Homeless Man Ch 04

Laura was a good girl. She came from a good family. She went to school and did well. She was 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. Hide it so no one sees 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 pull on her hard nipples and play with that special button on top of her pussy. She felt ashamed bringing herself to orgasm. At the same time, she knew it slowed her racing imagination. It 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, dressing room, or anywhere else where she could be private. Once she was secure, she could tend to her drenched sex.

At night, she had found another way to deal with her rampant feelings. Through a series of unrelated events, the idea that she could use a homeless man struck root in her mind. At night, while tending to her throbbing pussy, the idea grew. He was at the very bottom of society and not even on the first rung on the social ladder. He did not count for anything. She could use him as she wanted. The truth would never come out what she did with him. It was simply too far-fetched. He was perfect.

The sex was even better than perfect. He made her feel everything she had dreamed of with her young, blushing friends. She had found something to quench the burning need inside her.

But she had such conflicting feelings. Everybody expected her to look for a knight in shining armor and keep her virtue until she tied the knot. It was wrong to give herself to a grimy homeless bum. She shouldn't even look at him. However, it felt so right when she was naked on the filthy cardboard boxes. She became so warm when his unchecked desire washed over her like a heatwave. She let him use her body every way he wished, and she only wanted more. Everything he did with her felt unbelievably good.

She liked that he marked her. She felt a sense of connection to him whenever she admired his hickeys. She had felt good when he said she was his girlfriend.

The habit of marking her set in motion a chain of events that Laura had not anticipated. She couldn't show her body to her friends when she changed clothes before and after practice. The individual changing rooms solved this problem. They were built by the demand of stricter parents. Her change of habit attracted Gene's attention. The school's creepy and secretly perverted janitor. What she did, besides showering and changing clothes, quickly became Gene's favorite show. It had only become better when she brought her dildo to help take care of her demanding pussy.

Then, the homeless man disappeared. Sometimes, he was not at his usual spot. It took Laura several days to understand that he was missing. Gradually, over weeks, she realized that he was gone. She went through all the stages. First, she was surprised, then perplexed over where he could have gone, and then bewildered. He had become her release valve for getting rid of her rampant needs, and she had no replacement. She did not know what to do.

While she had to accept that the homeless man was gone, there was a scandal at school. It was the creepy janitor spying on girls, changing clothes. She was so preoccupied that it took her a while to realize that the janitor knew her darkest secret. He had likely seen her do everything, including her dildo. She had been mortified at first. Then she realized that the janitor was an outcast like the homeless man. She was drawn to the janitor like bees to honey. She found out where he lived and that his name was Gene Fernandez.

She had seen him in school. But she only vaguely remembered how he looked. She recalled he was short, overweight, and hairy. Like all her friends, Laura considered him creepy. It became a confirmed truth when he was caught spying on them changing clothes. The intense dislike somehow transformed into curiosity. She couldn't explain why. During the nights, in the private sanctuary of her room, she played out all her fantasies. She used the worn dildo. She imagined herself in the narrow walkway between the buildings near the mall. She was naked on the dirty cardboard boxes. Instead of the homeless guy, she imagined that it was the fat janitor on top of her.

It took her a long time to work up the nerve to knock on his door, but eventually, she did. She only vaguely recalled him from school. But he looked quite close to how she had imagined. He was middle-aged, stockily built, and had a prominent belly hanging low. He had a chubby face. His hair was thin and straight, with a bald spot on top. She did remember well how hairy he was on his arms and hands.

What she hadn't expected was how short he was. Laura did not consider herself particularly tall, but she was five or six inches taller than him.

The homeless man had been gaunt but had towered more than a head over her.

Although her heart pounded, she did not feel afraid of Gene, not even when he locked the door behind her and trapped her in the apartment with him.

The memory of how Gene had felt and sounded as she lay trapped beneath him in his grimy bed had burned into her memory. She had only to close her eyes to recall how his fat, hairy body felt on top of hers. Gene's sweaty frame had felt so different from the unwashed body of the homeless man. The panting breath and sense of unchecked desire had been the same for both men. Likewise, the amazing feeling of silky soft skin and hardness as they pumped inside her was the same.

Laura had been so wet that there were squelching sounds as he moved inside her. Gene had clutched her hips so hard her smooth skin bruised when she came. Her legs had flailed uselessly in the air as he mercilessly plunged into her quivering body. She had clung to his hairy shoulders as if her life depended on it as a tsunami washed through her body. Gene had mumbled vulgar encouragements into her ear. She didn't feel ashamed to make involuntary, lewd sounds deep down in her throat. His relentless cock making her orgasm go on until she nearly blacked out. Her mind had been a hazy bliss when she came to her senses. She had barely the strength to caress his hairy back while he worked himself to completion. He had also made lewd sounds when he came inside her.

Night after night, she replayed the memory in the sanctuary of her bedroom. She used her ugly dildo, but her orgasms were a pale shadow compared to the monster orgasm Gene's cock had produced. It felt good, but the wish to come like that again was steadily growing in the back of her mind.

She sometimes went to the mall to meet friends. She passed the empty spot where the homeless man usually stood. Although she had given up hope, she could not help but feel a twinge of disappointment every time. One night, she sneaked out and checked behind the panel where he hid his backpack, which was still there. It made her worry even more as to where he could have disappeared.

The boys in school showed her the usual interest, but they interested her less than ever. They might be cute or good-looking, but they were so immature. If she let them, they would be content to only make out with her or touch her boobs. She guessed they would come in their pants if she let them put a hand inside her bra.

Instead, she craved Gene's or the homeless man's unchecked desires. They did not ask permission like insecure boys. They subjugated her to their will and took what they wanted. They worshiped her young, sexy body while using her, and it brought her desire to unknown heights.

She had lost interest in her girlfriends' dreamy discussions about boys. They talked about how the perfect boyfriend should be. They all saved themselves for the ultimate experience when they got married. They pictured it as a fairytale with Prince Charming and a princess. They imagined sex as a dreamy experience devoid of all wickedness.

Laura had always felt detached when her girlfriends talked about boys, but this feeling had become stronger than ever. She became disinterested in their discussions, injecting only a word here and there to appear interested.

Unlike her innocent and virgin girlfriends, she knew about sex. She knew how it felt to have an excited man lying on top of her and driving his stiff cock into her body. Her friends were clueless about how heated real sex could be. They could not imagine how sweat mingled when skin rubbed against skin. The excited sounds and the smell of fluids mixing.

Nor could any of them imagine how it felt to be on all four and have a man plunge his cock into her from behind. She could not forget how it felt when the homeless man had taken her like that. The silky soft feeling of smooth cock-skin in her pussy had made her so wet.

He had made her juices drip down the inside of her thighs. He had held her hips in a tight grip. He pulled her ass back to meet his working hips. Gradually, he leaned over her back until he was on top of her, and she had to brace to meet his thrusts. He had groped her boobs, swinging beneath her. He had been rougher on them than usual, but she had been too excited to feel anything but pleasure.

She did her best to hold her ground. But he hammered her forward and down until she was lying flat on her stomach on the dirty cardboard. He cruelly pressed his elbows on her shoulders, and both hands gripped her wild hair. He was gaunt but felt like a ton on top of her when he pressed her chest and head down into the cardboard and came inside her. Somehow, she had found the strength to push her ass high in the air. She had worked her arm beneath her, and her fingers were like a blur over her clit as she came hard.

Her friends didn't know how it was to ride a man. The homeless man had made her straddle him, and it had been so intense. She had become engulfed in the sensation of rising high over him and then sitting down again. The feeling was amazing how his stiff cock invaded her pussy every time. He had been busy groping her boobs while she was caught up in riding him. She had the impression he never grew tired of them.

They could communicate using their bodies instead of words. It was another thing that she was discovering about sex. She could sense what to do to make it feel good in the same uncanny way he could make it feel good for her. She knew what he wanted when she leaned forward and pressed her boobs into his face. She placed her elbows on each side of his head and held still. He latched on to the thin skin on the underside of her boob. The burning sensation when he marked her should have been painful. Instead, it made the heat in the pit of her stomach burn hotter.

He made two large hickeys on her boob before she shifted and pressed her other boob into his face. His hard cock felt so good inside her while he marked her. Her orgasm was mounting, and she was unable to keep her hips still. She ran her fingers into his greasy hair and held him steady while her hips undulated over his cock.

She sat up straight when he was done. Together, they admired his handiwork in the dim light. Several flaming red hickeys adorned her swelling boobs. She had become familiar with having hickeys. She could tell from the color it would be a couple of weeks before they had faded completely. She had to continue using the private changing room for school practice. Not that she had anything against it. The private changing room had become her safe spot outside her bedroom. She felt safe there and used the opportunity every time to rub one out to calm her insistent pussy. She even dared to bring her worn dildo and use it in the secure space of the locked changing room.

The homeless man made her a different woman. Before him, she was often frustrated. She could feel she was burning up inside from suppressed feelings. Everyone around her expected her to behave and think in a certain way. Her parents, friends, school, and church judged her if she deviated. The homeless man was different. He was so far outside her social status and norms that he was harmless. It was safe for her to drop her façade and act on her emotions with him. Once she realized she was safe with him, she could not get it out of her mind. She was drawn to him like a bee to honey. She was innocent and inexperienced. However, she instinctively knew that he could give her what she craved.

The homeless man never hesitated when she presented herself to him. Eagerly, he took everything that she offered, including her cherry. His unchecked desire fueled her own, and he satisfied her in a way that she could not do by herself. After the first time, she was hooked. She struggled with her feelings but was soon back again with the homeless man.

He didn't ask her motives but took everything that she offered. He had corrupted her to the point where she started paying him money for sex. It was so demeaning for someone as young and desirable as her to pay an old, dirty, and smelly homeless man for sex. But at the same time, she was so turned on that her nipples were so hard that they ached, and her pussy was dripping. On the times she wore panties, the gusset was clinging wetly to her when the homeless man took them off.

She was finally at peace with herself, and then he disappeared. At first, she felt surprised. Then confused and finally bewildered. The homeless man had opened a door that could not close again. She wanted sex. She wanted a man, even as greasy and old as the homeless man.

Laura had not realized it, but the homeless man had altered her way of thinking. All her friends were grossed out when the scandal with the school janitor unfolded. They cringed at the idea of him seeing them without clothes. She had at first been upset like her friends. Rumors circulated, but also more details emerged. She understood that the janitor had seen her darkest secret. At first, she was terrified. Then, she realized her secret was safe, as no one would listen to the disgraced janitor.

The janitor had become a social outcast like the homeless man.

Her perception of the janitor changed. Instinctively, she knew that he could give her the same as she had gotten from the homeless man. He might be old and ugly, but so was the homeless man. He was a creep and pervert instead of poor and homeless. But Laura could not get it out of her head that it was socially safe for her to have sex with him. Covertly, she tried to learn more about him and eventually discovered his name and where he lived.

As with the homeless man, she worked up her nerves bit by bit. She had been circling closer and closer to his apartment. It continued until she finally walked up the stairs in a shabby apartment building and knocked on his door.

Gene was a slob and a pervert to the bone. Without shame, he admitted to having spied on her in the changing room and done his research into who she was. He did not hide that he had kept track of her schedule and watched her every time. He even commented about her dildo.

Later, Laura replayed her meeting with Gene in her mind many times. She could not explain why his revelation didn't make her scared or horrified. Perhaps it was the shameless manner in which he told her. But she was unsure. Instead of moral indignation at her lewd behavior, she could tell he enjoyed it and got excited. He had memorized her practice hours and sought her out to see more of her. He was ugly on the verge of looking disgusting, but she felt they had a connection. From what he told her, she knew how he would react when she went into his bathroom and didn't close the door. When he pulled his cock from his sweatpants, she was not shocked by his actions. Instead, she felt reassured. He had needs like she did. He struggled with the same urges. They were the same.

Sex had been like the homeless man. She had been flat on her back, and he had been on top of her, pumping his cock into her slick pussy. His cock had been having the same amazing silky smooth feeling but hard at the same time. It was so much better than the artificial feeling of her dildo. She was in a bed instead of on top of dirty cardboard. The sheet was anything but clean and had a stale smell. There were plenty of crusty spots with dried cum from Gene jerking off in bed. She tried not to think about how it rubbed into her back while she pulled Gene down on top of her.

Gene was different from the homeless man, even if his cock felt the same. The homeless man was gaunt. He was so thin that his ribs showed on his chest. He was also tall. Gene was short, stocky, and fat. His bulging gut had pressed her down into the bed, making her feel trapped beneath him. His thick thighs and fleshy arms added to the impression. The homeless man's skin was sticky with grime from never washing. With time, she had grown used to the rubbery feeling of his skin against hers. Gene was hairy all over. Even his back was covered in a thick mat of hair. He had felt so different when she was clinging to him while she came on his cock. It had been gross, but it had somehow made her orgasm stronger.

Laura became different after meeting Gene. Previously, she had discovered sex together with the homeless man. She acted on instinct rather than experience when she went to him at night. Each time, she learned and discovered something new with him. He was gruesome, especially his smell, but she realized how a man could make her feel. Especially how good his cock felt every time he pushed it inside her. The rubbery feeling of her dildo paled in comparison. He could make her come in a way impossible to achieve by herself.

With Gene, she discovered more things. She found that sex could feel so different with another man. She also learned that a lot of things were the same. Like how amazing his cock felt inside her. Gene and the homeless man's excitement had been the same as soon as she offered herself to them. Neither of them had hesitated like the blushing and inexperienced boys at school. They had eagerly taken her. Their excitement had felt like a hot wave washing over her and fueled her own.

She felt at peace with herself after visiting Gene. She used her dildo every day, and it was enough to keep her emotions in check.

She did not realize it, but she began looking at men differently. She had gained more awareness of men. She wasn't interested in the boys at school but in older men like her teachers, men in church, or men at places like the mall. They looked stern and judgmental on the surface, like everybody else. But occasionally, she discovered something different about some men.

One day in church, she worried she had gotten a snag on her pantyhose. Discreetly, she pulled up her skirt and checked her thigh. There was a small tear, but not too serious. She ran her index finger over it. It should not get worse. She looked up as she pulled down her skirt. She saw a guy further down the pew looking at her. He looked away as if she had caught him doing something wrong. At first, she was surprised by his move. Something about his expression had been not proper. He had not been looking at her in general but at her exposed thigh. It was not in an appropriate way he had looked at her.

She studied him from the corner of her eyes. She had seen him before. He was acquainted with her parents and about their age. His wife was sitting on his other side, and their two children were in between. She had heard his name at one time or another but did not remember. She realized he had the same expression as Gene and the homeless man when they looked at her. Heat spread in the pit of her stomach. The man had dirty ideas about her.