As I finally make it out of the mall and back onto Main Street, a sense of relief overwhelms me, to my own surprise. I have been out of town for the last two weeks, returned just this morning, and immediately went out to resupply the fridge. Now it is done, I have a plan for dinner, it is Saturday, and I have nothing particular to do in the afternoon. Only at this moment I realize how tense and upbeat I actually was until now.
It has been a stressful two weeks. I just started in a new job, my first real one after graduating three months ago. One week of internal workshop at a countryside resort. Then another week touring the state on customer visits. Days fully booked with meetings, tours, dinners and networking, mostly extending long into the evenings. For the last week I have been crashing a new hotel bed every night, only to wake up for early breakfast, and a briefing on the next customer while driving along the highway. Literally no time to myself. I totally need to unwind now, before next Monday makes its appearance.
In a conscious effort I take my pace down, strolling leisurely along Main Street, shopping bag over my shoulder. It is early summer, a little heatwave has come over the state, with temperatures in the early nineties. I am wearing my peach-colored summer dress, its loose airy fit is perfect in this heat. The other people on the street are also struggling to cope. I am surrounded by shorts, t-shirts and tank tops, bare arms, legs, shoulders and bellys. The few businessmen in suits try to appear indifferent, while the sweat pours down under their nice white shirts.
A young guy turns a corner to walk a few meters in front of me. He is wearing a white t-shirt, also a loose fit, yet his shoulders are broad enough to make their presence apparent. Damn good shoulders. My gaze slides down his back, to meet his denim shorts, which fit tighter. Damn good ass. I notice a slight, sweet, bubbling sensation in my stomach. It is true, I have not had anything at all during the last two weeks. Not with others, not with myself. Totally starved. This is typical. I can easily shut it down when there are too many other things to think about. But when the stress is relieved, the itch comes back, takes control, and I end up being unable to think about anything else. It is happening now, I can feel it growing on me by the second. Luckily he turns again, going into the park. I continue down Main Street, making an effort to keep my eyes focused straight ahead.
He has rolled a blanket out on the grass to lie down in the sun, hands folded behind his neck. I have been standing out of sight in the shadows of the thick vegetation, but now I step forward, and walk over to him. He gives me a quick look of surprise as I sit down, straddling his legs, the fabric of my dress settling around me like a little tent.
"Erm, do we know each other?"
"Do we have to?" I give him a little smile, and a blink as I say it.
"You don't mean to..?" He fails to end the sentence.
"I very much mean to! Are you up for it, hunky boy?"
He frowns for a few moments, little wheels spinning in his head. Then his face relaxes and smiles back at me. He takes his hands down under the dress-tent, unbuttons his pants, gets his dick free, and holds it vertical with his fingers. His movements are calm, unremarkable, there are other people in the park. An elderly couple is sitting on a bench besides the lawn. A young mother is trying to entertain her little daughter on the grass, a bit away from us. Their little cries and giggles puncture the dull calmness of the early afternoon.
I carefully adjust my position until I hover right over his rod, its broad mushroom tingling against my clit. After circling it for a little while, I begin to lower myself over it, letting him into me slowly, inch by sweet inch. My g-string is dragged along, its front triangle slides down so the silk rubs my clit, oh yeahh it is good! When I finally have him all the way in, I begin to rock gently back and forth, left and right, trying to keep my upper body still, so as not to reveal what is going on under the dress. He too attempts to appear calm, indifferent, his hands now back under his neck.
"Are you from this town?" he asks me.
"Maybe I am, maybe I ain't. What matters is, I am right here, right now." Just because we are screwing it doesn't mean he has to know about me.
"Do you come here often?"
I give him a little smile. "If I come now it will be the first time in this place."
I lift myself up a bit, then slide gently down again, setting fresh waves of sweetness in motion. At the same time I look around me. The two old people are looking in our direction. What do they see? Do I want them to know what is going on? He rocks gently against me, tinges of sweet pleasure shooting into my body.
"Not much of a talker, are you?" he says.
"I think I made myself understood alright!"
"Might as well chat my friends, then." He pulls out a phone. I lean over, smiling, to wave it away. It gives me a chance to make some larger movements of my underbelly. A bubble of lust is growing steadily in there.
"Ah-ah! No movies!" He duly puts the phone away.
"Wouldn't be a very interesting movie, would it?"
It is true. I am fully dressed. When I am done using him, I will get up and disappear, as quietly as I came. I move back into my upright position, making sure to push myself hard down over him. The bubble swells inside me. It won't be long now. He is close, I can feel it. And I am close too. Can we keep our straight faces when it comes? The old couple are staring constantly at us now. The young mother is also looking, suddenly frozen, a surprised look forming on her face. His body jerks under me. The bubble begins to burst, its contents blasting into my body, OMG, here I come..
The screaming of the brakes, and the droning sound of the horn jolts my body and makes me stop dead. I'm like six feet into the zebra crossing even though the light is red. The craftman's van has come to a halt less than a yard away. Its driver, a young redhead with close-cropped beard leans out of the window, rolling his eyes. A muscular forearm waves towards the light. "Red. Man. Stand!". He speaks overly slow and clear, as if I was a little child. I mumble or mime my excuses as I backtrack onto the pavement. He revs the engine, disappears down the road. I stand back at the kerb, the trembling shock lingering in my body. What the fuck was I thinking? That could have ended up real bad. The light changes to green, I cross the road. Gotta focus now, so that I can make it safely to the drugstore a bit further down Main Street.
The car drives out of town. I sit eerily in the passenger's seat. I shouldn't have gotten in. But the firmness in his voice did not leave any room for discussion. And the accident was my fault, no doubt about that. I see the muscles playing in his forearm as he shifts down the gear, turning the car into the empty rest area. He shuts off the engine, looks me in the eye.
"We can settle it with a spanking here and now. Or we can call the cops and insurance. What would you prefer?"
I don't answer him, but my breathing gets heavier, and I guess that's a kind of answer as well. I open the door and get out, making an abrupt, impatient gesture with my head. He also gets out. There is a dark-green table-and-bench set. He sits down on the edge of one bench, his legs slightly spread out. A nervous excitement sucks deeply into my belly. I am going to get spanked, right here, right now! I lie down over his legs, and pull up my dress. For good measure I also pull down the g-string, even though it wouldn't have made a difference anyway. I lean forward, set my flat palms on the ground for support, while resting on the tips of my sandals in the other end. Adjust my position so that my rounded white buttocks become the highest point, strutting invitingly towards his hand.
He puts one hand and forearm over my waist, firmly securing my position. Oddly, it gives a sort of warm flowing sensation through my body. Then he begins to spank me. Firm rythmic slaps, three at a time on each buttock. A stinging pain on the skin, with a warm, burning sensation spreading underneath. I absorb it without whimping, but my breath gets heavier. After a while he stops, resting his hand for a moment. Then it resumes, faster if not firmer, the pain builds up, now it really stings and burns! I cannot help letting out small squeals and twist my body under his firm grip. Towards the end I even begin to kick my legs, he has to stop a couple of times to get them out of the way.
When it is finally over I lie still for a few seconds regaining my breath, then get up on uncertain feet. My butt burns brightly, and my whole body is shaking with the adrenaline rushing through it. Now I must pull up the g-string, get into the van, let him drive me back into town. That is what I must do. But I don't. Instead, I step out of the string, so that I can spread my legs properly, and lean over the table. There is no need for words. He hesitates for a few seconds, then I hear the sound of his zipper opening. And then I feel him. He is big, fills me out well. His hands grab me by the hips, and he begins to take me, slowly, with authority. I work against his movements, making sure that each thrust goes all the way, rocking up and down to make the most of him. The contrast between the sweet waves of pleasure spreading into my body, and the prickling, burning sensation that lingers in my buttocks is wild, a total sensory overload that drowns out my conscious thoughts, opening the door to deep, strong forces of nature. My breath is quick and deep now, I rest heavily on my elbows, my head hanging just a few inches over the table. Its dark-green paint is peeling off in big flakes, it blurs to a lighter green as the orgasm dissolves me...
"Oh my GOOOD Megan, is that YOU?"
I look up in surprise, to see Shawn's sprawling red curls coming towards me. A moment later I am enveloped by her arms and body. When we are done hugging, se holds me out in straight arms, looking inquisitively at me.
