. A place where I acted like a regular person on weekends, getting my steps in, lounging on the grass. 

I liked the idea of having a whole different perspective on the place. To do something here that only I and one other person knew about—an open-air secret. In Adam I’d finally found someone I was comfortable to propose my park adventure to. He was a risk taker and I wasn’t, and I needed a little push. And I knew once I’d brought it up, he’d be game and wouldn’t let me talk my way out of it.

The pathways were virtually empty, as I’d figured they would be at this hour. Walking downhill and to a lightly wooded area just off the main walkway, we slipped into the brush and started making out, his tongue gently pushing my mouth open. His hand slowly raised the hem of my dress, his fingertips lightly skimming my thigh. It was like he pressed the pussy button.

"Ahhh ahhh uhhh, fuck that feels good," I heard myself saying a few moments later, trying to keep my voice down. I was on all fours, in the dirt, twigs and dead leaves scratching my shins. 

He was on his knees behind me, thrusting fast and really hard, just the way I loved it. "Fuuuuck, you’re so wet," he kept whispering. This never failed to turn me on. He could say it all day and all night and it would only get me wetter. 

I was making little moans, moans that were impossible to contain – whenever he was inside me anyplace else, in my bathroom, his bed, I couldn't help but wail. He was loud too; the fear of getting caught intensified.

We were pretty well camouflaged by bushes, but we were perilously close to a well-traveled pathway. Not exactly deep in the thicker woods of The Ramble, where for years people have been hooking up and discarding used condoms in a place where tourists would peer at birds just hours later. 

He spread my cheeks wider and pinched my ass—a quieter substitute for the noisy spanking that I loved and squealed over. I wanted to get off the ground, so I scrambled up and dragged him to a nearby tree, pulling my dress up and bending over so he'd know I wanted his cock back in me. He pushed me against the tree with all his strength, the bark roughing up my cheek and hands. Ughhh yesss.

After we had fucked against the ground and against the tree, its bark grinding my skin so deliciously (did I have two lovers right now? Adam and this maple?) we took a break. 

We brushed ourselves off and adjusted our clothes, walking out onto the path again. We found a bench and sat down. Looking around, making sure no one was approaching, I spread my legs just enough so Adam could slide his fingers right up inside me. We'd done P-in-V under cover of bush (no pun intended) and now we were getting it on right out in the open –  directly under a glowing lamp, a picture-postcard scene at any time of the day or night. 

I could smell my own wetness; I wanted so badly to throw my head back and scream. But I held back, because I didn’t want to get caught and have to stop our fun. It wasn't all that late, and should we really be scaring people innocently walking their dogs at 9:30 pm? I laughed thinking about it.

"Hey," I said, feeling more confident. "Let's stand up. Fuck me against the bench." I wasn't usually this commanding. 

Adam jumped right up and we took a few steps. My hands gripping the backrest, he stood behind and pushed me over slowly, pulling my dress up and his own cock out of his shorts at the same time. Oh my god. We could be seen — multiple pathways converged at this point, intersecting right where we stood at this bench, which bore a little metal commemorative tag reading, "Bob and Julie Sheinbaum loved this park like they loved each other. Happy 65th." It was safe to say I was loving it differently now.

We looked left, right, over our shoulders and off in the distance, peering into the shadows to see if those were people coming closer. But no. The area was totally empty. I could feel my juiciness trickling down my inner thigh. "Ready?" he asked.

Fuck. Fuck fuck. Adam's hardness slid right in, not making a sound or hitting any of my curves, till he was deep inside. He grabbed my hips and then put one hand on my shoulder, pounding me. His dick felt swollen, bigger than it ever had, and it was all I could do not to yell. I arched my back and spread my legs a little more to help him out. Fuck fuck fuck. Was this really happening?

Everything became less than real, dreamlike. The lamplight seemed softer. My tits started peeking out from inside my dress, spilling over the not-very-tight bodice. We were so exposed, and I loved it. I wished someone could see us. My skin tingled, the air gliding over it differently. (See? I do have sex. With hot guys. Right in front of the whole world.) 

He kept going, fingering my clit, reaching around from behind. I realized my mouth was wide open, but I was speechless, soundless. I didn’t think I could fully release and orgasm out there, but I was happy for him to. I encouraged him.

“Do it,” I said. “Don’t hold back.” 

"Fuck, you're so tight," Adam muttered, breathing faster with each thrust. I squeezed his dick as hard as I possibly could. As he exploded, I could feel his cum pulsing in me. Somehow he kept his normal shout to a low, sexy growl. He wrapped one arm around my waist and the other my chest. Damn. We were breathing so hard. 

~~~

Fortunately there were seats on the next downtown train. We fell right into them and I crossed my ankles. Oh jeez. There was something on my dress. The harsh light inside the subway car allowed everything on me to be seen — dirt, a small leaf. Something else not immediately identifiable.

"Wow. Wow," I said to Adam quietly. "Thank you. I can't believe it." His goofball grin popped up.

Suddenly I became aware of the other passengers and clasped my knees. Did we LOOK like we'd just had sex? Probably. Actually, I hoped so.