They were usually good natured about it and understood that we had a job to do as well as it wasn't a personal vendetta against them. I only mention this because every day, regardless of shift, I always passed on man in particular that stood out from the rest, no matter the time of year he wore a florescent orange winter hunting coveralls. He seemed unperturbed by the heat in the summer and was never huddled somewhere in the winter. He was friendly with everyone, always talked to you while in the mall or as you escorted him out for the cameras. On this particular morning, I had not been able to acquire my normal energy drinks before shift and had to try to stay up all night on zero caffeine, so I felt and probably looked like a zombie by the time my relief arrived. Stumbling home, I decided to stop in the park and rest on a park bench, just to get the energy to go home and go the bed. I started to doze off on the bench under the morning sunrise when I felt someone sit down next to. I want you inside me. I need you inside me. You have started a fire that cannot be sated by touch alone. Suddenly, your touch is gone, and I whimper, only to gasp and groan as you slide your member into me quickly. You stay still, allowing me to adjust and I am grateful that you love me enough to take everything slower than you want to. You rain little kisses on my back as you slowly pull back until you almost leave me, then quickly you push back in, causing a cry of pleasure to escape my lips. You continue to do this, picking up speed; each thrust causes me to whimper or moan, gaining volume as the speed increases. Soon, your pace levels out and all I can do is moan. You release my wrists and grab my hips, and I bury my face into the bed, trying to keep up with the crashing sensations, but I'm failing miserably. I grip the comforter as if it is the only thing keeping me grounded to earth. I can feel the fire burn and the pressure build. I lift my head and I cry out, “Master… may I.
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