Kilometer Bridge

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Arched Back

It was a fucked up bridge made of ropes and Lisa doesn’t know what got into them to cross it in the first place.

Dawson was back in town and just last week, he asked her out. He knew she’d say yes just as he knew she had fallen in love with him six years ago when he took her to prom. He liked her but she didn’t know that. What she only knew was he was the asshole who she had only known three days prior to the high school party, the same asshole who left the country three days after without telling her anything.

But she forgave him the moment she heard his voice over the phone last week. Just like that. Because what was important was, he remembered her. And she was the one he called as soon as he got back.

And now there they were. Hiking in nowhere land. All that time his hands were quite behaved, sometimes on her waist or back and sometimes holding her hand. The farthest it went was when he had to push her booty when he boosted her up to grab a rock for support. They had walked for two and a half hours until they stood before a kilometer long bridge. It looked old, unsafe and ill-maintained.

He led her to the foot of the bridge-being the daredevil he was, like he was on that night when he grabbed her hand and let her feel his hard cock after the prom dance. Even if he had just witnessed his date punch the nose of a classmate who stared at her breasts a little bit too long. Daring and devilish. Lisa smiled at that thought.

“What are you smiling about?” he asked.

She shook her head.

He tilted his head then said, “Alright. Now come on.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea…” she said eyeing the frail looking knots of the bridge.

“It’s going to be fine. Look, I’ll go first.”

He carelessly tossed himself into the bridge, the whole flimsy structure dangerously swinging sideways but he continued to take easy steps. He looked back at her and smiled.

She wore her old purple prom dress. It flowed right above her knees. And when she found herself a yard away from the solid ground, the winds blew her dress. She couldn’t isveçbahis quite cover her underwear. She’d like to but she was scared to let go of the rope hand rail.

Step by step she finally reached him. They were now a fourth of the bridge’s path.

He turned around and leaned on her. His forehead on hers. “See, it’s going to be okay…”

“Just keep going!” she snapped.

He kept on going. Slowly but confidently. Lisa on the other hand shuffled on his direction and hoped it will all be over soon. The worst that could happen was they fall off the river. But there was no guarantee that she won’t hit some rocks. Or she won’t get cramps.

On and on they went. Dawson was always trying to distract her by initiating a conversation but Lisa could not multi-task between crossing while balancing in the bridge and answering his never-have-you-ever questions.

“Have you ever had sex?”


“Have you ever tried bungee jumping?”


“Sky diving?”


“Have you ever ate half-alive, half-fried fish?”


“You know, the head’s still wriggling but the tail is cooked?”

“A what?!”

“You think it tastes right?”

“Ew. No.”

“When I left…were you mad at me?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Will you let me fuck you?”

“I guess.”

He turned around to look at her. “Really?”

Then he stuck his index finger in her dry pussy.

She yelped.

Her sudden jerk made the bridge sway harder. Dawson’s finger was still inside her and as he took a step back, her pussy went forward with him. For five more minutes they went this way: his finger hooked on her pussy and she shuffled forward with him. It took her mind off the worry about falling off the bridge. And that was good. But she had to admit, her pussy was still dry as fuck.

Suddenly the knots on the left side of the bridge just gave out and overturned the whole path. Dawson was clinging to his life with a loose rope on one arm and Lisa sat riding on the stable rope remaining, the cable in between her legs.

Her isveçbahis giriş heart was thumping hard against her breasts and all she could do was attempt to control her breathing.

“You okay?” he called out swinging as his other arm reached for support on the rope. Finally he had two hands grasping on the rope.

“What do we do?”

“We go on.”

“What? Shouldn’t we go back the way we came?”

“We’re more than three quarters away. It’s nearer this way!”

He monkey barred his way while she stayed in her place, the rope’s tension fingering her crotch. She held on tight to the rope and leaned forward spreading her weight and trying to keep her balance.

“Come on!” he called. “You can do it. Little by little.”

She must squirm her way.

She reached out as far as she could and try to pull herself while wriggling herself. Inch by inch, she was already able to travel two feet. Dawson ad already gone much further from her. She continued on.

There was no sound but the echoes of the wind between the two cliffs facing each other, above the quiet river. It seemed noiseless because they were too far away to hear it gurgle as it hit the sharp rocks. It must have already been half an hour later and she made good progress. Around thirty five feet more.

But the friction was rubbing her. Rubbing, rubbing, rubbing…

A pink and black butterfly fluttered about. She almost lost her balance when it almost went straight to her face. She kept moving on, relieved that the sun wouldn’t come out from the clouds soon. The tingling and fire in her crotch intensified.

It wasn’t her clitoris getting more sensitive; it was her panties had gotten thinner and holes started to expose her slit.

She must continue so then she pulled her weight, dragged her clitoris raw on the ropes. And tried to will her clit to stop its sparkled excitement.

When she finally reached the edge, Dawson stared at her ripped panties. Her cheeks blushed and she would have felt the heat if not for the cold breeze entering the caves of her womanhood. isveçbahis yeni giriş Her pussy was beyond moist, the ropes absorbing most of her dripping wetness. But it wasn’t the chill that touched her wet pussy lips that made her shiver.

It was the burning, oh yes burning in her pussy. The throbbing raw pussy that suffered from abundant friction.

Dawson carried her through her armpits and when she laid her feet on the ground, he kissed her roughly on her lips.

He pushed her on a smooth rock and snatched her panties away in one motion. He threw it in the river without second thoughts.

Lisa was breathing heavily. He pushed a finger again in her pussy.

Then he dove in between her legs. He licked the oasis like a cat thirstily licks a bowl of milk. Subtle, but swift stokes. It tickled her. It set the bomb to tick.

She moaned.

She laid her arms above her head.


“Ahhhh…awww…ahhh… ah!”


She whimpered.

He took his pants off, opened her legs wider and pushed his seven inched dick into her hole.

She cried in agony.

He pumped so fast and so hard that her neck was already beyond the edge of the rock. Her fingers clawed onto his arms. He adjusted her closer and held one of her legs up. More thrusts. Lisa’s cum was already flowing. He collected some of it with his palm and then he smudged it upon her neck.

He rubbed her clit roughly in torture to keep her juices flowing. He shifted so that his cock could rub her clit with minimal friction.

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Any requests?”

“Slap my clit. Hard. Once.”

He slammed his palm on her pussy. She jerked as if electrocuted. The sudden twitch also electrocuted his cock. He pushed more of himself on her to stop himself from detonating. The sweet subdued ache in his cock was driving him crazy.

“You…like that?” he gasped as he was near climax.

“Ye…Yesss..” she managed to say. He was fucking her too wild for her voice to stable. Her pussy lips embraced his cocked tighter.

He grunted in euphoria.

With one final big hump on her, she screamed. The birds nesting nearest them flew away from the cliff. He pulled away and kiss her again on the cheek. He watered a nearby wild flower with his semen.

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