Dating During Lockdown - Love Under Lockdown

Just the thought of it made me pretty hot. I wasn’t really the type to spend time worrying about the end of the world, but if things really did go south and society crumbled, I would want someone like Leif by my side.

“Sounds like fun.”

“Oh, it is, particularly when it is going well. I crafted my bow and arrows myself. Had to buy the quiver, though; the right kind of leather is just too hard to come by around here. Had it imported from England.”

My hand slipped down to my aching pussy. I knew I shouldn’t. Not when he could see me. But I was just so horny I had to find release, or I might explode.

“Sounds expensive,” I said, trying to keep up the conversation, gently stroking the outside of my pussy.

“Not really. I have my ways. Is your hand where I think it is?”

“What?” I asked, pulling my hand away quickly.

“Your hand.”

“I, um, where do you think it was?”

“Between your legs,” he whispered in a way that made me melt like ice cream in August.

“It was,” I confessed, blushing furiously.

“Take off your robe,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir,” I whispered, without a moment’s hesitation.

I wanted him to see me. Even if he couldn’t touch me.

“Good girl,” he said, making me bite my lower lip. “Now open your legs.”

I obeyed him, spreading my legs wide, the cool air brushing onto my pussy making me tingle.

“Where would you want me to touch you?”

“Here,” I begged, indicating my soaking, tender, open slit.

“With my fingers or my tongue?”

“Fingers first,” I said, shuddering with anticipation at the very idea.

“Wet yours.”

I plunged my fingers into my mouth and sucked them like I had just burned them, getting them nice and slick like Leif had ordered.

“Now touch that pussy of yours that is dripping wet for me,” he directed.

Lightly, I moved my well-wetted fingertips to my outer lips, moaning loud with sweet relief as much as tender pleasure.

“Feel me stroke you,” he said calmly.

I closed my eyes and tried to imagine it. His fingers caressing my delicate pink folds, flooding me with pleasure.

“Now pretend I’m fingering you.”

With his permission, I put two fingers inside me, still pretending that they were his, filling me up, giving me such joy. I really could have cried.

“Angle your fingers up slightly.”

I did, nearly yelping with sudden pleasure. I knew instinctively I had hit my g-spot. Something I had never managed before.

“Feel that?” he inquired.

“Oh, fuck yes,” I moaned with every fiber of my being.

I wasn’t sure if he was going to say more but I came before he could, bucking and moaning, biting my own fist to keep from screaming and waking Polly.

“Get on your knees,” he ordered, when I had recovered.

“I don’t— oh, okay, I’m on my knees. Right in front of you. I’m completely naked. My pussy is wet for you.”

I couldn’t stop the words from flowing.

Putting his head back, Leif closed his eyes and unzipped his suit pants. I nearly fainted when I saw his cock. It looked like the thickness of a fucking tree trunk but smooth and porcelain-white with a bright pink head, throbbing in the air.

All eight inches were hard as hell. I wanted him to pound it into me so much I could taste it. Literally and figuratively.

“I’m licking your balls. Sucking them one by one,” I said, imagining it as I watched him stroke.

“Good.”

“Now, I’m licking after your shaft, from bottom to top, swilling my tongue round your head in figure eights.”

“Feels good, honey,” he said, stroking even faster.

“Now I’m sucking the head, lightly, taking it all the way into my hot little mouth,” I said, really getting into it.

“Good,” he groaned, continuing to stroke.

“Now I’m sucking more, moving my mouth down little by little.”

“Harder,” he implored.

“I’m sucking harder. As hard as I can, I’m almost all the way down your gorgeous cock. Gagging on it as I suck. Tears in my eyes as I look at you, wanting you to fill me up with your hot cum.”

I gasped when it happened. A bunch of thick white cum blasted out of his cock onto the floor. It was beautiful, but seemed like such a waste. I wanted to actually be able to swallow it as it came out of him. Fresh from the source.

“I’m kissing you gently,” he said, tucking away his still-hard cock and zipping up his spotless suit pants.

“I can feel it.”

I could, too.

“I’m stroking your pussy gently.”

“Feels really nice.”

“I am asking you out for a picnic tomorrow.”

“How would that work?” I asked, breaking character.

“Leave that to me, my pet.”

“Yes, sir.”

Chapter Four

Leif

It took some doing, but I had said I could and indeed I did. I had some help from a tape measure, using it to mark the distance we’d need between us. Twice.

The most difficult part of the whole setup was finding the picnic baskets. Double-lidded wicker with big, arching handles. Like something out of Yogi Bear.