Can You Imagine?

*** This tale contains elements of forced, incestual, and bi-sexual behaviors. I don't condone or endorse any of them. All of the characters are 21, and if they had a vote, they'd approve. There is also a touch of Transgender identity that I'm flying blind about. As always, this is not a documentary, IT'S ONLY A DIRTY STORY! ***

It was the deluge that forced me inside. When I boarded the bus after work the rain had just started to fall. On a very hot mid-summer evening after my shift, the cool spray felt good. At my stop, about four blocks from home, the skies opened-up as if it was time to build an arc. Through the downpour, I saw a familiar neon sign in a window and like a guiding beacon, I ran toward it. Having enough change for a pint or two, I stopped in the friendly oasis. My buddy Bruce was behind the bar and when I saw the puddles under many peoples' feet and the wet-mop hairdos on most of them, I knew that this would be my sanctuary until the storm let up.

The regulars were dripping wet too and that made me think that they had just arrived minutes before me. So I exchanged some nods and glances until my usual aperitif appeared. I looked around at the other drowned rats and one face from across the bar caught my eye. She was appropriately drenched like the rest of us but didn't quite fit the mold. I could only see her from the waist up, but what I saw really looked enticing.

She had straggly dark hair leaking droplets down her back to match the trickle of rain from the bill of her soaked and flattened cap. Each drop from above settled onto her prodigious front porch and dampened the frilly cotton enough to make it almost see-through. Her makeup ringed her eyes and was streaking down her cheeks like a bad Alice Cooper. And her summery, white blouse was drenched, revealing the flimsy, red bra that was no match in concealing her hefty boobs against the effects of Mother Nature. The sodden shirt clung lasciviously to her curvy upper body and I was thoroughly turned-on by her anguish. She sat proudly still recognizing that she had a great rack but knowing that perverts like me, were getting an extreme invitation to her well-developed anatomy.

She was holding a small glass of golden elixir in one hand while the other served double-duty trying to obscure the pointy nipples cutting through the wet material and tugging the clammy cotton from her shivering torso. She caught me watching her delicate maneuvers and averted her eyes, but a shy smile played on her trembling lips. I have a habit of imagining what some women would look like if their clothes suddenly dissolved and I believe she read my mind when she noticed me smirking at her. But in my defense, this was a very nice set of tits on a pretty girl, and I'd swear that I had seen them before.

She summoned Bruce to her side and after a whispered exchange, he returned with another shot of tequila and a dry bar towel. She downed this second shot like a veteran, with salt and lime, leaving just a red semi-circle of lipstick on the glass. Then with the towel tucked under her arm and a wet backpack that must have been sitting on her lap, she headed towards the ladies' room in gym shoes that squeaked with wetness on the wooden floor. I noticed as she walked away that she also had a very firm ass bouncing under her soaked jeans.

I motioned Bruce over and asked if he knew her name. He said that they had just met and that her name was Casey. She had recently moved into the neighborhood and apparently, lived right near me. Now I remembered her. Though I didn't know her name; with our apartments being nearly across the street and both on the third floor, plus with the aid of binoculars, I occasionally saw her walking around her bedroom and often sunbathing on the small balcony with her roommate or maybe a daughter. She was built for pleasure and her roomy was pleasantly put together, too. The other one was taller and heavier, Casey had bigger tits but the other one had longer legs and they both had blonde hair. I told Bruce that I would buy her the next drink and he smiled at my attempt.

The woman who walked out of the bathroom was not the same girl that went in. What an amazing transformation. This was not a young lady as I'd imagined but looked to be between 35 and forty, (about twice my age.) The cap was gone and her golden hair was brushed to a lustrous sheen. The runny makeup had been washed away, so she no longer looked goth. Small age-lines bordered her eyes and crinkled at the sides of her mouth, only making her appear sexier. She was definitely MILF material. I have learned that young women have something that older gals can never recapture but that older women gain something that a younger woman could never have.

The backpack must have contained her workout clothes from an earlier trip to the gym. She now was wearing a plain white tee with a Tweety-Bird logo and the soggy bra was missing. Her boobs jiggled with each step but her chest was warm and dry and the shirt no longer chafed her delicate nipples. The gooseflesh that had dotted her arms and chilled her lips was now, soft, tanned skin. The jeans too, were replaced by very short shorts and her taut, muscular thighs were bare and golden brown all the way down to her pink toenails. The socks and shoes must have been too water-logged to be comfortable. All-in-all, she presented a very tight package.

She breezed past her stool with a wave and when Bruce informed her that she had another one coming, she simply smiled and continued out the door. The rain had stopped and a light mist shrouded the darkened night. She skipped out the door bare-footed, dodging puddles as she made her way home. I slammed a fist on the old oak bar having missed my chance. I should have introduced myself or atleast said "Hello." I needed another drink, and two led to six, until my pockets were considerably lighter. I banged down my last shot and ignored the grimaces of the others who laughed at my feeble attempt at gallantry. I left Bruce a suitable tip, (he laughed too,) and staggered out into the damp night, feeling semi-drunk and belligerently horny.

I stumbled up the sidewalk following a light ahead like a spotlight guiding me in the direction of home. The light though, was coming from Casey's window and I couldn't stop thinking about her soft skin, blonde hair and big tits. I was crossing to my side of the street when I saw the light go out. That was the bathroom light and instantly, the softer glow of her bedroom brightened. I could just see a silhouette in the shaded window of a shapely woman moving around and I pictured her naked again. I halted in the middle of the street, reasoning why it would be a grand idea to knock on her door. Many of my eighty-proof decisions are handled in this exact manner. This would probably turn-out to be a mistake but regretfully, sometimes the little head does the critical thinking for the big head. And the little head was currently engorged and straining against my denims. A speeding Honda helped to solve my dilemma and I headed to her place. On the way, I smoothed down my hair and tucked in my shirt- ready!

The entrance to her place was around the back of an old house, and I clambered up to the porch. Here in the glare of the single bulb, I did a last scrutinizing self-inspection. It was late and I've been in the same work clothes since early morning. I smelled of alcohol and my clothes were wrinkled and wet. I wasn't even certain of her name and she didn't know me at all. I had no flowers to announce my intentions and only nickels in my pocket in the event that she would accede to paint the town with me. What have I got to lose? I rang the buzzer and... got a sinking feeling in my gut. I saw a light come on inside and heard a soft, voice.

In the next minute I heard her lilting voice, tinged with uncontrollable giggling as she called out, "Did you misplace your keys again, my poor child. I'm going to buy you a bigger purse." I could hear each footstep as her bare feet padded carefully down the old wooden stairs. As she hit the landing, she nonchalantly unlatched the locks and smilingly swung open the heavy door, fully expecting someone else entirely. For a nano-second I caught her 100-Watt smile as her petite nose crinkled and her pearly teeth showed. She was dressed in just a shorty, flimsy nightgown that barely reached her full hips and a satiny robe that she must have thrown on in haste because it was untied and hanging loose on her soft shoulders. Her sheer nighty traced the hefty outline of her firm tits and they jutted-out perfectly round and riding high. Her tits were a marvel of structural engineering. Then she froze like a deer caught in headlights.

A concerned and alarmed frown curled at the edges of her dainty lips and the brown brows above her icy blue eyes arched in fear and surprise. Obviously, I was not the expected arrival. A confused expression first broke over her sharpened features and then as she must have realized where she had previously felt my ogling leer, she attempted to hide her scantily clad figure behind the big door and to press her body against it to push it closed. Only the side of her face and her right hand remained visible but they both colored red as she put her weight behind the effort to lock me out. I had made the initial mistake of stepping forward when she opened the door, so my knee caught the force of her body trying to slam the door shut.

With a mighty roar, I swore at the top of my lungs as my leg was squashed between the hard woods, and in pushing the door open to free myself, I inadvertently slammed her against the wall causing her slippery feet to slide across the floor and sending her to her backside. The recoil of the substantial door caught me again and I slammed it shut behind me. She jumped up in fright as a loud, semi-drunken intruder lumbered over her fallen body. And in an instant, not waiting for any more dialog, she hopped for the steps and raced up the narrow staircase. This was not at all, what I had planned- ofcourse if I had bothered to plan anything, I would not be rubbing my knee and swearing like a sailor.

Casey flew up the steps with her breezy robe trailing behind her like a cape. As she gained elevation on the stairs and was about ten feet past me, at my approximate eye level, I saw that she was completely naked underneath her gown and the twin butt-cheeks of her firm ass landed solidly with every footfall. Her toes gripped the worn, wooden steps as she took them two at a time and didn't look back. I discerned that she was frightened for her life and if I let her reach the top landing, I might be in a world of trouble. I really had no other choice so, I climbed after her, (another brilliant alcohol-induced resolution.)

Casey appeared rather stocky and top heavy but she flew up those narrow steps like a mountain goat. I knew that I couldn't allow her to get behind a closed door without my getting a chance to explain. She just reached the top when I extended a hand, trying to slow her down. There is no good way to apprehend a running female. Especially one who thinks you are aiming to hurt her. I reached for her waist, hoping to control her without knocking her over or indecently touching her. But I grabbed her collar and as she turned the corner into her bedroom still at full gallop, the sheer material ripped right down the middle and she ran right out of it. Her back glistened with perspiration and the fine muscles tensed with nary a tan-line in sight. Little ripples of flesh danced across her solid rear end as she raced toward the bed. It's strange, the things you notice in the heat of pursuit.

The room was uncommonly muggy and hot from both her recent shower and the room not having air-conditioning in this eighty-degree summer night. I guess that's why when she dove onto the bed for protection, there was none to be offered. A simple mattress with one light sheet and a pillow, were the only things within her reach. Her soggy clothes were in the hamper and her shoes still dripping in the tub. The remains of her tattered gown had slid down her arms and now, dropped to the carpeted floor. The sheet was her only defense and it wasn't too formidable. I understood that I had essentially broken-in and forcefully disrobed her and was now about to grab her before she could scream and awaken an entire neighborhood. (Thank goodness I was sobering-up, because the "plan" so far had gone 100% haywire.)

She flopped on the bed, yanking the sheet around her terrified, writhing form and immediately behind, I jumped on next to her. Her bright blue eyes were wild as she felt herself cornered prey. The blonde hair was tussled and sweaty strands clung to her tear-streaked cheeks. Her chest heaved and her legs kicked and I was forced to get control over her thrashing body. This was no time for delicacy; to lower the "heat" in the room and to possibly keep me out of jail, I needed to stifle her attempted screams and to contain the whirling dervish that was her defensive posture. I covered her mouth with one hand, carefully avoiding her ravenous teeth and wrestled her on to her stomach, where I hoped to be safe from her violent kicks and the flailing of her clenched fists.

She struggled and contorted her sinewy frame so that it was like capturing an octopus. The bed sheet fell to the floor and I climbed ontop of her naked back, actually sitting on her cushiony butt. Casey was a dynamo but I am about half a foot taller and seventy pounds heavier and the burst of adrenaline that sustained her struggle was ebbing, so keeping her quiet became the main concern. "Shh, Casey be still. Don't scream and I'll let go. Casey, do you hear me? I don't want to hurt you. Just don't yell and this will be easier." I tried to soothe her. I brushed the loose strands of hair from her eyes and rubbed the straining muscles of her compact shoulders. I tried to wipe the sweat from her back and massage the bruises rising on her tender skin.

Finally, she relented. Her body slumped underneath me and her heavy breathing relaxed. I saw that her face was blotched and her cheeks puffed-out, so I loosened my grip on her mouth. She let-out a giant gasp of air and twisted her head to face me, revealing that her beautiful face was laying in a puddle of her own saliva and perspiration. "Casey, don't scream and everything will be alright. I am not going to hurt you. Just relax, and this will be okay." I didn't realize just how stupid and pathetic I sounded to a naked, frightened woman with a man holding her down.

I was sitting on her and pressing my hand into her lower back. Even as she had been fighting me off, I found her to be sexy and desirable. My cock had extended to full length and now she could obviously feel it thumping against her backside. She spoke to me in a halting voice. "Why me?" she stuttered. "Please don't hurt me. Take what you want. Do whatever you want. Just please, don't hurt me and go." She gradually picked-up steam as she noticed my hips twisting on her fidgety frame. "Just do what you're going to do and please leave."

"Casey, I didn't come here to hurt you. I just wanted to see you and to meet you. Don't be scared. I'm not going to do anything to you." A puzzled expression layered over the worried and tortured look that I was already receiving. I eased up from sitting on her firm butt, allowing her to twist to her back and stretch some fatigued muscles. She was rubbing her wrists to enhance the blood flow and she saw me staring at her magnificent bosom. She moved to cover her abundant chest with her arm and stared malevolently.

"You say that you came to see me?" she hissed. "Well, there isn't much more to see, is there? I know what you want and why you're here. I saw it in your eyes at that bar." It made me feel bad that she only saw the dirty side of my feelings. And infact, I was a bit insulted, (though I had no right to be.) I tried to defend myself and to reason with her but I could see that it was a losing cause. I told Casey that I wasn't a rapist. A hard sell considering our present situation. But there was something else. I sensed from her sarcastic attitude and from the fact that she had stopped fighting and didn't even try to scream, and most importantly, that she wasn't entirely displeased with this unusual but sensual scene.

"First of all," she continued with her barbed harangue. "My name is not Casey, it's Karen." I was caught off-guard but not entirely surprised. Then she informed me that her initials were K.C. I laughed a little and then, so did she. "And I know that you came here to fuck me, so quit the bullshit and get on with it. The sooner that you're done, the quicker you'll leave." Now, I was surprised.

Was I mistaken? Was this some sort of reverse psychology? She just challenged me to rape her. I barked-out an uncomfortable laugh and she smirked at my hesitancy. But since I was still in a commanding position, I reached down with both hands and squeezed her generous breasts. She held a cold-blooded glare at my face, watching and almost dissecting my every movement. "Is that it?" she practically yawned. Now, I was emboldened and bitter.

I was still sitting just below her abdomen, and with one hand I reached behind me and grabbed her curly, blondish-brown pubic hair and gave it a tug. That caught her attention and wiped the smirk from her disinterested expression. Then I noticed that her fuzzy, little tuft of kinky cunt-hairs were wet and sticky. This was turning her on, as much as it was me. She was getting-off by being attacked and subdued. I couldn't be certain of my diagnosis but she was definitely wet. Instinctively, my fingers delved into the moist folds of her sodden pussy and I felt the outer lips open and welcome me in. As the heat and wetness suddenly increased, I saw those blue eyes roll up to the whites, and her lips parted with a soft, guttural moan that signaled that I found a hot spot. She cooed like a contented baby but writhed like a rutting whore.

Her head lulled to the side and slobber slipped from her mouth. She wasn't talking much anymore as my fingers continued to explore the inner recesses of her fiery cavity. And although her hands were free, she did nothing to stop me. She was tight and hot, and my fingers had to force their passage inward and once inside, were being held tight as I tried to pull back. Her hips were pumping my body up and down as she writhed on the damp mattress. I watched as her perky nipples inflated and stiffened, standing proudly atop her bouncing boobs. With my thumb, I gently but steadily circled the swollen nub of her yearning clit, driving her further towards an exciting finish. She tossed her head on the wet pillow, blonde, sweaty hair flailing like a tarnished halo. Eerie, sensuous groans escaped her throat with each pass of my hand and with the other hand, I was kneading and fondling those bodacious tits.

She was enjoying the process and yet her lithe body, glistening with sweat and trembling with a sultry desire that she couldn't control, ached for more. "Do it to me. Do it now. Fuck me hard." She was squirming and wriggling on the dank sheet. And it appeared that this was an intruder/rape fantasy that had been suppressed for far too long. Karen turned her desperate head and mouthed some inaudible urgings to assure me that this was serious and I felt her firm thighs spread from under my hips. For most of her adult life she wondered what this experience could be like. And now she had the chance and wanted to fulfill this erotic dream sequence. Her body was tingling and her pussy on fire.

My fingertips were lightly strumming the little swollen finger of flesh that protruded from its protective hood. Each touch ignited a desperate passion in her genitals. The squishy sounds from my fingers penetrating slightly inside drew her deep attention and serious concentration. I saw the ripples forming at her abdomen and heard her shallow but rapid intakes of air. Her pussy was like a rosebud about to open. My fingers spread the delicate petals of her sex and a filmy dew was on the leaf. She was slippery and hungered for it. Two fingers slipped inside of her and I heard- and felt- her gasp for breath. I discovered her sweet spot just inside her moist cavern and the tips of my digits circled and stroked the sensitive pleasure zone.