Charlene on the Street Ch. 06

Clambering out on the fire escape, Charlene felt like a kid on a jungle gym. She was trying to keep quiet, at least until she got a floor below Enrique's bedroom. But the old fire escape clattered when she put her foot on each step. She tried to hold herself up on the bars so she could step more quietly. It wasn't working but the strain of holding herself up was pushing all the goo in her vagina out and down and some was leaking between her bare legs.

She clambered down to the lowest landing and saw she had a problem: The ladder stopped ten feet from the ground. She could make it fall the rest of the way by pulling a release lever, but that would make noise and draw attention to her and everyone would see that her half-naked in her skimpy brown knit dress. The top has stretched out even more when the punk had grabbed it this morning and she was all but exposing herself up top. So, she decided to be an acrobat.

She let the coins in her hand drop and put two dollar bills in her mouth. Then she climbed down the ladder with both hands, letting her feet and legs drop free as she held on to the last rung with her hands. That got her close enough to the ground to let go. It also got her a problem. With her arms over her head and her body hanging down, the little knit dress rode up on her hips. She was flashing her butt in the alley toward the street. Even worse, if anyone was in front of her they would be able to see her dripping pussy. She already regretted being so generous with Enrique and wished she had her panties back. She just hoped nobody was watching as she let go and landed on her feet, knees bent, feet wide apart.

She landed in a half-squat, dress up around her hips. During that split second she felt a great gob of goo slide out of her, knocked loose by the fall. It messed the inside of her thighs and splattered on her feet. Oh no, she groaned inwardly. She really didn't need the distraction of having her thighs creamed where everyone on the street could see. Without her panties there was nothing to catch it. She quickly stood up, pulled her dress down, pushed the stretchy fabric between her legs to wipe up at least some of it and then started walking as if nothing had happened. The puddle of goo on the asphalt dried in the sun behind her.

Charlene glanced quickly in both directions. She wanted to know if anyone had seen her lewd display and whether there was anyone in front of her who might give her trouble. So far, so good, she thought. The alley looked empty. She figured that she would keep to alleys and back streets for a while and avoid the main street. She had driven in the area and knew her way around in a general way.

She started turned to walk down the residential street on the south side of the alley. The small houses were modest and many had cars parked on the front lawn. The neighborhood here was respectable enough but it got bad the next neighborhood over, where hookers could be seen on the street, even during the day. That meant that once she got a few blocks further she would be less conspicuous on the street than in this neighborhood. All she had to do was sneak through the neighborhood as quietly as possible.

"Hey, lady!" A loud masculine voice rang out from behind a screen door on the house opposite the alley. "What're you doing in this neighborhood?" The man clearly thought she was a hooker from further downtown. "I saw you show your cunt on that fire escape. What do you think you're doing?" The man was talking a lot louder than she wanted but he wasn't yelling.

"Yeah, I know this is a respectable neighborhood. Sorry. I kind of got trapped on ... an outcall (she improvised) and needed to get out in a hurry. I'll be moving on now."

"Not so fast," the man said, "maybe you've come around at a good time. Come on up to the porch."

Charlene did not want trouble with the neighbors and figured that she should get out of sight quickly, before she drew more attention to herself. She came up the short walk and stood on the porch in front of the screen. The man was not as tall as she was, older, well-dressed, actually well spoken now that he had lowered his voice. He didn't seem angry.

"Don't hookers use condoms anymore?" The man said, referring to the semen running down her leg. "You know it's been a long time since I've seen a girl show herself off like that. I wish I had a picture. Boy, I wish'd I'd of been closer."

Charlene wondered where this was going. She also realized that she had an urgent problem. She really had to pee. If she ducked into an alley and took the time to pee, she might be seen and would draw even more attention to herself. She might even be busted for public urination. But she really had to go!

"You could be in porn movies," he volunteered.

She decided to take a risk. "Mister, if you let me use your bathroom and give me ten dollars for taxi fare I'll let you look up my dress."

"You would?" he exclaimed with delight. "Why, I'd love that. Come on in!" He opened the screen door.

She quickly stepped inside, relieved to be out of sight, and then hesitantly looked around. The house was spare, but neat and clean. There were family pictures on top of the old-model television but no evidence of other people living there. A frame on the wall held a a military decoration and a photograph of the man in uniform when he was much younger.

"The bathroom is in the back. Would you like something to eat?" She nodded and suddenly realized that she was hungry. She walked through a hallway to the back of the small house, passing a tiny bedroom. The bed was perfectly made but there was a crumpled pillow on top and a scattering of men's magazines on it. One was left open to a picture of a young woman with enormous breasts.

She relieved herself and then used his washcloth to wipe off the streaks of goo that had dried on her inner thighs. She didn't think he would mind. The medicine cabinet was open and she noticed a bottle of Viagra. She picked it up -- it was three years old and still full. When she was finished, she walked back into the living room, where the man handed her a banana. "Sorry, that's all I have that's fit to share. I didn't go shopping this week." She thanked him.

"Where would you like to sit while I show off for you?" she asked him, wanting to get going.

"I'll just sit in my usual chair," he said, nodding in the direction of a recliner lounge chair. "Do you mind if I get comfortable?" He then surprised her by unfastening his belt, dropping his pants, and exposing himself. He sat down and held his cock in his left hand, expectantly. His body was fit but showing signs of age and his erect penis was firm but not rock hard.

Charlene pulled over an ottoman that had sat in front of another armchair and positioned it in front of him. She knelt on it, letting the stretched knit fabric of the brown dress fall away, revealing her perfect, tanned breasts. The man leaned forward and started to stroke himself. She sat back and pulled up the dress, showing him her pussy and the short line of pubic hair just above. He could see her prominent cunt lips, dusky rose in color and still engorged after her coupling just a few minutes before with Enrique. He leaned in, still stroking. He took a deep breath in.

"That smell," he said, closing his eyes. "The smell of sweat and sex." Charlene knew perfectly well that not only was her filthy dress pretty ripe but she herself was no longer fresh as a daisy, after walking in the sun and having sex.

"During the war, we were stationed in Europe," he began, dreamily. Charlene suddenly realized that he had to be much older than she had thought. "When we weren't fighting, we hung around the village. When we had money, we would go to the local whores but most of them wanted us to finish up as fast as we could. But there was one girl who would take us in the back room of an old stone house on the edge of town. She would let us do anything we wanted as long as we didn't hurt her. She didn't mind doing it twice or if we came inside her. She smelled like this." As the memories came back he stroked a little faster.

Charlene pulled her dress off over her head. The ripe smell of come and old sweat came off with the dress and what was left was the healthy, fresh sweat of her body, the now-faint odor of sex on her body, and the light odor of clean pussy, now that she had washed herself.

She sat facing him with her legs spread and slightly bent over, so her breasts hung free and even swayed a little as she moved. The gaping dress showed everything to the old veteran's hungry eyes. She took the banana and, looking him in the eyes, slowly and suggestively peeled it back. Slowly, deliberately, she bit a line around the top and with her tongue pushed a little hole into the tip. Then she wrapped her mouth around the banana and moved her head up and down, as if giving head. She played like this for a long time, eventually moving her right hand down to her crotch and playing with herself as she sucked the banana.

She thought about that village whore and the comfort she gave to a lonely and frightened soldier far from home. She imagined what it would have been like, if she had been that whore, to let herself go, knowing that in war anything could happen and there might be no tomorrow. Her lover of today might not be alive tomorrow. Her neighbors today might turn on her tomorrow when the village changed hands. All that mattered in the moment, it seemed, would be pleasure and connection between two bodies.

The old man sat transfixed, stroking himself, as she rubbed her pussy, then put a finger then two into her slit, drawing out the wetness, and then slowly moved her fingers in a circular motion over her now-visible clit. Both of them were breathing heavily now, watching each other masturbate.

Finished with her demonstration of fellatio skills, she consumed the banana, throwing the peel to the side with a flourish, and began vigorously rubbing herself while her tits swayed from side to side. She found herself incredibly aroused by her fantasy and the audacity of masturbating in front of a stranger. She felt really wet now and close to coming. He leaned forward again and took a deep breath, catching as much of her bodily fragrance as he could.

She surprised herself by coming first, a deep, rich orgasm that lasted a long time and made her drip onto the ottoman. Her eyes rolled and her breasts jiggled while she shook. The old man watched her intently, noticing how her pussy lips flushed and her toes curled. Then, as she was coming down, he came, in a long spurt that cleared the recliner chair and landed on her thigh and then on the carpet between them, followed by several dribbles that landed in his lap and on his hand. For a moment, she thought he had gone to sleep, he was so still but then he opened his eyes and said, "Thank you so much. That was wonderful."

"Well, I have to go," she said, reaching for her skimpy knit dress.

"Here is the ten dollars, as we agreed," he offered. "Just one thing before you get dressed and go. Could I possibly touch you? I know that wasn't part of the agreement."

"It would be my pleasure to be touched by youy," she said and she straddled his legs as he sat in the recliner.

He reached up and fondled her breasts gently, softly kneading them and pulling on the nipples. She liked his touch. She thought that as a young man he must have known all the moves.

"Oh my," he said with a frown. "I didn't notice that I had come on my right hand. My semen is smeared all over your tit."

"Don't worry about it," she laughed, "I've been spunked a lot worse." She shimmied into the brown knit dress.

"Good luck on your way home. Don't get arrested!" he said brightly. "And thank you. I haven't had much opportunity to have this much sexual pleasure or anything like it since my wife died. This is the most exciting day I've had in years."

"It was an honor, sir," she said, almost reluctant to leave now. "Good by, and watch out for strange women on your doorstep." Then, on impulse, she leaned over and kissed him on the top of the head.

She took the ten dollars and the two she had before in her hand and walked out the door. Her eyes darted both ways while she walked briskly to the sidewalk and in the direction of the main street, as fast as she could go without running. Over a fence she heard the children's voices and she knew that there would be big trouble if parents caught her in their neighborhood, a walking display of lewdness with her body half exposed. She knew she was getting looks from behind the windows but if she kept going she didn't think anyone would stop her.

As she walked, she thought of the old man. She thought of her own grandfather back in Arizona and wondered if anyone had thought to give him satisfaction at the end of his life. She choked back a sob while she tried to put the thought out of her mind.