Twilight

By the time Alana was nineteen years of age...she...loved...sex...

She'd had a few years of doing it illegally, without anyone caring or noticing. But once she was legal, everybody seemed to notice Alana.

Some people noticed because a girl with Alana's good looks was hard to miss. She had shining black hair cut straight to her curved shoulders. And she had grey eyes to die for. Alana was all legs and curved in all the right places. Men, and women, stopped to notice Alana.

Some people noticed Alana simply because she was now legal, a woman grown, so to speak. And that made her 'prey', part of the ever growing meat market on the mean streets of the steel and cement jungles of the city.

Alana, personally, did not care who noticed for what reason.

It was enough to her that they noticed.

For awhile, when she had been young, she'd had a preference for older men. That lasted for oh, about a year. Then she experimented with boys her own immature age. But their egos were younger still, and that didn't last long.

By the time Alana was comfortable with her new status as a young adult and single female, the buxom babe knew exactly what she wanted in a man.

She wanted experience.

And she knew how to get it.

Alana would wait until the sun began to set. Not daylight hours. But not the dark. Just...twilight.

It was how she liked her men, in their twilight years.

Not young boys. Not old geezers.

Men of experience.

Alana would go to the right places to meet her men, too. Not the clubs, where the men pranced around more for the sake of each other than for the girls watching. And not the classy joints where men had women fawning over them, all for the pleasure of being their decoration. Men like that were snobby and expectant.

Alana wanted men who wanted her, and had the confidence to show it. So she hit the streets and the parks, the greasy spoons and the movies.

She knew her target market, and she went for it.

Just like right now. She was walking down the street, sashaying side to side to side in a set of shiny black hot pants, with a short sleeved low cut red top. She had a sucker in her mouth and Hollywood-diva sunglasses on. Her nails were red, matching her lipstick. And she wore sandals, toe nails manicured and painted.

She was gorgeous. And she knew it.

She was single, and they knew it.

And she had a wealth of men of just the right age to choose from.

This time, Alana was heading for a part of town not known for being very rich. It also wasn't known for its drug lords and crime gangs, either, so she felt pretty safe when she crossed the tracks that night and started to walk around.

The houses were slightly grimy, but showed signs of care. The lawns were small but all were cut and trimmed properly.

There were many families that lived in this part of town. Boys on bikes stopped and stared, and little girls with skipping ropes watched in inconsiderate jealousy as Alana made her way down the center of the district, passing the small-town style businesses, sucking on her lollipop and eyeing up the possibilities.

Then, she spotted him.

He was nothing more than a pair of feet sticking out from under neat a broken down wreck of a car in some oil stained driveway at first. Then, as if smelling the bitch in heat heading towards him, he rolled himself out from under the car on his short, flat trolley, and looked up.

Their eyes met ever before Alana had the chance to inspect him. But that was all she needed.

Eyes like her own, grey as steel and sparkling with hidden desires and fires. Slowly he sat up, then stood up, wiping his hands on the rag he had tucked into his belt loop. The coveralls he had been wearing probably all day were undone to the waist and hanging down around his hips, leaving his chest bare. His biceps, his pectorals, the slight pale blonde fuzz of hair on his skin, all was smeared here and there with grime and the sweat of a man who worked hard for his money.

Here was a man who deserved to be treated right, to be treated to a taste of what Alana had to offer.

She continued to walk towards him, just as the sun was turning a perfect orange over the tops of the sparse trees and low rooftops. He leaned back against the side of the car, folding his arms expectantly in front of him and watching as Alana approached.

What could he be thinking? she almost wondered.

But Alana knew. She knew every thought in his mind. And right now, he was wondering what trick or ploy she would use to get into his house and get into his pants.

That's a good sign, she told herself, grinning and watching as he grinned right back.

A married man might have a care about letting a girl into his house, especially a girl like me. Mr. Easy up here was showing good signs of having no cares in the world. Exactly what I was looking for.

Finally, she was in front of him, holding her candy in one hand and a jutting hip in the other.

"Hey mister," she said quietly but confidently.

"Yeah?" "It's really hot, and I've walked a long way. Got anything

to drink? I'll pay if I have to."

The man smirked. And Alana was in love with his smile.

"Sure, come on inside," he said coyly, waving for Alana to follow him.

"I've got some lemonade in the fridge, if you don't mind the store bought stuff."

"No, that would be perfect."

Their words were show for the neighbors, pedestrians, whoever was walking by. They already knew the façade was over and the masquerade was done.

Alana followed the man up his front steps, across his porch, and into his house. She marveled at the handy work done all through his hallway and his front living room. He'd redone the house himself, he informed her softly. He owned this house, had owned it for a few years. Now he was just putting on the finishing touches.

In the kitchen, he pulled out a container of iced tea concentrate from the freezer, and set the cold-water tap to running. Alana leaned on the counter next to the sink, her sunglasses inching down her nose as the sun cutting through the room from a nearby window turned everything a golden yellow-orange. Mr. Easy was watching her, staring at the quickly diminishing candy she kept popping in and out of her garishly painted mouth.

Then he walked over towards the sink, but at the last minute, Alana slid in front of him, blocking his path.

He stood in front of her, so close she knew he could almost taste her candy breath.

"Sorry," she apologized, looking up at him.

She removed her sunglasses and set them on the counter top next to her, then met his eyes again, smiling innocently.

"I wanted to wash my hands before you were done using the water, before I touched anything else."

Alana didn't move.

"Do you have a problem with getting a bit dirty, miss?" he said.

"No, not really," Alana replied.

Then, he was leaning forward, resting a hand on either side of her, gripping the edge of the counter.

"Good," he said.

Alana put her arms around his neck, very slowly, and put her mouth to his.

The kiss was electric, a fire starter for sure. His hands went around Alana's slender back, moving up her spine beneath the tight shirt. Then he was slipping the shirt off her body, and she was putting her arms up in the air to help him.

His mouth dropped as he froze her there, holding her arms captive in the shirt as he began to kiss at her small rounded breasts. His tongue teased at the nipples and Alana's sucker dropped into the sink behind her, sloshing around in the running water.

They ignored it.

His tongue was like fire over Alana's already overheated flesh. She moaned, crying out watching him. Mr. Easy ripped the shirt over her hands and threw it to the floor. Then his hands went down her sides, up over her ribs, and he cupped her little titties, mashing them together so he could suckle each cherry sized nipple, then both at once.

Alana was in pure heaven. She could feel the heat of his mouth, the fire of his lips and tongue. And his calloused hands were so rough and slick with grime and sweat. She loved his touch.

Her own hands ran through his short brown hair, gripping it as she pushed her chest out for him.

Then his mouth ventured back up to hers, and he was pulling at his own clothing. Alana decided to help him. She ignored his chest and knelt in front of him, pushing his legs out from the cupboard the sink was in, so she had room to crouch. She tore at his zipper and pulled the coveralls down to the floor, exposing his hairy tanned legs, thick with sinew.

His cock was already hard, jutting forward into her face. It was nothing for her to attach her mouth to it, and Alana eagerly did so.

Mr. Easy gripped the edge of the counter top, wincing in sensitive pain as Alana's teeth dragged up and down his shaft. He looked down at where she was suckling him, gripping his cock ever so tightly. Her black head of shining brilliant hair moved up and down, up and down.

He was going to cum soon. Alana could taste it. And it was a hard call for him to pull her off of his cock as he did. But he wanted her fully. Good guys like him never get good girls like this. He wanted to be inside her.

He lifted her up and kissed at her mouth, tasting his own musky salt scent there. His fingers worked into her hot pants, pulling the short black shorts down quickly, slipping them off of just one foot before he left them and forgot about them.

Then he was kissing along her mons, licking at her navel, suckling her nipples again.

And then...Mr. Easy turned Alana around, quickly, pressing her against the sink. She shivered as the cold countertop touched her bare belly, then she looked behind her at the gorgeous beast stroking his cock while cupping and playing with her ass.

Alana parted her thighs suggestively, still wearing her thick soled sandals. She knew she was just the right height for him, but it made it all the more delicious if she pushed her ass out. Looking at him over her shoulder, she began to drool. His cock was perfect, hard and veined, a working man's penis. He'd probably been working all of his life, however long that was. He probably never got to play like Alana did.

Finally, he had calmed his cock down enough while keeping it still hard. His fingers pried open Alana's cunt, and he shuddered uncontrollably as he placed the head of his cock against her hot wet lips. She was so ready for him, and when he thrust into her tightness, he was amazed at the feel of her sheath sucking him inward. He ran a hand up her spine, stroking the back of her neck and shoulders as he began to thrust into her.

Alana groaned, feeling his enormity fill her. He had a large cock. She liked them large.

Soon, he felt his balls tightening again. But now he could feel her tightening around him, too. His flesh was going to betray him. But he was obsessed with hearing her cry out in pleasure. He continued to fuck her pussy, thrusting himself deeply inside as his hands wandered all over her silky smooth back.

Alana could feel him deep inside her, feel him throbbing within and filling her. It was an incredible feeling. She put her hand in the sink, splashing cold water on her face to make her last. But it was too late.

The feel of him. The pleasure of him. Having him fill her like this, him a total stranger picked from any dozen strangers. She remembered the look of expectancy in his eyes when he'd first met hers. He'd known he was going to fuck her. And she knew she wasn't a disappointment. He loved fucking her, and she loved his fucking.

That drove Alana over the edge. She orgasmed around his cock, milking him and writhing as her climax took hold. And he kept himself inside her for as long as he could.

It wasn't long after she began to calm down that he pulled himself, as yet unspent, out of her tightness. With his fingertips, he began to tease at her buttocks. His finger played over her tight pucker, making Alana gasp. As she turned her face towards his, looking at him over her shoulder, he knew he was about to do something she'd never had done before.

Alana didn't know what to do. She'd already gotten off, that was all she came for. But now this stranger was taking her own sweet juices and rubbing them over her ass. Alana knew what men could do there, knew that some men liked that. But no one had ever asked her before if they could do that to her.

Take her anally.

And this man wasn't exactly asking. From the look of desire in his eyes, the look of pure unadulterated excitement his fingers were expressing, he was going to have her this way. It was up to her whether she enjoyed it or not.

Alana chose to enjoy it.

As Mr. Easy moved his cock head up to her puckered flower, as he began to depress her flesh with his steaming wet head, Alana let her head drop back. She felt him pushing into her, then felt him pop past the hard rim of muscles that had always kept anyone else at bay.

He was inside her now, slowly using his slickness to slip deeper, and deeper. His hand played up her spine, and he put his fingers in her hair, tugging at her silky locks. He couldn't have done anything more appropriate or exciting just then, for Alana's flesh broke out into fresh goose bumps, and she shivered in pleasure.

Deeper into her ass he pushed, until he was buried at last to the hilt. His balls were pressed against her cunt, getting wet with her new and old wetness. He began to pull out, and Alana could feel the rim of his cock, the cock that not that long ago she'd been sucking, dragging along her anal canal.

Then he was out. And pushing himself back in.

With a good grip on Alana's hair, Mr. Easy began to fuck Alana's ass almost as furiously as he had been fucking her pussy. He was careful yet confident, thrusting smoothly in and out and in and out.

Alana's body took on a new arched position, legs splayed wide, head hard back on her shoulders, mouth gaping in desire.

In and out, in and out. Her body was on fire at last! It was divine, having one's insides churned by lust into molten lava!

Then, he was cumming. She could feel him, feel every inch of him as he spurted into her ass. It was too much.

Alana came, her body shaking and her head pulling at his hand as he gripped her hair. Together, they cried out, bodies pressed against the countertop.

He pushed himself deep into her, pressing his chest against her back, pulling her against him, hands on her tits and stomach as he kept himself inside her for as long as he could.

His orgasm was just about as sweet as hers.

Finally, he had had his release. Alana felt him slip out of her behind. Then he was holding a dish towel over her ass, maybe wiping at her, she didn't know. Her body was numb with sex-shock, her mind unaware for a few brief moments.

At last, she turned around.

He was looking at her, coveralls back up to his hips again. He was smiling as he tossed the dish towel aside.

"I also fix cars, you know," he said, chuckling and looking at the sweet young over heated thing leaning weakly against his sink.

"Besides plumbing, you mean?"

The sun had at last set, and it was twilight.