Larks in the Park Ch. 01byAshson©
Am I a rapist? I'm really not sure and would like your opinion. Let me explain what happened.
I'm a largish man, a little over six foot and solidly built. I'm in my early thirties, fit, healthy and, in my opinion, reasonably intelligent. I consider myself to be average looking, while some have been known to call me pleasantly ugly. Might I stress that I do not consider myself to look like a nasty thuggish brute, no matter what some people might say.
Anything else? Oh, yes. I suppose I should introduce myself. Roger's the name.
I'd been having lunch in the park, loafing and catching a bit of sun before I went back to work. So here I am, wandering through the park, walking down one of the more secluded paths, one that was lined with bushes on either side. That's when and where I got caught short.
All of a sudden I was busting to go, and I had no idea where the nearest toilet was. This was not a problem. Like I said, bushes either side of the path. I just stepped between two of them and quietly relieved myself into them, out of sight of Joe Public. Finishing, I zipped up and decided I wanted a cigarette. I know, it's unhealthy, but I don't care. I enjoy the occasional smoke. I reached for my pack and found I had no lighter.
While I was scrabbling for my cigarettes and non-existent lighter, I was stepping out of the bushes and back onto the path. Right where I stepped out of the bushes, a woman was walking, about two steps from me.
What did she look like, you're wondering? Average, I suppose. Smaller than me, naturally. Reasonably pretty, nice boobs, nice hair, nice boobs, long slender legs and a pair of very nice boobs. She was wearing yoga pants that enhanced the look of those legs, and a tightish top that enhanced a pair of very nice boobs.
Wanting a match and having someone right there to ask, I naturally accosted her to ask.
"Excuse me, lady," I began. Might I point out that no matter what other people say, I don't speak in a low growl. I was being perfectly polite, which is why I couldn't understand her reaction.
She squeaked. Literally squeaked. It sounded as though she wanted to scream but couldn't get it out. Then she started to talk.
"Oh, my god. Oh, my god," she started. "It's happening. I knew I shouldn't come this way alone. You're going to drag me into the bushes, aren't you? You don't have to be rough. I'll come along quietly, honest."
Before I can say if my intentions were peaceful or otherwise, she pushed past me and into the bushes, talking all the time.
"See. I'm being co-operative. You won't need to be rough or anything."
On the other side of the bushes there were some grassy clearings, reasonably secluded. This nutcase looked around at the clearing and started up again.
"Oh, god. You're going to do it right here, aren't you," she gabbled. "Listen, there's no need to tear off my clothes, honest. I'll take them off for you. I don't want them damaged. What do I take off first? I'm not sure."
I distinguished myself by saying something to the effect of "ah, lady,", meaning to explain that I only wanted a light for my cigarette, and the fact that I happened to be looking at a really nice pair of boobs at the time should have been irrelevant. Apparently it wasn't.
"My breasts. You want to look at my breasts first. I should have guessed. All men are the same and have this fixation with breasts. All right, I'm taking my top off. Be patient. I'm trying to hurry."
God that woman could talk. She had decided what was going on and she was trying to control the situation in her own fashion. While she was babbling she skinned out of her top, showing that she had on this flimsy excuse for a bra. Then the bra was gone, showing that she had no need for it apart from its decorative value. In her top, her breasts were superb. Out of her top and able to flaunt themselves, they were magnificent. My palms itched just looking at them.
"I suppose you're going to want to feel them for a while," she moaned. "Go ahead. I won't try to stop you."
What harm could there be, I thought, to humour this nut job. I just reached out and cupped those beauties, squeezing lightly and playing with the nipples.
"Oh, god," she cried. "You're going to maul them, aren't you? I can't stop you, can I? Go ahead."
What the hell. If she wanted them mauled, I'd damn well maul them for her. I change from a gentle stroke to some serious groping. They were really nice, and her nipples were standing out now. Odd that. No reaction to a gentle touch, but as soon I got a bit rough, up they stood.
Enough was enough, and I thought I'd better get the conversation back onto its proper track.
"Very nice, lady," I said, "but..."
That was as far as I got. She broke in and started gabbling again.
"I know, I know," she said. "You want to get on with it and want my pants off. OK, I'm doing it. No need to get nasty, honest."
I hadn't known that a woman could shuck yoga pants and her panties so fast. So I now had this naked woman in front of me, plainly expecting me to take advantage of her against her will.
I couldn't help myself. I defy anyone to suddenly be confronted by a naked woman and not react in some way. Suddenly she was no longer looking average but hot, and my cock was letting me know it had noticed. She was freshly shaven and her pubic area was superbly smooth. I probably shouldn't have checked it with my fingers, but what the hell?
She gasped when my fingers brushed her pubic area, pressing it against me. Geez, I was tempted to do a damn sight more touching. Manfully, I tried to pull back again, but I made one little error.
My erection was now painfully pressing against my trousers, and I surreptitiously tried to adjust its position while I explained to her that she was making a mistake.
I got as far as "Listen, lady," when she was diving in the deep end again. She'd spotted my subtle attempt at cock adjustment and leapt to her own conclusions.
She started up with the 'oh god's again, drowning out anything I wanted to say.
"Oh, god, oh, god, you want me to take it out. Oh, god, I'll have to touch it." There was a slight pause while she was unzipping me and whipping it out, and then she continued on in a higher voice. "Oh, god. Will you look at the size of that thing. God, it's going to be impossible." Looking quickly up at me she quickly apologised. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult you. I'm sure you know what to do with it."
Is there any man who doesn't know what to do with a raging hard-on? If there is, he should hand in his man-card.
She rattled on, anticipating my requests and hurrying to fill them before they were made.
"Oh, god," she started up again. "You'll be wanting it wet so it slides in more easily, won't you? OK."
That woman had so many 'oh gods' she could probably found her own religion. That was just an idle thought I had before her mouth closed over me, apparently to provide the wetness I'd been going to demand.
Her head bobbed up and down, and I'm damned certain she'd done this sort of thing before. I wondered if she often accosted men this way.
It was very nice, but after a while I reached down and sort of pried her off my cock, standing her up and looking at her. It was immediately obvious I should have left her mouth where it was, because she wasn't talking while she was sucking on me. Now that her mouth was free, it was flapping again.
"You're in a hurry to get started, aren't you? How do you want me? Lying down, bending over, on all fours?"
I must have blinked or given some sign at that point, because she whirled around and was sinking to her hands and knees, holding her bottom high and spreading her legs and talking.
"On all fours. Ok. Is this right? Oh, god, you're just going to drive that thing into me aren't you. You're going to be so rough I won't be able to stand it. OH, GOD!"
That last oh, god was my fault. I mean, here I was, cock sticking out a yard in front of me, a naked women bent over presenting herself and expecting to be pronged. So I pronged.
I just lined up and drove straight into her, all the way with one fast stroke. That's why she squealed that last oh, god. But don't get me wrong, I slipped in very easily. She was hot and wet and ready and adjusting to me even as I was plunging in.
You'd think that now I was in her and starting to pump, she'd shut up. You'd be wrong. Why should she shut up when there wasn't a cock in her mouth?
A veritable stream of oh, gods flowed from her, interwoven with things I was going to do.
The conversation went like this. Actually, it wasn't a conversation, but a monologue.
"Oh, god, he's going to grab my breasts now, oh, god, he's getting rougher and harder, oh, god, he's going to pinch my nipples and bruise my breasts, oh god, how much harder is he going to do this to me."
That's just a sample. The entire time I was taking her she kept talking, gasping, squeaking and giving little screams of appreciation and a constant flow about the things I was doing.
Mind you, some of her suggestions were pretty good, and I've remembered them for when I'm banging someone else. At the same time, I could tell from the shrillness of the oh, gods that she was rapidly approaching a climax. It turned out that I didn't need to listen for subtle signs about her orgasm.
Without missing a beat, her bottom bobbing up and down as she orchestrated her own ravishment, her monologue switched.
"Oh, god, oh, god, I'm going to climax. You're going to make me climax. Why me? You're going to come inside me, aren't you? Oh, god. You're too big, I can't stand this. Are you going to do it faster?"
As a matter of fact, yes, I was going to move a bit faster as I was ready to explode. It also turned out that the damned woman shut up when she climaxed, in a manner of speaking. Her chattering changed to a continuous scream as she shuddered under me, at the same time as I obliging flooded her with my climax.
What got me was when did she find time to breathe, with all that talking?
Any way, we had both climaxed and I was kneeling behind her, cock still in her and arms around her holding those lovely breasts. Then she started up.
"Was I OK? Did I please you? Can I get dressed and go now? I won't tell anyone."
I was finally able to get a word in.
"Got a match?" I asked.
Wrong question, apparently.
"A match? For a cigarette? Do you insist on smoking after sex? Smoking's bad for you, you know! Why don't you quit. It'll be a lot healthier for you."
I assumed that that was a no. Sighing I pulled back away from her and zipped myself up. Then succumbing to temptation I hauled back and let fly a resounding spank on her bottom, leaving a big red handprint.
That interrupted her flow of chatter long enough for me to say, "You talk too much." Then I departed, pushing through the bushes back to the path.
I hesitated and then pushed through the bushes on the other side so that I could observe her when she came out. After about five minutes she did so, glanced around, saw that I wasn't in sight and headed on her way with this funny little smile on her face. And I hoped her bottom smarted.
So tell me, did I rape her or not?