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Sometimes, a girl wants to have a little fun. Nothing serious. No commitment. Just a chance encounter with a gorgeous guy that turns into an unexpectedly good time. So what if he's some rich playboy, probably way out of my league? Like I'll ever see him again, anyway...
Besides, it was early in the morning. It's not like there was anyone else in the park to see us. Not that we made any effort to keep things discreet...
---
My playboy peered up through his sandy blond locks, looking at me with mingled respect and annoyance. We stood close to each other on the bank sloping down from the street until our breathing had evened out and the burn started to subside.
"Well," he said as he straightened up, eyeing me with a new wariness. "Looks like I owe you dinner. Or a drink. We never quite decided."
He flashed me a bright smile, switching into all charm. My blood was moving fast from the run. I straightened and approached him, all cocksure swagger from my win, keeping my breathing in check as best I could. I wanted to enjoy my victory.
"I don't care about either." His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. I could tell he didn't often strike out with women. But I had something entirely different in mind. I grabbed his hand and pulled him up toward the bathroom building by the lake, the only scant shelter from the street and park. He followed obediently, and when I turned back, I could see his eyes had been trained on my butt the whole time.
I grabbed the front of his slick, stretchy shirt and pulling him into a hot, hungry kiss. I had gone running right after prepping myself for the day, so I was all confidence in the little things like the smell of my hair and breath, knowing that the only taint was the natural sweat I'd worked up from the run. But even that could be exciting, I knew from past experience.
My playboy hesitated only a moment, then wrapped his hands around me and pressed into the kiss.
Besides, it was early in the morning. It's not like there was anyone else in the park to see us. Not that we made any effort to keep things discreet...
---
My playboy peered up through his sandy blond locks, looking at me with mingled respect and annoyance. We stood close to each other on the bank sloping down from the street until our breathing had evened out and the burn started to subside.
"Well," he said as he straightened up, eyeing me with a new wariness. "Looks like I owe you dinner. Or a drink. We never quite decided."
He flashed me a bright smile, switching into all charm. My blood was moving fast from the run. I straightened and approached him, all cocksure swagger from my win, keeping my breathing in check as best I could. I wanted to enjoy my victory.
"I don't care about either." His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. I could tell he didn't often strike out with women. But I had something entirely different in mind. I grabbed his hand and pulled him up toward the bathroom building by the lake, the only scant shelter from the street and park. He followed obediently, and when I turned back, I could see his eyes had been trained on my butt the whole time.
I grabbed the front of his slick, stretchy shirt and pulling him into a hot, hungry kiss. I had gone running right after prepping myself for the day, so I was all confidence in the little things like the smell of my hair and breath, knowing that the only taint was the natural sweat I'd worked up from the run. But even that could be exciting, I knew from past experience.
My playboy hesitated only a moment, then wrapped his hands around me and pressed into the kiss.
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