It was a long walk home, but Rhyley was looking forward to the downtime it afforded her. Working as a waitress was tiring and coming home to an empty flat was depressing. The only real reason she looked forward to the walk was her unusually realistic daydreams. Any time of the day or night, she could have the most startling erotic visions the would rival the most creative of adults films. Her favorite fantasy was always the same: a cold, rainy night about ten, her soaked and nearly tranparent clothes clinging to her thick frame and voluptuous breasts. She was dispirited and tired and in serious need of some biblical loving as the rain had such an affect on her.
Then she heard a barking cough that drew her attention to the decrepit park bench with the faded paint. The sound was so harsh and sudden that it made her jump a bit and back away to a safe distance. When she saw that the man had no intention of attacking her, she listened to him again rack his lungs with that horrific wheezing cough. Rhyley was always ready to help someone who was in need and she was Johnny On The Spot for the man sitting. She offered a tissue and a throat lozenge. She suffered from allergies herself and never ran out of OTC medications.
When she placed the tissue and drop on his leg, she waited for him to take them up so she could give him a smile and go on her way. He did finally look up at her and she saw his lovely eyes were positively livid, rimmed with red and watering profusely. She didn't move or speak she was so taken with his rugged beauty.
His hair hung in wet clumps, it waving around his temples and collar. It looked like he hadn't shaved in days and his skin was ruddy with the chilly air. She felt such a stab of pity that she took an dreadfully inappropriate action and decided to invite him to her home to let him recover a bit and warm up with a decent meal.
"I know I shouldn't do this, but would you like to come with me? I have a small place, but you are welcome to get warmed up and I can cook."
He looked into her eyes and it seemed like he was wresting with the possibilities. He stood up and she took a reactive step back. He looked her up and down, just enough to get her juices flowing. The heat in the gaze was enough to make her weak. "Alright," he said. "You aren't planning on killing me, are you?"
She smiled at his growling accent and turned to lead the way. "I," she called over her shoulder, "was about to ask you the same thing." She walked on assuming he would follow her and he did. He didn't talk much, but then, she didn't either. And unbeknownst to Rhyley, the dreadfully damp man was watching her rotund ass sway as she strolled the boulevard leading to her flat. He grinned a bit at the thought of her sweet backside rolling under his hands as he plowed her from behind.
His thoughts were put to rest as she rounded the corner to a decisively dark and Victorian building. She looked back at him and opened the door with her skeleton key. "A bit antiquated, don't you think?" She stopped and looked up at him. She smiled again and shrugged. "It's this way. Third floor walkup. I hope you like the exercise, bub." Again his thoughts were drawn to her ass. Those clothes! Her body was seemingly built for them. A snug pair of jeans, old, black Chuck Taylor Converse sneakers and a cotton t-shirt. My God, he thought. You could have tried for millennia and still not have made anything as lovely as this creature before me.
She hit the top of the stairs and continued straight on to the back. She had this spot all to herself, all her neighbors's doors were at the opposite end of the hall. She couldn't see his raging hard on as she opened her door. He was so excited by her in a way that he had never known before, that he didn't know if he could make it without taking her with the utmost lust and desire. He just couldn't hold on to himself.
As she turned to let him in, he grabbed her around the shoulders and leapt into her apartment. He slammed the door with his foot and plunged his mouth onto hers, searing her skin with the heat that welled inside him. She whimpered and struggled against him and he let his arms loosen just a bit. "Please," he shoulted, "Please. Let me explain." She relaxed and waited for him to speak. She was scared, but not enough to fight back.
"I am sorry, but I want you so bad! I have never felt so strongly about someone as I do about you."
"You don't know me."
"I know, but I just want you to know how I feel. If you want me to leave, I will, I had no intention of frightening you, but I can hardly hold back long enough to tell you this. There is something about you."
"Are you crazy? You could have asked me first! What do I look like?"
