Cogiendo En El Parque With Georgie Lyall, Antonio Black – Brazzers
Title: “Parential Controls Needed: A Cautionary Tale of Tawdry Park Phạm”
In the not-so-green-grass-and-daffodils of suburban Britain, a racy rendezvous was about to unfold – one that would make the stiff upper lip of the royal family quiver. Georgie Lyall, a naughty minx in a librarian’s disguise, was about to conduct a book club meeting like no other. Her unsuspecting patron was none other than Antonio Black, a strapping lad with a heart of…well, you get the idea.
Georgie’s “_reader_,” if you will, was a rugged, tattooed gent with a penchant for piercing and an even greater penchant for plunging into pulpy prose. She wore a prim straw hat and sensible pumps to blend in with the flora and fauna of the park, but beneath her cardigan, a lithe and lithe-ous body was clad only in a pair of sheer stockings and a coy but insistent smile.
As Antonio ambled by, lost in a tome of his own, Georgie caught his eye with a coy batting of her lashes. “Pssst,” she trilled, “fancy a spot of drawer cleaning, my dear? I’ve got the latest bodice ripper ready for your perusal.”
Antonio, ever the gentleman scholar, goggled at the proposition. But in a trice, he found himself following the swaying, stockinged seat of the saucy scholar to a secluded bench, hidden behind a strategically placed statue of Queen Elizabeth I. (One wonders if Her Majesty would approve of Georgie’s spin on the English rose.)
With a deft hand, he helped her settle onto the bench, his fingers dancing along her fishneted thighs. Georgie sighed and leaned back, offering him a better view of her opulent décolletage. “Care to sign my copy, Antonio?” she purred, handing him the book.
Caught between propriety and the promise of swelling prose, Antonio’s hand hovered hesitantly. But Georgie’s smile turned coy, and she transferred the book to her lap…if you catch our drift. “There’s a passage in Chapter 3 you simply must inscribe,” she murmured.
Game for anything, Antonio set the novel aside and knelt before Georgie, who parted her thighs with a flourish and a whimper. The arrival of Antonio’s mouth against her flushed flesh resulted in a gasp so obscenely guttural, the Queen’s swans nearly took flight in terror. Georgie’s head fell back, and she braced herself against the back of the bench, the metal flashing in the sunlight.
Antonio, meanwhile, busied himself with the task at hand, his hands kneading her thighs as he pleasured her with mouth and fingers. Georgie writhed under his ministrations, her voice rising from a sultry coo to a scandalous crescendo. The birds took flight, and the Queen gave a knowing nod.
Just as Georgie was on the brink of completion, she spied an elderly couple approaching on the path. With a fiendish grin, she reached down and gathered Antonio’s hair in her fist. “Finish me off, you devilishly handsome man,” she hissed. “And don’t dare stop!”
Thrilling to the danger, Antonio obliged with renewed fervor. Georgie’s second audience was treated to the sight of her body convulsing in a shameless dance of pleasure, her moans issuing from a throat caught in the throes of serial ecstasy.
Antonio took his leave as the couple hastily diverted course, and Georgie was left to fan the heat from her cheeks. As she composed herself, she spied the couple’s horrified expressions and nearly choked on the last vestiges of her pleasure. Naughty naughty, she giggled inwardly.
And so ends our cautionary tale. One simply cannot be too careful about public decency, not with naughty minxes like Georgie and Antonio on the prowl. One must remember, Quentin, sometimes the best stories are the ones we didn’t sign out at the library. Just a word to the wise.
