Author's Note:
Hi everyone! Well, it's been a long time since I last wrote a one-off short story so I thought I had better set that right and bash out a nice little fun tale of an anonymous encounter between two young friends and a man chosen totally at random. It is loosely based on one of my favourite CFNM scenarios albeit with much more back story and a very different ending.
As usual, all characters are over 18 and any similarities to any person(s) living or dead and any company or organisation are totally unintended and entirely coincidental.
Hope you enjoy it!
*****
Proving a Theory?
"You can't be serious!" A shocked Mandi gasped from the passenger seat at her best friend as she drove them along a quiet country lane towards the village where they lived.
"I'm telling you..." Lizzie replied, "They're
all
the same!"
"No way! I simply refuse to believe that." Mandi replied, "I mean, you can't just make that kind of aspersion without solid proof to back it up."
"Think whatever you want, but it's true."
"How do you know it's true?" Mandi retorted, "You know me, I'm an empiricist - I need to have proof of something before I can believe it. How do propose you prove it to me?"
"Well, I'll go find you one and then I'll prove it to you."
"Nope, that won't work." Mandi said dismissively, "If I know you, you'd have arranged it beforehand. It needs to be completely random in order to prove your theory."
"Okay then, we'll do it." Lizzie said, "The next one we come across."
Mandi Jessop and Lizzie Simmonds had been best friends since their first day at secondary school at the age of 11. They had been through all of the myriad feelings and the hormone-fuelled roller coaster of emotions that teenage life could throw at them. They had experienced their first periods together, supporting each other as first Lizzie, and then Mandi went through the experience of their first menstrual cycle and the required use of feminine hygiene products that went with it. Then they had shared gossip about the boys in their class at school, about which of them they fantasised about the most. They shopped for their school prom dresses together, went to university together, they both worked for the same local council - Lizzie in the planning department and Mandi in the housing team, in fact they were rarely apart for more than a few hours at a time. To say that they were best friends was an understatement; it was almost as though they were twins.
During their years as A-Level students, they had lost their virginities within days of each other. Mandi lost hers to a young Greek man while on holiday in Crete while Lizzie had her first time with an older man - her 'uncle' who was really a friend of her father's - during a wedding reception.
The two friends, now in their twenties, lived close by to each other in the same village they had grown up in and it was customary for them to share the chore of driving to and from the nearby town where they both worked. They often gossiped, as most women do, as they made their way to and from work and Lizzie often provoked Mandi's interest by throwing in a totally random hypothesis from out of the ether and it was one such hypothesis that had led to the conversation they were currently having.
"No chance!" Mandi scoffed as Lizzie piloted the car along the road.
"You wanna bet?" Lizzie grinned.
As far as she was concerned, to Mandi this represented a pretty safe bet.
"You're on!" Mandi said brightly, "Fifty quid says you can't prove it!"
"Deal!" Lizzie said with a wide grin, "I'm telling you Mandi... men are
always
the same! All a girl has to do is ask and he'll drop his pants and show you his cock!"
Mandi remained unconvinced, what about gay men for example? Certain in her own mind that surely a man wouldn't simply agree to just show his manhood to any strange woman - not unless there was something in it for him in return - she decided to throw a caveat into their wager.
"Ah, but it has to be genuine okay, there has to be nothing in it for him - no promises of sexual favours or any kind of arrangement to hook up later and show us his bits in private. It has to be right there, and right then. And if he's gay it doesn't count okay."
"Fair enough, although it would probably be best if we at least found somewhere nicely secluded." Lizzie added, "He's not going to want to do it by the side of the road."
A moment of contemplative silence passed between the two of them before they saw him.
Rounding a bend in the road, the two girls caught sight of a man; most likely in his mid 30's walking along the side of the road, a small canvas rucksack slung over one shoulder. He looked to be a typical specimen of a perfectly normal, totally average, completely common-or-garden White European male. Dressed in a loose grey T-shirt, dark blue denims and brown leather boots he appeared the very epitome of conventional masculinity. His light brown hair was kept pleasingly short and with only a very slight stubble on his chin, his facial features gave him a kindly non-threatening demeanour with his blue eyes and perfectly proportioned nose. He wore a smart looking wristwatch on his left wrist and a couple of charity wristbands on the other. His only other adornment was a tasteful gold chain around his neck. He was in short, the ideal candidate for Lizzie to prove, or disprove, her theory that any man when asked by a woman would happily drop his trousers and pants and show her his most sacred and private parts.
"He'll do!" Lizzie announced brightly, and she immediately flicked on her indicators and pulled over to the side of the road. She opened her window as the car came to a halt, pausing to turn and wink at her friend.
"Excuse me, erm... we're strangers around here and we're a bit lost and we're running a bit low on petrol, is there somewhere we can fill up around here?" Lizzie asked the man with the rucksack.
"Um... I dunno really, I'm a bit of a stranger around here myself." The man replied politely.
"That's a shame." Lizzie said, adding a hint of 'damsel in distress' to the timbre of her voice.
"What brings two nice young ladies so far off the beaten track anyway? Were you looking for anywhere in particular?" The man said as he stepped over to the car.
"Well, some directions back to the main road would be helpful... if you know how we can get there that is." Lizzie said.
"Ah well, that I
can
help you with!" The pleasantly mannered gentleman said with a smile, "I got off the bus a few miles down the road from here from the main road into Felchester. If you take the first left and then the second right you should find yourselves back on the main road. I think I remember the bus passing a garage about a mile or two down the main road from the stop where I got off."
"Thank you sooo much, that's really helpful!" Lizzie beamed, and then added completely out of the blue, "Would you like to show me your cock?"
"No problem, anything to... I'm sorry... what did you just say??"
"I said I'd really like to see your cock." Lizzie replied as though it was the most normal thing in the world to ask a man she'd never met before.
"You want to see my what?!?"
"Your cock." Lizzie said patiently, "I bet it's a real beauty. Handsome man like you... I wouldn't mind betting that your cock is as gorgeous a sight as the rest of you!"
She batted her eyelashes at him for added flirtatious effect.
"Well... I... erm..." The man replied in utter confusion.
"Pleeeease??" Lizzie pleaded, putting on her best curious little girl voice.
The man looked up the road, first one way and then the other.
"We wouldn't tell anyone... honest!" Lizzie added, "We just want to take at look at it and then we'll let you go on your way. Pleeeease???"
The man sighed heavily.
"Alright." He said in a placating manner, "Just as long as it isn't here by the roadside."
The two girls squealed in delight.
"Hop in, we'll see if we can find somewhere to pull over! Mandi called across to the anonymous man.
Lizzie knew exactly where she wanted to go. It was a spot called Chiver's Copse, a small patch of dense ancient woodland about half a mile up the road from where they were. She knew of a small wooden shelter there, right on the edge of the copse by the side of a small woodland track. She knew it would be perfectly secluded and they would be unlikely to be disturbed by anyone. It was the scene of one of the most exhilarating episodes in her life. Her father's friend, the man she called 'Uncle' Steve, had taken her for a walk in the countryside a few years earlier, not long after the evening at the wedding reception where the two of them had made love together in his hotel room. They walked through peaceful woodland glades, fording the occasional stream and took in the views of the surrounding countryside from the hilltops. Eventually they came across the small wooden shelter - it had been erected many years ago to provide shelter for shooting parties on the local Lord's estate during pheasant season. The current Lord of the manor was very much against blood sports however, and the small hut had fallen into disrepair as a result of years of disuse. Quite on the spur of the moment, for such was her impulsive nature, she dragged Uncle Steve into the shelter and kissed him. That kiss elevated into a full-on make out session, 'heavy petting' her mother's generation called it. As the passion between them ramped up with every passing minute, Lizzie felt a hormonal surge that ignited a fire within her loins. With a smile she took a step back, reached up inside her skirt and then pulled down her knickers.
With her lacy pink panties around her ankles she turned and bent over, hiking up her skirt and presenting her puffily engorged vulva in an open invite for him to take her from behind. 'Uncle' Steve needed no further prompting, within moments his trousers and pants were around his ankles and his stiffly engorged manhood was buried up inside her.
The rapid, urgent, animalistic sex that followed was the most incredible feeling she had ever felt. His forceful thrusting and masculine grunting only served to fan the flames of her own arousal further and further still. She gasped and cried as his thighs repeatedly collided with her bare buttocks, causing a sharp slapping sound to echo around the wooden walls of the little shack.
When it arrived, her orgasm consumed her totally, causing her to scream and cry and gnash her teeth as her 'Uncle's' penis pummeled her vagina like a pneumatic drill on its most powerful setting. When her orgasm eventually subsided, his began. It was much shorter than hers, but judging by the sudden explosion of warmth she felt inside her and the loud exultations he made as he came, his orgasm was certainly no less enjoyable for him than hers had been. His eruption lasted but a few moments, but it felt as though a bomb had exploded within her and she marvelled at the raw, visceral power of the male orgasm.
As they both stood momentarily exhausted and panting heavily, he slipped out of her. A little of his sticky greyish-white spend dribbled down her leg as she stood up, turned to face him and then took him in her arms. They kissed once again, softly and languidly for a while before making themselves decent and continuing on their way.
That brief dalliance had been only the second time they made love but alas, it was also to be the last. 'Uncle' Steve, a Lieutenant in Her Majesty's armed forces, was sent to serve a tour in Afghanistan a few weeks later.
He returned home in a coffin draped with the Union Flag carried out of the back of a C-17 Globemaster by six smartly uniformed pall bearers on a rainy afternoon the following February.
