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Fencing I'll never look at that fence the same way. And in a playground, no less. I just hope it rains before someone leans against it or tries to climb it. Sticky chain link. Cum, saliva, pussy juice, maybe a little blood. We're driving past a park. Children are on the playground, having their day's last fun before the sun goes down. I see you eyeing the area. You seem to be looking beyond the kids and playground equipment, but what's out there?

I wonder what's going through your mind. You've been really freaky lately, and we've done some incredibly risky stuff. Sexual thrill-seeking. Last week we went into that XXX store by the interstate. You picked out an interesting insertable toy and paid for it.

Then, still in the store, you pulled me over to a spot in front of a security camera, bent me over, pulled up my skirt, shoved the toy in my pussy, and fucked me with it while the shop clerk and several customers watched. Some gathered closer. One guy moved around us, filming it with his cell phone, I imagine getting different angles. I also heard the fake shutter sound from people's cell phone cameras. I thought for sure the clerk would throw us out, but he seemed as pleased with the show as everyone else.

When we were done (meaning when I fell to the ground and finished bucking from the intense orgasm), the filmer guy offered you ten bucks for the toy, which you took.

Then we left the store as if nothing had happened. Tonight, after we pass the park, you suggest we go get some drinks. I know you want my inhibitions turned into exhibitions, and I'm certainly not against the plan. The fucking lately has been incredible, and I'm hoping for more of it tonight.

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I am concerned about that playground, though. We stay at the bar for awhile, drinking shots and watching a couple of lame guys take turns approaching women way out of their league. We both laugh when this one woman has an offended look on her face, as if the guy cut a fart instead of offering to buy her a drink. I notice you're not drinking nearly as much as I am. Several shots into it, I count five shot glasses on the table--and I know I had four of them.

The buzz doesn't hit me till I stand to go to the restroom. I'm not wasted, but I feel really, really good. As I wash up, I decide I'm ready for whatever you throw at me tonight, and I hope you come up with something fucking crazy. I come back to the table and you tug me to signal for us to go.

I leave my inhibitions folded neatly under the cocktail napkin on the table. You drive us back to the park, which is completely empty. I try to ask what you have in mind, but you shush me. Uh oh. I'm in trouble. Big trouble. You're not laughing or even smiling. I know you're horny and looking for a dangerous thrill. Wildness flashes in your eyes.

You reach into your glove box and pull out a thick, metal choke-chain dog collar, drop it over my head, and pull it snug. It's pretty long, like it's for a really large dog.

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You drop the end of the chain into my cleavage. The cold against my hot skin, along with the excitement I'm feeling from your crazed look, makes my nipples hard. They push at the thin fabric of my t-shirt. I never wear a bra when we go out, even when we're with friends. You say you like to know when I'm aroused. What you don't realize is that I'm almost always aroused when we're together, whether my tits show it or not.

Us fucking is always on my mind. Maybe what you really like is for everyone to know when I'm aroused. You certainly have that exhibitionism thing going.

I love it. We silently get out of the car, carefully closing the doors so no one hears us. The chain rattles excitingly between my tits as I follow you over to some bushes at the far side of the playground where it's dark.

It's not very original, the bushes. We've fucked in random bushes many times. But it turns out that's not what you have in mind. There's a chain link fence just behind the bushes, part of which juts into the glare from the security lights of a soccer field beyond.

You walk me into the lighted area, shove me up against the fence, facing it, and make me hook my hands into the metal. Then you climb over the fence and approach me from the other side. You hook your fingers onto mine, pinching the wire slightly into my skin. I moan a little in fear. This is starting to feel a little crazier than I'd hoped for. I think I hear something behind me and I start to turn to see what it is, but you reach through the fence, grab the choke chain, and yank me back around.

You breathe into my face. "Glory hole." Oh my God. I get immediately wet. My juice starts to run down my leg since I'm in a skirt and no panties. "Glory hole," you repeat with a deep growl, staring angrily into my eyes. "Now." I drop to a squatting position, grasping the fence at this lower position. You're still holding the end of the choke chain from above, so my throat is slightly constricted.

You unzip your pants, pull your partially hard cock out and push it through the wide fence links.

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I'm drooling by now. I see a drop of pre-cum on the end and taste it with the tip of my tongue. Your cock jumps a little.

You pull harder on the choke chain. "NOW!" I open my mouth wide and take you in as far as I can with the fence and the bulk of your pants and zipper between us. My face is against the fence. Your cock just reaches the back of my throat. I feel that luscious gush of saliva fill my mouth.

Some women strive to rid themselves of the gag reflex so that they can take a dick in deep without coughing or drooling (or whatever other reason they have).

I don't understand that. I love my gag reflex. I love that my mouth and throat produce that wondrous amount of fluid--so much that it drips down my chin and drenches your pubic hair when you fuck my mouth hard. I love the gagging sound, the wet squelching, even the coughing when you reach that deep point. I don't want to feel like I've gotten used to this by overcoming my gagging. I want it to feel unnatural, wrong, perverse, bad. Wonderful. What I really love about my gag reflex is when you get to that point where you force your cock deeper, past the coughing and even the squelching.

When you push so hard that I can feel your cock go beyond that barrier, past the turn downward, and I can feel it raking up and down my esophagus; the front of my neck bulging as if I have an adam's apple, my air blocked while you use my throat as a fuck hole. I'm not even there. My mouth is just some other place for you to stroke your shaft until you cum. It's so erotic, to be lost like that, to just be a receptacle for your jizz.

In so much of my life I have to be purposeful.

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I have to be respected, taken seriously, seen a certain way. Being able to let that go for a moment--to have someone else control even when I get to breathe--is surprisingly freeing.

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Now you let go of the choke chain, shove your pants all the way down and raise your shirt from over your groin, never removing your cock from my mouth. I hear you breathing hard, almost grunting with each breath.

There's a splat on the ground from my pussy releasing more juice.

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When you thrust your body against the fence and it makes that clash sound, I flinch. With that, you reach through and grab some hair on both sides of my head, yanking my face into the fence. This is so much better than a real glory hole where the guy's dick is just sticking through the wall and it's up to me what to do with it. I don't have nearly the sexual imagination that you do.

You hold my face hard against the cold fence and pound into it. Clash! Clash! Clash! I never thought that sound could be so erotic. The metal is pushing into the skin around my lips, which protects your dick from getting scraped.

My body reflexively starts to pull away from the fence, so you quickly pull the chain through and yank hard, forcing me to stay put while you fuck my face. Clash! Clash! Clash! Now you stop pounding and pull me harder into the fence. It sways toward you and I almost lose my balance. You stab the back of my throat and hold it there for a few seconds then pull out and I cough.

You do that again and again. My mouth is so full of thick saliva that each time your cock rams in, the slick juice is displaced and gushes out, washing down the fence and dripping on the ground.

You're now ready for some real depth. You renew your hold on my hair and the choke chain and give one brutal thrust. I feel and hear a sucking pop in my throat and I know you've gone beyond that point. My neck is distended, the air can't move, I feel lightheaded--not from lack of oxygen, which has only been for a few seconds, but from the rush of having your cock buried so deep in me; from feeling your furry groin ground into my nose and lips; from the nasty thrill of all this happening out in the open where anyone can see us.

I'm dizzy from the absolute freakiness of it. Suddenly you pull out with another pop and let go of my hair. I fall flat on my ass, gasping, completely taken by surprise. You step out of your jeans and kick them to the side."Take that choke chain off and get back over here," you command. I stumble up and loosen and slide the chain over my head and hand it to you through the fence. My neck feels suddenly naked without its heavy collar.

My throat feels empty without the chain's constriction and your cock inside it. The air feels oddly unfamiliar as I begin breathing normally. "Turn around. Raise your skirt and put this around your waist." I hike my skirt up over my ass and take one end of the chain and slip it around my middle, then push it back to your waiting hand. You pull the ends of the chain, forcing me against the fence, whose thin metal is cold and sharp pushing into my ass.

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When I bend forward, the chain falls to the tops of my thighs, and you pull the it tighter, making my swollen pussy lips jutt through the fence in a strategic position.

You squat down a bit and shove your enormous dick head into the tight, fat lips, causing me to gasp. Like my saliva, my pussy juice is displaced by your dick, and it runs out and down the fence, dripping on the now puddled ground. You pull your head out and I feel some relief, but then you shove it in again, this time deeper.

A whole new gush of fluid is released and splashes back onto you and you grunt, pleased. My initial discomfort is replaced with amazing fuck pleasure. I link my fingers into the fence and prepare for some pounding, which you quickly supply. You're pulling me so hard against the fence and slamming into me so hard, I feel my skin rubbing raw on the metal.

The thought of when I last had a tetanus shot glimmers in my mind for a second, but the pleasure-pain quickly takes its place. Your cock is so thick and my pussy lips so swollen poking through that fence, there's barely room for both, which makes it an incredibly tight and pleasurable squeeze.

I feel my body tensing for an orgasm, so I grasp the fence tighter. My legs draw up uncontrollably and I find myself impaled and dangling from your rod. I ride the fence, which now sways wildly with my feet off the ground and your continued pounding. Your grunts turn to laughs and I start laughing, too, halfway through my orgasm. We must be quite a sight--and sound.

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Clash! Clash! Clash! Hahahahahahaha!!! You grow quiet and stop moving, letting me come back down from cloud O. Once my feet are back on the ground, I hear you, and I know what's coming. You're breathing hard with determination, almost snorting. I imagine an enormous angry bull as you begin ramming me with abandon. The fence clash-clash-clashes in perverse rhythm with our movement.

It seems like you're fucking that fence, fucking me, fucking anyone who might be watching, fucking the night, the air, the world.

Now I feel your rush of searing heat and the stretching of my cunt. You pull that choke chain tight into my thighs and slam into me one final time deep and hard. I feel you release into me. So much cum. So much. Your cock pulses and jerks as it pumps into me.

With all my fuck juices and all your cum, there's just not enough room inside me. A mix of our sex fluids squishes out around your cock and squirts onto both of us and the fence and the ground.

You seem to unload an unusual amount, even for you. Then I think about how women can cry for hours. Where does all that liquid come from?

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Wherever it comes from, I think maybe that's where yours is coming from. Maybe you're doing your sexual version of crying into me, releasing into my willing void. I tear up thinking about it, which is ridiculous since I know this is just an emotional projection.

I don't want you to see my teary eyes. You might think it's because all that fencing hurt. It didn't hurt so much as it left an impression. The temporary physical marks left on my body by this unimaginably erotic experience, the memory marks imprinted permanently on my mind--instead of reminding me of pain, will remind me of our wild sexual beings participating in the great fuck of life.

Being a part of all the wild and not-so-wild sex going on in the world tonight. We're animals, you and me, when we're together, and we're willing to embrace that and explore it in as many ways as our freaky minds can come up with. I lean against the fence, letting your cum drip from me.

There's just so much. Did you piss in me too? We've talked about that, but I thought you'd say something before you tried it. No, what's dripping out is thick. You amaze me sometimes, and you thrill me always. I hear you pull your pants on. You climb back over the fence and move me aside to see the puddles we made. You must also sense the amount of liquid we both expended. You look at me with a crooked smile. "Come on. Let's go get something to drink." As I move away from the fence, my skirt falls back over my naked and dripping lower half.

You put the choke chain back over my head and lead me playfully to the car. Over by the swings, I see two dogs that are knotted together in their own fuck of life.

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