I had gone home with a guy. I don’t remember his name, it’s not worth the trouble. He was cute, he was funny, he was interesting, he pumped three times, pulled out, and dribbled out a weak load before collapsing on the bed and falling asleep. They can’t all be winners.

On my way out, I’d noticed that we were somewhere in the middle of nowhere, woods all around, the kind of place that only just got paved roads. I hadn’t paid much attention on the way from the car to the house. Silly me, I was under the impression that the guy I was with was the only thing I had to worry about for the rest of the night. So, with him soundly snoring, I fumbled around in the dark, looking for my clothes. Unable to find it, and getting increasingly frustrated, I decided to get some air. We were in the middle of nowhere, I couldn’t imagine anyone would know if I took a step outside naked.

I walked barefoot through his small house, quickly finding the sliding glass door out to the backyard, stepping out into the moonlight. It’d been a while since I’d been naked in such a public place. I was frustrated, even angry, that I wasn’t getting my back blown out. I walked back and forth, my head hung low, enjoying the cool feeling of the smooth concrete under my feet and the hard to explain sensation of moonlight on my skin, when I heard a sound. Not like an animal, or wind blowing through the trees. Someone was clearing their throat. Someone close.

I looked up. There was a man, about my age, beer in hand, sitting in a lawnchair on the same slab of concrete that I’d been pacing. My failed hookup was living in a duplex, and I hadn’t noticed. The mystery neighbor wasn’t looking at me, but was doing it in a way that was really obvious that he was trying to be polite. He wasn’t looking at anything, he was intentionally NOT looking at the naked woman that was pacing outside his neighbor’s apartment.

I was conflicted. On the one hand, even though modesty isn’t really high on my list of priorities, I don’t make a habit of just showing the goods off to strangers. Not everyone is as comfortable with my body as I am, after all. On the other hand, I didn’t really want to go back inside and listen to someone who had been much more satisfied with me than I had with him snoring until I could find my phone and clothes to get a ride. So I broke the ice. I softly apologized for surprising him. It didn’t take much volume in the early spring air for him to hear. He told me that I didn’t need to be sorry, he wasn’t doing anything, but he was trying to respect my modesty.

I laughed, louder than I should have. I told him that he could feel free to look all he wanted, that someone might as well enjoy it, since his neighbor certainly wasn’t. He laughed and looked at me, his eyes slowly tracing down my pale skin that looked stark white in the moonlight, from my auburn hair, down over my 36C tits, my slender frame, flat stomach, clean shaved pussy and toned legs. Without skipping a beat, he told me that he regularly saw women going in and out of the apartment, but rarely saw the same woman twice. I laughed and asked if I could sit down, and he gestured to a metal chair not far from his, which was much cooler than I was expecting on my bare skin.

I sat for a long time with my new friend, who introduced himself as Ben, about a surprisingly wide variety of topics. He was surprisingly witty, very sweet, and comforting. He put me so much at ease, the only time I really remembered that I was naked was when he looked at me, and his eyes would roam. After three or four times of that, I told him that he didn’t have to keep looking away. I didn’t mind him looking. I really didn’t. He was sweet, and I wasn’t making any effort to hide. He took a much longer look. I struck a little pose, giving him a profile glimpse, sticking out my ass and tits with a cheeky grin.

He had a hunger in his eyes. Not a threatening one, but he clearly liked what he saw. I started to get the unique feeling, with chills running through my body, hairs standing on my arms, the weird tingle that only comes when I know I’m going to get laid. Things had definitely crossed over from a friendly naked chat to something far more erotic. I could have backstepped it, put the brakes on. I had the perfect opportunity when he nodded towards my chest, looking particularly big in my pose. He softly asked if they were real. I nodded, and leaned forward, wiggling them a bit, giving them that all-natural jiggle. I asked him, in that soft way that we all talk when we’re on the verge of something happening, if he wanted to check them. He nodded and reached out. I stood, taking a few steps toward him and bent at the waist, my ass facing out towards the trees, hands clasped behind my back, my tits hanging and wobbling slightly in the cool air.

He cupped them, one in each hand, and weighed them, squeezed them, admired them. He pinched a nipple, drawing a wince and a small moan from me. He smiled and did it again, getting the same result. Without a word, I slid onto his lap. His hands never left my tits, though they swiveled around to more comfortably grab them from the new angle. I slid closer, my bare ass sliding over the faded blue jeans he was wearing. When I bumped against his already hard cock, he winced and took a long, slow breath. I asked if it had been a while since he’d touched a woman like that, he nodded, and said it had been years. I twisted in his lap, lifting a leg and putting it on his other side, properly straddling him. Gently, I put a hand behind his head and pulled him in. He eagerly began sucking on my nipple and I whimpered softly, grinding my hips against his crotch. Even through the thick material of the crotch of the jeans, the effect was almost immediate. He starting humping back at me, groaning as he licked and sucked my sensitive nipples.

I was surprised at how much control he was able to keep. We built up a rhythm, with me moving my hips forward in a long, slow motion before snapping them sharply back to where they’d been, and him maintaining the same pace with his thrusts. The way the rough denim kept rubbing against my clit had my head spinning. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I whispered to him to take his jeans off, lifting myself up and sliding back to give him access. He wasted no time undoing his pants and roughly pushing them down with his boxer shorts. His prick sprang free, hard and proud in the cool night air. Immediately, he reached out, grabbing my arms and pulling me close again. I didn’t fight him. I reached down, grabbing him in my cool fingers, causing him to take a sharp, hissing breath, and rubbed it over my slit, my eyes fluttering at the multitude of sensations that flooded my brain.

Finally putting him in place, his head dangerously close to being fully inside me, I pulled him in and kissed him. He still tasted like cheap beer, but I didn’t care. He’d already given me more than his neighbor. I lowered myself onto him as the kiss reached its swell, cutting it off abruptly as I yelped out. I took about half of him quickly, smiling drunkenly as I saw him gritting his teeth, trying not to lose control, then I lifted myself slightly, then took the rest, moaning with every fraction of an inch. He wasn’t long, but he was thick, stretching me just enough to cause me to tremble. I breathed out, a long, steady calming blow as I got used to him inside me. He was looking at me like he was only just becoming aware of what was happening. I couldn’t say as I blamed him. He’d just come outside to have a beer in silence while pondering the mysteries of life. Suddenly, a naked woman came out and throwing herself at him. He hadn’t even had to work for it, I’d just gone for it.

I softly asked him if he was okay, and he slowly nodded. I asked him if he wanted me to continue, and he nodded again, more enthusiastically. So I did. He was totally wrapped up in the moment, the sensations, the wonder of it all. He’d forgotten about my tits, still glistening in the moonlight from his spit. He rested his hands on my hips and let me do what I did.

Slowly forward, then snapping back. Slowly forward, then snapping back. Slowly forward, then snapping back.

His neighbor had only lasted three thrusts. Ben was already better than the douchebag next door. I kept going, gauging his response by his breathing, which sped up steadily. It wasn’t anything mindblowing, though every thrust forward drew a purely involuntary moan from me, so it wasn’t a purely selfless act. I sped up, and he kept his hands on my hips the entire time. Minutes stretched on, his hard breathing, my soft moans and the creaking of his chair the only sounds that cut through the night.

When he clenched his eyes shut hard, I knew what was coming. I didn’t want it to be over, but he’d already given me more than I was expecting. I gave a couple more quick thrusts forward, then hopped off of him, his shiny, wet cock springing free with such force that it sent a glob of my juices of his precum flying. He whimpered wordlessly in objection for a moment as his cock twitched violently in the air, but he quickly caught on as I shimmied down, taking his cock head in my mouth and jerking furiously.

I don’t know when the last time was that he’d masturbated, but as he grunted out, he flooded my mouth with a torrent of cum. I gulped hard, but wasn’t able to swallow it all before he shot another, just as big wad into my mouth, then another. I pulled back, trying to swallow and sputter at the same time. He shot another impressive rope into the air, landing on his shirt. By the time I was getting my breathing under control, wiping his thick cum off my chin with the back of my hand, he was starting to come back down. His breath was returning to normal, and his dick was beginning to go limp.

The world was silent in the wake of what happened. As I cleaned what I could find, he grabbed a napkin and began cleaning his shirt and pulling his pants up. He thanked me profusely, and I assured him that I had enjoyed myself more than he was giving himself credit for. I asked if he had a flashlight that I could use, and he was happy to provide. I went back into the false-starter’s apartment and was able to find my things quickly, roughly stuffing my panties into my bag as I put my dress back on. I walked back out, returning the flashlight and asking Ben to zip my dress, which he did slowly, almost like he was trying to memorize every inch of me before it disappeared. When he was done, I turned around and gave him a peck. He offered to drive me back into town, and I was happy to accept.

On the way home, it took a few moments, but we settled back into a comfortable conversation, just like we had before. Pulling up in front of my house, he thanked me profusely. I told him that it didn’t mean anything, heading off any sort of delusions of a relationship, but he was surprisingly on the same page. Neither of us wanted any more than one night, and that’s what we got. I kissed him softly on the lips before climbing out, and he waved, a warm, friendly gesture, not a sad sign of parting, and Ben drove off into the fog.