Tonight's the Night

Tonight's the Night. He watched her. The long chestnut hair, pinned to the back of her head in a thick braid. The tight-fitting blouse, which accentuated her form. Her round arse, cradled by a tight, calf-length skirt. Her pale, almost marbled, skin. If she turned, he would see her lovely elfin face, with the oak-coloured eyes and delicate nose. She seemed like a porcelain doll, fragile and perfect.

Tonight's the Night. He'd spent what seemed a lifetime watching, fantasising...and jerking off with her in his head. On a few occasions he'd scored a look at her bra, where there was a gap between the buttons of her blouse. She had pert, small breasts. The scent of her sweat aroused him, her hair sticking to the back of her neck and he imagined fucking her, skin flushed, small nipples stiff, as he slid in and out of her cunt, small hands wrapped around his cock, either in her mouth or while she slid onto it.

Tonight's the Night. He'd watched, observed, for months. Ever since he'd become aware that his casual infatuation was something more, something profound. Something which required no, demanded, action. At five o'clock she walked from work, come rain or shine, to the bus stop, even though it was some distance away. He had followed, discreetly. Learning her every move, identifying a place along the route where he could intervene.

Intervene! That was an apt description of his intentions. He had felt numb, like a spectator in his own life for so long that the meaning of his plans almost didn't register. He had to stop and speak to himself, patiently, almost as one would a child. Through intellect and persistence, he would restore meaning to his life.

He thought of his wife. Their relationship was a routine. They hardly fucked...and the last time, he'd been deliberately rough but she hadn't resisted, frustrating him.

Tonight's the Night. He followed. He was hard already. He held a zip tie ready.

Tonight's the Night. He took a final, long step, the moment stretching...he clamped his right hand over her pretty, teasing mouth, at the same time wrapping his left arm around her chest and pulling her off the path into the bushes. The hand over her mouth rendered her voiceless and he could feel her lungs struggle for air. He quickly stuffed a cloth into her mouth, remembering to leave some out so she wouldn't choke. Momentarily stunned, he was able to get the tie around her wrists and pull savagely, the motion causing her arms to move back painfully. He dragged her further under cover and lowered her to the ground. Her face was crimson with terror. He took a moment to look into those beautiful oak-coloured eyes...the same eyes that beguiled and taunted him when she laughed...but at him, not with him. She mumbled furiously, almost choking.

She looked at the ground, breaking the contact.

This is Justice. Self-realisation. You are merely the instrument. The means.

Did she understand, accept? Perhaps. He moved her coat to one side and pushed her skirt over her arse, inhaling her scent and brutally pulled her tights. They ripped and the sound seemed to shatter the air. He hooked his fingers in her panties and pulled them down to her knees. The smell of her wetness struck him almost like a physical blow...yet she struggled. He put his hands on her round, full butt cheeks and pulled them apart. She jerked at his roughness. He didn't notice as he was gazing at her butt hole...his eyes slid to her cunt. He stroked the outer labia, slightly darker than the surrounding skin. He dug his fingers into her, parting the inner lips and her wetness covered his fingers. He shook himself from his reverie and smacked her arse as hard as he could. She jerked and moaned at the blow.

You do not understand.

He liberated his cock, the head stuck to his pants with his own wetness. He stroked it up and down her smooth pussy.

This is the moment when two lifetimes become a singularity - more than they have ever been and less than nothing...

He plunged his cock into her, felt her tightness resist. She spasmed and he could feel her pussy juice, drowning his shaft. He wanted to remain there...but instinct dominated and he withdrew, admiring her wetness on his cock. He plunged in and out, needing to savour the moment but driven by desire.

She gasped and her wetness dribbled onto his balls and dripped on to his shorts. As he slid in and out, he watched her wrists rub against each other, the plastic biting into that perfect skin. He slid out and put two fingers into her cunt, relishing the subterranean warmth and wetness. As his cock re-entered her, he started to work his fingers into her butt hole. There was less resistance than he expected...Not the first time for you?

One more thrust and she yielded, her sphincter tightening around his intrusion with a shudder and moan from her gagged mouth. Through his fingertips, he could feel the pressure of his cock inside her...

He was suspended between realities...then he was shuddering, short, harsh breaths and pumping cum into her body. He stopped thrusting even after he'd stopped cumming. He remained, savouring the feeling of his cock inside her, with her wetness, heat and his own cum mingled. He roughly pulled his fingers from her butt, the hole tightening again.

He slumped onto his backside, limbs and cock limp, his breathing calming. By the dim light, he saw his cum pour out of her pussy, onto her panties. She remained there for a moment longer, as though to display herself...then dropped onto her side.

Her own breathing quieted as he gazed at her pussy, wet with pussy juice, cum, sweat...

He could feel...

He pulled up his shorts and trousers and moved to her side. He flipped her coat back. Crouching, he removed the cloth...she licked her lips...then looked at him. Her sweaty, flushed, dirty face was...serene...

She understood...