Gone Astray

This is the first story I have written. Many thanks to Albaluna who made this story possible. Hope you enjoy it.

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"Damn, why do I put up with this?" Sara thought to herself, lumbering with the two heavy grocery bags under the blazing hot sun.

She was 42, average looking, with an average life. Lately, she found it more and more dull. She was a homemaker, married at 21, with three kids; the oldest of which was now 19. As a mother, it had been hard keeping up with friends, and she had no real hobbies to speak of. Life was mundane. She even thought she looked dull with her tousled brown hair, plain face, and bleak blue eyes. Her body was OK though. Some women were even envious of her slim, narrow waist and long slender legs. She had a habit of working out at the gym at least three times a week, mostly out of sheer boredom and lack of anything better to do during the slow days. Genetics had also blessed her with boobs that were still full and firm despite having children.

Nothing exciting ever happened. Every listless day felt the same. She would become exasperated by even the smallest setbacks and begrudged the monotony.

Like how she ended up in the current mess. The gearbox in the car broke down a few days earlier. It would take two weeks for the repair shop to get a replacement, and she had to do without car.

"That is what you get for driving a foreign car." Her husband told her, irony in his voice.

He had never liked her choice of car. It had been gone three days, and she needed groceries. She could have asked her husband to stop by the store on the way home, but she had instead decided that a walk to the store could do her well. At least it was a distraction from just sitting at home idly.

On the way there, she began regretting her decision. It was blazing hot, and the sun beat down from the sky. She wore a light summer dress, simple cotton with buttons down the front, but sweat trickled down her back as she finally arrived at the store.

She ended up buying a lot more than she intended. She lumbered with two full paper bags while stepping out from the sliding doors.

While crossing the parking lot she saw a young black guy, angling over towards the same sidewalk she was aiming for. She could tell they would cross paths soon, and she suppressed a feeling of irritation. She really did not want to get close to anyone in the muggy heat, but it sure looked like he was going to reach the sidewalk just as she did.

As she feared, he strolled up to her and immediately tried striking up a conversation. Not wanting to be rude, she did her best to discourage him by keeping her greeting brief. He was younger than she had originally thought, maybe 21 or 22, dressed in shorts, a cutoff T-shirt, and trainers. His name was Daniel, and after some polite persuasion, he got her to admit her name was Sara.

"Well, Sara. Why don't you let me take one of your bags?" Daniel asked, smiling at her, showing off a row of perfect white teeth.

"No, I'm fine." She said sounding short, wishing he would go his way.

"How come you don't have a car?"

"In the shop." She knew she was being rude, but wanted to discourage him, feeling sweaty and flustered.

"Ah, pity. Maybe it would be easier if I carried one of your bags. We seem to be going in the same direction." He continued to pester.

"No, I said, I'm fine."

Her irritation grew when he didn't walk away. She was not scared of him, but assumed him to be just an annoying kid.

Sara's parents had given her a strict upbringing. They taught her to be polite and honest to everybody, even if she did not like them. Justine, her only real friend, had always teased her and said it was her greatest fault that she could never really say no. Sara had to admit her friend was right. She would get an almost irresistible urge to please people she was around, frequently promising to help them with their problems, even if her heart wasn't in it.

The youth walked along with her. She tried to walk faster, but it just caused her to sweat more. Daniel commented on how nice she looked. She thought about telling him to piss off, but hesitated, and decided not to respond. She had not put on a bra because of the heat, but now she felt exposed. His frank admiration of her breasts, and their lack of proper coverage, was causing her some serious regret.

When she was not expecting it, he swiped at one of her bags. She let out a cry and tried to get it back from him. He twisted to the side when she reached for it, blocking her. For a brief moment, her left boob pressed against his bare arm. Only the thin material of her damp cotton dress separated them. She saw a glimmer in his eyes that she did not like.

"Give it back to me." She said, erratically.

"Take it easy, Sara."

She tried to grab it again, this time careful not to touch him. He avoided her easily.

"I'm not going to steal it, Sara. Just carry it for you."

"I can carry it myself. Give it back."

She tried again to grab it, but Daniel stepped away.

"Give me my bag!"

"Well, you could ask politely, you know."

She sighed, giving up trying to take it.

"OK, Daniel. Could you please give back my groceries?"

"No."

She closed her eyes. She knew from the pit in her stomach that she really didn't have a choice.

"OK," she admitted in defeat, "but only for a little while."

Feeling embarrassed, she looked to see if any spectators had noticed the humiliating scuffle with Daniel. She didn't want anyone to think that she was associated with him. He seemed like a mischievous brat, and being in his company was not how she wanted to portray herself, even to other strangers.

They began walking again, side by side now, carrying one bag each. Daniel tried to chatting her up. Slowly, he got her to tell him her address. He lived two blocks away from her, in a small apartment complex. It was a pretty shabby area compared to her home.

Daniel's voice echoed with pride as he talked about his apartment and his job as an apprentice plumber. Sara couldn't understand how anyone could be satisfied with such a life.

They continued walking for another block. The heavy bag was really starting to weigh on her, and for a brief moment Sara had to admit that she was thankful she didn't have to carry both. Her dress was clinging to her sweaty skin like sticky wrap. She tried not think about how visible her tits must be having foregone a bra. Daniel wasn't making it easy. He kept sneaking looks at her greedily, and she felt like dying from embarrassment.

Sara could make out two older women walking about a half a block away. Her embarrassment turned to jittery apprehension as she imagined them judging her situation, and misinterpreting her association with Daniel. The anxiety she felt did not stem from some inner disdain for black people. She had nothing against them, but that didn't mean she was keen on being seeing with her current company.

Sure enough, as the women moved closer, Sara could make out their disapproving expressions. She didn't want to know what they were thinking. She looked down in shame and blushed. Daniel was not bothered at all, and continued conversing as if they were alone. Sara wished he would stop.

As they reached the women, Daniel shocked Sara by putting his arm around her waist. Her first impulse was to pull away and slap Daniel, but making a scene right in front of these two women would be horrifying. They would probably assume Sara was in some lovers' quarrel. She discreetly tried to pull away from Daniel, but he held fast. If she pulled more it would be obvious that there was something wrong.

Meekly, she let Daniel keep his arm around her waist. She felt his masculine body move with hers. He recognized that she wasn't resisting, and let his hand settle intimately on her hip. Sara shook her head almost to herself. The two women passed by in silence, but the tension was palpable. Both women were looking at her, dislike plastered on their faces. Not only was he black, he was barely half her age. The damage was done.

It felt surreal to be in such a humiliating situation. Daniel nodded at the two women, brimming with confidence. A few seconds later, before she could break away from his arm, he moved his hand up and cupped her breast.

Outrage burned in her. She opened her mouth to yell, but literally couldn't. It was one of those instances where her mind couldn't process thoughts. His fingers sank into the soft flesh of her swelling breast, getting a good feel of her. She yelped and through sheer instinct, tried pushing his hand away, but he now had a good grip and held fast. She leaned in to shove his chest, and lost her balance almost falling into him. Her hands could feel the strong pectorals of his muscular chest through his shirt. As she tried stepping back, his fingers dexterously searched for her nipple. She was now desperate, and lashed out, crushing the bag she was holding between them.

"Damn it! Daniel, let go of me!" She hissed between clenched teeth, finally finding her voice.

He smiled and gave her breast a couple of final squeezes before letting go. It had not been more than 20 seconds, but it felt like a ton of time had gone by.

Sara shook. How did he dare touch her like that? She fumed. She needed to tell him to give back the bag and then get the hell away from her.

"Jesus, Sara, you don't wear a bra." Daniel said in an amazed voice, interrupting her internal struggle..

She stared at him, almost dizzy, stupefied by his brashness. What right did Daniel have to comment on how she dressed? They did not know each other.

"It's none of your business." She said, defensively.

"Do you often go without bra?" Daniel asked, belaboring the point.

"No," she said, "just give me my bag and let me be."

There was a note of pleading in her voice. He was such a pestering brat. He reminded her of how boys had been when she was in high school. The guys she dated would also pester her persistently, and when she couldn't stop them, she had to fight to keep their hands off of her.

"What's wrong? I'm just trying to be helpful." Daniel said.

"Yea, thanks, but I manage."

She made a move for her bag, but he held it out of reach. Turning on her heal, she started walking away, not knowing what else to do. How had she gotten into this mess? She could hear his footsteps catching up to her, and wondered if he would . give her the bag when they reached his block. It was not too much further. They walked in silence for a while.

"What size do you have?" Daniel asked.

He was impossible to deal with.

"I would never dream of telling you."

More silence.

"I'll give you the bag if you tell me."

She sighed. Just like the high school boys she used to know, he wasn't giving up. Her big breasts, almost perfectly round, and sitting high on her chest were like a curse. They were heavy, yet hardly sagged at all. Without exception, the boys she dated had been fascinated by them. She thought about telling Daniel what he wanted to know. After all, it would be worth it if he left her alone. What harm could it do?

"34D, now give me the bag."

He just laughed at her.

"Just kidding," he said.

She felt her cheeks burn.

Daniel stared shamelessly at her breasts, and she felt herself blush even more.

"You know, I was almost sure you were size D." Daniel kept going.

There was appreciation in his voice. Sara shifted the bag in her arms in an attempt to block her chest.

Daniels eyes lowered to her hips.

"Now, is it only a bra you are without?"

"Of course I have panties!" she exclaimed. She was so undone by the conversation that she was shouting the word panties in the middle of the street.

"Really, what color?"

"Pink," she blurted out, hoping to shut him up. She felt angry with herself. The heat was clouding her judgement.

They continued walking. Daniel didn't ask any other question. Sara walked as fast as she could. When she noticed a man walking on the opposite sidewalk, her heart sank. She worried it might be someone that she knew. She worried that Daniel would try to touch her again. Rumors spread like wildfire in her neighborhood, and she did not want to be the hot topic.

"Pink panties," Daniel reiterated, "that goes well with your dress."

"Can you not talk about my panties?" Sara whispered.

"Sure, no problem, shall we talk your boobs instead?"

"No!" Sara proclaimed.

The man was getting closer.

"I feel you are tense, Sara, don't you like talking to me?"

"I am not tense!" Sara replied, hearing how shrill her voice sounded.

The man on the opposite sidewalk had turned into one of the houses, which was a relief. The next block was where Daniel's apartment building stood. Sara was so close to home. She had never craved to be inside her safe domicile more.

The heat was killing, and she needed to slow down. She had been so occupied by her worries of being seen with a black man that Daniel had to repeat what he had said before she understood.

"It sure is hot today. How about coming up for something to drink before going home?" Daniel asked her.

Sara flatly refused. Daniel strummed his fingers over the grocery bag he was holding. She could tell he wasn't going to give her the bag unless she agreed to a refreshment. Daniel would keep walking with her if she continued towards home, and the risk of someone spotting them together would become higher and higher. Perhaps this was the easiest way to get rid of him. Even more importantly, it would get them off the street where they could easily be seen together by nosey neighbors. Nervously, Sara scanned the street for any sign of life.

"OK," she said, "but then I have to go home."

"No problem." Daniel said brightly, showing her the way with a sweep of his arm.

The building where Daniel lived was worn, and there was a stale smell in the staircase. She had passed the block a thousand times but never had reason to enter any of the buildings. Sara felt uncomfortable. She had been so flustered with Daniel that she jumped at the first opportunity of getting off the street. However, feeling Daniel ogle her ass up the staircase as she walked in front of him, she wondered if she had made a bad decision.

While Daniel unlocked the door, it dawned on her that she was entering a stranger's home. She had never done anything remotely like this in her whole life.

Daniel waved her into the apartment. She felt uneasy as he closed and locked the door behind them. She was not afraid of Daniel. As intimidating as he was, he didn't seem evil, just rambunctious. That being said, she felt it was wrong to be in his apartment.

She could tell he lived alone. It was a one-room apartment, with a small kitchen and a bathroom. It looked like a typical man's apartment. It was messy with stuff lying around, and it gave off a musky smell.

Sara turned around to tell him that she had changed her mind and wanted to go home, but he deftly took the other bag out of her arms and went into the kitchen just as she opened her mouth.

"Have a seat," he said over his shoulder, "I'll be right back with something to drink."

The feeling that she had made a bad choice grew stronger. She checked around the room again. Posters of rock stars and semi-nude girls were on the walls. Again, she thought about the boys in high school and the few times she had made the mistake of following one home. Every time, the boy in question had taken it as an open invitation. Boys' rooms were where she had to defend herself from hands all over her body, on top and underneath her clothes. Her mother had always warned her that sex was bad, and she should avoid it at all cost. However, her mother had also said it was an unavoidable burden she would have to face once she got married. Seeing her mother's dread when she talked about sex, Sara was prepared for the bothersome act.

Sure, her husband had been different from the other boys. He had not been so pestering. That had been one of the strongest reasons why she started going out with him. In fact, he was rather dull, but she had always felt comfortable with him. Now, after 20 years of marriage, he was still the same, working logistics in a factory making lawn mowers. They had sex maybe twice a month, but Sara never really put that much value on it. It had not been as dreadful as her mother had described, but neither was it exciting... It was just something she had to put up with occasionally. Before the children, there had been a lot of foreplay, which she had liked, but nowadays she was lucky to get a kiss. It was more or less the same every time, her husband would indicate he wanted sex and she would pull her nightgown to her stomach, take off her underwear, and open her legs. He would take her missionary style, the only way they ever had sex, fucking her until he came.

Often she thought of him as a sewing machine, fucking at the same speed from start to finish. She would leave her arms around his back, lying passively with her legs were spread. Usually, he had his face buried in the pillow next to her head. They never kissed while fucking. She had found this strange at one time, but gotten used to it. When it came to the actual penetration, it was as if something would lock up inside him, and he became withdrawn inside himself. He became mechanical, humping her until he had an orgasm. Usually it took between 5 and 10 minutes. When he was done he would always withdraw quickly and behaved as if nothing had really happened between them.

This also concerned her in the beginning, but over time she grew to accept it. Now, when they didn't really have any foreplay, she hardly had any time to feel anything last. Listening to her friends talking about sex, she could not understand how they could think it was really worth that much attention.

Sara bit her lip, trying to shed her thoughts. She needed to sit. There were no chairs in the room. There was a couch, but it was the type that converts into a bed and it was unfolded. Gingerly, she sat down on the edge. The very idea of sitting on the unmade bed made her antsy. She contemplated asking Daniel to fold it up, but didn't want to upset him. After all, she intended to leave as soon as possible.

She waited patiently while Daniel made the drinks. Her bags were in the kitchen and kept her from silently sneaking out. Daniel came into the room, carrying two glasses with what looked to be orange juice. He sat down on the bed and gave her one glass. When she took it, he let his hand drop down and rest on her knee.

She winced inwardly, confirmed that Daniel was going to behave just like every immature boy she remembered. She decided her best plan was to empty the glass as fast as possible, and then make a hasty retreat home. She couldn't wait to put this strange experience behind her.

However, when she raised the glass she could smell vodka. Daniel had meant a real drink, not something to rehydrate. She winced again. She was not used to drinking a lot of alcohol, especially midday.

"Don't you just have regular orange juice? It's a bit early for a drink." She said, trying not to sound too impolite.

"I used all the juice making the drinks."

Daniel took a sip and Sara felt obliged to accept her glass. "Cheers." Daniel said when he saw her reluctant acceptance.

Hesitantly, she tasted the drink. There was a lot of ice so it was hard to tell how strong it was. She looked at Daniel who had drained at least a quarter of his glass. His hand was still on her knee, and she felt it beginning to slide upwards. When it was to her thigh, she pushed it down again to her knee. She did not push it away completely, hoping that if he were still touching her, he would settle for what he had and not venture for more.

Daniel was talking nonstop. Repeatedly, she found herself pushing down his hand. He managed to work the hem of her dress up and over her knee. He squeezed her leg while he talked. Sara had drunk maybe a third of her glass, when she began to feel its effect. Daniel was almost done with his drink too. There was no way to keep up with him. It was a hefty dose of vodka in her glass, even with the ice she could tell that much. She was dehydrated from the sun and the heat, and vodka was going directly to her head. She was in a sort of daze, and couldn't shake the feeling that she was in the lion's den.