Moaningful Confessions | Yanking My Christmas Cracker

Moaningful Confessions | Yanking My Christmas Cracker

It's December, 2020, and I'm finally back home for Christmas break. With everyone stuck in one small house again (parents, siblings, pets, neighbours coming round), it gets pretty suffocating and sexually frustrating pretty quick. Lucky for me, I have a lad on call with a car.

So, Christmas Eve, he picks me up, and following afternoon tea at a nondescript fast food place, and a drive around my old hometown for the nostalgia of it, we realize we're all dressed up with nowhere to blow. His parents are home all day, as are mine. 

We cruise around for at least an hour until he gets a brainwave, turns around and finds one of those rest stops by the local river. Trees, open grass, stony muddy riverbank, and in full view of any cars driving along the highway who happen to glance down the hill to the rest stop (and this is about 3 in the afternoon, so we're not exactly hidden from view).

The park is empty, and while we initially consider the cover of the trees by the riverbank, the mud is too muddy, the stones too sharp. Open grass on the field it is.
He's very much a dom, lying me down in the grass, unzipping my shorts and running gentle fingertips across my scrotum while licking at my cockhead, pausing only to ask "How does that feel, good slut?" My Gods, that voice...

Having worked me until I'm standing taller than the Eiffel Tower (and giving me a moment to slide on a condom — wrap your willies, lads) he straddles me, lowering himself onto my dick until I bottom out inside his tight wet cunt. I'm thrusting away, my heels digging into the dirt, his hands trailing from my cheek to tight around my throat to toying with my nipples, all while the afternoon sun bares down on us and every 30 seconds or so, another car zooms past at 100kph on the highway to our left. 

We roll over, he lies on his back, orders me in that lovely commanding voice to "come over and fuck me." Yes sir, absolutely sir. We continue like that, his hands gripping my asscheeks, my thumb teasing his clit, baking under that hot sun, knowing some poor family looking to have a nice Christmas Eve lunch in the park could pull in any moment...

We pause for water, then keep going. On the picnic table, against the mighty big tree in the middle, even fogging up the windows of his car while he jerks me to a final completion, choking me with his other hand just the way I like it.

An hour later as we're driving back, it starts utterly pissing down, almost a storm. What great timing.

This article first appeared in Issue 8, 2021.
Posted 9:58pm Monday 26th April 2021 by Critic.