With Peaches in the funfair - 1.

The last warm afternoon before the cold sets in, and Peaches knows exactly where we should spend it. She’s been to the fairgrounds a dozen times this season alone, so she leads the way through the colored lights and the smell of spun sugar. We find an empty stretch behind the carousel, away from the crowd. She leans against the metal railing, the blonde strands catching the last of the sun, and watches me with that little smile she gets when she’s already decided what’s going to happen next. I step in close. Her hand finds the front of my jeans, palm pressing hard enough to make me catch my breath, then she drops to her knees right there on the grass. The zipper comes down fast. She takes me in her mouth with that slow, sure rhythm she’s good at, lips sliding all the way to the base before she pulls back and does it again. I hold her hair, guiding her, feeling her throat open for me each time. When I can’t wait anymore I pull her up, spin her around, bend her over the railing. She hikes her skirt and spreads her legs. I push inside her in one smooth stroke, and the sound she makes is half laugh, half moan. The brunette and the blonde hair mix when she turns her head to look back at me, eyes half-lidded. We fuck like that until the fair lights start to blur—hard, deep, with the noise of the rides just loud enough to cover every slap of skin and every wet sound she makes when I drive in again. She comes first, fingers gripping the railing, then I follow right after, emptying myself inside her while the sky turns that soft orange that only happens on the last warm day of fall.