Quiet Please

Don't you just hate these people who think the whole world revolves around them and what they want? Don't they realise that it really revolves around me? Just kidding. I don't think that, but you know the sort of person I mean.

I ran into one of these types when I was off camping the other week. It was the off season and there were only the two sites in use, mine and one just across the track from me. I was by myself but the other site was a family. There was a slightly older man, a young woman, quite pretty, and a couple of rug-rats.

I first noticed the woman when I heard her giving the man what for. She was really laying down the law. I saw him heading off towards the local town and the pub a little later and he looked happy to be going and I suspected that he'd stay there until late.

It was evening and we were having a nice long twilight. I was sitting in front of my tent listening to music. I wasn't playing it loudly, and it's not as though it was heavy metal or something like that. It was classical music. I like symphonies and marches and such. So sue me.

Like I said, I was just sitting there listening, enjoying the cool breeze after the hot day, relaxing in the countryside.

And then little miss 'it's my world' came barging out of her caravan and stomping over to my little tent.

"Turn off that bloody racket," she snarled. "I've just put my kids to bed and I want silence while they go to sleep."

"Good luck with that," I thought, listening to a kookaburra screaming its head off.

"Actually," I quietly informed her, "the music currently playing is Brahms Lullaby. If anything, it'll put your kids to sleep."

"It's far too loud," she snapped at me. "You'll have to turn it off until the morning. I can't have that sort of racket keeping me and the kids awake half the night."

I considered the matter. Was I playing too loudly and disturbing the peace? No. I wasn't. She was being unreasonable.

"Piss off, lady," I politely told her. "The music stays."

I assumed that would be the end of the matter, but no.

"Are you going to turn that off or not?" she demanded.

"Not."

Would you believe the silly bitch reached over and turned my player off? Talk about gall. I promptly turned it back on and told her to leave it alone.

She started breathing hard.

"Do you know who I am?" she demanded.

"Don't know and don't care," I said. "The music stays on."

That rotten bitch picked up my player and slammed it back down and the music died. She smiled at me.

"The music stays off," she said. "See my husband about getting that thing replaced. He'll buy you a decent player."

I'd had a decent player. It might not have looked much but it gave excellent sound. Now I'd have to go to the trouble of replacing it. Who the hell did this woman think she was? No personal responsibility, I noticed. Her husband would replace it. Not her.

But she was about to find out that when some accounts fall due you have to pay them.

I caught up to her before she was even halfway back to her caravan.

"Lady, that was my property you smashed," I snarled.

She tried to brush me off.

"I said my husband will pay for it. See him when he gets here. Don't bother me," she said, a very dismissive tone in her voice.

Rotten bitch. I still had a hold of her arm and she was jerking on it irritably. I looked her over. Quite pretty, and lightly dressed, due to the warm weather.

"Let's see how you like your things being damaged," I said, speaking quietly.

I took the front of her blouse and just tipped it straight down, leaving her with a rag. I tried the same with her skirt but it didn't tear. It did however come down, pooling around her ankles. She was effectively left standing there in a sexy matched set of panties and bra.

She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, not knowing what to say. I was feeling really nasty and had no intention of letting her off the hook just yet.

"If you scream, you'll wake the kiddies, and you wouldn't want that, would you," I said, and I proceeded to drop her panties and remove her bra, leaving her standing there stunned and really quite appealing.

She was also silent. Apparently she was serious about not making any noise in case it woke the rug-rats.

"It seems to me that as I can't listen to music right now, I'll have to make my own entertainment, and guess what. That's you."

She was half-heartedly trying to cover her charms, flicking little glances at her caravan, apparently wondering if she should make a dash for it.

"What do you mean?" she asked me, speaking quietly and a little nervously.

"Well, since I have nothing else to do, and seeing you're standing here naked with nothing to do, I thought I'd just lay you on this grass, with lay being the operative word."

She almost choked on her reply.

"Are you trying to tell me you're going to rape me right here in the middle of the camping ground? Out in the open where anyone might come past and see us?"

"Rape is such a harsh word," I said. "Let's just call it making music of a different kind."

"You can't do it," she protested. "My husband will be back at any moment. He'll fix you up."

"After the hard time you gave him, your husband is more likely to take one look at what's going on and then sneak away and wait until I've finished playing," I said.

"Oh, one thing, try to keep the noise down while I entertain you. Don't want to wake the kiddies."

I pulled down on the arm I was holding and she sank down onto the grass without resisting. I stood over her, daring her to move, and stripped off. The thought of taking her had already given me an erection so she had a nice little treat to look at when my pants went down.

I nudged her foot, indicating that she should move her legs apart and she did so. I knelt between them and showed her how to raise her knees and spread wide to allow me freer entry. Not that she showed much appreciation for the advice. You can't please some people.

With her nicely positioned, I eased forward, had her hold her lips apart (while she whined at having to do it), and then slid easily into place within her. She felt good. She was nice and tight and oddly enough hot and wet. I gave her a few good pumps to get the feel of her, then stopped.

"You know, this doesn't feel right," I told her as I withdrew, and for a few moments she looked relieved.

"Why don't you roll onto you tummy and lift your bottom up," I suggested. "We'll see if that feels better."

She didn't look too pleased but she rolled over and humped her bottom into the air quite nicely. I patted her bottom and told her she was doing well, and while she was still seething from that I pushed firmly into her again. She actually squealed a little this time, and as a reward I gave her half a dozen vigorous strokes before I stopped again.

I pulled free again and I could swear I heard her grinding her teeth together.

"I know what's wrong," I said, settling onto the ground next to her. "You did the crime but I'm the one putting all the effort into extracting a little retribution. It will be more appropriate if you settle down on me and play some pipe music. Or should we call it an organ recital."

She would have loved to jump to her feet and bolt, but I still managed to keep a grip on one arm. Muttering to herself she straddled me, eased me into position and then sank down onto me.

Now I relaxed and let her do the work and she went about it in fine style. She leaned forward until her nipples were just grazing my chest and then she started to bob up and down on my cock. The woman had an amazing talent. She somehow set her breasts to swinging from side to side, her nipples bushing through the hair on my chest while she slid up and down my pole in fine style.

That woman was a pole dancer of the finest kind and I was getting the fruits of her experience.

Normally I like to be in charge when with a woman and with any woman other than this one I'd have rolled over, flipping her onto her back and under me and let drive. But in this case, who can improve on perfection? I finally knew exactly what her husband saw in her, and I don't blame him a bit for letting her rule the roost.

She bounced, she twirled, she gyrated and spun, or that was the impression she gave to my enthusiastic cock. She drove me mad in the first few heady moments and after that I just lay back and enjoyed the performance.

She wouldn't have been human if her sensual performance hadn't affected her as well. I was watching her face, sort of by accident as my main attention was on her bouncing breasts, and I could see her eyes glazing as she lost herself in feeling. What her pussy was doing to me, my cock was returning with interest, and she was now totally enthusiastic about paying her debts.

I couldn't control my reaction and I could feel a volcano stirring in my loins. When it exploded a hot stream of lava jetted up and out of me and my rider screamed and seemed to just clamp down on me. Please note, when I say she screamed, it certainly looked as though she was screaming, but she was still totally silent. Afraid to wake the kids, I guess.

It didn't really matter. My little lesson in retribution seemed to have come to a successful conclusion and as soon as both of us were capable of moving I was willing to let her go.

It took a few minutes of just lying there, but finally she managed to get to her feet. She looked down at me, gathered up the remains of her clothes, looked at me again, shook her head and walked slowly back to her caravan.

Being me, I had to get the last word in.

"I'll be here for several more days," I told her. "Not having my music I'm going to have to find something else to do in the evenings."

She gave me a quick indignant look and moved faster towards her caravan. Tomorrow evening could prove interesting, as long as her old man went to the pub again.