It all started in the cinema...
I started to stroke my boyfriend cock, but we were surrounded by people, so I had to be careful not to make too much noise.
His precum was oozing, and the wet foreskin noises were making me crazy, but I didn't want to stop.
I slowed down and took my time, gliding his skin up over the head, holding it there for a second, then slowly gliding it back down to the ridge of the head, holding it there for another second before repeating the process.
It was like a dance, slow and sensual, and it went on for what felt like hours.
I was lost in the rhythm of it all, moving on autopilot until he whispered that he was close.
That's when reality hit me: where was he going to cum?
I couldn't have him cum in his shorts, over the seat in front of us, or in my mouth, so I had to stop.
I just held his hard, precum-soaked cock in my hand for ten minutes before starting again.
This cycle repeated until the movie ended.
We got to the indoor car park, and it was late, so not too many people were around.
We found a secluded corner, and he wasted no time whipping his cock and balls out over his shorts.
I got him hard again, stroking him quickly.
No need to worry about the wet foreskin noises now.
He tilted his head back and whispered that he was going to cum, and I kept stroking him until he hosed the wall down in front of him.
His cum got on my hand, and I watched in amazement as it covered the wall like someone had thrown a bucket of something over it.
The sound of splatters hitting the wall and ground was like music to my ears.
It was wild, messy, and totally worth it.
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