Accident

I was short on milk and so I decided to nip down to the shop to get some. Now the only thing I needed was the milk and it was a very pleasant day so I decided that I wouldn't bother using the car. It would actually be faster to grab my old bike, cut through the path to the new road, and zip straight down to the shop. Going by car I'd have to travel five times the distance.

So there I was, free-wheeling down the hill, when this whacking great car came screaming around the curve, aiming straight at me. I didn't stop to argue right of way, I just abandoned ship, throwing myself to the side. I skidded along the road but fortunately my jeans stopped any gravel rash, although the sound of asphalt scaping against your helmet is a very nasty sound to hear.

My bike vanished under the wheels of the car, which was rather unfortunate, but sooner it than me. I scrambled to my feet feeling rather hard done by, looking for the author of my woes. He was getting out of the car and didn't look too pleased.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, which I suppose was considerate of him.

"No," I snapped, "no thanks to you. Why the hell did you have to pick this road to practice driving on?"

"I am an excellent driver," he snapped in return. "I can't be held liable for some idiot cycling in front of my car. You do know cars use the roads, don't you?"

"Not this one," I pointed out.

"But here I am," he retorted in a rather snide voice.

"Which brings us back to my original question, why? Hunting for small game you can run down? If you're not just practising to drive I can't think of any reason you'd be here."

"I'm just passing through. People do that you know, drive down roads on their way to other roads."

"People who drive down roads on their way to other roads don't drive down this road. It doesn't lead to any other roads. Normal people read a map and follow roads that actually go somewhere."

"This road joins up with Rosemont Avenue," he kindly explained.

"Not yet it doesn't," I just as kindly explained. "It stops a hundred yards short. That behemoth you drive won't fit down the track that runs through to Rosemont."

"Excuse me?" He sounded a little nonplussed.

"They ran out of money," I told him. "They'll budget extra next year so they can finish it off. Until then no-one uses this road. They even have a temporary dead-end sign at the start of the road."

I smiled, having won the discussion in my opinion. He was obviously totally in the wrong over the whole incident.

"Can I have your insurance details, please?" I asked.

"Why? You're not hurt and there's no damage."

"You've destroyed my bike," I pointed out, pointing to the mangled mess under his wheel. "I'll have to buy a new one now. And I'll need to buy a helmet. I wouldn't trust using this one again."

I held it up to show the rather nasty scrape on the side of it. It made my stomach turn over thinking what would have happened if I hadn't had the helmet on. From the look on his face he was imagining it too.

"And you expect me to pay? I have to admire your chutzpah, but the accident was entirely your fault?"

"Really? I wasn't driving too fast on a dead end road. If you'd taken the next bend at that speed you'd have found yourself facing a tree that wouldn't jump out of your way. You were actually quite lucky I was here."

"If I'd been any luckier I guess I'd have been washing your blood off my car. Either that or recovering from a heart attack."

Sarcastic swine. I just grandly ignored what he said.

"Whatever, there was an accident and I require your insurance details," I told him. "You're required by law to give them to me. We can let the insurance company decide on who's to blame."

I actually had him cold. His excess would be more than what I was claiming and the insurance company would just dump it on him, and they'd probably increase him premium for having been in an accident. If he went to court over it his legal fees would outweigh the damages I was claiming. It was lose all the way for him. I gave him a nice sunny smile.

"You're really an insufferable brat, aren't you," he observed in a dry voice.

"Hey, be fair. I'm only trying to get justice and recompense for my lost bike and damaged helmet. It's not as though I'm asking for damages for physical pain and the emotional trauma of nearly being run down by a dangerous driver. And at twenty I think I'm a bit old to be considered a brat."

He turned and looked at the remains of my old bike. The only things bright and shiny about it were the scratches caused by the accident. The paint was faded, the chrome non-existent, rust aplenty, with the rust probably all that was holding the frame together.

"I really think that you should give me five bucks to take that excuse for a bike away," he scoffed. "However, in the interests of 'fairness' I suppose I could give you fifty for the bike and fifty for the helmet, although I doubt that you'll actually bother to replace either item."

"Of course I'm going to replace them," I snapped. "How am I supposed to get around without my bike? And, really, what sort of bike do you think I can get for fifty? I think a hundred minimum for a reasonable bike."

"Why should I pay a hundred for a reasonable bike when you didn't have one to start with?"

"It's not the money," I said haughtily. "It's the principle of the thing. You broke it so you should pay for it."

"So you expect me to give you a hundred and fifty and we agree that everything is finished?

I smiled and gave a gracious nod of my head, confident that I'd won.

"The trouble is that that solution doesn't take into account your own liability. I think you'll agree that the accident was at least partly your fault. Yes?"

For some reason he was looking all around as he spoke. I had no idea what he expected to see as there wasn't anything around but trees. Whatever, I didn't deign to answer him. He was going to give me the money just to be rid of the nuisance factor.

He started smiling, and I suddenly felt slightly nervous. He was planning something.

"To be equitable we really need for both of us to contribute something to the settlement. How about I give you the one fifty and you drop your jeans and lean over the car seat?"

My eyes opened wide at that comment. He had to be kidding.

"Are you kidding?" I screamed, and I mean screamed. "Do you really think I'll let you. .?" My voice trailed away indignantly, not knowing what I wanted to say.

His smile just grew bigger as he produced his wallet and extracted three fifties.

"Yes, I do," he said, sounding very happy. He stepped closer to the car and opened both doors on the passenger's side. Then he gave a grandiloquent wave towards the front seat and I realised that the open back door was to provide a little privacy if anyone came along.

I just stood there, trying to come to terms with what he wanted. He was a big man, not even middle-aged yet, and not unhandsome. He looked as though he was quite fit, too. And he was holding those three fifties in plain sight.

"Oh, come on. You don't really think that I'll do that," I protested, knowing even as I spoke I was considering it and wondering what it would be like. I mean, I wasn't a virgin but I'd never done that sort of thing with anyone but my husband.

Part of me was saying yes, see what it will be like. Another part was saying no, you have got to be kidding. The whole of me was just standing there, unable to move forward or away. That's when he took matters into his own hands.

He reached over and took my arm and drew me up next to him. Then he calmly reached down and unzipped my jeans and undid the button at the top of the zip.

"All you have to do is push them down," he said softly, and I found myself doing so in a somewhat bemused state.

As soon as my jeans were down low enough he turned me and urged me to lean forward, bending over the seat. I braced myself with my hands, just bent over, feeling horrified at what was happening. Unfortunately I was also feeling wildly excited and the excited part wouldn't let me retreat.

I stiffened slightly and gave a small gasp as my panties slid down to join my jeans, and then I gave a much louder gasp when his hand slipped between my legs and started massaging my vulva. 'Don't do this' a little voice was shouting, but all I did was shift my legs a little further apart when he indicated I should do so.

He was touching me so intimately, his fingers dipping inside me, seeming to know all the secret little places that would react to a man's touch. I could feel heat building up inside me and I knew my passage was already wet and welcoming.

His hand moved away and what was now rubbing back and forth against my lips just had to be his erection. He was just dragging it along my lips, and it felt awfully hot and large. I knew what was going to happen but that didn't stop me giving a little scream when his erection butted against the entrance to my passage and started pushing in.

I gave a few more little screams as he kept pushing into me. He was, ah, let's say a little larger than what I was accustomed to. No, let's make that a lot larger. He was stretching me all out of shape and he still seemed to keep coming. I was going to yell at him to stop, that that's enough, but it would have been just too humiliating to say that I couldn't handle him, so I kept my mouth shut (apart from assorted little screams and squeals) and found, somewhat to my surprise that I was able to handle him.

I'd been concentrating so hard on what his cock was doing to me that I hadn't even noticed that his hands had slipped up under my top and undone my bra. This was abruptly brought to my attention when his hands moved around me and closed over my breasts. I didn't get a chance to protest about this because he started thrusting into me.

He'd pull slowly back and then drive in hard, with me rising up onto my toes as I pushed back to meet him. I won't say it was conscious effort on my part to do that. I just found myself doing it, squealing like an idiot every time he thrust home, his hands squeezing and releasing my breasts to the same rhythm.

Every movement he made seemed to heat me up and it seemed hardly anytime at all before I was literally burning up with need. I started telling him it was time to finish this and he sighed.

"I'm not ready yet," he told me, "but I can do this for you."

With that his hands dropped away from my breasts and settled on my sides at the bottom of my ribs. Then he dug his fingers in and my tickle response when insane. I shrieked and had some sort of twisting spasm as I tried to get away from those fingers, but his cock was holding me firmly in place, and then I had this massive orgasm, and I screamed in earnest at that.

"There you are," he said. "That'll take some of the pressure off you."

With that his hands were back on my breasts, teasing my nipples, and his cock was back to plunging into me, time after time after time.

Take off some of the pressure, he said. It is to laugh, was my opinion. I was now feeling super-sensitive, and his cock just would not stop driving into me, building up the heat once more, driving me wild with the need for relief.

He just would not stop and I was getting more and more vocal. As far as I was concerned I was about to have another climax and there would be nothing he could do to stop it. It turned out that he didn't want to stop it. He somehow or other managed to pick up the pace, driving in harder than ever, and this just naturally pushed me over the edge to another amazing climax. I was hazily aware of him jerking hard against me as he let loose with his seed, spraying it freely inside me. (All praise to he who invented the pill, was my thought, afterwards. Right then I wasn't thinking of anything. Just feeling.)

Afterwards I pocketed my settlement money and demanded he drive me down to the main road so I could get my milk. I didn't mind the walk back as it would be good exercise for me.

I'll have to tell my husband about the accident and the money. He'll be pleased about the settlement money, distressed about the accident, and probably tell me not to ride a bike again. The car was there, after all. I wouldn't tell him about my contribution towards the settlement. Why bother him with little things like that?