We’d arranged it days earlier—messages back and forth, boundaries clear, excitement building quietly. She was nervous when we met in the empty park car park, far from the main paths, just dark trees and faint streetlight glow. Her husband drove them there; I arrived separately, sliding into the backseat as planned. Their front seats pulled forwards as far as they would go…

She settled right against him immediately—back to his chest, head resting on his shoulder, his arms around her waist like an anchor. Her breathing was shallow at first, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her skirt, thighs pressed together. He murmured something low in her ear, hand stroking her arm steadily until her shoulders relaxed a fraction. Then Removing her bra, and top. To start with… I just watched, respecting the boundaries set… then… I was asked to begin.

I knelt between her legs on the floorboard. She parted them slowly, still hesitant, but when my hands slid up her thighs she exhaled, nodding once. Her fingers found my hair—tentative at first—then gripped firmer as I leaned in, kissing softly along her inner thigh to ease her in.
She stayed leaning fully into her husband the whole time, body melting back against him as arousal took over. One hand wrapped around his cock early on—already hard—stroking him slowly, steadily, thumb circling the head in lazy rhythm with my tongue on her. Every few moments she’d tighten her grip on my hair, pulling my face deeper when a flick or suck hit just right, her hips lifting slightly off the seat.

I took it deliberate: long, flat licks building to pointed circles on her clit, fingers curling inside to press that spot. Her breaths turned to soft, uneven gasps against his neck; his low groans vibrated through her as she massaged him faster, keeping him slick and throbbing in her palm. The car filled with quiet sounds—her hitched exhales, the wet slide of her hand, my mouth working her steadily.

Her thighs started trembling around my ears. I didn’t let up—tongue relentless, fingers steady—until she broke. A sharp, involuntary cry escaped her, body curling forward as she came hard, pulsing against my mouth, flooding warm and sweet. At the same moment, her hand sped up on him; he tensed, spilling over her fingers with a choked groan, the two of them riding it out together while I held my place, lapping softly through her aftershocks.

When it eased, she let out a breathless laugh, pulling me up for a deep, messy kiss—tasting herself on me—then leaned over to kiss him too. She wiped her hand on a tissue from the glovebox, grinning at me in the dim light.

I enjoyed my night.