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It was a hot summer night, the sort of night where the air was thick and heavy with humidity, and the only relief came from a gentle breeze that occasionally brushed against bare skin. In the deserted parking lot, the only sounds were the soft hum of crickets and the occasional creaking groan of worn-out metal.

As I wandered through the empty rows, my eyes adjusting to the darkness, I felt a thrill of excitement. It was a forbidden thrill, but one that I couldn’t withstand. There was something exhilarating about being here, alone, in the middle of the night. It was like a secret world, one that only I knew about.

But then I saw him. He was leaning against a car, his eyes on me. I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. I knew I should turn and run, but something made me stay.

He was older than me, maybe ten years or so, but he was undeniably attractive. His hair was dark and tousled, his eyes bright and alert. There was a look in his eye that made my insides tremble, a hunger that matched my own.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and husky. “What are you doing out here all alone?”

I didn’t know what to say. I was nervous and excited, my body buzzing with anticipation. All I could do was stare at him, hoping he would make the first move.

He stepped forward, and suddenly we were inches aside. His hand was on my waist, pulling me close, and his lips were on mine. It was a rough, urgent kiss, full of need and desire. I responded eagerly, my tongue darting into his mouth, my hands clutching at his shirt.

We broke aside, panting and gasping for air, our eyes locked in a feverish gaze. He pushed me back against the car, his hands on my hips, and kissed me again. This time it was slower, more sensual, as though he was savoring every moment.

I could feel the hard length of his cock pressed against me, and I moaned softly, my body quivering with need. He slipped a hand beneath my skirt, his fingers teasing the edge of my panties, and I cried out, my hips grinding against him.

He pulled back, a wicked smile on his lips. “Someone’s eager,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

I blushed, embarrassed at my own desperation, but he only chuckled and kissed me again. This time when his hand moved between my legs, there was no hesitation. He slipped a finger inside me, and I whimpered with pleasure.

I was wet and swollen, my body aching for release, and he knew it. He pushed me back against the car, his lips on my neck, and started to move his fingers inside me. He was skilled, his touch sure and confident, and I moaned louder, my back arching as I tried to get closer to him.

Suddenly, he pulled his hand away, leaving me hanging, desperate and aching. I looked up at him, confused and needy.

“Your turn,” he said, a grin on his lips.

He knelt down in front of me, his hands on my thighs, and pulled my panties down. His breath was hot against my skin, and I felt a shiver of excitement run through me. He kissed my inner thighs, then moved up to my clit, circling it with his tongue.

I gasped, my hands clutching at his hair, as he licked and sucked me, his fingers moving inside me. The pleasure was intense, overwhelming, and I felt myself getting closer and closer to the edge.

When I finally came, it was with a cry that echoed through the deserted lot. The release was so intense that I wondered I might collapse, but he caught me, holding me close, until my breathing slowed and my body stopped shaking.

We stood there for a moment, catching our breath, until he leaned in and kissed me again. This time it was soft and tender, and I felt something stir inside me.

We broke aside, and he smiled at me, his eyes bright.

“Same time tomorrow?” he asked.

I nodded, my heart racing with excitement.

It was a forbidden encounter, and I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t help myself. There was something about him that drew me in, something that made me feel alive and free.

As I walked away, my body still humming with pleasure, I knew that I had found something special. Something that I would keep coming back to, no matter how dangerous it might be.
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