First, a bit of background. This is the first in a series of DJs’ sexual escapades. DJ is the nickname that my ex-wife was known by. She never cared for either of her given names, although I never thought that either was a terrible name. So, in deference to her, she shall continue to be known only as “DJ”.

When we first met, we were both working for a large company with our office located in the downtown area of a large southern city. Our relationship started innocently enough. We would join our co-workers at our favorite “watering hole”. It was a nice place, just a block down from our office.

Over a period of time, we were passing glances back and forth that conveyed more than just casual interest. To make quite a long story shorter, we became involved sexually, and that was when I learned just how much DJ loved to fuck, or for that matter, anything sexual, giving blowjobs, handjobs, being eaten out, and exposing herself in public. We would spend our lunch hours in my van. The van was parked inside a self-serve parking garage on a monthly basis.

Now, for DJ’s physical description. DJ was 5’ 10” and weighed about 128 pounds. Her rather tall and slender body accentuated her ample breasts. They had no sag whatsoever and were capped with aureole about the size of a half dollar. Her nipples were quite sensitive and would extend to more than three-quarters of an inch when DJ became aroused.

She had long, firm legs due to her hobby (other than fucking and sucking) of running. She had participated in and won several of the corporate 5K and 10K runs. Her stomach was very flat with just a slight bulge just above her pussy. Her stamina was incredible. She could have marathon fuck sessions, having multiple orgasms.

Now on to the day at the park. As I mentioned, our office was located in the downtown section of the city. While some of the adjacent buildings were vacant and had started to show signs of neglect, there were revitalization efforts ongoing to bring business and people back to the downtown area. A nice park with a fountain had been created about three short blocks from the office. It also had a small amphitheater for concerts during lunch when the weather was nice.

One day during the summer, DJ and I decided to forgo “lunch” in the van and went to get a sandwich at a shop on the far side of the park. After we had eaten, we strolled back through the park. There was no concert that day, and we just headed down one of the many brick paths that traversed the park.

I had started to take a certain path when DJ said, “Let’s go this way,” and turned onto another path. I didn’t say anything as it didn’t make any difference to me. We had walked on for a short distance when I noticed that DJ had slowed her pace. As I looked up at her, I could see that she was looking across an open green space toward another wider path that paralleled one of the streets that bounded the park.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she replied as we continued down the way toward the intersection of the paths.

As we approached the other path, DJ slowed her pace even more and looked back down the other path.

“Let’s go this way,” she said and turned onto the wider path.

“We’re going away from the office in this direction,” I said as I turned to follow her.

“I know,” she said. “Aren’t the paper boxes down this way?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Which paper did you want? I have the local back at the office.”

“No,” she hesitated. “I want to pick up a copy of the Intown Crier.” This was a free publication which listed coming events in the city and gave reviews on the newest movies and restaurants.

As we approached the rows of paper boxes, I noticed that DJ was looking toward the short bench-type wall that was part of the fountain. The fountain was the focal point of the park and was directly across the brick area from the paper boxes.

DJ had come to a stop about twenty feet from the boxes. When I looked up and was about to comment on that, I noticed that DJ had a flushed hue starting to spread upward from her neck. I also noticed that her nipples were now straining the light fabric of the cream-colored blouse she was wearing.

Just as I began to speak again, she mouthed, “That must be him.”

“Who?” I asked, trying to follow her gaze.

I think it was then that she finally remembered that I was even there.

“Just someone the girls back at the office had told me about, it’s nothing really.” She said, but her face was still turned in the direction of the fountain, which was some fifty feet away.

“Either there’s something to it,” I said, “or you’re having hot flashes. I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

DJ then turned to me and said, “Don’t turn around but look at the group of guys standing by the fountain wall. See the one with the multi-colored shirt and khaki-colored pants? He has dreadlocks.”

I turned slowly and looked toward the fountain. Standing near the bench was a group of five or six black guys who looked to be in their mid-twenties. The one DJ had described was standing in the middle of the group. He was probably 5’ 11”, weighing between one eighty or one ninety. He had fine features and an athletic build. He did indeed wear his hair in long dreadlocks reminiscent of Bob Marley.