"Tell me your name little one."
"Megan," she blubbered.
"Well Megan, you have a choice to make. I really don't want to hurt you. I don't plan to rob you and rape is such an ugly word and an even uglier deed. I don't want to beat you either. Don't make me resort to that."
She continued crying, but my words seemed to calm her slightly. I held the box-knife to her throat and held her arm trapped behind her in a hammer lock, threatening to dislocate her shoulder. "What is it you want?" she sniffled.
She was beautiful in the dim light that filtered into the alley I had pulled her into from the street. Age no more than 19 or 20, long curly brown hair that partly obscured her face, full breasts under a tight sweater, slim waist, long legs in black yoga tights. Why she was walking alone at night in this neighborhood was beyond understanding.
"I can do any those ugly things to you or you can save yourself all that heartache just by cooperating a little bit."
"Cooperating how?" she asked.
"A hand job," I said. "A simple hand job. I'll bet you've done a few of those in your short life. You're a beautiful girl and I'm a desperate old man. A simple stroke job. You jerk me off, it probably won't take long, you go your way, I go mine. You haven't seen my face in the darkness. You can't identify me. You'll be free to go as soon as I get off. What do you say? Sound better than being raped?" The girl's shaking seemed to subside. She nodded and sniffled back some tears.
"I'm going to let go of your arm, but this knife isn't leaving your throat. You understand?" She nodded again.
"Okay," I said. I released her arm but grabbed it again and torqued it up once more. "Remember now, we have a deal. Keep in mind how easily I can break this arm." I eased up and released her wrist. I used my free hand to unzip my fly. My cock was already straining to work its way out of my boxers. I took hold of Megan's hand and guided it to my painfully hard dick. I moved a step to the right so that I was still standing behind her but off to one side. "If you try to hurt me or try to run you will regret that decision." I felt the warmth of her palm. Her hand was small and soft. "Now wrap that sweet little hand tight around my cock," I said. She did as she was told. I closed my hand around hers and moved her hand up and down the shaft, demonstrating for her how to stroke it. "Just like that," I whispered into her ear.
Megan got the idea quickly and responded hesitantly to my verbal instructions. "A little faster. Squeeze a little tighter. Not quite that tight. Speed up just a little. You like that way that cock responds in your hand?" I didn't wait for an answer. "Tell me how you want me to cum. Beg me to shoot my sperm into your hand. If you talk to me this will be over more quickly.
"Please," she said. "Please cum for me. Cum in my hand."
"It might help if I feel those marvelous tits while you're wanking me, Megan." Remember, I can get to this knife before you can get more than a step of two away." I slipped the box cutter into my back pocket and reached my free hand around to slip it up under her sweater. She was wearing a bra but it was skimpy and allowed me easy access. I slid my hand down from the top and pulled her breasts up and out the bra one at a time. I began gently kneading each of them in turn. "You have wonderful young tits, Megan." Her nipples felt small. To my amazement the left nipple seemed to respond to my ministrations by popping up slightly. I pinched it lightly between the knuckles of my index and middle fingers. I perceived a slight gasp escaping Megan's lips and felt the nipple grow harder. "Oh, you like that don't you, little girl?" Another little pinch and I heard her gasp again. I sensed a change in her breathing.
"Do you have a boyfriend, Megan?"
"No."
"Did you ever?"
"In high school."
"Did you fuck him, Megan?"
"Yes."
"Where did you do it?"
"In his car."
"And did you ever suck his cock?"
