Streaer

"A dare's a dare," said Suzanna primly. "You said you'd do it, Megan, and now's the time."

Megan gave her friends a most unfriendly look, but conceded that she had agreed.

"I knew I'd regret this as soon as I said it," she lamented.

"It'll be easy," Suzanna insisted. "We'll let you out at the corner, you run the length of the street and we'll be waiting to pick you up at the other corner. Now strip."

Reluctantly Megan stripped. One short run and she was home free, and she'd think up something suitably nasty for the next person on a dare.

Arriving at the corner, Megan gulped. That short block had never seemed so long before, and why were there so many people around, anyway?

Mentally she plotted her path, straight down turn the corner at the Post Office and meet the car coming up the lane behind the shops.

On getting the nod Megan took a big breath and streaked. Watching her go, Suzanna suddenly spoke.

"It's my dinner time. I don't really have time to go down and pick Megan up. Let's head for home."

Hearing no dissent, Suzanna drove off, the other passengers laughing quietly.

Megan, a bright red from running and embarrassment, reached the Post Office, swung down the side street and into the lane. The enormity of having no car waiting took a moment to hit. Then it sank in. She was naked in the middle of town, with no clothes, no phone and no money.

And no friends, as she was going to kill each and every one of them as soon as she got her hands on them.

Hearing someone approaching she ducked into one of the little yards behind the shops and hid. Maybe if she waited until it was dark, she'd be able to sneak home or find a public phone booth.

A slow, cold, hour passed for Megan, who cringed every time she heard footsteps pass down the lane. A couple of times she heard a car and had bravely stuck her head out, hoping that it was a rescue, only to resignedly retreat in defeat. Now she just waited, hoping night would fall.

Confident footsteps came striding up the lane and, to Megan's horror, they stopped outside the gate to the yard she was in, and someone entered.

"Come out please, miss," called a firm voice. "This is the police."

Nervously Megan stuck her head around the edge of the shed she'd taken refuge in.

"Go away," she cried. "I'm not hurting anyone."

You're trespassing, miss, and there's been a complaint. You'll have to leave."

Leave? How could she leave. Furious all of a sudden, Megan stepped out of the shed and confronted the officious busybody.

"Leave?" she asked. "Like this? Are you sure you want me to?"

Startled, the officer raised his eyebrows.

"You seem to have lost an item or two of clothing, miss," he observed. "Would you be the streaker who was reported earlier?"

Taking the red flush on her face as an indication of agreement, the officer smiled.

"Something go wrong with the pickup, did it?" he murmured, while taking off his jacket. "Put this on. It's a shame to cover you up, but I expect you'll feel happier."

Wearing a jacket did indeed make Megan feel happier, but still not happy enough to want to march out into the street where everyone could see her with police escort. Seeing her continued reluctance, the officer reached over and removed a pair of dark glasses from the jacket pocket.

"Put these on," he suggested. "Then you'll be harder to recognise."

Giving him a hard look, Megan obeyed. She wasn't prepared to swear that he'd deliberately poked her boob while getting out the glasses, but she wasn't prepared to swear it had been an accident, either.

"Now, miss," said the officer, "If you'll give me your name and address I'll run you home."

"And if I don't?"

"I'll run you to the police station and they can take it from there," returned the officer blandly. "Your choice."

"I'm Megan. Megan Andrews," Megan said, going on to give him her address. "What's your name, by the way?"

"Officer Stevens, but you can call me Paul. My car is just around the corner."

Keeping one eye firmly on her, Paul escorted Megan to his car, helping her into the back. A short time later they were driving towards her place, chatting quietly together.

Arriving, Paul looked thoughtfully, at Megan.

"How do you propose to get in?" he asked. "You don't appear to have your keys with you."

Blushing, Megan told him she had a spare key hidden near the back door. Paul escorted her around to the back where Megan retrieved her key and admitted them.

Megan felt a large wave of relief roll over her now that she was safely home. Turning to thank Paul for his help and for his jacket, Megan suddenly realised that she might be in for some legal trouble.

"Um, am I going to get a ticket or something like that for what happened?" she asked.

"I don't think that will be necessary," said Paul. "I don't know that you were the unidentified streaker and no-one has actually filed a complaint. I'll have to note that I helped a young lady in distress, but that's what we're there for."

"On another note," Paul continued, "You might like to reconsider if you feel like doing something foolish again."

Reaching over, he began to casually remove his jacket from her.

"You really should remember," he said, "that men are men, and seeing a naked woman can tempt them to do things that maybe they shouldn't, like touching those lovely globes to see what they feel like."

Suiting action to words, Paul reached out and began to stroke the lovely globes he'd mentioned, while Megan stood still, looking at the large hands now stroking her breasts.

"Even worse," Paul said softly, "some men might want to feel if your skin is as smooth here as it looks."

Megan saw one of his hands drop away, sliding down over her tummy and then gliding across her mons, his fingertips sending little ripples through her, little curls seeming to unravel within her stomach.

"It's a short step from someone touching you to wanting to taste you," came Paul's mesmerising voice, and now his head dipped and his mouth moved hotly across her breasts, capturing a nipple and gently suckling.

Megan was breathing hard, her back arched slightly to assist Paul's access her breasts, gasping as she felt him sucking on them.

Paul took a step back, and looked at Megan, running his eyes up and down her naked form. Then placing his hand around her waist he lifted her and sat her on the kitchen table, moving her legs apart so that he could stand between them.

"Megan," said Paul gently, "if you want me to stop you'd better say so now, or my little lesson is going to get a lot more intense."

"No," gasped Megan. "I'm really curious. What else might happen to a naked girl?"

"For a start, she might find herself having unmentionable liberties taken," Paul told her, proceeding to take those unmentionable liberties, while at the same time describing each one in detail.

"Do you know that once a man has placed his finger in here," said Paul, wriggling his finger to ensure she got the point, "he might use it to squeeze tender places like this?"

Megan gave a strangled gasp as she felt her clitoris suddenly being assaulted by fingers that teased and squeezed.

"And after you have been tormented like this, the man might remember he has another little finger that could cause you trouble," came Paul's insistent voice, and Megan dimly hear the movement of material.

Glancing down, Megan was quickly able to see what the material that had fallen was. That extra little finger that Paul had mentioned had come out to play, and little was not the word she would have used to describe it.

"What are you going to do with that?" she gasped, although she was quite certain that she already knew.

"I'm just going to let it play where my other fingers went," Paul said, smiling. "It wouldn't be fair to leave it out in the cold, now would it?"

Eyes wide, Megan shook her head, her thighs spreading slightly wider to ensure that her new friend had room to play.

As Paul moved even closer to her, Megan leant back slightly, her arms behind her, supporting her while she watched. She could see Paul's cock pressing firmly against her lips, while at another level she could feel it pressing into her. As she watched she could see and feel her lips parting, giving Paul entry. She had had sex before, but had never actually watched as a cock made its way into her. She found it fascinating to both see and feel the experience.

As Paul advanced slowly into her, Megan found herself trying to move forward to greet him, stymied because she was sitting firmly on the kitchen table. She didn't have the freedom of movement required to help, and could only sit there helplessly, feeling and watching as Paul pressed home.

Paul embedded himself fully into Megan's waiting body, and held himself there for a moment. Slowly he withdrew, watching Megan as she stared at where their bodies came together, seemingly entranced by the action taking place. Hovering, with his head just within her, Paul suddenly pressed forcefully home again, hearing Megan gasp as he plunged into her.

Now Paul was busy, thrusting into Megan's willing but oddly static body.

He could sense she was trying to meet him, and was becoming frustrated at being unable to slide freely upon him, having to depend on him for every little movement.

Laughing, Paul encouraged Megan to wrap her legs around his waist, then he pulled her towards him, lifting her off the table so she settled more firmly upon his erection. Her arms lifted and clasped around his neck and now she was clinging to him, her bottom bobbing in time to his thrusts as Megan finally found herself able to match him.

They stood there for a timeless interval, matching thrust for thrust, united in their effort to bring pleasure to each other. Paul soon felt his own climax approaching and, moving closer to the table, he sat Megan upon it before driving into her hard, nailing home his mastery of her body, and then releasing himself into her with a few desperate strokes.

Megan could feel Paul coming within her, and she clung to him tightly.

"Please," she choked, "don't stop. Not yet."

She gave a gasp of satisfaction as she felt Paul continue to pound her, helping her along the path and then lifting her up to fly at the end of it.

Gasping, she relaxed, leaning forward to rest her head against Paul's chest.

Looking up at him, she laughed. "I hadn't realised how dangerous streaking might be," she told him. "I'm fortunate you're here to warn me of the possible consequences."

"Someone should have warned me," growled Paul. "You're dangerous. I'd better get back on my patrol before someone comes looking for me."

Megan watched him go, smiling. "Suzanna," a little voice in her head said. "She's was driving and I bet she ditched me deliberately. I'll really have to arrange something similar for her, but not where Paul is. Maybe I can find a place where there's a bunch of drunken soccer fans who want to play."