The park was serene, not a soul in sight, which was just the way Kendra liked it. It was the perfect spot for some secret fun. She tugged Trip through the patchy grass and muddy earth, passing by old swing sets that looked like they hadn't swung in years and trash cans that were more art than anything else. They reached a bench that was crooked and worn, but it was theirs for the moment. It was hidden just enough from the trail that they wouldn't be seen unless someone was looking, and that thrill was exactly what they needed.

With a flop, she sat down and spread her legs wide, her skirt sticking to her thighs from the short walk. "Take a seat," she said, her voice firm, and Trip, like the lovesick goat he was, did as he was told, his earbuds hanging loosely and his goatee twitching from nerves.

"We're gonna get caught," he stuttered, glancing around like he expected the cops to jump out of the bushes any second.

Kendra just smirked. "That's kind of the point, Trip." She slid her hand straight between his legs like it was nothing. "You're already hard just thinking about it, aren't you?"

He tensed up. She had a knack for knowing just what to say to get under his skin. He was already half-hard, and she didn't waste a second pulling his cock out of his jeans and starting to stroke him. At first, it was just enough to get him going, and then she picked up the pace, her grip getting tighter, making his breath catch in his throat.

"You'd probably blow your load if a jogger showed up right now," she whispered, kissing the side of his face. "Wouldn't that be hot?"

Trip groaned, his face turning redder than a stop sign. "Kendra, no-"

But she just kept smiling that sweet, wicked, braced smile. "Don't tell me you want me to stop. You wouldn't dare."

The night was still, only the occasional engine sound echoing from far off. Kendra's hand moved with confidence, her strokes growing faster and more deliberate. Trip's breathing was getting heavier, his hips starting to jerk. She leaned in closer, her mouth at his ear.

"You know what I hope happens?" she said, her voice a sultry whisper. "I hope someone sees us."

Trip's eyes widened. He didn't know if she was serious, but the thought had his heart racing.

"Yeah," she went on, "I want them to watch me get you off, watch me make you spill all over me."

The air was thick with anticipation as her hand flew up and down his shaft, her thumb playing circles on the head of his cock. He was close, so close, and she knew it. She could feel it in the way he was tensing up, the way he kept trying to get his breath under control.

With a gentle bite to his neck, she urged him on. "Give it to me, baby," she murmured. "Let 'em see you come apart."

In that very moment, he completely surrendered to his overwhelming pleasure. His manhood throbbed powerfully, and with a guttural groan, he experienced an intense climax that surged through his body. The forceful eruption of semen shot out from the tip of his penis, painting a warm, sticky pattern across the fabric of his shirt and the firm planes of his abdomen. 
Yet, despite the evident culmination of his passion, Kendra’s hand did not cease its relentless movement, moving at a blur. The rabbit was determined to milk every single drop of his orgasm, her strokes never faltering as she guided him through the peak of his sexual release, ensuring she captured every last bit of his essence.

When he was finally spent, she kissed his forehead and whispered, "Good boy." Her hand was a sticky mess, but she just wiped it off on his thigh like it was nothing.

Trip was panting, his body trembling, but Kendra just sat there, smiling, like she hadn't just gotten him off in the middle of nowhere. She was something else, that girl.

“Good job,” she muttered, brushing sweat off his forehead. “Didn’t scream once.”

“I almost cried,” he whispered back.

She kissed his cheek. “Hot.”

They sat in silence. A car drove by in the distance.

“You think anyone saw?” he asked.

“I hope so.”