Lincoln Legs

(All characters in this story are at least 18 years of age.)

Sometimes a man's path of action is planned out over days, or weeks, or months, and follows well-practiced steps to an anticipated place. And other times...

When I got out of the car at Oakwood Mall on that Saturday afternoon in June, I had no thoughts for adventure, risk, pleasure. I just needed to go to Sears and buy a couple of tools. I entered the store and as I passed through the menswear department towards hardware, two young girls were coming the other way, and turning right, towards the Misses' clothing section. One of the side benefits of going to a mall in the summertime is the sight of large numbers of lovely young things in abbreviated clothing, and this was one example, and a stunning one. The brunette's impossibly short dress gave an enticing view of two perfect smooth and toned thighs, and the blonde wore short white shorts that highlighted her own long, tan, gorgeous legs.

I almost lost my breath. Women are beautiful in all shapes and colors, and in every aspect of their bodies, which are all slight variations on a template of perfection. But if I had to choose one part of them, apart from their endlessly captivating, devotion-inspiring faces, it would be their legs. They are the road to heavenly enlightenment, the foremost reason for the sensitivity of fingertips, the pillow to soothe the head of the soon-to-be-damned. Soft and pliant, yet the source of a raw voltage that routes a charge straight to my cock and causes my whole surface to tingle. And, as God is my disapproving but understanding witness, these were four of the most delectable legs I had seen in years.

I had a moment more to notice that they also had beautiful faces, long flowing hair, and fit, feminine physiques. But the girls strode by rapidly, lost in gossip, and the moment passed. I went to buy my tools. I'm not too old to enjoy a view like that, but in much the same way as one enjoys a sunset: bask in it, thank God for the beauty, and forget it by dawn.

I mentioned adventure at the start of this story, though, and make no mistake, it was right around the corner. On the way back from making my purchase, I strayed off to look at a shirt that grabbed my eye, only to find myself one aisle over from our young lovelies. I could hear their conversation.

"Put it back, Amy. It rocks, but we don't have that much."

"We could get more money from Mom."

"Ohmigod give me a break. She'd ask to see what cost so much, and no way she's gonna say OK to a halter top. And if she didn't see it first, she'd ask you to show it to her later, and that would be the last you'd ever see it."

"OK Zach then."

Laughter. "We owe him how much already? He's either gonna laugh us out of the room, or tell us we've gotta do stuff I don't even want to think about while he sits and plays with his joystick." More laughter. "Er, you know what I mean. No go on the bro."

"Well shit, we can't leave this here. I've got to have this."

Here was the moment at which fate asks us to choose a road. And I chose without thinking of the danger, without thinking at all, really. If it is true that we are a self-indulgent people these days, I was no proof to the contrary that day. I did a boundlessly foolish thing, for the thrill of doing it, and for the promise of more thrills than I could probably handle. I moved to the end of the row they were shopping in, cleared my throat, and said:

"Excuse my interrupting you, but I overheard the problem you've got, and I always like to try to help people if I can. You need money, right away, and I have some. I think we can help each other out."

I'm sure the clerk could hear every word, but I didn't stop to worry about that at first. I was much more interested in the reaction of the girls, which was:

"What do you mean? Who are you? Were you listening to us?"

It was the last question that mercifully forced a bit more caution into my approach. I gestured for them to step a little ways away, behind a rack of shirts and tops on sale, and said quietly "I can give you each $100, and you can do whatever the hell you want with it, I don't care. I just need one thing from you in return."

They glanced at each other, and then back to me. They were listening.

"You have to let me touch your legs."

They looked at each other wide-mouthed, and then laughed. A little too loudly for my comfort, the brunette said "You creeper, hell n-" But two things stopped that exclamation. One was the sight of the two $100 bills I was beginning to pull out of my billfold. And the other was the touch of her girlfriend on her arm, a touch that said "pause and think first". Naturally the idea as stated was weird to them, but I guessed that being touched by guys was probably not so alien for beautiful young things such as these, and there was that one dominant aspect of the proposal that shadowed the rest of it.

"$100", I repeated. "Each."

She shook off the touch, but the blonde quietly said to her, "Why not? It's easier than what my brother is going to make us do. What's so bad? He just said 'touch'."

"That's all I said. Look, I'll leave you alone to think about it. If you agree, then come out and find the gold Lincoln parked by itself under a lamppost at the far edge of the lot, here by the Sears." I let them get one more look at the bills in my hand, and turned to go. Out the door I went, and out to the car. Every step, I expected a hand on my shoulder, or a voice. "Sir, Mall Police, I'd like a word....Sir, stop right there for a moment please...There he is, Dad." But nothing happened, and I got in the car and moved it out to the extreme edge of the lot, under a lamppost.

Where had this whole plan come from? I could not remember a single moment of thinking it through. The entire thing was spontaneous, driven by some usually quiet part of my brain.

And it was dangerous as hell. My adrenalin was running. All it would take would be for the girls to tell someone about the car, and I'd be done. For what? For the chance of a few moments of pleasure?

Yes. For the chance of a few moments of the highest pleasure possible on earth, of the culmination of an unreachable fantasy, of feeling like a prince with the most delectable women in the land available for idle fondling with a simple gesture. I moved to the middle of the back seat, laid my head back and closed my eyes for a minute, and wondered whether when I opened them I would see paradise or doom striding over towards the car. Or nothing, most likely. I figured I'd give it 20 minutes, and then go home. But after only five, here came fate strolling towards me...

Paradise. The delightful sight of the four beautiful legs, making their way towards my car.

As they came alongside the car, one on each side, they leaned over to glance inside, to make sure this was the right one and I was in it. As they put their hands on the door handles, they hesitated once more, looked at each other over the roof. I couldn't see their expressions, but finally I heard one say "we need it", and they got in. They took the front seats, brunette on the driver's side and the blonde on the other, but I pointed out that this was not really going to work, given what they were agreeing to do. I had to have access to their legs. I told them to climb over the seat, which they did, allowing me terrific views of their young cleavage, the brunette's in a loose yellow and light blue sundress that fell away from perfect skin here and there, the blonde's in a tight white spaghetti-strap cami-style top that clung to and clamored about the charms within. I also admired the curve of their hips as they maneuvered over, and each gave me a splendid view of a thigh as they turned to sit.

It took me a moment to find my voice. "What are your names?"

"Brandi" said the brunette, and Amy was the blonde. I didn't need to know, and they didn't need to tell me, but I wanted to loosen up the mood just a bit, and it gave them a moment to be a little less focused on what they'd decided to do. Both then sat silently and clearly unsure and nervous.

"Before we get started, let me just make a quick visual comparison. Each of you put your legs across my lap, with your feet next to the other. I won't touch right away, just look." The girls complied. Again, it may have seemed like something that delayed the moment of truth. But that was a misapprehension.

Amy's legs were a bit more tan, a bit thicker, and longer, with beautiful feet in some sort of woven sandals with wooden heels, and exquisitely smooth in appearance all over the upper thighs, where they delightfully ducked into those ridiculously short shorts. The calves were fit and smooth and the thighs were of heavenly proportions. I could not stop staring....until my eyes fell on Brandi. The most beautiful thighs I had ever seen disappeared under an invitingly short dress, and they moved up and down as she shifted and tried to get comfortable.

Large sectors of my reptilian brain were shouting that I was to mount this delicious mate immediately, but I fought them down somehow. I did gape a bit, though, I fear. Toned calves of just the right length proportional to the thighs, and feet in dangling flip-flops. I noticed with a start that the near leg had decided to rest in a position that left it on top of my cock, which being as hard a steel must have been fairly easy to detect, I'd have thought, but the leg did not shift, so maybe not.

There weren't four more delectable thighs in the whole county, but here were these, all of them so bare, so close I wouldn't have to extend my arm to touch them. And space was limited, so the legs couldn't avoid rubbing against each other.

This time it was I who needed a brief distraction, and to cool down for a moment I focused on removing their shoes and dropping them down on the mat. This was not specifically part of the agreement, but no one complained. But now, with my arms across their legs and no further reason for dawdling, the moment was here. I stroked one of Brandi's feet, and trailed my finger up the ankle and onto the calf, where I alternated between caressing and lightly squeezing. The expression on her face was like that of three Brandis blended together: a young one who was a scared, a girl her own age who was unsure how she got into this but unsure how or whether to stop it, and a woman who was starting to notice that this felt pretty damn good.

I worked up the one leg, stroking the calf and evoking some nervous giggles, touching the back of the knee and eliciting a small ticklish gasp, and then reaching the El Dorado of my wild fantasy: I was feeling up a young girl's thigh, and she was going to let me for as long as I cared to, while her gorgeous friend looked on and waited her turn. I got both hands into it now, my left on the outside of her thigh, softly clutching a big handful and gradually squeezing and releasing, while my right circled its way up higher on the inside, as the skin got softer, and softer...she began to squirm a little, and while it didn't change what I did one iota, it did have an effect: her short dress began to ride up towards her hips, revealing a hint of white panties.

"That's, that's too...." she started to say – I'm not sure what was trying to come out next - "close"? – but I said this is all part of the leg, and that was our deal, I could touch your legs. But I shifted away from the intimate inner thigh I had been moving in on. The right hand joined the left in softly gripping the top of her thigh, feeling the athletic muscle and platonic ideal of shape, squeezing and letting go, gently massaging. But gradually the hands wandered. Left slipped underneath and similarly squeezed and rolled the perfect flesh there with its fingertips. Right resumed and expanded its explorations and soon found itself on the other leg, the left one resting against the back of the front seat. Then it found itself reaching up a bit farther to where the dress hem had been before its retreat, and farther, under, almost touching the place high on her hip where her panties came around her side to her rear.

Again she uttered, a little breathily, "Wait, I didn't say under the dress..." but again I said "That's still your leg, there. Near, below or under your dress, it's all fair, as long as I'm touching leg. I tell you what, let's change up a bit. Lift your legs straight up, and I'll touch the backs of your legs instead."

I think if she had thought about this, she might have demurred, but she was a little shaken up by my fiddling underneath her dress and on her inner thighs, and I think it seemed like a retreat on my part.

Heh, heh.

While she shifted I stole a look at Amy. She was utterly mesmerized. Her wide eyes were locked onto the scene before her, her legs were rubbing together slowly, her hands were trying to be discrete about how they were pressing and rubbing her chest, or so it seemed to me. Under any other circumstances, I would have dropped everything to look after this goddess, but I still had some treasure to collect on the other side of the seat.

I turned back to Brandi, who had raised up her legs as suggested. Here before me now were the wondrous back sides of the two most gorgeous thighs in my long experience...and, peeking out at me, a bit of her underwear, between her inner thighs. I began to stroke again, feet that were brushing the roof, ankles, calves, knees, and the stunning backs of her thighs, in long loving strokes, my index and middle fingers trailing along softly here and there, and occasionally pressing, circling just a bit, and as I did this, she let out a sigh that nearly sent me over the edge, a sigh that said we had crossed a bridge, the nerves were gone, conquered completely by pleasurable sensation. Hearing this beauty release that sound validated everything in my whole life that had led me to this divine moment.

My fingers enjoyed every subtle aspect of the surfaces of those thighs, every hint of a swell of muscle, every minute change in softness, and I began to shift gradually to spend more and more time on the upper part of the backs of her thighs, and on her inner thighs, and began to come daringly close to the edge of those panties. I could now see the lower half of them on her ass, and as her thighs began to slightly part, like the golden gates of paradise slowly opening to admit a sinner redeemed, I began to see her crotch, the inviting triangle of soft fabric, with the faintest hint of lips pressing into it from within. And I began to close in. Inch by inch. Movement by movement. And now I was actually running my fingertip along the edge of the panties. And now, and now,

Now I withdrew my hands and turned to the lovely Amy, waiting and squirming. I would love to say that I was a paragon of restraint and technique, a man of steel will, that I enjoyed and enticed Amy just as slowly and artfully as I had Brandi, but it just isn't so. I spent a few moments below the knees, but it was the thighs I wanted, and I practically dove at them. And as I began to touch them, she started to spiral out of the trance she had been in and breathe rather heavily. These were absolutely splendid legs I was handling, gorgeous in proportion and gradual curves, a beautiful golden color like a delicious biscuit hot out of the oven, soft, oh god so soft to the light touch, and divinely smooth. As soon as I got a little bit high on Amy's inner thighs – high in more senses than one - her legs shot open fairly widely, and it was all I could do not to kiss, to nibble (hmm, no one said touching only with fingers...).

But instead, somehow, I turned back to Brandi and set in on her thighs, which were now loosely open and akimbo over my legs. Once again I experienced the delirious joy of stroking and touching and cupping and massaging these wonderful God-given thighs. And my fingers slid and circled and dabbled until they were once again encroaching on the edge of the panties, and sliding along, feeling here and there a little roughness of some pubic hair, another intimacy breached. And there was no move to stop me, or redirect me, or shove me off and say that's it, it's over.

And now I had actually put my fingers on her panties, right over her no-doubt-beautiful quim, and I had begun to gently rub. And no one said a thing. She had her head back, her eyes closed. Looking at Amy, I saw that her eyes were locked on what I was doing to Brandi's pussy through her panties, and her hand was clasped between her own thighs, tightly, and moving a little. No doubt the hand felt the same moisture that I was feeling though Brandi's underwear. Gently, I rubbed Brandi intimately, and beads of sweat began to gleam on her arms, her cheek, her upper lip. She shuddered slightly, deliciously, her eyes closed so that nothing could distract her from the feelings sweeping her away. Her hips began to thrust and circle slightly, begging for what her whole body wanted now. I worshipped every inch of this beautifully made goddess, and profoundly thanked whatever powers had made this moment possible.

My left hand now slid down the back side of her splayed right thigh, and under her panties to squeeze and caress the right side of her ass. I took my other hand away from its Shangri-la valley to make its next move, and she quickly grabbed it and tried to force it back. But I won free, and once again lay my hand on her inner left thigh. Oh god, the softness, trembling. And then to the softest point of all, just outside the panties, and then, a fingertip under, and then I pulled the panties aside to reveal an exquisite puss, a delectable mound with fine soft hair and smooth lips unfolding slightly to show a bit of her inner pink temple, the hooded clit enlarging and begging for attention.

And at that moment, to my surprise because I had not been paying any attention to anything else, I felt a hand gently clasp my raging cock through my shorts, then slowly rub each of my balls. And then my zipper was coming down, and my underwear pulled down in front as well, and then followed the unbelievably thrilling feeling of an eager teenaged mouth sliding a tongue over my cock, while I reveled in the most beautiful pussy I'd ever caressed.

And although my usual impulse is to take my time, I simply could not help myself, and bent to the feast. I licked and nibbled here and there, and then with a rhythm, and inserted a finger, then two, which began to meet that rhythm in and out, in and out. And finally I touched, then nudged, then licked at, then so-gently nipped and sucked that lovely clit, then faster and faster, and her whimpers turned to soft, high, prolonged cry, and her writhing locked for a moment, a moment in which she forced my head to her with her hands and graced my cheeks with her beautiful, clenching thighs.

At the same time, across a million miles at the other end of the back seat, Amy was running her lips and tongue up and down along the underside of my cock, and driving me to a state in which my brain shorted out, every muscle in the middle of me clenched, and the orgasm my cock had always dreamed of soared up and out and into that young darling's soft giving mouth.

I lay with my head resting on Brandi's thigh for several minutes, unable to move or think. The pleasure took forever to subside, and I was still tingling in my toes when I realized that the sweetheart now lazily and softly running her fingertips up my still half-hard cock had had no attention paid to her. I determined that this had to be fixed, and looking at her smiling at me, her back against the back of the front seat, her thighs spread and her hand on my cock, it was only moments before my interest was again at peak. This girl was simply exquisite. Her eyes were long-lashed and arctic blue. Her long blond hair now trailed strands across her face and fell enticingly over and down her shoulder, onto the cami top that held perfectly shaped medium breasts, their nipples now rigidly declaring their desire. Her toned belly was framed by an edge of pelvis on each side, pointing under her absurdly short white cutoff shorts, stretched taut by the way she was sitting with her thighs apart, the left one folded up near her chest, the other lying flat across my knees.