Jogging Along

Tracy wasn't a health or exercise nut. At twenty she was, as far as she was concerned, quite fit and healthy enough. She did a reasonable amount of exercise to make sure she stayed fit and healthy, but she didn't go overboard with it.

There were some little things that could drive her out early for some serious jogging though. Little things like an extra slice of double chocolate cheesecake. OK. Maybe it was two extra slices, but they had been very tasty, and Tracy didn't really mind the jogging.

So this morning found her out bright and early, jogging along and wishing she'd taken just one more slice of that double chocolate cheesecake. If she had to work it off, she should have made sure she had something decent to work off. She trotted on round the park.

Now, while Tracy liked to jog, it wasn't quite enough for her exuberant spirits. Every so often she would settle down to a flat out run, pelting along until she was gasping for breath. Then she'd take a little breather and continue her jogging.

One of Tracy's running spots was coming up. At one end of the park there was a little copse that the jogging track passed through. Tracy like to imagine that the copse was occupied by bears and tigers and that she needed to go through it at full pace or be eaten. A bit juvenile, she admitted, but it was fun, so who cared.

Her starting point reached, Tracy took off in a flat out run, racing through the copse. First half was dead straight, then fast around the corner before the wild animals could leap out of ambush and head fast, fast, fast for the exit.

Unfortunately, on the present morning the wild animals did come out of ambush before she was past. Or rather, another jogger came around the corner just as Tracy hurled herself around it, knocking the poor man down.

It is a well-known fact that when a small object of a certain density hits a much larger object of the same density it is the small object that is going to bounce hardest and highest.

The oncoming jogger was knocked over but quickly scrambled to his feet. Tracy, however, bounced hard. Even harder than would normally have been expected as, by a stroke of ill luck, petite little Tracy rammed her tummy hard into her victims knee. The vicious blow in the solar plexus left Tracy totally winded. She bounced off the oncoming jogger, coming down hard on the edge of the track and curled into a ball, frantically trying to breath.

She was vaguely aware of a figure crouching next to her.

"It's OK girl," she heard a warm voice soothing her. "I know first aid. I'm just going to give your tummy a bit of a massage and you'll be right in no time. Um. I'm just going to have to loosen your clothes slightly."

Tracy felt a slight dragging at her clothes, then she was being eased onto her back and a hand was massaging her tummy, pressing up against her diaphragm, and she could feel that terrible emptiness slowly fading as her breath started to return.

Tracy felt herself relaxing and the world coming into focus around her again. The hand was still massaging her and it actually felt quite nice. She found she was staring at the bushes next to the track, momentarily puzzled by a flash of red there.

She looked a little harder and realised that a bit of red material was caught on a branch and waving gently in the breeze. Then she gave a little giggle. The scrap of red looked for all the world like a pair of panties.

Tracy felt a sudden chill run through her. The hand that had been so soothing on her tummy was no longer gently rubbing her tummy. That didn't mean that it had stopped rubbing. But where it was rubbing there should have been material, most notable of which would be a brief pair of lacy red panties.

Tracy stared at the panties, flying like a little victory flag while gentle hands massaged her mound. She could feel fingers easing her lips apart and then diving between them, plunging into her and continuing their gentle rubbing internally.

She couldn't force herself to look at the man touching her. She just lay there, staring with fascination at her panties. She finally found her voice.

"St-stop that," she stammered. "Leave me alone."

The fingers paused and then withdrew, and Tracy gave a little sigh of relieve. This was quickly followed by an appalled whimper as she felt something else gently rubbing where the jogger's hands had been.

"Don't" she squealed, trying to twist away, but found herself easily held.

Then she felt the something else pressing between her lips, ready to make itself at home. Before she could say or do anything she felt her top being pushed up, exposing her breasts. Finally, she found she could turn and look at what was happening.

Her head jerked around and she looked at her breasts, bare to the sky for a moment before two hands closed over them. Looking further down she could see where a man's cock was pressing into her. It can't really be that large, she told herself. It's just the situation is making it look big.

Then as she watched it decreased in size, externally anyway. She gasped as she felt it sinking into her, filling her, taking full advantage of her helplessness. She couldn't watch.

Tracy's gaze snapped back to the side, focusing on her panties, gently flapping in the wind. A flag of victory for him, she thought, and a flag of surrender for me.

The jogger's weight was fully on her now and Tracy squeezed her eyes shut. She was not going to look.

Slowly she felt the weight lifting as the jogger withdrew and Tracy tensed. She knew what was going to happen. There was a pause and Tracy squealed as he drove straight down into her. Then he was withdrawing again.

"You'll find it easier to cope if you move with me," came a soft voice and Tracy winced.

He was right of course, but did she really want to work with him while he raped her? She almost groaned at the thought, but when he descended Tracy was lifting her hips to welcome him. Well, maybe not welcome, but to at least facilitate his entry.

Tracy did groan that time as it was a relief to be moving with him. Her body stopped rebelling against the invasion and started enjoying it, albeit reluctantly.

Soon Tracy was breathing hard, gasping almost, as her first aid helper took his reward from her nubile young body, pounding hard against her pussy while she bounced upward to meet him, stroking and massaging her breasts, causing additional little ripples of sensation to flow through her.

Tracy was starting to feel really hard done by. Not only had this oaf crashed into her and knocked her down, not only had he taken unconscionable advantage of her helplessness to rape her, but he apparently had the gall to insist that she have a climax before him. Surely a proper rapist would at least have the decency to hurry up, do the deed, and go away.

She groaned and writhed under his pounding cock as she felt him slow down again. It seemed that every time he was ready to blow his cork he'd slow down, letting his climax delay itself, and then start pounding her again. And every time he started again she could feel herself being lifted that little higher, and her own climax was in plain sight.

The next time he slowed down and then sped up again Tracy heard herself giving a preliminary little squeak. She couldn't help it. She was climaxing, and her eyes popped open as she squealed and bucked. The jogger seemed to give a sigh of relief and then he was driving hard home, letting his own climax explode all over her.

The little red panties flag was still fluttering in the wind, proclaiming a victory. Tracy stared at them morosely for a moment and then closed her eyes, willing the jogger to go away.

She gave a small sigh of relief as she felt him rising, and then she heard his footsteps picking up pace as he headed on his way. Wincing a little she sat up, reaching for her shorts. She had to get dressed and out of here before someone else came along.

Reaching for her panties on the bush she stopped and stared. They were gone. That bastard, she thought furiously. He's pinched my panties.