Fireworks R Fun

I love fireworks, which is pretty much the only good thing I have to say about July 4th any more since it was sabotaged by jingoistic conservatives, terrible music, New York City, and corporations.  I'll be honest though, the last time I went to see a fireworks display on the Fourth of July was a long time ago.  I've seen fireworks since, but that was the last Fourth of July display I saw.

The traffic was appalling, but that just meant that Mike and I got to get seriously busy in the back seat.  Mom and Dad put towels over the windows, ostensibly to keep out the sun, but Mike and I viewed it as the perfect opportunity for a back-seat game of Independence Declaration.  He signed his John Hancock internally twice before we got to a parking space and had to pull clothes back on and pile out.  Sheri was too cool for fireworks (I believe she was off having celebrations of her own) and Mari was doing something else, I forget what, so it was Mom, Dad, me, and Mike, with a cooler of lemonade, some sandwiches, and a blanket.

And a huge fucking crowd.  The lawn around the place was covered.  We found a place in the shade about a mile away (maybe not quite that far, but far), set up camp, and Mike and I wolfed down our sandwiches and went running off to try to find some privacy (because for whatever reason we were randy as rabbit sailors on shore leave after the great rabbit celibacy outbreak of 1903).  There really was very little privacy to be found, so we actually wound up back at the car, trying to get it done quickly because it was really fucking hot in there.

We got back and the music had started, so we sat around and listened to music until that got boring, then we played cards for a while.  Mike kept flashing his cock at me, calling it a sky-rocket, promising explosions and so forth.  But there was nowhere to go.  The sky was getting darker, fireworks were upcoming, and the heat was backing off a little.

Once it got dark out, they launched into The Stars and Stripes Forever, which was always the cue for fireworks.  It was so dark that Mike and I started fooling around a little even though there were people quite close around us, not close enough to catch us easily, but if they'd looked hard at us they might have noticed something was up.  When I got his cock out of his pants and started sucking it, Dad turned around and said, "Okay kids, that's enough.  Lexi, come sit with me if we can't trust you to be good."

The fireworks started, and we all leaned back and looked up, and I shifted over and sat in Dad's lap, and lo and behold there was a rocket pressing into my ass as I sat there.  I wiggled a little bit, just to drive him crazy, tried to shift my ass so my dress would ride up, until finally Dad looked at me and asked, "Are you really that desperate?"

I grabbed his hand, still looking at the fireworks, and pressed it between my legs so he could see I had no panties on under my skirt, and he shook his head but laughed and said, "Tell the truth, girly, I'm ready too.  Just keep it nice and easy, don't be flailing around and groaning and screaming, okay?"  I nodded, and he pulled his fly open, let his cock out under my dress, and then we shifted a little until I sank down on him and was just sitting there looking up at the sky filled with fireworks, feeling him throbbing warm inside me.

I wish I could say that we timed it so we both went off at the climax of the display, or when the cannons fired during the 1812 Overture, or something like that, but really, we just sat there and watched and occasionally I would rock a little, or he would press his hips up into mine a bit.  Neither of us actually got off during the display.

When it was over, Mom was all set to pack up, but Dad said, "Lexi and I just want to sit here for a little while; no rush, the traffic will be terrible.  We should just wait until things clear out a little."  Mom gave us a look and then shook her head as if to say, "You're as bad as she is," then she sat down, slipped her hand over to Mike's crotch, and pretty soon she had him out and was stroking him.

Dad and I knew that we had to finish up more quickly that would be possible if we just sat there, so once our section sort of cleared out a little, I got more enthusiastic with my movements and Dad followed suit.  When I saw Mom duck her head down to suck the cream out of Mike's spurting cock, that made me go off, hard, and I was still tingling a little when Dad rolled us over onto our side so he could fuck me harder; half a minute of deeper thrusting took me over the edge again, and he filled me shortly thereafter.  Things were getting pretty deserted on the field at that point and we didn't want to attract too much attention, so we hurriedly cleaned everything up and made our escape.

And that was the last Independence Day fireworks I saw in person.  Since then, we've been setting off our own in our backyard, just little fountains and sparklers and so on.  I really enjoy them, particularly because it means that we're in private so we can do whatever the fuck we want to whomever the fuck we want.  But I do still wonder whether that last time was the cause of our never going to fireworks again, or whether it was just a great way to end.  Maybe both.  I do know that I've gotten less and less happy with picnics during the heat of summer in crowded fields, and while I miss some things about it, I don't miss others.  A good memory though.