Bumping into Him

We'd had some decent snow during the week and I decided to go skiing on the weekend. I packed my stuff in my car and headed on out, driving carefully because of the snow. I had a bit of a prang anyway. Totally not my fault.

Well, okay, if pushed I'd have to admit to a smidgeon of responsibility. What happened was this - I was coming out of a T intersection wanting to turn into the cross stroke of the T. I was facing a stop sign and I stopped. Then I waited for a gap in the traffic and there weren't any, so I continued waiting.

A gap appeared and, even though it wasn't that large, I figured I could slot into it quite easily. I trod on the accelerator, perhaps a little harder than required, and stayed right where I was, my wheels spinning in the slush. It was obvious to me that I wasn't going to make that gap so I went to take my foot off the accelerator when the wheels gained traction and my car just shot forward.

The problem was that the gap had gone and I was suddenly charging at traffic. (Annoying as there was a much larger gap approaching.) I hastily hit the brakes and turned the wheel, not trying to enter the traffic but to finish up in the safety lane. A fat chance I had of doing that. My stupid car just started drifting sidewards into the traffic.

A few seconds later and I'd have drifted into that approaching gap but the here and now was another car that I was going to broadside unless he got out of my way. The driver pulled over to the far lane, risking oncoming traffic (fortunately there wasn't any) but my car simply followed and bumped him. It was just a little bump and it helped me gain control and, being a good citizen, I pulled over into the emergency lane. The driver of the other car did the same, pulling up slightly ahead of me.

I hopped out of my car and walked around it to inspect the damage. Not too bad, really. Some nasty scratches all along the side but they were only scrapes. No lights broken, the mirror was intact and the doors looked as though they'd still open and close. I assume that the other car was in a similar condition.

Hearing heavy footsteps approach I looked up to see the other driver advancing on me. I say advancing because he looked like an army prepared to tread the foe beneath their feet, and in this case I was the foe. Still, they say the best defence is a good attack.

"This was totally your fault," I told him before he could say a word. "If you'd braked like a sensible person you'd have left room for me to slot into the flow of traffic. As it is, you hit me. Look at what you've done to my poor car."

"My fault!" the man exclaimed, sounding surprised. "I had the right of way and you came charging into the traffic like a bull after a flock of matadors and you say it's my fault?"

"Matadors don't come in flocks," I pointed out. "If you'd been paying attention to the traffic you'd have realised that I was there and been able to avoid me when I had a problem. Totally your fault. I'll accept your apology."

I was sure that turning that colour couldn't have been healthy. He also seemed to have a touch of aphasia as he seemed unable to answer. He took a deep breath and his colour returned to a more healthy appearance and he found his voice.

"Why don't we just exchange our insurance details, quickly," he said. "I fear that if I have to stand here listening to your vapid logic much longer I'll either strangle you or beat you."

"You wouldn't dare touch me," I said with a gasp. "We're in a public place."

Did I mention that he was a very big man? I barely came up to his shoulders. He was also at least twice as wide as me. I had a sudden vision of me lying across his lap, my bottom bare, while those great clubs he called hands bounced off my buttock cheeks as though he was playing the bongo. My face was hot and I just knew I was blushing, and an odd lick of heat flared to life in my groin. I swallowed nervously. He just smiled and it was a very evil smile.

"If I was just beating you up people might stop to help," he admitted. "If I just bent you over and paddled your backside they're probably more likely to stop to laugh. My card."

He produced a card from his wallet and handed it to me. A glance at it gave me his name and occupation.

"My insurance details are on the back," he told me. "I always carry a couple in case I run into an incompetent driver."

"Run into many do you?" I asked. "I guess they can't all dodge something as big as that monstrosity you drive."

I thought about saying something about compensating for something but I didn't quite have the nerve. I produced my insurance details and he whipped out his phone and took a photo of them. Then he took a photo of my license plate.

I watched him drive away. My insurance would cover everything bar the excess but the incident was annoying.

I reached the ski lodge without anything else happening, checked in, dumped my stuff in my room, and then went to get a drink at the café/bar that was part of the lodge. I got my drink and was heading over to a table to drink it when I heard someone call my name. Turning to look I saw a friend of mine, Louise, waving to me. I waved back and changed direction, intending to go and join up with her.

I promptly crashed into what felt like a brick wall, my drink spilling all over it.

"If you don't mind," I said with some irritation. Really, some people are so careless where they walk.

"I do, as a matter of fact," came a very nasty voice, "And before you say it was my fault let me point out that I was standing still when you walked into me."

I looked higher than the chest I was facing and found myself looking at the other driver. Just my luck.

"You deliberately stood where I was walking," I protested. "It's just the mean-spirited thing a driver as poor as you would do."

"Aren't you the lucky one," he said, leaving me confused. He must have seen my confusion because he amplified his meaning. "We're still in public, so you get away with it again."

For god's sake. That image of him paddling my naked tush popped into my mind again and I just knew I was blushing. I was also feeling that lick of heat in my loins reigniting. Without replying I turned back to the bar to replace my drink, hearing him chuckle quietly, the rotten man.

I joined up with Louise and we finished up having dinner together. After dinner I went back to my room to make sure I had everything ready for the next day's skiing. That done I was bored. It was too early to go to bed, there was nothing worth watching on the television, and I didn't bring any books or magazines with me. I decided to go down to the games room and maybe get a game of pool or something.

I went barging out of my room into the corridor and promptly ran straight into someone who was walking past, mainly because I was looking back at the door to make sure it closed properly, which it didn't. I turned to look at the person who'd dared to get in my way and I couldn't believe it.

"What is this?" I demanded. "Have you declared a national knock-Denise-over day? Everywhere I go there you are, bumping into me."

"Shoe's on the other foot," he insisted. "You're the one who's bumping into me. Even when I was standing still you managed to collide with me."

"You had no right to be loitering outside my door," I told him. "This was so much your fault. You've been sent to afflict me with grievous ills."

"That's true, I have," he said with a sigh. "Poor little Denise. And it's even worse this time."

"What do you mean, worse?" I asked suspiciously.

"We're not in public," he replied, reaching past me to push my door further open and then sort of hustling me inside the room, closing the door behind him.

I have to admit I was somewhat startled to suddenly find myself alone with him in my room. Still, I recovered quickly.

"You get out of here," I demanded, "and I mean right now."

"But you're not taking the circumstances into consideration, sweetie," he said, smiling a nasty smile.

"What circumstances?"

"The inconvenient little fact that you've collided with me three times today and been rude about it afterwards. The even more inconvenient fact that I couldn't give you the paddling you were begging for because we were in public. The very pleasing fact that we're not in public and I can go about attending to that paddling."

Just like that he seemed to double in size. My face was red, that blasted flash of heat was back in my groin, and a flock of butterflies had taken up residence in my stomach.

"You can't do that," I protested. "I'll scream."

He had the gall to look amused.

"Listen, sweetie, at this time of the evening most of the rooms will be empty. Apart from that they're soundproofed. It was included with the last renovation, as there'd been complaints about what people heard from other rooms. The soundproof material also acts as an insulator so there's a savings on heating costs which made the whole thing economically viable."

Oh boy. The butterflies were breeding. It must have been the increased heat down below that was encouraging them. I backed away from him, shaking my head.

"You wouldn't dare," I said indignantly.

"You just keep telling yourself that," he said, moving closer.

I jumped to the side and tried to get past him but he just reached out with one long arm and snagged me as neat as you please. He dragged me up against him, ne arm going around my waist, holding me tight. I yanked at his hand and I couldn't so much as move one of his blasted fingers. While I was wriggling and trying to pry myself free he was dragging me closer to the bed. Oh my god, there's a bed here! I was now really feeling all hot and bothered.

He sat down, dragging me face down across his lap at the same time. All of a sudden, wearing a pretty dress to be seen in down in the games room seemed a bad idea. I should have been wearing jeans. Tight jeans. Jeans that would require half an hour to take off. Too late now.

I tried to struggle but it was totally useless. The hand he had on my back holding me in place was as good as an iron chain. He lifted my dress and I told him what I thought of him and described him and his forefathers to the nth generation. He laughed and pulled down my panties.

Oh god! This was the way I'd imagined it, me across his knee and my bare bottom on display. I told him he was a pervert and a paedophile and he seemed to go still. Then I felt him relax a little.

"If you're referring to yourself might I point out that you drive a car? I noticed your birthdate on your license when you showed it to me. Not quite nineteen according to that."

I just snarled something else rude and then gave a yell when his hand came down firmly on my bottom.

"You rotten pig," I yelled, and yelled again when his hand came down again.

I was feeling humiliated and infuriated. Embarrassed and wildly excited. Oddly enough, what I wasn't feeling was frightened. I somehow knew that he wasn't really going to hurt me, just demonstrate who was the boss, and if pushed I'd have had to admit that maybe I could have been a bit more polite about the various accidents.

My feelings didn't seem to matter to him. He just went right ahead and spanked me. The butterflies in my tummy had gone, being replaced by a burning bottom. The burning of my bottom was, in its turn, offset by the burning in my groin, one that was internal. That embarrassment that I mentioned? Caused by the fact that I was sure my pussy was flowering and begging for attention and I couldn't see how he could fail to notice this.

He gave me a pretty good spanking, damn him, totally unfazed by my squawking and wriggling and abuse. (The abuse faded out pretty quickly as his hand seemed to get harder whenever I swore. I could take a hint.) The only thing I will say in his favour was that he didn't try to take indecent advantage of me while he was spanking me. He was all businesslike, getting a chore done and not being distracted by secondary considerations.

With the spanking finished he swung me back onto my feet, my dress dropping back into place to cover my embarrassment. I glared at him and he simply smiled at me.

"You can't say you weren't warned," he pointed out.

I could if I wanted to but I didn't. I just hadn't dreamt that he'd ever be in a position to make good on that threat. I just stood there glowering.

I was a trifle disconcerted when he winked at me, reached over and ran his hand up the inside of my leg, all the way up until he was cupping my mound. My eyes opened wide and I just gaped at him.

I snapped my mouth shut and then managed to open it again and demanded to know just what he thought he was doing.

"Well, I noticed that you were getting a little aroused by the spanking and thought I should do something about it. It's only fair. If I caused it I should fix it. Unlike some, I'm willing to take responsibility for situations that I cause."

He wasn't just touching me now but actively rubbing my pussy, his fingers seeming to be able to touch all sorts of sensitive places. I tried to pull away from him and that's when I realised that his other hand was cupping my bottom, holding me in place.

"Will you please take your hands off me?"

That's what I said. I didn't scream or rant or carry on. I just politely asked him to remove his hands. That was fair and reasonable wasn't it?

OK, so maybe I really yelled at him to take his hands off me, adding appropriate descriptive words as I spoke. It amounts to the same thing. His hands off me.

He had the gall to laugh at me.

"Now you know that if I did take my hands away you'd be all disappointed," he told me. "Really, fancy being all worked up and no relief in sight. That would be so unfair. Still, speaking of things coming off you, why don't we start with that dress?"

With that his hands were off me, which was a plus, but busy lifting my dress, which was a double minus. The net result was a minus as I found myself standing before him starkers, my dress lying on the floor next to me.

"I didn't think you were wearing a bra," he said. "Nice to see that I was right."

Seeing he wasn't holding me any longer I took the chance to jump back away from him. While I obviously wasn't going to run screaming out the door in the altogether I figured that I could dodge him easily enough within the room. Long enough to grab my phone and call Louise to come and rescue me.

Oddly enough he didn't even try to catch me. He just sat on the bed, smiling. Then he pushed his trousers down and his equipment sprang up into the air. It seemed that his cock was built on the same lines as him, big and broad. Too big for his own good. Certainly too big for my good.

"Now be a good girl and come here and sit down," he told me, a finger lightly flicking his erection so it swayed back and forth like a snake getting ready to strike.

"Do you seriously expect me to just walk over there and sit on that?" I demanded, feeling totally shocked at the very idea.

He looked at me thoughtfully and then nodded.

"Yeah, that about sums it up," he agreed.

Butterflies in my tummy nothing - I had bats fluttering around inside me. I stared at him (at least, at part of him, albeit a large part) and I didn't see how those stupid butterflies or bats or whatever could survive the heat boiling up within me.

He must have reached out and grabbed me because I was positive I hadn't got that close to him of my own volition. I was standing right in front of him, his hands cupping my bottom, not pulling me forward so much as providing a disincentive to backing away again.

I changed my mind and decided that he must have been pulling me closer, even if I hadn't noticed it, because I was now standing straddling his legs with his cock brushing against me. I could feel him lifting me slightly and I scrambled up onto the bed, really straddling him, with his cock between my legs, the tip of it brushing against my lips.

"This is rape, you know," I told him, even as I found myself settling down a little, his cock now pressing more firmly against me.

"If you say so," he agreed and, satisfied that I was being forced to do this, I let myself relax, slowly sinking down, feeling his engorged member sliding steadily up into me.

It seemed to take forever as I settled onto him, his cock creeping further and further into me. Then I was firmly pressing against him, his cock fully seated within me, and I let out my breath with a whoosh. I hadn't even realised I'd been holding it.

He winked at me and then lay back on the bed, the very action of him doing that seeming to drive just that little bit deeper. He swivelled around, taking me with him, so he was lying properly on the bed with me sitting on top of him.

He lay there and I sat on him. I sat on him and he just lay there. Slowly it dawned on me that that monster wasn't going to do anything. He was quite content to just lie there, enjoying the feel of me being wrapped around his cock. Obviously some sort of male dominance thing. I had only one option available to me and I took it. I started rocking back and forth.

As I moved I could feel his cock sliding within me, drawing back as I leaned forward, only to push deeper as I leaned back again. Those little movements were arousing me even more, stirring me up, heating my blood. I wanted more, no, I needed more, and I started moving a bit more vigorously.

He, I noticed, was breathing harder, for all his attempts to act as if I wasn't getting to him. Smirking I leaned forward until I was lying on him, my breasts crushed against him, and from that position I started moving my hips more freely.

Now I was sliding up and down his pole, making the most of it. I saw no reason to rush things. If I had to do this I might as well take my time and do it properly. A little bit of this sort of attention and I was pleased to see that he was starting to grit his teeth. Suffer, you bastard, was my attitude.

Not his, it turned out. He suddenly rolled over, taking me under him. His hands closed over my breasts and he started playing with them even as he started pounding into me.

Oh my god. Everything up until this point had been foreplay apparently. Now he was settling down to show me what he was made of and he had a lot to show and I was getting it all.

My legs came up and wrapped around him and all I could do was cling to him and ride out the storm. He used me ruthlessly, with me squealing and clinging and doing my best to keep up with him. I had no doubt that I'd have fingerprints all over my breasts and probably a bruised pussy besides. Not that I was protesting, I have to admit. The way I was squealing it undoubtedly sounded as though I was encouraging him, urging him on.

Then it was a case of oh my god, I'm going to climax, and then I did, doing my best to shut my mouth so that I didn't scream like a banshee and scare the other residents to death. He, I idly noticed, was pumping into me quite energetically, watering the ground that he'd just ploughed.

He left, whistling happily, and I lay there, spent. Finally I got up, had a shower, and decided that maybe I should go to bed after all. I put on my pyjamas and retired for the night.