Eden's Park Bench - Sex Stories

Eden's Park Bench

This is my nineteenth contribution to:

The 750 Word Project 2024

Eden had been coming to the same park bench every lunchtime for the past two weeks. It was late Spring and the unseasonable warmth meant that she was comfortable in her yellow Summer dress.

Her first year in grad school was nearly over, and Eden felt proud of what she had accomplished. She had impressed her supervisor with her ability and dedication. Things could not have gone better.

Her personal life had also been great. The co-op apartment her Aunt had loaned her was amazing. As, she had found, were many of its residents. Then there was the city itself. NYC in all its splendor, glitz and squalor. It was enough to turn a Pennsylvanian girl's head. And yes, she smiled to herself, there had been lots of head, along with many other experiences.

So why the park bench? It wasn't far from campus, and there was a good deli a block away. The park itself was lovely, taking up a whole block and managing to fit in a tree-lined lake, grass lawns, and a formal flower garden. But it wasn't the park itself that had Eden regularly return. It was him.

She'd seen him the very first day. Her bench was at the narrow end of the lake, where it was at most thirty feet wide. While she sat in full sun, the far bank was shaded by Callery pear trees. Beside, or rather behind, one of these Eden had made out a figure standing. A figure whose eyes were clearly on her.

Even back then, Eden had felt a familiar tingle. ...

... An itch she had learned to embrace scratching at college. But she was cautious. That day, she had done no more than lie back on her bench, slowly cross and uncross her jean-clad legs, and flap the partly open front of her shirt, as if to cool herself. She also smiled at the onlooker, aiming to convey that his gaze was not unwelcome.

Some understanding had obviously been exchanged, as, when Eden returned the next day, the figure was already waiting, still partly obscured by a trunk. Eden wondered idly whether he had even left the park. That second day, Eden had selected the same dress that she wore today. It was low cut, with a front that hugged her breasts and spaghetti shoulder straps. It was long and floaty, allowing her legs to be veiled and then unveiled. Perfect for her intent.

She began modestly, both not wanting to assume to much, and recognizing the type that would likely prefer a drawn-out flirtation. Eden was proud of her long, tanned legs. Why not show them off a little?

And so it had started. Each day, the onlooker was there. Each day, Eden gifted him a little more. Her body thrilling to the slow, sensuous striptease. Her dress had been pulled higher, and then higher. Thighs on display. The hint of butt-cheeks. Then, only recently, her white, cotton panties. Stretched tight against her fleshy vulva, and, as she was both aware and had hoped for, the crotch darkened by her growing excitement. Just yesterday, she had unbuttoned her shirt, allowing him a brief ...