Bound to Happen

"Oh, you can't get away. That's why you are scared of me."

"My boyfriend and I were playing. We thought we were alone. We didn't want to bother anyone. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she tried to explain and stammer.

He immediately knew that she was in a weaker mental frame. And he knew how to take advantage of any opening.

"Do you spare a quarter?"

"Of course, just take it out of my coat pocket."

The man quickly bent down. She could see his filthy hands. They were browned from dirt. They had dried red wine marks. They had calluses. The fingers moved across the trench coat fabric. She carefully crawled her body sideways to let him search the coat. He pulled the coat out from under her. Now she was bereft of everything, her keys and all. Her body was on the uncovered ground.

He took his time fishing through her pockets. He found her purse. He looked through the purse.

"You look handsome on your driver license. I like the pig tails. So, you are 23 years old and got your license in Milwaukee. You are a far way from home. So am I. If a veteran ever has a home but the army."

"Can you just take the quarter and not look through my stuff?"

"See this is a nice coat. I could take the whole coat. In my time, I have often been jumped in the street and lost my jacket. That's how I learned not to wear nice things. And when I sleep, I always keep one eye open so nobody steals my shoes."

She yanked at her handcuffs to get closer to him in an outburst. It only made him experience her helplessness even more.

"I worked hard for that coat. That's at least two days of my pay!"

"I didn't say that I would take it. I only said that I could."

"Why are you messing with me."

She was now angry. She tried kicking him with her foot. To attempt to reach him, she had to crawl on her knees with her butt facing him. Her modesty of covering her slit was gone. Her bare feet kept stabbing into the night air into the direction of his voice. He watched her laboring cuteness from a safe distance.

He kept rifling through her purse until he found the crumpled up note. While scratching his skin, he read the crossed out items and then the open bucket list items. They were mostly short phrases, except for the very last one: "Act out a forbidden fantasy from the erotic long tale novel: Be forced by my lover to service a nasty homeless in the street."

He read that last one out loud to see her reaction.

"No, that's private. That's for fantasy play with my boyfriend. I don't mean to have sex with a real homeless."

"In all my years in the army, that never happened. In all my years, in the street such a thing never happened. However, I will make you a bargain. You tell me about your fantasy. And I will leave you with your coat and all your money."

"That's unfair!"

"Well, all you need to do is give me a little bit of your fantasy."

"Okay, my lover would take me into a dark harbor street in the abandoned part of town. He'd point at a homeless sleeping near the docks. He'd tell me to open his pants and eat him with all the foul smell. And the foul smell would just degrade me so much and turn me on so much."

He reached into her purse and threw her driver license in front of her. She quickly grabbed it with both hands and clutched it so tightly that no bit of it was visible anymore.

"Tell me more for your house keys."

"And then my lover would tell me to strip naked and put my beaver over the man's face. My clean, shaven, and loved beaver would go over that dirty mouth with the yellow teeth and that god horrible smell. And that reek wafting into my pussy would shudder me and turn me on at the same time."

The keys went in an arc flying into the grass in front of her with a clattering sound.

"Credit card?"

"And I'd get so horny that I could not hold myself back and I'd have to jump on his cock. And my lover would not allow me to wear a condom so that we would be skin to skin. There would be no separation between us. I would be so humiliated by my horniness driving me to fuck that guy."

The credit card flew rotating through the air and landed softly. She collected her belongings under her boobs and kept her body protective over them.

"The rest of your wallet!"

"That's it. That's my whole fantasy. And then we, my boyfriend and I, would make a sandwich. Of course, we'd never do it in real. We'd only act it out on each other."

"Do you want to smell what a homeless cock smells like?"

"Ugh, no!"

"You don't have to touch it. Just smell it for a moment. You can even hold your breath."

"Okay. But only a second."

The man got in front of her and kneeled. He was wearing two blankets on top of each other, perhaps a poncho beneath it. His pants were large and ripped. He definitely kept warm by piling all kinds of things on top of him. He looked large. Perhaps, the military had given him muscles back then that were now augmented by fat of poor nutrition.

He had drawstring pants that he popped open. His penis was almost normal, and almost clean. She inhaled. It did reek. It smelled like a boy's room times ten. There was this intense smell of unwashed cock and teenage masturbation.

"You did smell! You didn't hold your breath!"

"I was curious."

She reached tried to reach with both hands for the cock. Yet her hands could not lift of the ground with the hand cuffs. She had to lean forward for her pointed tongue reach his cock. He looked puzzled.

"I was curious," she repeated. "I won't get to taste that again in my life."

"So, is it like in your fantasy."

"I could not really taste it." She leaned forward more to swallow his cock for a moment. She was careful to have her lips around his cock very precise and formal. She pulled back.

"It tastes way worse than I imagined. It's a guttural kind of revulsion that makes my core shudder. At the same time, there is an instinctive drive to go nuts and taste more."

"Why don't you go for it?"

"I won't give you a blow job?"

"Well, you earned your wallet."

He handed it to her and sat down in the grass. He looked over her body up close. She was resting on her elbows. Her boobs were hanging down. The hanging made them seem even more tender. Her earlobes were small and tender. Everything about her was tender and youthful. His gaze wondered down the curved small of her back. He ogled the twin bulbs of her butt. "It's funny," he thought to himself, "a young girl can be ugly. However, the youth makes her beautiful regardless. She realized that the girl was really just average in her age group. Yet, to him, she looked like an Arabian princess wet dream."

He ripped out a piece of grass. He let the grass slowly trail over her shoulder, down along her spine, around her butt. She looked at him defiantly and calmly. She knew that she wasn't going to rape her. He had spent way too much time on small talk and shown who he was. He licked his lips and looked coyly, even questioning at her face before the grass drifted down between her butt cheeks and gently played with her pussy. She could barely feel it. His fingers stayed away a respectful distance.

"I know how riled up the mob gets about rape. I won't rape you. I'm not even touching you. I want you to remember that."

Even in such a helpless situation rules were drawn in the sand. He could toy with her, gaze his eyes out, yet he could never cross lines that would get him into real trouble in the aftermath. The grass flicked left and right trying to part her vaginal lips. She couldn't even feel it. She also didn't open his legs to help him. He had immense fun tittering on the delicate line of serious taboo and joyful lust.

The grass drew the moistness of her pussy and cum of her lover onto her thighs like a paint brush. He could smell her young, healthy pussy and the musky smell of her ass. The moon light made her hair shimmer beautifully. A sound in the bushes disturbed him.

"That's my boyfriend. He's gonna beat you up."

The homeless ran as fast as he could. "Here is your coat and all," he whispered with outstretched legs, while he tossed everything softly into the grass nearby. She could hear it softly falling.

Her boyfriend came, swiftly unlocked her, and looked at her with expecting eyes that twinkled with lust.

"Let's just go home."

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This story was inspired by "NonGenericBrand". He has the story of the same title on Literotica. I simply loved the theme so much that I had to make my own version to be able to re-experience it. You should check out the original.