Samaritan 1

I was at a nightclub when I spotted this young lady. A very attractive young lady I might add. I'm guessing she was about eighteen; had to be at least that or they wouldn't have let her in. The management were hellish strict on that. They'd been caught out once and if they got hit a second time they might run into some expensive trouble.

This particular young lady was a blonde wearing a tight red dress. That dress hugged her figure in a way that a lot of men would like to. It covered her in a sheath from her breasts to about halfway down her thighs. Oddly enough she wasn't showing much cleavage, just a gentle swelling of her breasts above the top of the dress, but she had a remarkable full bust.

She was dancing when I saw her, plastered against this young man. From the look on her face all I could think was, 'boy, are you ever getting lucky tonight'. As the night progressed my thought did not change. From what I observed she wasn't drinking much. She had a glass, and waved it around a lot, but rarely took a sip from it. She was just getting high from the atmosphere and the dancing, not needing alcoholic stimulation.

About midnight I decided to call it a day and head on home. It was just by chance that I was following that girl and her boyfriend out. She was clinging to him like a limpet, chattering away, while he was smiling like a loon. I'd have been smiling like a loon, too, if I was in his place.

The pair of them had only taken a few steps outside when he reeled and nearly fell. If she hadn't been holding on to him he probably would have. The fresh air had hit him hard and finished him off. He hadn't been smiling like a loon because he was going home with such a sweet young thing. He was just plastered and smiling inanely, like the idiot he was.

It was plain to see that she was going to have a problem getting him to their car. I did the good Samaritan bit and stepped forward to give her a bit of a hand.

I hooked my shoulder under his arm and lifted, suggesting that she lead the way. She was glaring little daggers at her friend but trotted on ahead, going deep into the carpark. She fished his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the car and I dumped him into the passenger's side and buckled him up. He promptly dropped off to sleep and started snoring.

"Can you drive and do you have a driver's licence?" I asked her.

She nodded. "But he'll kill me if I drive his car," she protested. "He's very possessive of it."

"In his state he'll kill you if he drives it," I pointed out. "When you get home I suggest you leave him in the car and take the keys inside with you. With no keys he can sleep it off in the car and can't be charged with being in control of a vehicle while intoxicated."

She chewed on her lip (a very delectable lip, I might add), sighed and nodded.

"Now that one of your problems has been solved we can now look at addressing your other one," I said happily.

"What do you mean? I don't have another problem," she protested, but I slowly nodded my head.

"Yes, you do," I said, and proceeded to explain. "It's plain he's not going to be any use to you tonight which leaves you all aroused and no succour in sight. Being a born gentleman I just naturally have to offer my assistance in this matter."

She blushed, turned pale, and then blushed again. She also looked around real quick, seeking a fast exit point, none of which seemed to be on offer. I decided to ease her mind before she had a heart attack.

"Oh, relax," I said. "It's not as though I'm going to rape you. It's merely a case of you being totally aroused and the idiot of your choice is out of action. Really, what red-blooded man wouldn't want to take his place?"

She breathed out rather heavily and relaxed a trifle.

"I am not aroused," she told me, lying through her teeth.

"Uh-huh," I said, "and these little pointers are signs of what?"

Those little pointers were her nipples making little tents in her dress. I know this for a fact as my fingertip was resting on one.

"That doesn't mean a damn thing," she snapped, slapping at my hand.

"Yeah, it does," I told her. "Now the way I see it we could do this two ways. You could lean forward over the car and I could approach you from behind. Because you can't see me you can pretend that it's good old Dopey loving you with great enthusiasm. Alternatively, you can lean back against the car, helplessly watching while a wild and wanton warrior works his wicked wiles upon you. Nice alliteration there - watching while a wild and wanton warrior works his wicked wiles."

"If you even try to touch me I'll, I'll. . ." Her voice trailed away as she tried to come up with a sufficiently bloodthirsty threat.

"Well, while you're thinking up what you'll do, why don't you lean back for a moment?" I moved a little closer and she moved a little back and found that she was now actually leaning back slightly.

"I don't think you're the sort of girl who wants to think of one man when she's with another. Let's see how this goes."

I'd spotted the zip under arm and I reached up and gave it a tug. The side of her dress split open at the top and a little tug exposed her breasts. I'd been fairly certain that she wasn't wearing a bra and this proved it. Oh, boy, but did it ever prove it.

She was making spluttering sounds while I reached out and gently caressed each breast in turn. They were full and both nipples were begging for attention. My thumbs gently rotated them like miniature joysticks, hearing her breath catch as I did so.

When my hands dropped away she was looking at her breasts as if they'd betrayed her, and perhaps they had. I moved down and took hold of the hem of her dress and started lifting it. It was an interesting exercise. It was tight and clung firmly to her bottom. I still managed to lift it high enough that her panties and lower tummy were revealed.

One look at those panties and I was prepared to swear that she left home ready to have them ripped off her. My hands slid down from her waist and under her panties on either side. I was looking her directly in the eye as my hands continued on down, taking her panties with them, and her face was flushed but she didn't say boo.

She stepped out of her panties in a most ladylike manner, still saying nothing as I stood back up, my hands dragging across her skin as I did so. Then I was standing and she was able to look down the length of her own body, her breasts, and mons, and cleft, all within her view, and she was looking. So was I, and a delightful sight it was.

I brushed my hand across her breasts again and then let it fall, slowly running it over her mons and between her legs, closing over her mound and squeezing it slightly. (If she didn't want me to she should have kept her legs together.) I could feel her inner heat and her lips were practically kissing my hand, and if they did it would have been a wet kiss. I withdrew my hand.

Taking my time I undid my belt, unzipped, and pushed my trousers and shorts down. Her eyes and switched to watching me as soon as I started on my belt, a look of shock on her face. Maybe she hadn't really thought I'd go this far. There again, from the way she was looking at my erection maybe she'd never gone this far. I thought about that for a good second or two and decided it didn't matter. I was fairly certain that she'd decided how the night was going to end before she even left home and if there was a sudden change of partners she'd just have to put up with it.

I was moving closer, my knee pressing between her legs, urging them further apart. They parted slowly, with me moving closer, my cock now brushing against her, my hand rubbing her once more.

"Ah, look, I, um," she started but I over-rode whatever she might have wanted to say.

"Helplessly watching, remember," I said softly. "The stranger looks over you, his very presence rendering you powerless, knowing that he is going to use your body for his pleasure, and you have no choice but to acquiesce."

"I'll say no if I want to," she said indignantly.

"Well, theoretically you can," I admitted, "but that ruins the whole scenario of the stranger appearing out of the night and taking unconscionable advantage of you."

I eased my cock into position, bending a little to bring it to bear. Easing her lips apart I started pressing into her. She gave a slight gasp, starting to look a little frantic. I pressed in just a little further.

She was certainly tight enough to be a virgin. On the plus side she was also aroused enough to be well lubricated. I pressed hard, sinking further in, while she watched, eyes almost glued to what was happening. She started making a funny little groaning sound and I was now in quite deep, pushing home with delight. Delight on my side, anyway. A lot of uncertainty on hers, I think. Was she a virgin? Damned if I could tell. No physical evidence but a certain naivety suggested yes. Not that it mattered. She wasn't one now.

I rested my hands on her hips, helping hold her steady as I started sliding into her. At this stage I was just taking my time, sliding firmly home and withdrawing. I was also gently pulling on her hips as I drove in, tacitly encouraging her to move with me. It didn't take much. She started rocking, pushing towards me, her breathing hard. She was also watching what happened, appearing fascinated with the way I drove into her, my cock disappearing from sight even as she found it surging up inside her.

I suspect that she found a bit of erotic romance about the whole thing, romance that would have been spoiled if we hadn't had that full moon overhead, throwing some light on us.

She was muttering to herself and I couldn't quite hear what she was saying. Leaning a little closer and she seemed to be giving herself a running commentary of what was happening, with the occasional appeals to god to help her. I wasn't sure if she was pleading for rescue or asking for strength to keep going.

We kept going as we were but I could hear her muttering getting louder and more appreciative. I picked up the pace a bit (OK, I picked it up a lot) and I was now thrusting into her hard and fast and she was bucking under me, pushing eagerly to meet me.

I was building to a climax and I suspected that she was, too. The tone of her voice certainly suggested it. I finally piled on the pressure, willing to let loose and see how she handled it.

Noisily, was the answer. She didn't actually scream but she certainly started talking hard and fast, describing what was happening to her, which seemed to be something in the way of being dipped in fire and burning up and dying and it would be my fault when they came to carry her body away.

I finally pulled away and pulled my trousers up. She gave a start at that and hastily started tidying her dress up and looking around for her panties. Spotting them she gave me a hard look, pulled them from my shirt pocket, and hastily pulled them on.

She then looked around for the car keys.

"You had them when you leaned back against the car," I mentioned.

She turned to look at the car. Where she'd been lying there was a big scratch that tapered off towards the front of the car. Looking down she spotted the keys and picked them up.

"Looks like you might have scratched the car," I said, indicating said scratch.

"No, I didn't," she said, looking me right in the eye. "That scratch must already have been there."

An awfully bright scratch for an old one, in my opinion, but who was I to argue.

She marched around the car and slipped behind the wheel. She looked at me and then shook her head, apparently not knowing what to do or say. Then she shrugged, started the engine, and drove away. I watched her go. How often, I wondered, did she come to this nightclub. Something to follow up on.