A Break in the Monotony - Sex Stories

A Break in the Monotony

... body bouncing 2 feet in the air. She'd thrown a white tee shirt, with a deep V-neck, on over her bathing suit top, but even then, I could make out her glorious tits as her body rose up and down. I took the queue and followed suit. It was more fun than it should've been. It was silly, but it was having the intended effect. We were breathlessly laughing and having a blast, falling and struggling back to our feet time and time again when my hand accidentally grazed her chest. It truly was an accident, a result of the uneven hills and my unsteady feet. I instinctively pulled away but before I could return my errant hand to my own personal space, she grabbed it and placed it squarely on her breast. Again, she smiled. Sultry and inviting and in a voice just above a whisper, she said "feel free."

We were only standing inches apart. Her toes resting on mine. Her hip now pressed up against my groin. My hand resting patiently on her breast. I could taste her breath as she exhaled. I could see the smallest beads of perspiration on her upper lip. Other people were in the room, but to us, it was only us. All of the jumping and giggling moved to the background, and I could hear our heart rates begin to beat in sync.

Up until this point, I hadn't felt any overt indication of her interest, but now, I was sure. And if she'd doubted my interest, when I put my free hand on her lower back (low enough to feel the top of her ass with my pinky), pulled her in even closer and embraced her ...

... lips with my own, any lingering doubts were surely laid to rest. Quietly, I asked if she was "ready to get out of here?" and with a barely-perceptible nod of her head we were gone.

I didn't have a plan but getting away from the crowds and out of the museum was the first step. Silent, anticipation filling the space between us, we eagerly careened through the corridors. At every corner, I took an angle that allowed me to put my hands on her. At the first, it was a light hold on her arm. By the second, it was firm pressure under the fold of her breast. In one of the more empty halls, she stopped me and pulled me in for another deep kiss, all the while holding the lump in my pants like she owned it. I reciprocated with a two-handed ass grab that lifted her up to her tippy toes. We could have stayed in that moment forever, but I knew she needed more. I knew

I

needed more. No more stops. No more delays. We practically sprinted through the last exhibit towards the exit sign. For five long minutes from the museum's exit, through the trailhead, nothing was said. But for our outfits, a passerby would have assumed we were training for a competition trail run. As we ascended the trail, we came to a clearing before another rise. I pulled her 20 yards off the trail, rushing, fighting the limbs impeding our path.

In any other scenario, I would have apologized for allowing the limbs to swing back and hit her, but both of us were singularly focused. I kept trying to find flat ground ...