Starved

As I finally make it out of the mall and back onto Main Street, a sense of relief overwhelms me, to my own surprise. I have been out of town for the last two weeks, returned just this morning, and immediately went out to resupply the fridge. Now it is done, I have a plan for dinner, it is Saturday, and I have nothing particular to do in the afternoon. Only at this moment I realize how tense and upbeat I actually was until now.

It has been a stressful two weeks. I just started in a new job, my first real one after graduating three months ago. One week of internal workshop at a countryside resort. Then another week touring the state on customer visits. Days fully booked with meetings, tours, dinners and networking, mostly extending long into the evenings. For the last week I have been crashing a new hotel bed every night, only to wake up for early breakfast, and a briefing on the next customer while driving along the highway. Literally no time to myself. I totally need to unwind now, before next Monday makes its appearance.

In a conscious effort I take my pace down, strolling leisurely along Main Street, shopping bag over my shoulder. It is early summer, a little heatwave has come over the state, with temperatures in the early nineties. I am wearing my peach-colored summer dress, its loose airy fit is perfect in this heat. The other people on the street are also struggling to cope. I am surrounded by shorts, t-shirts and tank tops, bare arms, legs, shoulders and bellys. The few businessmen in suits try to appear indifferent, while the sweat pours down under their nice white shirts.

A young guy turns a corner to walk a few meters in front of me. He is wearing a white t-shirt, also a loose fit, yet his shoulders are broad enough to make their presence apparent. Damn good shoulders. My gaze slides down his back, to meet his denim shorts, which fit tighter. Damn good ass. I notice a slight, sweet, bubbling sensation in my stomach. It is true, I have not had anything at all during the last two weeks. Not with others, not with myself. Totally starved. This is typical. I can easily shut it down when there are too many other things to think about. But when the stress is relieved, the itch comes back, takes control, and I end up being unable to think about anything else. It is happening now, I can feel it growing on me by the second. Luckily he turns again, going into the park. I continue down Main Street, making an effort to keep my eyes focused straight ahead.

He has rolled a blanket out on the grass to lie down in the sun, hands folded behind his neck. I have been standing out of sight in the shadows of the thick vegetation, but now I step forward, and walk over to him. He gives me a quick look of surprise as I sit down, straddling his legs, the fabric of my dress settling around me like a little tent.

"Erm, do we know each other?"

"Do we have to?" I give him a little smile, and a blink as I say it.

"You don't mean to..?" He fails to end the sentence.

"I very much mean to! Are you up for it, hunky boy?"

He frowns for a few moments, little wheels spinning in his head. Then his face relaxes and smiles back at me. He takes his hands down under the dress-tent, unbuttons his pants, gets his dick free, and holds it vertical with his fingers. His movements are calm, unremarkable, there are other people in the park. An elderly couple is sitting on a bench besides the lawn. A young mother is trying to entertain her little daughter on the grass, a bit away from us. Their little cries and giggles puncture the dull calmness of the early afternoon.

I carefully adjust my position until I hover right over his rod, its broad mushroom tingling against my clit. After circling it for a little while, I begin to lower myself over it, letting him into me slowly, inch by sweet inch. My g-string is dragged along, its front triangle slides down so the silk rubs my clit, oh yeahh it is good! When I finally have him all the way in, I begin to rock gently back and forth, left and right, trying to keep my upper body still, so as not to reveal what is going on under the dress. He too attempts to appear calm, indifferent, his hands now back under his neck.

"Are you from this town?" he asks me.

"Maybe I am, maybe I ain't. What matters is, I am right here, right now." Just because we are screwing it doesn't mean he has to know about me.

"Do you come here often?"

I give him a little smile. "If I come now it will be the first time in this place."

I lift myself up a bit, then slide gently down again, setting fresh waves of sweetness in motion. At the same time I look around me. The two old people are looking in our direction. What do they see? Do I want them to know what is going on? He rocks gently against me, tinges of sweet pleasure shooting into my body.

"Not much of a talker, are you?" he says.

"I think I made myself understood alright!"

"Might as well chat my friends, then." He pulls out a phone. I lean over, smiling, to wave it away. It gives me a chance to make some larger movements of my underbelly. A bubble of lust is growing steadily in there.

"Ah-ah! No movies!" He duly puts the phone away.

"Wouldn't be a very interesting movie, would it?"

It is true. I am fully dressed. When I am done using him, I will get up and disappear, as quietly as I came. I move back into my upright position, making sure to push myself hard down over him. The bubble swells inside me. It won't be long now. He is close, I can feel it. And I am close too. Can we keep our straight faces when it comes? The old couple are staring constantly at us now. The young mother is also looking, suddenly frozen, a surprised look forming on her face. His body jerks under me. The bubble begins to burst, its contents blasting into my body, OMG, here I come..

The screaming of the brakes, and the droning sound of the horn jolts my body and makes me stop dead. I'm like six feet into the zebra crossing even though the light is red. The craftman's van has come to a halt less than a yard away. Its driver, a young redhead with close-cropped beard leans out of the window, rolling his eyes. A muscular forearm waves towards the light. "Red. Man. Stand!". He speaks overly slow and clear, as if I was a little child. I mumble or mime my excuses as I backtrack onto the pavement. He revs the engine, disappears down the road. I stand back at the kerb, the trembling shock lingering in my body. What the fuck was I thinking? That could have ended up real bad. The light changes to green, I cross the road. Gotta focus now, so that I can make it safely to the drugstore a bit further down Main Street.

The car drives out of town. I sit eerily in the passenger's seat. I shouldn't have gotten in. But the firmness in his voice did not leave any room for discussion. And the accident was my fault, no doubt about that. I see the muscles playing in his forearm as he shifts down the gear, turning the car into the empty rest area. He shuts off the engine, looks me in the eye.

"We can settle it with a spanking here and now. Or we can call the cops and insurance. What would you prefer?"

I don't answer him, but my breathing gets heavier, and I guess that's a kind of answer as well. I open the door and get out, making an abrupt, impatient gesture with my head. He also gets out. There is a dark-green table-and-bench set. He sits down on the edge of one bench, his legs slightly spread out. A nervous excitement sucks deeply into my belly. I am going to get spanked, right here, right now! I lie down over his legs, and pull up my dress. For good measure I also pull down the g-string, even though it wouldn't have made a difference anyway. I lean forward, set my flat palms on the ground for support, while resting on the tips of my sandals in the other end. Adjust my position so that my rounded white buttocks become the highest point, strutting invitingly towards his hand.

He puts one hand and forearm over my waist, firmly securing my position. Oddly, it gives a sort of warm flowing sensation through my body. Then he begins to spank me. Firm rythmic slaps, three at a time on each buttock. A stinging pain on the skin, with a warm, burning sensation spreading underneath. I absorb it without whimping, but my breath gets heavier. After a while he stops, resting his hand for a moment. Then it resumes, faster if not firmer, the pain builds up, now it really stings and burns! I cannot help letting out small squeals and twist my body under his firm grip. Towards the end I even begin to kick my legs, he has to stop a couple of times to get them out of the way.

When it is finally over I lie still for a few seconds regaining my breath, then get up on uncertain feet. My butt burns brightly, and my whole body is shaking with the adrenaline rushing through it. Now I must pull up the g-string, get into the van, let him drive me back into town. That is what I must do. But I don't. Instead, I step out of the string, so that I can spread my legs properly, and lean over the table. There is no need for words. He hesitates for a few seconds, then I hear the sound of his zipper opening. And then I feel him. He is big, fills me out well. His hands grab me by the hips, and he begins to take me, slowly, with authority. I work against his movements, making sure that each thrust goes all the way, rocking up and down to make the most of him. The contrast between the sweet waves of pleasure spreading into my body, and the prickling, burning sensation that lingers in my buttocks is wild, a total sensory overload that drowns out my conscious thoughts, opening the door to deep, strong forces of nature. My breath is quick and deep now, I rest heavily on my elbows, my head hanging just a few inches over the table. Its dark-green paint is peeling off in big flakes, it blurs to a lighter green as the orgasm dissolves me...

"Oh my GOOOD Megan, is that YOU?"

I look up in surprise, to see Shawn's sprawling red curls coming towards me. A moment later I am enveloped by her arms and body. When we are done hugging, se holds me out in straight arms, looking inquisitively at me.

"So what have you been up to these last weeks?"

"Started that new job I told you about. Total stress. Didn't even have time to text you. Sorry!"

"No worries sweetie, but we should find out something soon."

"Sure thing. How about next week? I don't think I can do anything this weekend, just landed in the morning!"

"Suits me fine. I am quite busy the next couple of days. What are you up to now?"

"Just going to the drugstore, and then home to crash." I look around, confused, realize that the drugstore is actually behind me. That self-righteous prick made me walk straight past. Shawn laughs, and points.

"Maybe you haven't quite landed yet?" Then she lowers her voice, intimately.

"I also gotta get home now. So that I can SCREW Dave properly before he goes to the game."

I put my head closer to hers.

"Watcha gonna do?"

"Doggy!" Her voice is an intense whisper. "And then a long hard ride. If he comes too early I'm gonna jump his face and rub it into him!"

We briefly touch our goodbyes, she turns and strides away, confident, determined. I watch her, shaking my head and smiling. Shawn is somewhat overweight, and packs very strong erotic desires. She has finally found a guy who is both willing and able, and now she is spinning totally out of control.

I enter the drug store, just need some shampoo and hand cream. On a whim, I also pick a tube of lubricant. I can use it for the sore spot on the inside of my thigh, which has begun to get irritated when I ride my bike. Well, that's one of the possibilities, at least. I queue up to pay. The young guy at the counter is cute, slim and with blond curls coming down over his forehead. He gives me a discreet, knowing smile as he scans the lubricant, and I blush a little, several middle-aged ladies are queued behind me. I pay up, and hurry out of the shop.

It feels silly to stand waiting at the park entrance, but it was the only suggestion I could come up with while paying. Just as I decide to give it up, I see him coming towards me. He tells me that his break only lasts for 20 minutes. I grab his wrist, and leads him into the little dense patch of trees and bushes just inside the entrance. The light is dim in here, with sunbeams coming through the leaves to form spots and stripes on the ground. I put the tube of lubricant into his hand, smiling.

"Lubricant, my ass!" Then I turn my back to him, kneel on the soft ground, lift up my skirt, and lean forward to rest on my hands. A moment later I feel how he moves the g-string to the side, and slides a creamy finger up into my ass. It immediately sends sweet shivers through me, and I reach one of my hands down to start rubbing myself. His finger works inside me, pulls out, returns to grease me further. I am working myself up, harder, deeper, this is so good! His finger pulls out again, this time to be replaced by something bigger. It's a perfect fit, and I feel wonderfully naughty and dirty taking this cute stranger up my greasy ass. In a few minutes I will walk away with his warm sperm soaking my g-string and slowly oozing down the inside of my thighs. The thought sends a new shudder of lust and excitement through my body, and I reach my other arm down, to greedily rub myself with both hands. I rest directly on head and shoulders now, my movements rubbing my face in the dirt, I hardly notice it because there are so many sweet spots to take care of. The orgasm arrives suddenly, deep, intense, protracted, my spasms so heavy that they force him to come along with me. His grunt is abrupt, staccato, as if the swift culmination takes him aback...

"Ouh!" Although the collision is soft it comes as a shock, and I stumble a step backwards. I look up, bewildered, we must have reached the corner at the exact same time. Probably none of us had a chance to see the other, yet I still feel guilty, for being lost in my silly fantasies. I take a second look at her. She is a hijab girl, around 20 as far as I can tell. The scarf frames an oval brown face with thick broad lips and deep black eyes. I have always thought that the scarves make those girls extra attractive, seductively mysterious. Now the thought somehow makes me feel awkward.

"Erh.. I am sorry, I was completely lost in my own thoughts!"

She smiles broadly at me, her teeth perfectly white and symmetric beneath those lips.

"No problem, I should also look where I am going!" There is something intimate about her smile, even naughty, or maybe it is just my imagination.

"Have a lovely day!" she says, and continues down the street. She is wearing a kind of long dress, whatever it is called. I guess it is meant to be decent. But the fit is just tight enough to reveal all of her nifty curves. And she knows it. Walks with a clear conscious awareness of her hips and their movement. I stare after her until she turns the next corner. Then I turn around myself, to get an orientation. I have ended up in the complex of low concrete apartment blocks, our little Middle East. Not exactly as intended. Luckily, I know my way around here, from those days with Hassan and Mahdi - oh yeah, those boys packed some juice! With a fleeting smile on my lips I start out towards the little footpath that will take me back onto Main Street in the right direction.

As she punches the code, and opens the door to the stairway, she turns towards me, gives me that smile again, and makes an inviting gesture with her head. I don't know why I followed her, but then again, I do know it, and she knows it too. We go up the stairs side by side. "I still live with my parents." she says. "I am not allowed to have boys visiting, but it is OK with girls. And girls are the best, anyway!" She squeezes my hand, and I don't really know what to say.

"Hellooo!" she cries out immediately as she opens the door and enters the apartment. I make sure to kick off my sandals right away, while she goes further in, calling out again a couple of times. Then she returns to me, I am still standing indecisively in the entrance.

"We are home alone!" she says with a smirky smile. "So we won't have to be quiet!"

She grabs me gently by the wrist, and leads me into her room. It has a scented smell, lavender. I notice how she shuts the door and turns the key in a single, smooth, routine movement. Then she goes to the window and draws the blinds, leaving the room in a soft, dusky light. And then she turns again, to face me.

I am standing motionless in the middle of the room. My whole body is sizzling. I know what we are going to do, but not how. Haven't tried it this way before. She tilts her head, and look me into the eyes, still smiling. I get a feeling that she is looking right through me, to see my nervous, excited anxiety. Then she reach out her arms and softly puts her hands on my shoulders. It immediately makes me relax, even as she continues to push the straps of my dress aside, so that it falls to the floor in a circle around my feet. Underneath I am only wearing string and bra. Her fingertips gently slide down my spine. A tickling sensation on the skin, and deeply into my body. She opens the bra, removes it, and takes in the sight of my breasts. She leans forward, putting her lips around my right nipple, while sliding her hands down onto my hips, and my excitement grows. She takes the g-string between two fingers on each side, and rolls it down, kneeling deeply. Then she gets up again, and takes a step back to watch me.

I am standing totally naked before her, while she is still covered from head to toe. It is a strange, and somehow incredibly exciting situation. I am still paralyzed, what am I supposed to do now? She loosens the hijab, takes it off, lets her hair fall down freely. It is long and dark, with subtle waves. I realize that I have been totally wrong. She is much more beautiful without the scarf.

She begins to undress herself before me, slowly, playfully. I can see that she enjoys putting on a show, revealing the delicious secrets of her body piece by piece. When she is finally undressed, she stretches her arms above her head, and does a full tiptoe turn, like a ballet dancer, so that I can admire all aspects of her beauty. The firm orange-sized breasts, the elegant curve of her spine, the impressive arcs of her bottom under the slim waist. Her kitty is clean-shaven, except for a thin, sharply trimmed stripe over the venus delta. It doesn't matter much to me, yet it turns me on a bit more that she has cared for this particular detail.

Without any word or sign we begin to draw closer. Our hands reach out to explore each others bodies, first gently, then firmly. Her lips are soft, warm, and wet against mine. Our tongues come out to play. My body is ringing with lust. As we press up against each other, her slight trembling reveals that she too is very excited.

We never make it to her bed. The rug is thick and soft. I end up on top of her, my hands under her buttocks, my head between her legs, diving down to taste her juicy fig. Her head is also between my legs, she pulls me down, starts working with tongue and fingers, OMG she knows her stuff. It is as if we fall into each other, each of us intensely aware of the others sounds, movements, reactions. Even our panting and moaning is synchronously unison. Lust flows freely between us, sweat breaks out on our bodies, making them salty and slippery. I can feel an orgasm coming on, mine but also hers, they have to synchronize, otherwise the seismics would tear us apart. The orgasms are at most the end of the beginning. We tumble onwards through turbulent desire, orgasms come and go, none of us would know how to stop this anymore. Her moaning becomes deeper, louder, turns into a howl, and then a roar, almost like a bull...

A bull! Yes, there is a friggin' bull! And it's roaring. In the grassy meadow, behind the electric fence. Goddammit, I have trodden all the way out of town. Blast those immigrants! I turn on my heel to see the roadside sign at the city limit. Two miles to home from here, or what? I stand confused, wavering for a moment, then I pull myself together. Nothing to do but focusing, and putting one foot in front of the other. I cannot mess around out here for too long. Kevin, my new boyfriend, is supposed to come over in the afternoon. Actually, he might already be there, he can let himself in with the spare key I gave to him just before I left.