A Wal in the Par

It was a fine October day, a rare confluence of Indian summer and a badly needed Sunday away from the cares of the office. The leaves had already begun to turn, and the maples' red formed a brilliant canopy against a crystal blue sky.

Sandra Johnson listened to the babbling of the brook, hidden in the trees to her left, the rustling of the leaves in the gentle autumn breeze. There was nothing else. No laughing children throwing frisbees to dogs splashing about in the nearby lake. No sonorous drone of cars as they madly streaked down a distant highway to destinations unknown.

Here she could get away from it all. From the prying eyes and the laughter behind her back. She sat down in the moss, which was still not fully dry from the previous night's rain. This was the place of memories. Wonderful moments had been spent here, away from the watchful eyes of the conventional world. Here she could be at peace with herself and her furry friends, not the least of whom, her faithful Rottweiler guardian Max, was at that very moment caressing her cheek with his dripping jowl. This was the one place that she felt safe, her one true haven in life.

Then she heard it. The sound of a snapping twig. She turned her head to see them stepping our from behind the trees where they had been hidden. There were three of them. The biggest one had a scruffy half-grown beard and a rather nasty looking scar running down the side of his face. He wore a red plaid lumberjack shirt. His companion to his left sported a Harley Davidson T-shirt with the sleeves cut off. His arms, thick as most men's thighs, bulged with muscles. His tanned forearms were stained with streaks of black grease. Probably the result of long hours working on his bike, Sandra surmised. The third was shyer. He was thinner than the other two and had the dark dreamy eyes of a poet. He seemed reluctant to be here, as if he had just come along for the ride and now found himself in a situation beyond his control.

They advanced on her slowly.

"You know what we want," the big one said. Max ran up to lick the giant's hand. So much for the protection theory, Sandra thought.

"First of all, take off all your clothes. Real slowly," the muscular one in the Harley T-shirt said. "Danny here likes his women large. But he's never seen one up close before. He's kind of a virgin, he is. Put on a good show for him."

Sandra looked into the eyes of Harley-Davidson and Paul Bunyon. They meant business. Unlike poor Danny, whose eyes were apologetic, but roved over her whole body in eager anticipation nonetheless.

She decided it was in her best interest to do as they said. She slowly unbuttoned her blouse and carefully placed it on the mossy carpet of the forest. She reached between her breasts to unhook her red bra. Her massive 48DD boobs spilled out, giving Danny an eyeful to contemplate. She could clearly see the bulge in his pants.

She took off her shoes and socks and unzipped her jeans, pulling both them and her lacy black underwear down over her ankles. She stepped out of them and tossed them onto the moss next to her blouse. Then she stood naked before the three men, her entire body exposed to them.

"What do you think, Danny my boy?" the giant asked the nervous lad, the scar in his face moving back to make room for his beaming smile. "Have you ever seen a pair like that? And look at that flesh. So much of it. And so smooth. I bet you can't wait to get your hands on that."

Danny gulped and stared at her in response, his eyes roaming from her dark wide nipples to the black triangle of her crotch.

Max sat down to chew a flea on his rear end.

The one in the Harley-Davidson T-shirt pulled some rope from his backpack. "We should tie her up," he said. "How about to that birch tree over there?"

"OK lady," the big one said, "you heard Darryl. Walk over to that birch tree and put your hands behind you."

Sandra slowly walked over to the birch tree, trying to ignore the pine needles and rocks cutting into the skin of her bare feet. She backed against the trunk of the birch, feeling its rough bark against her bare ass and back.

"Help me, Danny," Darryl said, tossing the shy boy a rope. Danny came over to help Darryl stretch the rope across the tree as Sandra's arms were tied behind her.

"Now help me get her legs," said Darryl as he tied a knot tightly around her ankle. He passed the other end of the rope to Danny, who ran it around the tree and tied it to her other ankle. Now Sandra was secured tightly to the tree, bound wrist to wrist, ankle to ankle, naked, spread eagled and defenseless.

Max snapped at a slow October fly that was buzzing around his nose.

"I want her first. Get her ready for me. I'm really horny today," said Darryl.

The big one came over to Sandra and ran his finger down her nose, over her chin, down the flesh between her boobs, over the sensitive skin surrounding her bellybutton and all the way to her crotch. He rubbed her clit and inserted his fingers roughly into her. Then he took her massive right breast into his mouth and began to suck it vigorously, running his tongue around and around her erect nipple as he squeezed her boob with his large, callused right paw. With his free left hand, he beckoned to Danny. He briefly pulled his lips off Sandra's teat. "Come on over, there's plenty more for you," he told the reluctant lad. "There's far too much here for one man to handle."

Danny looked up into her eyes as the he took her left breast into his mouth. Soon both men were sucking wildly at her teats.

In the meantime, Darryl had peeled off his Harley T-shirt along with the rest of his clothes. His muscles gleamed in the early afternoon light. Sandra marveled at the length of his erect penis. He was as horny as advertised. He came to her naked and knelt on the moss before her, burying his face in her furry crotch. His tongue reached out to probe her cunt and swirled around the sensitive lips of her nether mouth. He lapped her clitoris and buried his face in her mound, his muscular arms gripping her naked buttocks as he pressed his face even tighter against her. The other two men continued to devour her breasts, their heads pressing into her flesh. Despite herself, Sandra was on fire. She wanted Darryl inside her, to feel the steel of his prick ramming its way into her cunt.

She did not have to wait long. Darryl stood, his tongue leaving her crotch, running up the soft flesh of her abdomen, between her breasts, up the length of her neck until it entered her mouth at the exact second that Darryl's prick pushed its way into her vagina. She abandoned herself to the pleasure, sucking Darryl's tongue as he thrust in and out of her. She could feel the ribbed muscles of his abdomen rubbing against the soft mounds of her flesh as he pumped her and pumped her and pumped her.

The walls of her vagina were on fire and she felt them squeeze as she was about to come, milking Darryl's penis, clenching it as it exploded inside her. She felt all the muscles in Darryl's body shudder as he came, and she breathed in his snorted breath as he clutched her body tightly to his in his final spasms. She kissed him wildly and then released his tongue as he melted off of her, crouching naked on the moss, his firm thigh muscles rocking back and forth.

Thank god for birth control pills she thought.

They took her down from the tree. She fell on her knees when they untied her, the moss cool against the bare flesh of her leg. She found herself kneeling at the feet of Paul Bunyon and looked up his trunk at the red, splotchy neck beneath his grisly beard. The scar on his face looked like a valley plowed on a distant lifeless planet by a vengeful meteorite.

"You know what to do," he said.

Sandra fumbled at the zipper of his pants, conscious of her own nakedness. She could feel that he was hard within, the result of suckling at her Earth mother's breast. She pulled down the front of his jockey shorts and he sprang free. He was large, easily nine inches, and as thick as a bratwurst. She looked up one last time at his granite face before she took the head in her mouth. She ran her tongue down the length of his shaft and over his balls. Then she ran it underneath his balls before coming again up the length of the shaft to impale her head upon him.

He reached down to grab the hair on both sides of her head as he thrust violently into her. She gagged but swallowed him, letting him fuck her throat, her esophagus. She swirled her tongue around him as he battered his way into her mouth, clenching her head to his throbbing organ as if it was his long lost mother's breast.

"Get her ready for me. You know what I want," the big man told Darryl as he thrust even more violently into her mouth.

"Whatever you say, Jake," the muscle-bound motorcyclist said from somewhere behind Sandra.

She heard Darryl reaching into the backpack again and then she suddenly felt his tongue on her ass, working its way deeply into her anus as she sucked the giant's pulsing prick. She could feel Darryl's balls against her naked ankles and his muscular thighs against her own more opulent flesh. Then she felt the coolness as Darryl began rubbing the jelly into her ass.

"OK, that's enough. Turn her around. I can't wait no more," Jake said. "Take down my pants," he told her. She obliged.

Darryl and Danny disengaged her from the giant's prick and turned her around, placing her arms on a decaying log. Her head was bent down, and she gripped the log in anticipation of the onslaught.

Jake rammed his way into her asshole, and she arched her back to accommodate him. She found herself face to face with Darryl's incredibly rising prick, which she eagerly took into her mouth. As Jake assaulted her ass, she heard Max suddenly rise. The Rottweiler bounded toward Jake's ass. Its huge maw was wide open, exposing three inch fangs. The dog charged the giant and seized his balls in its mouth. Its canine tongue was soon lapping at Jake's balls and ass as if at the face of a long lost friend. So much for the guard dog theory, Sandra thought once again.

The attention Jake was receiving from Max's tongue spurred him to ram his way even more deeply into Sandra's colon. Fortunately, she was used to accommodating large men in that particular passage, so Sandra backed into him even as she sucked more vigorously at Darryl's prick, while he clasped her head to him and stroked her hair. Max suddenly took Jake's balls fully into his mouth and squeezed his jaws down upon them. Jake felt his balls contract as they brushed against the ivory of the dog's fangs and he exploded inside his hostess at the same time that Darryl filled the other end of her alimentary canal with a second massive wad of come, all three of participants in this particular piece of Bacchanalia arching their backs and collapsing on the mossy carpet of the forest.

"Where the hell were you guys last week?" asked Sandra finally after she had regained her breath. "I was here. Two o' clock, right on the hour as usual. I waited for you guys, but you never showed."

"Sorry, Sandy. Darryl got a special invitation to the national dirt bike trials and I went to be his mechanic. We would have called you, but you won't give us your phone number. Or even tell us your last name."

"It's better this way," she said. "But you'll be here next week won't you? I really missed you last time."

Darryl reached over with his bulging right arm and drew her head to his shoulder. "We wouldn't miss this for the world," he whispered softly, gently kissing her on the lips.

"And who's the new guy?" she asked them indicating Danny, who was hanging back on the periphery of the clearing.

"That's Danny," Jake said. "He's a little shy with girls. A virgin actually. We were hoping maybe you could help him out, that is if you're not too tuckered out."

"Who, me? You know me, Jake. I don't tucker very easily."

"Hi Danny," she called out to the reluctant boy, whose face was hidden in shadows. "Come on over here. I won't bite."

The young man came over and Sandra, still sitting on the mossy floor of the woods, reached up to unzip him. She rubbed the front of his thighs as she took him in her mouth. She would make it nice for Danny. She wanted him to come back.

She dearly loved her Sunday walks in the park.