HIM:
She was cute, really. Petite, tight – frequently blonde. (Although today she was closer to amber-chestnut). Past her prime? Some might argue by a year or two. But as I said she was extremely fit and well maintained. Tight enough to carry off the shortish dress, bare legs, and those quaint little ankle-high boots with spike heels.
"Hi!"
"Hi!"
We were co-workers but we rarely spent much time together. To be honest, I wasn't sure for the first few months – but now I knew the ring was one of those 'no vacancy' signs that can vanish in a matter of moments with no legal impediment.
"Busy place," she said, glancing around. We'd run into each other at the checkout of the local supermarket – on a Friday afternoon, when the place was chaos. "Any ideas?" She fixed her eyes on mine and smiled.
"They're all going to be equally painful." Smiling myself, I stepped aside so she, with her hand-basket, could slip in front of me and my hand-basket.
As I said, chaos. So it was several minutes before we got in between those rows of magazines, candy and stuff – and another few minutes before she was off-loading and putting aside her basket, squeezing her items up as tight as possible on the moving slide thingee and laying down the marker thingee so I could squeeze my stuff on as well and tuck away my basket. Then we were left loitering, so to speak, with time on our hands.
There was something in the mute smiles she kept flicking me. I'd seen those smiles a number of times, around work, but she'd always been going the other way before I could react. This time she was still there, right in front of me. The moment we got in between the main clutter at the tills, emboldened by one more flicked smile, I thought,' why not?...may as well find out'.
My right hand curved nicely to her tight slim tush. She went taut instantly, as you'd expect. But she didn't rant and rave, jump away and take a swipe at me...or even ease away. She actually held her ground – in fact, maybe she leaned back into me gently. I worked my hand gently -- and her lips were parted slightly now, while she made an effort to breathe slowly and calmly. Then she was at the actual till, and my fingertips, discreetly raising the hem of her already short skirt, and stroking the smooth flesh at the top of her leg, caused her voice to rise an octave or so when she asked for a particular type of environmentally friendly bag.
The shop-clerk seemed not to notice anything amiss. But anyone who knew her would've known. I knew and I didn't know her very well at all... certainly not well enough to be stroking the oh sensitive area where her bare upper leg met her apparently equally uncovered tush. Causing her to shift from one foot to the other...and eventually to reach back and take hold of my wrist. Not to pull it away, mind you. Not right away. Just to hold it and keep me from massaging with my fingers too much, because she was clearly ticklish.
Then she was through to where you pay. Not out of reach, really, but in a place where I'd have to stretch in an awkward manner. And it wouldn't have been discreet.
So she got out of reach. And stayed out of reach. And finished up at the till and left the store, without so much as a backward glance. Leaving me to figure she hadn't really minded. But she wasn't into pursuing possibilities...
So imagine my surprise when I parked and she pulled into the parking space beside mine, in the underground carpark of my condo. I hadn't even noticed but she must've followed me.
I climbed out, smiling. She came at me, trying to slap my face. I caught the wrist. She had a go with the other hand. Managed to connect, once, before I turned it into a wrestle, controlling both of her slim wrists. It was almost surreal. She wasn't making any noise. And there seemed to be a wry twinkle in her eyes. But she tried every which way, including trying to connect with my shins using those cute little ankle boots.
It was a flat out scrap for a while. Until my height and weight told, and I managed to get both of her wrists trapped in my right hand...which freed my left hand to capture her chin, holding her for the kiss. And the kiss went on and on because she wouldn't let go. And it was her who used tongue first. And no, I did not ease my grip on her wrists because she is female and therefore likely to be up to something given half a chance.
Instead, once we were firmly molded together, so I could feel her nipples against my lower chest, and she could no doubt feel my erection – in fact, she was working one tight thigh over my erection, now that I stopped to take note – I moved my free hand around behind her, lifting the hem of her skirt, taking hold of her thong and peeling it down to the limit of my reach...
HER:
Bastard! I knew my panties were down across my thighs because the draft in that carpark was damned cold and my pussy was fully exposed.
And then I got a real jolt- the high voltage crack!
Bastard! He had his finger, maybe two, three?.., inside my molten wet pussy – and he was pumping me! It was like being on a standing rack. He was stretching me up on tiptoe with one hand and all the while he was stretching and pumping my hyper sensitized pussy with the other.
Bastard! Sorry, girls, I know it's letting the side down. And I've never consciously had a rape fantasy. But he had me. When his thumb found my little hooded clit while his fingers were pumping me...well, it was instant. I was cumming, cumming fast, and cumming so so so hard...!
HIM:
She ripped her mouth clear to moan, and to writhe and wriggle. Could she writhe and wriggle! Wow! Her eyes were fluttering...and they went on fluttering. I'd always wanted to rip an orgasm from a woman, the right woman. I never actually saw it happening in a carpark.
She was helpless. Very much so. When I slowed the pumping of my fingers she sped the action of her hips to make up the pace. When I moved my thumb an inch or so, away from contact, she arched her back into the spectacular bow, to regain direct contact with her clit.
And then her thighs closed like vices. And she came, again, and again, I think. And everything was soaking wet because she'd squirted. And I'd only had two women actually squirt, so this was impressive...and took a minute for me to figure out what was going on.
I turned her and pressed her into place, her breasts and thighs against the back of the car. Then I used my foot to rip her thong down and pin it to the concrete until she had kicked them off, while my free hand got her dress up and out of the way, and her bra to one side, and my foot became useful again in spreading her feet and therefore her legs...and I had to try a few times...she's short, as I said, and I had to bend and find the angle...
HER:
