[As with all of my stories on here, All Rights are Reserved by the Author, except for the (limited) rights given herein to Literotica.]
I live in Los Angeles, but I'm originally from the East Coast, and one of the things I miss the most living here, is the lack of greenery. Oh, there's plenty of greenery if you like over-watered lawns and palm trees, but I mean the real kind. Parks everywhere. That kind. And don't get me wrong, there are parks here, just not the kind of lush ones that are back East.
But one of my favorite parks to go to is called Temescal Canyon, off of Sunset on the West Side. It's one of the canyons that are here and there, that have lots of trees on the lower portions (closer to sea level), but as you hike up them become mostly scrub and desert plants and not trees.
Temescal is slightly different, in that it has not only a nice variety of trees and foliage, but when it rains, has a nice set of waterfalls and creeks running through it. It's not lush like the East Coast, but it doesn't seem like it's in the high desert either.
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I had been walking along for a while, down in the greener parts of the park, while watching all of the younger groups of kids passing me by, disappearing in the distance ahead of me. I was constantly amazed at all the youth that were present on these trails, marching intently along. All the barely clothed girls that grabbed my eyes and didn't want to let them go. fodder for fantasies later, I would sigh.
And then there were the occasional older folks, sometimes in pairs, sometimes in groups, where there were women looking like they were in their forties or fifties, that would storm past me, not looking back.
Now, I may be old. And I'm not the most handsome man around, much less a movie star. And yes, I do have a "few pounds on me," but I'm not drastically overweight. But a lot of the women that I see these days that I would be looking to go out with, are mostly these high-maintenance, high expectation women of a certain age, who are looking for men to take care of them (and not looking for a man to 'take care of'). Forbid you can't keep up with them.
I had slowed down while I was still in the more forested areas of the downhill slope (before the trail took a sharp steep upward trend). I allowed for all of the other people to pass me by as I ambled.
I had just gotten to an area where a small stream wended its way downhill, that during the dry season was only the remnant of a mere former creek-bed (that maybe, sort of, kind of) had a little water flowing down it (if you were lucky). If there had been a good rain recently (like there had been), it flowed along quite merrily. Lucky for me, that was the case today.
I stopped there watching the water flow over rocks and stream, when a lone girl suddenly walked past me, dragging an old hound dog along behind her struggling to keep up, but who was wagging her tail happily nonetheless.
At first glance, this girl looked to be all of seventeen or maybe eighteen.
What was she doing hiking alone in a big park like this
? I wondered. Her old hound dog wasn't going to be any good in helping to fight off any man she might meet here who was intent on doing her harm (unless I was severely mistaken).
But she was not a slender girl, either. She had her dirty blond hair high up on either side of her head in pigtails. And while she was not dressed in the skimpy track wear that most of the other girls wore out here, had cut off jeans that were not quite Daisy Dukes, and a tye-died halter on top.
She was dressed kind of hippy-ish (which was plus points in my book), and she had somewhat broad hips, too. ("I'm a 'hippy'," said a former girlfriend who once described herself as being that because she also had wide hips.) And from what I could see as she walked determinedly past me, she didn't look like she was most guys would consider 'stacked' in the breasts although she wasn't flat-chested either, but was a "big girl" matching her hips.
I must have let my gaze linger just a little too long on her, because she stopped and turned to look back at me, a quirky kind of smirk on her face. That's when I also noticed her "headlights were on" — large thimble-like nipples.
She also had big Janis Joplin-like circular glasses on, and a somewhat roundish face to pull it off with. And I also noticed, somewhat large "doe-like" eyes, although that may have just been her glasses.
I quickly turned my head to look away at a tree, feeling suddenly like a dirty old man, and then looked back, expecting she'd be gone. But she wasn't.
She was still looking over her shoulder, with that curious and delightful smirk on her face. She gave me a wink, and I coughed nervously, like I was a kid that got caught shop-lifting, and tried to look away again.
But I couldn't help myself. I tried to say something, but then heard in my head, "robbing the cradle," and turned to walk in a different direction. Off the trail and into the woods, where I had intended to go anyway.
She's a fantasy
, I told myself, as I quickly felt my rapidly engourging prick enlarging past my comfort level in my pants. I needed to find a 'quiet place' in which to stroke myself off and relieve that tension. Which was what I had also
intended
to do, even before I saw her.
When I had walked sufficiently off the trail and through the brush and trees, I found a nice patch of grass and mossy ground to sit in. Without (what I thought was) fear of interruption, I pulled my shorts down and sat down on a mossy stone by the creek. I grabbed my 'bull' by it's only 'horn,' and began 'wrestling' with it. Hard.
That fantasy that I had just seen looking at me on the trail, came back into my head. I remembered those round hips in those jeans, and then when she turned around, those 'headlights' popping their existence through that halter. I fantasized tugging those shorts off, and untying that halter revealing those headlights for me to nuzzle and chew on, when—
All of a sudden... "Well, hello!" said a golden perky voice that made me jump. Looking up, there was the Cute Girl from the trail, just standing there. How long had she been watching me jerking off?
"Holy shit!" I said, standing and trying to get my pants back up as quick as I could.
"Oh, there's no need to do that!" she said, once more in that little girlish perky voice. Her dog just quirked her head and sat down beside her. "Thinking of me?" she asked with a sound of innocence that had a heavy dose of guile just behind it.
"But," I said, decidedly nervous again. "I'm sorry. I don't want to get into trouble."
She smiled at me, and then proceeded to unbuckle the large buckle of her belt, unsnapped and unzipped those shorts and then pulled them and her panties down. She reached behind her and untied the halter, let it drift down to fall off her body and join her shorts below. "There. Is that better?" she laughed lightly.
Oh, my God
, I thought.
Did I black out and this is some kind of hallucination
?
I saw her nicely full bouncy b-cup breasts and those now much larger thimble sized nipples, along with her large powder puff of curly darker brown hair below her belly. Her 'lower' lips were just barely peeking out, and noticing that, so was my tongue.
"Um," I hesitated to ask, "But — and I know women don't like men asking their age — but," I repeated, biting back my question...
"I'm thirty-two," she said, with a sweet smile. "I only look like I'm seventeen." And then she tilted her head ever so slightly and gave me a sweet, but goofy grin. "And besides, you're only like, what? Forty? forty-five? So you're not really that much—"
Well, I was going to lose her now. "I'm sixty-two," I told her, and waited for the backlash. I prepared myself for her to quickly get her clothes back on, grab her dog's leash, and flee.
Then I saw her chew her lower lip for a few long seconds longer, but she didn't turn and flee. Instead, she finally said, "Well, you don't look it." She dipped her head down a little, and took on a sultry, and very much
not
little girl look. "And I like what I saw."
I know I probably had a really stupid look on my face, but I squeaked, "You did?"
She stepped out of her shorts where they lay, and came over and began kneeling on the ground right in front of me. She pulled my flag pole out of where it had become entangled in my shorts, and then pulled those shorts down and around my knees, and then off. "Yes," she said, with a curiously older look now seething out of her eyes and an even more sultry look on her smile.
She spread her legs further apart, to give me a good view and leaned in and ran her finger up the underside of my now quite erect prick, which gave me a shiver. "See?" she said, and then leaned in further to whisper in my ear, "I'm not exactly a virgin." And then she laughed and added, "I only play one on TV."
She leaned in even further, and placing her hands on both side of my hips, and knee-walked herself into my lap, a mere inch away from impaling herself on me.
"You do like me, don't you... mister?" she said, returning to that little girl pout from before. And then smiling that sultry look once more, "Because I can make you feel like you do, if you're still—" and rubbing her glistening slit up my the underside of my now throbbing steel rod added, " Undecided."
My breathing was now in race horse mode. My God, this was so definitely
not
an 'innocent child,' like she had appeared to be back on the trail. This was
definitely
a woman, and my heart was beating a mile a minute.
"Isn't your dog likely to run away?" I asked, staring into those big eyes.
"Oh, no. She won't run away." And then turning to address the dog, said, "Berties a good girl. Aren't you Bertie?" At which, the dog answered with another head tilting and a not too loud, "Yip!"
Returning her attention to me. "Do you want me to stroke your 'lollypop,' mister? I'll get it nice and wet."
"You're already doing that," I said in a whisper. And then it occurred to me, "And I don't even know your name."
"You don't watch too much TV, now, do you?"
I shook my head slowly, side to side.
She leaned all the way in to my ear, and whispered, "Bernadette."
"Eric," I whimpered to her.
"Hello, Eric." she said, and without warning continued her knew walk up fully and when in place, slid her now dripping wet slit up the underside of my pole, and then instead of drawing it back down to my base, tilted her hips forward and popped it into her velvet interior. Sliding it slowly down, inch by inch to my sharp intake of "Oh, God!"
When she had bottomed out fully and was now fully on my lap, I felt myself hitting her cervix, she asked knowingly, "Is that too much for you?"
Beyond hesitation now, I wrapped my arms around her waist, and moving my hands up to place them on her shoulder blades, drove myself up and in and clamped my mouth on hers, as we began frantically kissing.
