Arcades are a bit like a spiritual home for us, big kids at heart. It was among the dusty cabinets we had first met, competing for the top spot in Galaga, Donkey Kong and others. In those days I would arrive and find High scores on all my favourite machines:
OCT
OCT
OCT
OCT
and I couldn’t leave until l had conquered her or they closed the doors.
It is back to Galaga we made a beeline, looking slightly ridiculous dressed up as we were, but we didn’t care. She took player 1 as always and fought bravely against both the alien spacecraft and my roaming hands. Nothing too obvious, just tracing the line of her bra then gently brushing a nipple until she elbows me away. I retreat, my hand just resting in the small of her back until it wanders off again, almost on its own, tracing the garter line and missing panties.
After she succumbs to the unrelenting alien ships, it’s my turn. She is still working hard, cupping my arse, dancing slowly to the beat of the music and grinding herself into my back. She then reaches around and slowly unzips my pants and it’s Game Over.
We head down the back and find an F15 fighter simulator with a fully enclosed cockpit. I throw some coins in and hit go as she undoes my pants and pulls them down just enough to get my cock free. As I settle into the seat, she sweeps her skirt up, climbs on to my lap and slides me into her soaking wet pussy. The F15 launches off the aircraft carrier tipping the whole cockpit back and she is slammed gasping against me at several Gs. She giggles a little and kisses me hard. I can just reach the flight controls with one hand keeping us banking, pitching and rolling to the rhythm of our lovemaking. I even pull the trigger every now and again just in case anyone is on the outside watching. The other had is busy alternatively playing with breasts and holding ‘Tavia in place as we are tossed around in the simulated cockpit. It all comes to a screaming end when an enemy MIG gets behind us and shoots us down, sending us crashing into the sea, with both us and the plane shuddering hard as I cum. Game Over
Next, I spy an old shooter in the style of street fairs and carnivals. A long-barrelled rifle lies on an imitation bar and you can shoot the bad guys or the bottles as they pop up. I like it most for the dark recess under the bar, the sort of place you could hide to jump out and scare your friends as they walked past, or in this case, take advantage of Octavia’s pantyless state and ply her wet pussy as she desperately tries to hold her composure and shoot straight. After several minutes of this, and many coins spent, we were startled by another “Excuse me”. The manager has caught on to our little game, he says, and while he appreciates our discretion, there are a few kids about and he doesn’t want a scene. We nod demurely and head for the door. Once we escape the bright lights of the arcade and turn up the road, we laugh uproariously at ourselves and the apologetic look on the manager’s face.
We amble aimlessly down the street until I have another brilliant idea. I grab Octavia’s hand and we swing into an almost deserted shopping centre. Basically, everything is closed other than a Kebab place at the front and a 7-11 in one corner. Along the opposite side, I spot what I am looking for. We slide into the booth and quickly close the curtain as best we can. Octavia sits on the bench and I sit on the floor in front of her, sweeping her skirt up and going down to finish what I had started in the arcade. She mews gently as I lap up and down her exposed pussy, licking deeply from the damp below up to the clit where I focus for several minutes until the mews turn to deeper groans. I trace the edges of her lips with my tongue, slide down and slip it deep inside her before returning to her clit, licking, sucking pausing and going again until she finally succumbs and gives up her orgasm.
I move to my knees, open my pants and pull out my cock. The bench height is a bit awkward but we make it work. We need it to work. We pump and grind into each other with Octavia finally wrapping her legs around my back and sitting herself up to cling to my shoulders as I cum.
“Maybe we should have taken some photos” we laugh and I feed some cash into the machine. The flash goes several times as we kiss, clean up and make ready to face the world again.
‘Tavia collects the photos as we make our way back to the street and I summon an Uber. We sit on a bench, just revelling in each other’s presence as we wait. The car pulls up and I open the door for ‘Tavia and then follow her inside. We buckle in and then slump together, exhausted by our evening. I think the young driver worked out pretty quickly we weren’t looking for conversation. As he drives, we kiss and the odd hand roams across a chest, brushing nipples and I tease her skirt.
I think we might have dozed for a bit, or at least, I did, but woke as we pull into the street. I glance up, for a moment confused as to where we are and then remember the Uber. I look up at the driver but notice the rearview mirror is tilted rather a way down. Maybe he is giving us some privacy. I then mentally follow where it is pointing and realise that as we snoozed, Tavia’s skirt has again ridden up and left her rather exposed. He was carefully collecting an eyeful as he drove, and I couldn’t blame him.
As we pull into the driveway and stop, I lean forward and say “Thanks for the ride, I hope you enjoyed the scenery of your drive to the suburbs.” I wink, hand him a $20 note and ask “Special cash request, wait for 5 minutes. If I make it in the front door, it’s all good.” He nods and relaxes into his seat.
We stop and kiss on the porch, and then we are really kissing as the sleepiness wears off and our bodies kick up a gear. ‘Tavia leans close to my ear and whispers “Do you want to cum in?” I nod as she pulls out her key and unlocks the door. I give the driver a quick wave as we slip inside. “Shh, don’t disturb the kids or the babysitter”. She grabs me by the hand, leads me past the stairs and into the kitchen. “It’s been quite the night, If you have anything left, fuck me on my kitchen bench.” It’s not the sort of thing I need to be asked twice.
There is just enough moonlight coming in through the kitchen window to see by as I reach up, unbutton her blouse and toss it, followed by her bra over the back of a kitchen chair. The moonlight glinting off her curves makes me suck in my breath with the sheer pleasure of looking at her. Round full breasts bounce out to meet me, free at last. She rips off my jacket and shirt, tossing them over the chair as well, but then undoes my pants and boxers and pushes them in a rush to the floor. I step out of them, pick her up and perch her on the edge of the bench, slide the skirt out of the way and slide myself into her.
She lays herself back on the cold white stone and I admire again the strong shoulders framing the vee of her collarbones. Below that hang her generous breasts, split apart by gravity except when I drag them in and hold them together, roughing over her nipples with my flat palms. Her curves slide down into the tangle of her skirt, bunched up as I drive myself into her delicious, neatly trimmed sex. I ram myself in hard, pushing against the grip her back has against the bench, while her smooth long legs cross behind me and hold me tight. Then I switch it down, teasing her with just the tip, playing against her clit or dipping gently inside her only to pull back again, teasing her while I can, then slamming deep again, causing a little moan of pleasure to escape her mouth. We fuck like this for several minutes, probably not being as quiet as we need to, because just as I cum, there is a squeak of floorboards from the hall above and footsteps on the stairs.
I quickly help Octavia up off the bench and into a standing position, grab my jacket from the chair and throw it over her shoulders and hurriedly button the front before stepping behind her and grabbing my pants from the floor.
The kitchen light flickers on and Charlotte the babysitter looks in the door. “I thought I heard something…” Charlotte’s eyes widen.
“Thanks, Charlotte, it’s all good, we’re home now.”
Charlotte disappears back up the stairs to grab her stuff. I look around. A blouse, bra and a shirt hang in a tumble over the back of a chair. Maybe we didn’t hide it so well.
I throw my pants and shirt back on, while Octavia goes out to meet Charlotte in the hall and pay her. As I hear her car pull out of the driveway, I pick up a wad of cash that has clearly fallen as we stripped off. I hand it to Octavia as she walks back into the kitchen.
“That was from my admirer in the plaza”. She stops and counts it out. “$500 for the view and another $500 to keep my panties!”
We are both stunned. “That’s a week’s pay”. I whistle quietly.
“Well aren’t you the little exhibitionist, err, I mean negotiator!”
She smiles at me, unbuttons my jacket she is wearing to let her breasts free again, turns on her heel in such a way as to swing her skirt up and leave nothing to the imagination, and heads out the door and up the stairs.
I follow her up the stairs where we sneak into the kid’s room and kiss them goodnight before heading back to our room to cuddle up in bed. “That was an amazing night. I wonder if Charlotte is free tomorrow night”.
Epilogue: Next morning I go downstairs and out the front door to collect the newspaper. On the doorstep is an A5 manilla envelope. I slip it open. It contains a $20 note, a handwritten scrawl that reads “Honestly, thank you!” and the strips of photos from the photo-booth. Not the sort of photos you frame and put on the mantlepiece for Grandma to see.