Riot

(This story is a companion piece to others on this site. The character of Trish has appeared before in "Her Hottest Halloween", and "The Hills Are Alive". Her sexcapades continue once more.)

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Always on the lookout for inspiration for her sexual adventures Trish Stark was seeking a new way to push her inner boundaries. Something risky, risqué, and an adventure that would push her hard up against the wall of her Self Control.

It was a rare day that Trish ever saw television, it simply wasn't part of her life in any meaningful way, but on one of the rare occasions when she was near a T.V. she saw an amazing video for a wonderful song; Madness by the British band Muse.

It was sexy in a strange way and she filed it away knowing at some point the idea of public sex on a train platform might be possible.

What she didn't know was that within months of seeing the video she would re-create it even closer than she could imagine.

Trish was getting horny, her body itching for some hard use, her mind clawing for a way to test her will-power and push her spiritual limits. She needed an adventure. It had been weeks since she's had sex and this self-imposed celibacy was growing dull.

Incidentally Trish also absorbed the idea that a big protest was brewing in her town. It was to protest the human rights abuses going on in Russia against LGBT people. The big G20 summit was happening in Russia and the world was gearing up to make a lot of noise and try to get world leaders to discuss the abuses while in the very country doing the abusing.

Trish was in no way a political person, but even she felt what was going on in Russia was horrible and the idea of the protest garnered her attention.

Then the penny dropped.

There was going to be some heated protesting going on. People were going to be on both sides of the debate and there was bound to be some anger, and perhaps even some violence.

The video she had watched showed a couple kissing and groping during a riot and it was that visceral, human sexual response to violence that had gotten her excited about the video. Could she find a way to recreate that experience for herself?

Did she dare try and seduce a protesting man in the midst of a potentially violent encounter, with police all around.

She was Trish Stark. Of course she dared.

This challenge to her Self Control and the mastery of fear wouldn't take much planning, just a few simple props, but the event itself would be as challenging and as dangerous as anything she had yet tried. Just thinking about it made her as horny as anything she had done before.

The day of the protest, September 3, the day before the summit in Russia, finally arrived and Trish had booked the day off work, and skipped school, as had many of her colleagues.

Dressed as much like the woman from the video as she could Trish wore a black two button blazer, no shirt or bra under it, her small firm breasts peeking out from beneath the lapels as she moved. Beneath she wore a tiny, stretchy, black skirt that was shorter in the hem than the blazer. From any distance other than immediately next to her she looked nude under the jacket, and looking at herself in the mirror before she left had made her feel sexy and slippery between the legs.

On her feet she wore utterly impractical high heeled shoes. They added three inches to her five foot five height and without her years of dance training, and proficiency in martial arts she would have toppled over trying to walk in three inch heels.

To hide her identity, thus separating her regular life from the sexual adventurer she was in her spare time, she wore a long brown wig over her light blonde hair. The wig was loose and natural looking. Trish spent money on her disguises, her anonymity precious to her.

To cover her face she painted her skin to look like a little girl's doll, giving her a creepy, hyper-sexualized dolly look that was actually pretty disturbing. Trish was very good with make-up and the porcelain kewpie doll make-up was very well done, but still somewhat off-putting none-the less.

Thusly attired she made her way to the afternoon protest.

She drove there, parking a few blocks from the protest, near a subway station in case she needed a quick escape. She rode the train the two stops to the protest location outside the Russian consulate.

The train was full. Many of the other passengers were clearly headed to the protest as well, as indicated by their choice of clothes. There were a lot of men dressed in camouflage, and heavier, thicker clothes than this time of year would necessitate, and there were a plethora of backpacks with Peace signs.

The looks she got were amusing to say the least. She could see that most people were immediately drawn to her exposed skin. Her bare legs looked great, as they should, given how much work she put into looking her best physically, but her bare chest peeking from beneath the lapels of her blazer drew the most attention. Her slim build meant that any movement exposed at least one pink nipple to the eyes of someone on the train.

However as soon as they noticed her odd face, the heavy cutsie make-up obscuring her features they began to look confused.

Before anyone could approach and ask what she was doing the train arrived at the proper stop. Excited people disembarked and in the press of bodies Trish felt a few hands brush her legs and bum as men used the close quarters to press against her unnecessarily.

It got her excited having all these men touching her and looking down her jacket to see her breasts.

Everything was going perfectly.

As the crowd climbed the stairs and began to leave the subway station Trish found more space around her, and she took a good look around the street where the protest was happening.

The crowd was big, but not huge. Perhaps two thousand people, mostly young, wearing things ranging from Anonymous Masks, Ski Hats with face-masks, and gas masks, to simple t-shirts and jeans. Some protesters clearly thought things were going to get violent, yet most seemed calm and peaceful hippies.

Trish was also not the only person dressed in a costume. There were many painted faces, some Styrofoam statues of Lady Liberty, and angels and even a Gumby.

There were brightly painted signs both for and against homosexuality and freedom to marry and all the hot button topics around LGBT groups. The atmosphere was loud and excited. Everywhere she looked there were policemen dressed in riot gear.

No matter what, this was going to be an interesting day.

For the next half an hour Trish wandered amid the crowd looking at the various men there appreciatively. And they in return ogled her back.

All the political tension was building between a group of anti-gay bigots and some trouble-making young men dressed for war. They yelled back and forth and the speeches planned for today were being drowned out by the name-calling and slogans being chanted.

Relishing the challenge of distracting some of these polarized people Trish moved in and out of the milling mob getting herself seen.

There were a few men in the Warriors group that seemed very interested in her. There was more than one man in a gas mask, or balaclava who broke off chanting, or waving signs to stare at her as she strolled by.

All Trish was trying to do is get into their heads. She didn't know how she would do it, but she needed to separate a few of these guys from the herd in order to get properly fucked by them out in public. Her plan only covered being seen and then luring a few guys away and having a blast. She wanted risky public sex, not a certain arrest.

The situation, however, took a turn when some of the anit-gay bigots began to howl curses at her, calling her a slut, a Jezebel, a harlot and generally targeting her for hatred given how much she excited their poor little animal brains.

Trish was momentarily confused. She hadn't been paying any attention to the other line of protesters and now that they were targeting her she was the centre of attention.

The militant protesters began to defend her and scream back.

Then objects began getting thrown and in moments a physical altercation took place between a small group of sign waving zealots on both sides.

Trish was almost overrun as the crowds of opposing sides drew together to hurl insults, fruit, rocks and even themselves at each other. A young man of the Religious Right grabbed her arm tightly, as if he were going to make a citizen's arrest.

Instinct kicked in and Trish immediately twisted his hold into a hold of her own, and applied enough pressure that she brought him to his knees in an arm bar as she neatly stepped behind him. He howled in pain and fear drawing the attention of his friends.

Suddenly Trish was surrounded by screaming people, some of whom tried to grab her. Letting go of the first assailant Trish ducked and weaved attempting to escape the ring of people trying to contain her. Hands reached for her and tried to restrain her and she used her martial art training to bat away their attempts.

Just as she pushed past the last ineffectual clutch at her jacket, a collection of gas-mask wearing men arrived and began punching the religious protesters and driving them back and down.

One gas mask wearer stood apart, his body rigid with tension, but clearly he wanted to be involved somehow.

Trish reached for and took his hand seeing the first opportunity to cull from the herd.

Even as her heart raced, and her body heated with fear, she still held firm to her plan of getting fucked by at least one anonymous man during this protest.

Leading him away she glanced at him trying to determine as many detail about him as she could.

He was young, judging by his dress, and the little of his face she could see through the mask was all eyes, wide with fear and surprise. His skin was all covered so she assumed he had planned on getting into some kind of fight, but he hadn't, so maybe he was new to this level of militant protest.

Behind them screams were getting louder and the situation looked to be getting very intense. Voices blared on bullhorns, and the police were trying to separate the two skirmishing groups.

The protest had been staged in an open plaza and Trish dragged her companion to an alleyway that opened onto the plaza. As soon as she had any cover what-so-ever she let go of his hand and faced him squarely.

"That was intense." She said. She had to raise her voice to be heard over the yelling of the thousands strong crowd. People jogged past them, a few feet away on the sidewalk, but Trish didn't care.

The man she had pulled here bean to raise his gas mask and Trish reached out gently and stopped him.

"I want you to fuck me with that on. Right here." She unbuttoned her jacket baring her small, delectable breasts to him. She lifted his hand to one supple mound and his fingers automatically began to massage her sensitive tit.

In return Trish reached for and grabbed hold of his cock through his jeans. She massaged the length of him and felt that his prick was quite small.

A little disappointed, she mentally switched gears to accommodate having a small man and not wishing for a big cock to play with.

He lifted another hand to her chest and used both to knead her pliant orbs. Trish unzipped his pants and fumbled around trying to pull his cock out of his underwear and out through his fly. His pole was short and tiny his balls almost non-existent. She had never felt a cock quite like his.

Once she had managed to pull what there was out into the air she looked down and saw it was very pale and shriveled looking. Then it occurred to her that he was terrified.

Once more she looked into his mask and saw large white eyes staring back at her.

Yes, he was very frightened, his body was reacting to the violence and his penis was shrinking to protect itself. She smiled, indulgently. Poor guy. Was he more afraid of violence, or her?

Trish dropped to her knees before him, and opening her mouth, holding her lips slightly above his cock, she looked up to be sure she had his attention.

She did.

His huge eyes were locked on her mouth, anticipating what she was about to do.

Slowly, lovingly, she engulfed him in her warm, wet cavity and she heard his muffled groan through his mask. His penis was cool to the touch, and it took a moment for her services to overcome his fear. Yet soon enough she felt him respond to her mouth. As her tongue caressed his softness, she felt him grow warm to the touch, and then fill with blood, swelling to full length as she bathed him with her mouth.

Near-by the sounds of the crowd grew louder, and angrier, meanwhile Trish knelt in the grungy alley sucking this stranger's cock, thrilled to be doing exactly what she had hoped to be.

Trish never tired of having a hard cock fill her mouth, and the danger and exposure of this scenario had her pussy thrumming with desire.

Now that he was hard Trish ran her contented mouth up and down his length, tasting every part of his erection. It turned out he was plenty big, larger than average by a bit and as his balls returned from their hiding place up in his body she saw a hefty pair that had her anticipating a tasty load of cum.

Stroking his shaft with her hand while massaging his sack with her other hand Trish licked his knob and ran her lips over the bulb of his tip teasing him with multiple sensations.

Trish had learned from experience that it was far better to get men off quickly in these risky situations. She found it far more satisfying to have them cum quickly than hazard being interrupted and neither of them getting off.

Working him over with that in mind she ran her mouth all along the length off his pole swallowing him deeply, before pulling back and licking his head. She put everything she had into bringing him to climax as quickly as she could. When his hips began to move, driving him in and out of her delicious grip she knew it wouldn't be long before she tasted his spunk.

Letting her hand fall from his balls she began to play with her tingling clit and she shuddered as she touched the responsive little nub of flesh.

In the spirit of challenge; the game of self-control, Trish decided that she would not cum this encounter. She had pulled this guy far more easily than she had anticipated, and she wanted to try for another to make it more demanding.

And after a few moments of blowing him, when she knew he was close to cumming, she chose to make it one step harder by having him cum on her face. Having a load of sperm on her features would make her less appealing to any other dudes looking to fuck her, and that impediment made her even wetter.

Trish absolutely loved having a hot, wet load of cum on her face. More than tasting it, or feeling it fill her snatch, Trish loved the oozing weight of a man's seed dripping down her skin. It had been like this for as long as she could remember, and she had never seen a reason to deny herself that thrill when so many men seemed preferred it on some level.

Thus as her random lover began to buck and shudder with his approaching climax she focused on his tip, urging to climax while preparing to pull him from her mouth and aim his ejaculation over her face.

When he finally unleashed his jism Trish felt the first spurt land on her tongue and began to breathe heavier with the first tingles of her own orgasm. Pulling him from her oral grip she held him over her open mouth and stroked his shaft.

Sympathetic tremors quaked her lithe frame as his seed pulsed from his knob and out over her face. Pumping him and licking his tip Trish prolonged his pleasure for as long as he was willing to receive her attention. His climax went on and on as he spent himself over her lips, chin and up over her forehead.

Joyfully accepting his gift Trish had a series of tiny orgasms that made her smile as his cum rained down over her. She never tired of feeling the hot splash of sperm glazing her skin with sticky love.

Before she could begin to suck him off again, to retain his erection for further fun the tone of the crowds yelling grew more tense. It seemed to shift from anger toward fear.

Looking out of the alley toward the protest Trish saw riot police with shields pushing the two factions apart. She saw truncheons being used and people falling to the ground beneath the swinging weapons.

This was now a full scale riot.

"Holy shit!" Her lover exclaimed, and began tucking himself back into his pants. "We have to get out of here."

"Yes." Trish said dreamily, not at all caring whether he heard her. The next phase of her plan became clear. She was going right into the fray to see if anyone would play with her. This was so similar to the video that had inspired her that she simply had to take the opportunity to try and recreate it.

She was going to try and draw the rioters down into the subways tunnels.

She stood, leaving her jacket open, the lapels parting to expose her toned belly and flash her bare breasts whenever she moved. Licking her sunk stained lips and tasting delicious cum she shuddered with the desire for more.

Trish felt hypnotized with passion. The lure to give herself to the crowd of men scuffling nearby both frightened and thrilled her.

Wandering off, not looking to see what became of her lover Trish wove her way through the people fleeing the riot into the thick of the maelstrom.

Randomly men broke off fighting around her, and when they did many were momentarily distracted by her blatant sexual offer. Yet the efficient police were driving a wedge between the opponents and forcing combatants to the ground.

Tear gas was fired into the thickest part of the fray blanketing the battle in thick chemical smoke that burned the tear ducts, throat and nasal passages of those without breathing gear.

Trish stopped her approach when she saw that, and looked to see if anyone was running toward the subway station.

Many were fleeing that way, so she circled around the surging mob and made her way over to the stairs leading down.

She wasn't close to the tear gas, but she could feel its burn, and she felt tears run down her face, mixing with the sperm already there.

Most protesters who weren't here for violent action had fled already, so Trish found herself one of very few people without some form of protection from harm. Because of this she picked her way cautiously through the riot, avoiding conflict, looking for others not directly involved in a skirmish.

She saw many but few noticed her sexuality. They were scanning for threats, which she was not. Some few of them noticed her naked chest, but it didn't seem to register what they were seeing.

Finally she made her way to the stairs down into the subway system and she jogged down the stairs as fast as her high heels would allow.

Down below there were fewer screams and less hubbub, but what noise there was echoed loudly in the enclosed space.

Trish walked along the platform as men ran past her, some seeking escape, some seeking enemies.

Positioning herself next to a thick tile covered support column Trish scanned the crowd for a likely sexual partner. Behaving as if she were in a bar looking to hook up Trish casually stood with her back to the wall, one foot pressed to the pillar, her hands roaming her belly, thighs and squeezing her bare tits occasionally as she offered herself to the rioters.

As man after man passed her by without stopping, Trish knew she would have to be more aggressive. She reached for the sleeve of a passing man in an anonymous Guy Fawkes' mask and tried to stop him. He ignored her and shrugged off her grasp.

Next she called out to a passing man, but he only glanced at her confused.