A Walk in the Park

Claire smiled as she breathed in the scent of the lilacs. The perfumed air was heavenly in late spring. She returned to her reading, careful to keep the front cover of her book lowered to her thighs: Penthouse Letters Volume 16. She was far enough from her downtown office to narrow the chance of a coworker coming across her Friday afternoon indulgence of erotica among the flowers.

Jack watched the object of his lust with wide eyes. There she sat on the park bench on the National Mall while common sweaty joggers passed by on their late afternoon circuit. She was oblivious to their frenzied motions. She seemed to be lost in thought while reading under the sun and as Jack watched, a small bead of summer's heat drizzle down her neck and into the valley between her tanned breasts.

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since he'd first laid eyes on her. It had begun innocently enough, in the elevator of their building. She had been in a hurry, iced chai in hand, when she rushed into the elevator and soon after, into his fantasies. Three more employees funneled into the elevator after her and she had shifted two steps back to allow them ample room. In the process she closed in on Jack's personal sense of space, the small of her back pressed momentarily against his stomach and previously undisturbed member. Jack came alive in that moment, her presence electrifying his. He was hooked, drawn into her, twisted around and ready to do anything she asked. That she was unaware of the devotion she inspired mattered little.

He'd found several excuses to cross her path since then. He knew when she entered the building each morning and had positioned himself to enter their office building nearly simultaneously to her arrival and they shared the elevator again and again. Each morning ride created a little jolt of happiness and arousal within Jack. Once, she'd spoken to him, "I like your tie. Very nice"." He managed a husky "Thanks." , but was unable to articulate anything of substance. His eyes met hers and he hoped they could convey all that his faltering tongue could not. Hers twinkled warmly in reply, but were hard to read for meaning.

Jack was out of control. He wanted Claire; wanted to touch her, taste her, feel her from the inside out and show her the pleasures his mind had turned over again and again in his fantasies. He felt his cock stiffen as his desires surged. Claire recoiled back on the bench; a bee buzzed close to her shoulder. In the movement, she lifted her arms and for the first time Jack got a direct view of the cover of the book. He blinked and his throat went dry. She was reading Penthouse! Holy shit! It was too much for Jack and he closed his eyes momentarily and attempted to breathe slowly. His arousal level was so intense he had trouble keeping his balance. He was possessed with a desire that could not be stalled; could not be contained and on impulse he walked closer to Claire, approaching her from behind.

Claire resumed reading, the momentary fear of a bee sting lost in the breeze that carried the would-be attacker away. The narrative was incredibly arousing, detailing a passionate sex scene between two close female friends who'd discovered their mutual attraction on a weekend spa retreat. With each descriptive sentence Claire felt the heat between her thighs intensify.

Suddenly, there was a quiet masculine voice directly behind her. Deep and husky, it spoke to her.

"Must be a good story.", the man stated playfully.

Caught! She was caught! She dared not turn around and look the stranger in the eye.

"Please don't turn around," he continued. "Close your eyes and put out your hand as I only want to please you."

She knew the voice. But from where? In her embarrassment she could not focus clearly on putting a face with the rugged orator. And then it hit her: the gentleman from the elevator. She'd seen him several times; a handsome man she'd estimated to be between mid thirties and mid forties with a smile that made her insides do a bit of a flip flop.

He leaned in closer to her neck and his tongue trailed her earlobe. He pulled it back quickly before dropping his voice to a whisper, "I only want to please you."

And then again with urgency, "Please." He was gently panting in her ear.

Claire made her decision with little hesitation. She closed her eyes and put out her left hand, now trembling.

Jack felt his balls ache. It was too much. She had actually complied. She had complied. She had complied. Now he was drunk with power.

He took her hand, noticing the tremble.

"I won't hurt you. There is nothing to fear. I only want to please you. You are so beautiful."

He tugged at her arm, indicating he wished her to stand. As he pulled her forward she began to follow, her purse and the corner of her book grasped in her right hand. As they walked, Jack began to detail his desire for her.

"I've been watching you. Every day this week. I watched you on Monday when you wore those sexy black suede heels. I love your the definition of your calves."

"I watched you on Tuesday when you wore the red skirt, slit up the back, and imagined it was an invitation you'd crafted especially for me. You are so desirable."

"I watched you on Wednesday when you laughed in the courtyard while chatting on the phone, your lips forming a perfect union, glistening and seductive. Your face is so beautiful."

"I watched you on Thursday when you fed the birds that lull about the courtyard. Your gentle kindness is intoxicating."

"And I've watched you today as you've been reading your novel, your studious focus drawing my attention."

Claire listened intently as Jack's words dripped with desire. The man expressed an all consuming lust that she'd never been the recipient of previously. It was incredible and it filled her with a rush of pleasure. They crossed a street and then after a short walk, another. She felt the sun recede and had the sense they were in an alley of sorts.

Jack's motion slowed and he spoke again. "I've taken you just out of view, but you'll have to trust me."

Claire gasped as Jack's movement became more aggressive. He pressed her against a wall. It was cool against her skin; brick. His hands moved quickly to unbutton her blouse enough to slip his hands inside and then he grasped her breasts, stroking her nipples with his thumbs through her satin bra. They stiffened in response and Claire moaned gently.

Jack leaned into Claire and and kissed her forcefully. His tongue darted around hers before retreating slowly back into his own mouth, daring her tongue to follow. Claire could give it as good as she was getting it and her tongue stormed the barrier of his lips and wrestled with his. To kiss, to be kissed, to be fondled in an unknown alley with her eyes tightly shut was unbelievable. Whatever he wanted from her, Claire was ready to give.

She lost herself in the sound of traffic and the feel of Jack's warm hands on her breasts. Jack stepped away from her and she waited in anticipation for his next move.

It took a moment for her to realize he was gone. She began to cry, soft slow tears sliding down her cheeks. She was so aroused, brought near to the edge by a complete stranger and left unfulfilled.

She ached for him; loved him and hated him all at once. She buttoned her blouse and began the slow walk back to her office, not bothering to hide her tears.