The Magic of the Southern Night
She seems to be heading home. Drunk and alone… The click of her heels overtakes me half a block ahead. And we haven't met yet.
I usually don't pay attention to late-night revelers. But not this time. Something drew me to her, not her appearance—in the night gloom, I couldn't even see her at first. I quicken my pace. I realize what attracted me was the extraordinary scent of her perfume. Notes of orange and lime, something spicy, incredibly persistent, dizzying, and a faint hint of musk, like a veil. My confident steps almost catch up to her near a huge old plane tree—the pride of all the street's residents. She doesn't hear me yet, her thoughts are wandering somewhere far away.She steps into the dim circle of light from a lantern at the gates of one of the houses, and this allows me to see her. A tall, slender figure in a short, tight-fitting black dress without straps or sleeves, with lace along the hem. Elegant black sandals on high stiletto heels with crisscross laces up to her knees accentuate the slenderness of her legs. Loose, beautifully curling locks of blue-black hair cascade down to the middle of her back. On her sharp, youthful shoulder, a small black clutch bag. The girl is lovely! How old is she? I estimate by sight. Around twenty-something, no rings on her fingers—not married. Although, I check myself, nowadays, the presence or absence of a ring doesn't necessarily mean anything.
I hesitate to get closer, just follow her, about twenty steps behind. She walks without looking back, though she must already sense my presence. I'm not hiding, but she doesn't seem afraid of me. We just walk.
I'm a bit disappointed. Losing hope, I pass by a dark alley. An indistinct shadow detaches from the dark wall of one of the houses. And I know it's her. Now she's behind me. I stop at the beginning of a long, dark alley in the city park. I light a cigarette and stand provocatively, giving her a chance to overtake me again and walk ahead. But no! Out of the corner of my eye, I see she's waiting for me too. I smirk! I'm starting to enjoy this cat-and-mouse game!
I toss the half-smoked cigarette into a trash can and slowly walk into the darkness, forward. She, still silent, follows me. I smirk again. Reaching the middle of the alley, I turn deeper into the park, stop near one of the gazebos; she stops too. How interesting! I sit down on a bench, letting her know I'm here for a while. Will she walk past me? Or will she stay, waiting for my next move?
About five minutes pass. She slowly approaches and sits at the other end of the bench. I feel a certain attraction between us, like magic! We're silent…
— Liza — she whispers after a few minutes and falls silent again.
— A magical night! — I whisper.
My remark gets no reply, but instead, I feel her light hand on my arm.
— Don't break the magic! Let's stay silent! — she whispers fervently.
I feel a wave of her hair on my shoulder. The closeness is intoxicating. Her palm lightly squeezes my fingers.
I turn my head slightly towards her and breathe in her pungent scent with my whole chest. She also turns her head to me. Our lips meet and slip into the abyss of a wet, sensual kiss. Tongues intertwine, her sharp little teeth occasionally lightly nibble my lip. This goes on for quite a while. I hesitantly move to more active actions. With one arm, I embrace her; the palm of the other strokes her small breasts through the bodice of her thin dress. The absence of a bra underneath is immediately apparent from the exciting bumps of her hardened nipples. The kiss grows even hotter; I can feel her desire igniting. She also unzips my fly and begins slowly squeezing my erect cock.
My hand leaves the girl's breast and moves lower, over her stomach, waist, then down her steep thigh, down her leg, to where the lace strip marks the end of her skirt's hem. After a brief hesitation, I slip under the thin fabric, running my palm along the inner surface of her thigh. I lightly touch the thoroughly soaked lace of her panties at the junction of her legs and easily push this barrier aside.
I continue to finger her, and, after a couple of minutes, she lets out a languid moan. Liza comes, then lowers her mouth onto my protruding head. A whirlpool of sensations engulfs me. Her sharp little tongue and lips eagerly caress my head. Liza sucks well. Now her lips tightly embrace the shaft and confidently begin a long, frequent journey up and down it. Incredibly pleasant! With each of her movements, I feel the birth of warmth and a convulsive tightening below my pubis. The contractions come more and more frequently until an intoxicating ecstasy seizes my entire being and spills out through my urethra. My sperm is met by a tender tongue. The girl swallows, then takes a handkerchief from her purse and wipes my cock and her lips. But she doesn't get up yet; she continues persistently caressing me with her mouth, and my manhood hardens again, thanks to her insistence.
In the east, the sky gradually begins to blush. Darkness turns into thick twilight. I can already make out the features of her face up close, the contours of her body.
— Let's hurry! The magic is ending! — she whispers, standing before me. I don't yet understand what she wants to do next, but she decisively rolls the hem of her dress up and pulls down her panties, tossing them onto the bench beside me. Then Liza straddles my lap. My cock slides easily between her legs. She sits down on it to the hilt, reveling in this moment with delight.
— Oh, Misha! — she whispers in my ear in a rapture of feeling, pressing her pubis against mine to the point of sweet pain. A brisk ride begins; she rides my eager stallion. Her vagina tenderly receives my cock. We begin a measured movement, soft thrusts towards each other. I feel how manfully my battering ram takes her gates, how her womb releases moisture and yields under my pressure. After a couple of minutes, we together reach the point of no return and come simultaneously. I flood her vagina from the inside with my juices; she cries out loudly, continuing to forcefully impale her female flesh onto my male one. She explodes… and freezes on top of me!
It's already quite light outside. I can make out the color of her playful eyes—blue. She smiles at me. I'm still inside her, though satisfied and soft now. She strokes my cheek.
— The magic is gone! — she whispers in my ear — Don't walk me! Goodbye!
She kisses me tenderly, with her tongue. Just a couple more moments… she gets up, leaves my lap, and somewhat shyly adjusts her dress.
I stand up too, tuck myself in. She picks up the thin, spiderweb-like lace thong from the bench and stuffs it into my pocket.
— For memory! — she whispers, turns around, and walks slowly down the alley towards the port.
Stunned, I watch her go, realizing the fairy tale is already over…