Tag you're IT

Some out of shock. Some out of jealousy. Glass and I had done the impossible, after all. The envy level was going to be huge.

The grass was still wet. The guards seemed to be walking slower than ever and we had to wait an eternity for them to go past. Inch by slow inch we belly crawled; we were simply two low, never seeming to move, tuffs of grass. When I saw at last that dark, round circle in front of me my heart jumped into my throat. We had done it! We had done it and gotten away with it!

Down the metal rungs and then back up, once we were both inside, we worked together and slide the heavy cover back into place. I winced at the metal on concrete sound it made, to me a thunderclap. But there was no outcry from the guards. With a sigh, I followed Glass down till my feet and ankles were in the cold water again.

I was violently slammed back into the concrete!

For a half-second I was sure the guards had come here to wait for us. Then I was being kissed. No simple peck on the lips, or even welcoming tongue tussle, no this was an assault of lips. Then a slim, feminine hand was down the front of my pants and my cock was being gripped in tight fingers.

"Glass!" I mumbled past her lips.

"I said I would fuck you, lets fuck." Her hand worked, with a painful level of pressure for a moment longer, then it was pulled back out my pants and she went to work on my jeans, opening them. Pulling them down from my hips, yanking at my underwear and-despite my protests-taking hold of my cock again. Then her other hand found mine in the dark and took it under her shirt and placed it onto her breast. Her nipple was hard as a pebble in my palm.

"Glass, we can't do this here. We've got to get out of here!"

"Here or nowhere, NYX." Her warm hand was doing delightful things I wished that I could see. "I would suggest you get this pussy while it's hot. Cause this offer is no good once we leave here." Her mouth went to work on the side of my neck, a gnawing that I could feel was going to leave marks for sure.

With the absolute assurance that by now our art work had already been seen, that there were soon going to be people moving to catch the "paint happy bastards" responsible for defacing Air Force One, I began to respond to what was being done to me. The whole night had been so surreal that to have a woman wanting to have sex while standing ankle deep in a cold creek, in the pitch blackness, in a tunnel under an airport didn't even really seem unusual.

"Okay," was all I said, as I began to roll her nipple between my fingers. Feeling the little raised bumps around the base, then the softness of her breast as I cupped her tit.

Glass began to laugh. "I thought you would see it my way. Here" She turned me loose and handed me her ghillie and then her backpack. "Hang those on the ladder rungs. And this."

This ... was her shirt. The cloth warm and smelling of her and paint when it hit me in the face. I was trying to comply when I felt her hands on my stomach, then hunting lower till they were both wrapped around my cock. Then I had only a second to recognize the hot sensation was breath before I felt her tongue.

"Holy shit!"

She, more or less, pushed me till my back was against the wall; her forehead against my stomach directing me. I clung to the metal ladder as the mouth on my cock went to work with an insane fury of super-fast bobs of her head. Her lips delightfully rippling pressures around me, with her tongue like a mad thing attacking the skin passing over it. Then her mouth was off me and I winced as she sucked one of my balls into her mouth. The pressure was painful but the feeling of that tongue lashing the delicate skin was awesome.

Her hand cupped both my balls and then her mouth was back on my cock for a moment. But a moment only. My head hit the concrete behind me when her mouth returned to kissing me. Violently kissing me, her teeth as much involved as her lips.

"Fuck me," she ordered.

"Ah, How?" I asked, not sure what we could do without laying down in the creek, and that I was not about to do. A leach on my ankle or leg I might risk for tonight's graffiti gain, but not even sex was worth one getting anywhere near my dick and balls. Plus the water was cold and nasty.

Glass moved me with one hand on my arm and the other on my cock. She led me around in a half-circle then I felt her standing in front of me. When she bent forwards I understood she was facing away from me. I cursed this darkness, wanting to see the woman I was getting ready to fuck. Then her ass cheeks were enwrapped against my cock and she was pushing back against me.

"Put it in me."

Placing a hand on her ass, I followed the curve of her hip down those soft cheeks to my cock. I nosed the tip down, felt a divot and moved to push. She moved forwards.

"That's my ass. A bit lower down."

When she backed up again, I moved the head even lower and felt wet heat. I gave a push and she pushed back and I slid into her pussy like ice on glass. She was soaking wet, and that may have been the only reason I managed to get inside her. She was so incredibly tight around me by the time I got to the point my belly was on her ass I wanted to never pull back out. But then, as I have already seen, I was not in charge of this quickie in the dark. Glass began to pop her butt back onto me, fucking the length of my cock into her tightness. Using my cock to fill and empty herself, masturbating with me along for the ride.

No, I don't think so. I caught her bare hips and slammed my dick into her as hard as I could push.

"Ahh! Yes, just like that. Come on, fuck me. Fuck me hard, NYX. I want it." She met my next thrust and we smacked together with an audible slap of skin on skin. "More, give me more."

With my dick already balls deep I didn't really have more to give, but I did have lust. Plenty of it. Over and over I ran into her body, loving the feeling of wet warmth, cursing the darkness which kept me from seeing her, fucking her harder with every thrusting push. Unable to see, I began to work with sound. I tried to make her louder and louder. To make Glass scream out as I moved into her to the point I bottomed out. My stomach and pubic hair smashing into her outer lips.

Her guttural cries were echoing in the tunnel and I was sure we were doing nothing but announcing where we were to all for miles around. But at that moment I didn't care. I was in bliss and riding an emotional high that was too great to stop. A surfer on his board, catching too big a wave to ride but now too deep into it to turn away. Nothing for it but to hang on and hope it worked out alright.

Nope, not a chance. We were both going to jail before the dawn. But so what? We had done the impossible Tag and were fucking to celebrate. How much better can life get?

Even as I felt the warmth of her hips under my hands, I knew that I would never get to fuck this woman again. This was not the beginnings of a wild, star-crossed romance. I might like the idea of Glass as a permanent fixture in my life-helping me to get out of my shell and do wilder things as it were-but to her I was surely nothing more than a one and done. A bit of cock in the dark, to be enjoyed for the moment, while the rush of what she had accomplished was still there. While she was still turned on by the "high" of adrenaline and paint fumes.

Moving my hand up her back I caught her hair and she arched up, giving me a tad more of her pussy to plumb.

"My ass. You wanted in there to begin with, put it there now. Make me hurt."

What? Holy shit, did she just say that or did I imagine it?

"Now, NYX. I'm so close. Do it! I need more," she begged me. Glass pulled forward till I popped out her pussy. "Please?"

Standing in the inky blackness of this tunnel-I was panting for every breath, my shirt was plastered to my back with sweat, my legs were cramping and my feet were freezing cold and soaked to the calf-I thought "What a perfect time to experience anal sex for the first time," even as I repositioned the head between her ass cheeks. I found again the divot from earlier. My first push was resisted but then, with a deep moan from her, Glass pushed back and I pushed in.

"OH ... FUCK!" We both moaned in perfect harmony, me from the pleasure of it, her from possibly pain and pleasure. I almost stopped when I heard a whimper from her, but then she slid forwards an inch and slammed her ass back onto me.

My hands finding both of her hip bones, I clung to her, determined not to be dislodged from this tight warmth till I filled her with cum. I was no longer concerned with getting caught. I had long ago accepted that was going to be my fate. I wanted only to orgasm, in this talented, insane, shaker-can artist's ass, this once before going to federal prison.

And the harder she rammed her butt back onto me the closer that moment came. The more of my cock that went into her the more she would cry out, the harder she would push back and the harder I would pull her into me. I felt like I was hung in that perfect moment. A time when all that existed in the world was this woman I was fucking. Her and me and no place or time outside this darkness. A lotus-eater trap that was closing in around me that I had no desire to leave because the bait was too tempting.

That was probably closer to the truth.

A truth given form when above us came the sounds of voices and brilliant shafts of light as flashlights were directed onto the manhole cover. In that light I saw her moving to grab her shirt and gear, even as I slipped free and sprayed her bare backside with cum.

"NYX!" she said reaching behind her to touch the wetness even as we stated to run. "Why the hell did you not cum in me? Oh god, it's all over the small of my back!"

Behind us we could hear the manhole cover being removed and there was a solid blazing bar of light forming from all the flashlights being shined down into the tunnel.

"We're about to go to jail and you're bitching about that?" I asked, taking her gear from her so she could run faster.

"Well, if we get arrested you'll learn exactly what the hell I'm bitching about," she said with a laugh as she pulled on her shirt.

"Nice," I muttered as I ran faster myself.

With water sloshing up to mid-thigh, we plunged down out the length of that midnight black tunnel. Behind us we heard calls to stop, but they were far back. Shafts of light tried to pierce the darkness to hit us but we were too far down the creek by then and the inky blackness swallowed their flashlights. First one, then two and then that last manhole vanished behind us and the end of the tunnel appeared. The sunrise was still a good bit off but, compared to the darkness we were in, the early morning predawn light was enough to turn the end of the tunnel into a visible square.

Behind us the sounds of pursuit were growing closer.

I knew there would be police, Secret Service, Marines, hell fucking attack helicopters ... you name it, I was expecting it to be waiting for us at the end of that tunnel but there was only my old brown Ford Pinto. Sitting right where I parked it. We rushed to it, threw our stuff into the seats behind us, and I pulled out with me driving in a way that would have landed me a spot on next season's NightRider.

That first mile and I was a shaking nervous wreck, expecting at any moment that blaze of blue lights, the banshee howl of sirens. My knuckles were bone white gripping the wheel.

Then the second mile and the third and the fourth vanished under us. I took odd turns following a planned out, but not consciously remembered, course of escape.

"Oh, fuck!"

Her voice next to me, all breathless, sent my eyes to all the mirrors first ... nothing? Then, when I looked over at her, my jaw dropped open. Glass was masturbating in the seat next to me! She saw my shocked expression and shrugged.

"I didn't get to cum," was her only explanation as she frantically kept fingering herself. Her wet, black pants we open and her panties, pink I noted, were pushed down to show a thick thatch of pubic hair under her moving hand. "You better what where you're going, NYX. You wreck us before I cum and I'll kill you. I swear to god."

The drive from there to the Waffle House parking lot, where we had left her car, was a long one it was filled with deep moans from her open mouth and a wet squishy sound from her crotch. No matter how much I wanted to not look my eyes kept getting dawn back to her. I watched Glass lifted her hips enough to slide those wet pants down to her knees, and then she reached down and eased the seat back while opened her legs.

When her legs parted and she drove fingers into herself I nearly did wreck the car!

"NYX!"

My dick was hard, I was shaking, and I felt mentally exhausted from too much stress by the time we pulled up into that parking lot and I parked next to her old battered Postal Services jeep.

"Give me your hand. I need some help, please," she told me grabbing my wrist. "Feel how wet my pussy is."

After the night I had just lived through to sit watching the sunrise with my finger buried in a warm, pudding-wet, woman's pussy-while sitting plain as hell to see in a Waffle house parking lot-was, well almost normal. Maybe not normal for me, but normal for someone somewhere.

Absently, I used my other hand to reach under her shirt and cup her breast. She nodded, pushed her damp, black t-shirt out the way, showing me pale pink nipples and then began to moan my name ... my tag name ... over and over till she threw back her head and shivered. Her mouth, half-hidden in that sea of black shoe polish, quivered. She took several small gasping breaths as wave after wave of pleasure rolled upwards from her clit to steal her breathless. Her eyelids fluttered between open and closed till, with a purring rumble from her throat, her eyes closed and she squirmed her ass on the seat.

Panting for air-several minutes later-Glass, sat up fixed her shirt and then pulled up her pants. Adjusted the car seat, smiled at me, and then before I could stop her pushed two wet fingers into my mouth!

"Bye, NYX! Had an awesome night."

And then she was out the car and gone. Her little boxy jeep puttering off into the dawn, leaving me there with my mouth simply swimming with the taste of her pussy and a hard on that would have cut ... glass. I was in a complete state of shock. Mental, physical, emotional shock.

I cleaned off my face paint, and went inside and had coffee and waffles. Seemed the thing to do at the time.

XX * XX * XX * XX

Pulling my black Explorer into the parking lot of my office building, I sat there thinking. Thinking back to that morning, decades ago, when I had stuffed my face with sticky waffles watching the local morning news, expecting at any moment for the story to break. For the pictures of Glass's and my own Tags to start appearing. But all the news gave me that long ago morning had been local weather, sports and traffic reports.

As I looked at the glass and steel structure in front of me, I mused on the fact that we had managed the impossible she and I, but no one knew it. It never made the headlines. Never became the latest Fire-of-the-Moment news story. The government probably pressure washed my art off the bottom of the plane before any photos were ever taken. Least ways any that didn't end up in an FBI file somewhere.

I never tagged ~NYX~ again. And I never saw Glass again. And as much as I wanted to brag to my artist friends why would they believe me? Where was the proof? My famous moment as a tagger, had probably become an odd colored stain on an airport tarmac.

Hell, I didn't even get a t-shirt that said "I tagged the Presidents plane and all got was this lousy shirt."

Getting my briefcase out the back seat, I opened the door and headed into my normal nine-to-five grind. Where I would spend the whole day thinking of doing something really crazy tonight. Something with paint. Maybe something even worthly of a t-shirt. But no, in the end I went home. Home to my ultra-modern home, my beautiful Stepford wife, my perfectly manicured lawn and my two point five children, because in the end Glass-psycho crazy as she was-had been absolutely right.

You only live once.