Homeless Man Ch 02

Laura was a good girl. She came from a good family. She went to school and did well, not the best, but she was at the top. She did sports, primarily gymnastics, and she loved it and was training hard. She had good friends, and she was popular. She went to church with her parents every Sunday. She did all the right things. She said all the right things and had all the correct values and opinions.

Laura had another side. A darker, hidden side. She struggled with it and tried her best to contain it. To hide it so no one saw anything besides her being a good girl. But every night, she struggled. The dirty thoughts came unbidden. Her excitement rose without her being able to contain it. She could not help herself but pulled on her hard nipples and played with that special button on top of her pussy. She felt ashamed bringing herself to orgasm. However, at the same time, she knew it slowed her racing imagination and dampened the burning need in the pit of her stomach.

At least for a while.

The need was always lurking in the back of her mind. Sometimes, it swelled during the day. If it became too much, she had to find a bathroom, a dressing room, or anywhere else where she could be private. Once she was secure, she could tend to her drenched pussy.

She often felt like a hypocrite when she was with her friends. A common topic they talked about was boys. Who was nice. Who was cute. Who they wanted to be together with. But at the same time, they talked about saving themselves for Mr. Right. How to stay pure. The social expectations and rules were conflicting but, at the same time, razor-sharp. One misstep and you were easily labeled a slut and an outcast.

She was scared of boys. Not scared of what they could do to her, but of herself. She feared she would not be able to contain her feelings if she let a boy get close. She was afraid that she would lose control. That she would act in an unacceptable way for a girl if her urges got too intense. The social verdict would be swift and merciless if that happened.

Her defense was keeping boys at least an arm's length away from her, which was a challenge in itself. She was good looking. Some said she was the prettiest girl in school. She had to fend suitors off who rooted for her attention routinely. Her friends admired her for her steadfast morality.

However, when she was alone and tried to soothe her throbbing pussy, she felt like a hypocrite.

Finding the worn, discarded dildo had been a blessing and a curse. It worked better than the spray cans and shampoo bottles she had played with previously. But with time, the dildo deepened her desire and needs, and she wanted more. Steadily, she became more frustrated.

Then, on that fateful day, she met the homeless man like many times before. It struck her that he was an older man and harmless. He was a poor, grimy excuse of a man dressed in rags and living behind a dumpster. He was such a social outcast that she could do whatever she wanted with him, and no one would know. Once the idea had struck her, she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. It did not take long before her feet propelled her to visit him at night when the darkness hid her actions.

Laura had only a vague idea of what she wanted. But the homeless man needed no guidance and eagerly took everything she offered. She ended up naked on her back on top of some dirty cardboard boxes. The equally naked homeless man had been on top of her. His grimy, old body had melded together with her flawless, young female one. He had panted with unchecked lust as he took her sacred cherry--the one she should have protected above everything. She had loved every second of it. Her orgasm had been spectacular when he worked himself to completion inside her.

Weeks went by since that night. Laura passed him several times on her way to and from the mall. They did not acknowledge each other, but Laura felt they were very aware of each other.

Laura tried not to analyze what she was feeling. He was an outcast, a social nobody, beneath her dignity. She should not pay him any attention whatsoever.

Yet, she could not stop thinking about him. He had done something to her. The image of his ugly, toothless face framed by his greasy and unkempt hair filled her mind whenever she felt the heat rising inside her. Every time she used the dildo, she remembered how his greasy body had felt on top of her. His thick, stinking cock had invaded her, melding their bodies together. The feeling had been nothing like she had felt before.

In the privacy of her room, she tried to recreate that feeling every night but failed. She became more and more frustrated. The homeless man was a nobody, a social outcast, and a misfit. Old, ugly, poor, and homeless. He was so far below her status that she didn't even have to recognize him as a person. She had an endless litany of negative things about him. Nonetheless, she could not get him out of her mind. She wanted to feel again what she had felt when he possessed her.

The homeless man had marked her. He had made one flaming-red hickey on each of her boobs. She liked to look at herself in her full-length mirror when she was naked. She had a great body, and she liked how she looked. Every day, she admired how she looked in the mirror. The two marks shone like beacons. They began fading after a week, and after a second week, they were gone entirely. Still, she liked to caress the skin where the marks had been. Sometimes, she realized she was doing it unconsciously, like when she was in bed reading or studying.

Her emotions were a jumble of confusion. She did not know what to feel. The conflicting expectation of being prim and proper during the day and her smoldering needs at night. She understood it was a battle and that she was losing it.

One night, she awoke in the darkness. She had been dreaming, but she could not recall about what. Her pussy was damp and throbbed. Briefly, she thought about the hidden dildo, but she had already used it before falling asleep. She knew what she needed. It was a good night. It was warm, no clouds, and the moon was almost full.

She lay still and looked up at the ceiling. She was not going to fall asleep again. With a sigh, she got out of bed. She quietly stripped naked and padded to her dresser. She pulled out one of the drawers. Everything was prepared -- the white blouse, pink pleated skirt, knee-high white socks, and pink sneakers. She dressed quickly, buttoning two buttons, and tied a knot beneath her boobs. It was painfully clear that she was without a bra. At least the skirt hid that she was without panties.

She brushed her hair and sprayed a bit of perfume between her boobs. She had felt tense all day, but now she felt calmer. The homeless man was a nobody. She could do whatever she wanted with him. She was not afraid of him. Nothing he could do or say could hurt her. The familiar litany of diminishing thoughts about him went through her mind. It boosted her resolve and made her feel in control.

Quietly, she walked through the sleeping residential area. It was night, but the moon illuminated everything, making everything feel eerie. Everything was quiet except a dog that barked somewhere in the distance. The darkness hid her from prying eyes. It made her feel safe.

She felt a mounting apprehension as she approached the parking lot. She crossed it towards the narrow passage between the two buildings where the homeless man lived. She stepped into the passage. She stopped and waited until her eyesight had adjusted to the relative darkness. After a while, she crept forward.

She heard the homeless man's deep breathing after a few steps. Somehow, the sound made her feel reassured. She slowly crept forward and found the homeless man in the same place as the previous times.

She stopped at the edge of his dirty cardboard boxes and looked down at him. He wore his usual filthy rags, and his shoes stood neatly at the boxes' edge. Quietly, she got down on her knees next to him. He smelled bad. She had expected it, but anyway, she breathed through her mouth. She looked at him. His pale, gaunt face looked relaxed in his sleep. His mouth was slightly open. Her nipples were so hard that they ached. She had a dull throbbing between her legs. Her throat was dry.

She undid the two buttons of the blouse and pulled the two halves apart. The blouse was still tied together with a knot beneath her boobs, but they were entirely on display. She leaned forward. If the guy woke up, the first thing he would see was her large boobs hovering over him. It made her feel powerful to perform so lewdly. She felt in control. She was not afraid of him. She could do whatever she wanted.

She leaned in closer until her face was only inches above his. She wanted to humiliate him to strengthen her sense of being in control. The feeling that he was a nobody buzzed around in her head. She worked her jaw to produce spit. Once she had a hefty amount, she let it dribble between his parted lips.

The burning sensation in the pit of her stomach intensified. What she did was so kinky, but she felt an overwhelming need to humiliate him. He was so dirty. She needed to soil him further.

He did not react but slept on. She studied his face only inches away from her own. He continued breathing at a steady pace in his sleep. She worked her jaws again and dribbled an even longer stream of spit into his mouth. This time, he reacted. He took a deep breath and closed his mouth. Laura sat back on her knees. Her heart was beating hard. He shifted around and then became still again. His jaw worked, his mouth full of her spit.

Laura reached out and squeezed his large, bony hand. He woke up with a start. His first reaction was to shy back when he felt someone next to him, but then he saw it was Laura. His eyes widened when he saw her bare boobs. Instinctively, he reached for her boobs, but then he checked himself. They became completely still and stared at each other. The moon was at a different angle compared to previous times, and they were more illuminated and could see each other better.

He stared at her boobs. His hand moved to his crotch and rubbed his dick through his worn, dirty pants. She had the same impression as on the previous times that he moved slowly as if she easily became frightened. He could scare her if he made a sudden movement, and she would bolt. Heat rose on her cheeks. She had not flinched when he made a move for her boobs. She probably would not have pulled back if he had groped her. He might be a nobody, but she was as lewd as him.

She stood up next to him. He looked up at her, and his gaze shifted from her boobs to her skirt as she began undoing it. His eyes widened when she peeled down her skirt, and he saw she was without panties. She straightened up again. Her skirt was in her hand, and his gaze flickered up and down her body. From her boobs to her well-groomed pussy and back again. To tease him, she dropped her skirt on top of his shoes. He made a sharp intake of breath. Her stomach fluttered at how easily she could affect him. On a hunch, she stepped out of her shoes and placed them neatly next to his. He could make whatever he wanted out of her actions.

She stepped back until her back hit the wall on the opposite side of the narrow walkway. She slid down until she sat facing him, in the same spot as the previous times. She let her thighs swing open, flaunting her pussy. The engorged lips parted, and she shamelessly ran a delicate finger along her slippery slit. He rubbed his crotch while watching her play with herself. Neither one had said a word. Laura felt how her orgasm was brewing. She held back. She was here for a reason. The homeless man had done something to her. She wanted to feel how it felt with his cock inside her.

The clinking sound of a belt being undone, and the rasping sound of a fly opening brought her out of a nearly trance-like state. The homeless man stripped off his pants and dropped them on her skirt, lying on his shoes. He was without boxers, and his hard cock wobbled into view. She stared at it in fascination. She had only had a vague impression of it in the darkness of the previous times. She saw it clearly for the first time in the bright moonlight. It was both thicker and longer than her dildo. She stared at it as much as he had stared at her boobs and pussy. It looked alien, appearing fascinating and scary at the same time.

His hand closed around his cock, and he jacked it slowly while watching her. She wanted to look away from the lewd sight but couldn't. There were slick sounds as her fingers ran up and down her wet pussy. Her nipples were so hard that they ached.

The next thing she knew, he was kneeling in front of her. He was so close that she could reach out and touch his cock. She stared transfixed at it. It looked very hard, and it was pointing straight at her.

The homeless man reached between her boobs and tugged on the knot holding her blouse together. Passively, she just let him do it. Once it came undone, she leaned forward and held her arms so he could take it off her. He dropped her blouse on top of his dirty pants and moved closer.

He groped her boobs. Her stomach fluttered when his coarse hands contacted her smooth skin. Her nipples became even harder when he pinched them. He was so excited that his hands were trembling. His breathing came in short, panting gasps. She held still while he caressed her. Her stomach fluttered, and her heart was beating so hard. His barely contained excitement washed over her like a hot wave. It both scared her and made her excited. They were naked except for his grimy sweater and her knee-high socks. He reeked being so close, but she was prepared for the stale smell.

He grabbed her arms by her shoulders and pulled her up like he had done last time. Laura yelped in alarm and struggled. Deep down, she knew what he intended to do and wanted it. But it was scary how he manhandled her. He dragged her over to the dirty cardboard boxes and pressed her down on her back. She whimpered in fright, but her thighs opened wide when he descended over her. She looked down between them. His cock looked menacing and pointed straight at her crotch. A thick strand of clear liquid hung down several inches from his tip. Laura was so innocent that she did not know what pre-cum was and found it strange that his cock was leaking.

She wormed as his body descended over hers. He had a firm grip on her arms and held her down. She was strong from all her gymnastic training but could not break his tight hold. He was gaunt but stronger than he looked. She whimpered. She did not know if it was from fright or from being excited.

Then he changed direction. Before she knew it, he had dived down, so his head was by her thighs. He let go of her arms, and she scrambled backward. But he quickly wrapped his arms around her thighs before she could break free. She did not understand what he intended to do. Then his mouth made contact with her pussy. His disgusting, smelly, toothless mouth was on her most delicate bits. Her mind blanked out for a few seconds from the shock. The hair on her neck stood up in revulsion. She whimpered and instinctively pushed on his head to get away from him.

Her hips rose from the dirty cardboard, making her pussy press against his mouth. She pushed harder on his head, but he held her thighs firmly and hung on to her pussy like a leach.

She felt his disgusting tongue worm between her engorged, slippery folds; the feeling was nothing like she had ever felt. It felt so intense that her arms grew weak and fell to her sides. Her stomach fluttered as she stared down at his head between her thighs. She knew a boy could kiss you down there, but she had never imagined that she would let anyone do it to her. His tongue was busy familiarizing itself with her sensitive folds while her mind struggled to process what was happening. His stinking mouth had latched on to her most intimate part. It was disgusting, but at the same time, she had never felt anything like what he was doing to her.

She wormed her hips to get away, but he had a good hold on her thighs, and his mouth was glued to her pussy. She raised her hand to push on his head. At that moment, his tongue found her clit and circled it. Pleasure shot through her body, and her hips came up by themselves and pressed against his mouth in response. She gasped, and instead of pushing on his head, she ran her fingers into his greasy hair and held him in place. Her head fell back, surrendering to his mouth.

Ten minutes, an hour, her hazy mind did not know how long he continued devouring her pussy. His tongue felt to be everywhere. It ran along her folds or dug deep into her hole. His toothless gum nibbled on her clit. It was so deprived but felt so good. He let go of her thighs when he sensed she had stopped struggling, slid his hands up her torso, and gripped her boobs. He played with them while lapping at her pussy; groping them, and twiddling her hard nipples. Her thighs were over his shoulders, and she pulled on his greasy hair to get him closer.

It took a while for her foggy mind to realize that he had stopped eating her pussy. She had been riding on the edge of an orgasm, but now she came down again. She looked at him with heavy-lidded eyes as he sat up between her spread thighs. Instinctively, she knew what he intended to do. His cock came into view again. It looked big, hard, and intimidating. But now, it did not scare her. She wanted it. She had come to him because she wanted him to put it inside her.

He pulled on his grimy sweater to get it off. She eagerly helped him when it got stuck in his long, greasy hair. He dropped it on top of her blouse. Then he paused, looking down at her in front of him. The heat rose on her cheeks as she felt his hot gaze on her body. His torso glowed in the moonlight. She had forgotten how pale he was. She more sensed than saw his hard cock pointing straight at her. She spread her thighs wider, the invitation to him unmistakable.

He descended over her, holding his cock and aiming for her pussy. She looked down at the tool. She knew nothing about sizes, but he seemed so big in her eyes. He aligned his knob with her opening. She could not resist the temptation and touched his cock. It was rock hard but soft at the same time. She was surprised at how smooth it felt. But he did not give her much time before he pushed inside her with a grunt.

He lay down on her soft body. She twisted her head to the side, scared he might try to kiss her. He pushed deeper inside her. She raised her knees and angled her hips to help him. Her mind reeled. She was letting the homeless man fuck her again. She had come to him. She wanted this. It was filthy depravity, but it felt so good. She should be a good and decent girl. She lived a perfect life and should strive to maintain it at all costs. She should marry Prince Charming and start the perfect family.

Instead, she let a homeless man put his cock inside her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer. Her boobs flattened against his grimy chest. He found a rhythm, pulling back and lunging forward. His cock hammered deep inside her every time. She angled her hips and braced to meet his thrusts.

She had lost herself while he ate her pussy. Now, she was conscious of every thrust of his cock into her. They were so tightly together that she could feel how the excitement grew in his body toward orgasm. She was clinging to him and could feel it when he got close. She was holding back her own almost from the start. She wanted to enjoy it for as long as possible before she came.

The homeless man lost his rhythm towards the end. Laura had an orgasm, feeling like every nerve ending was on fire. He groaned and clutched her hips hard. She felt his cock twitch violently inside her while she was still coming.