Teenager Gets Off

Lissa was supposed to head into town in order to run some errands for her mother. Since she was 18 years old and already enrolled in classes at a local community college, her mother had insisted that she act more like an adult and help out around the house. Though some would argue these expectations were placed on her at a relatively young age, it was curious that the local culture also dictated what she should and shouldn't wear in public. Lissa had to choose her outfits carefully before stepping out into the world.

The small town's mentality was that women must dress conservatively to avoid lewd men. This meant bonnets and full dresses. Not the light cotton of summer dresses either, but heavy wool regardless the heat. All to ensure men's lingering eyes couldn't wander over the outline of a woman's figure. This was obviously a reactionary stance that didn't address any social ills, but it was Lissa's local culture and she had to adapt or face being ostracized by the older women.

As a young, independent woman, rather than opt for the scratchy wool dresses and the stockings that were especially uncomfortable, she attempted a compromise in the form of low-rise jeans. She figured they were conservative enough. Paired with a sweater that just barely exposed her midriff, the old ladies shouldn't pass too much judgment. And if they did, it would just be the dirty looks she had already grown accustomed to for her youth, and not invite the unkind remarks like "hussie" and "tart" and other archaic terms for liberated women. Lissa was also petite, even for a teen. The jeans couldn't accentuate curves that she didn't even have and she didn't deserve the ire of the older women.

Luckily, nobody really gave her a second look as she walked along the street toward the bus stop. The sweater and jeans combo seemed to be working, the right mix of conservative and comfortable. Finally. Her frame forced her to pull them up occasionally. When she arrived at the bus stop she shouldn't have been caught by surprise to see the man already waiting there give her a once over with his eyes.

"Do you know what time the bus comes?" she asked to break the uncomfortable silence of his gaze.

The man shrugged as he looked at her with his steely eyes. His name was Barry, a rough-looking man whose appearance didn't betray the hard life he'd lived up until now. At nearly 40 years old he'd had his share of ups and downs. Others claimed they were brought about by his own decisions, but those opinions did nothing to assuage feelings of bitterness and a defaulting pessimistic view of the world.

So when Lissa looked at Barry with fear in her eyes, his reaction told her that there was something he didn't like about her. It didn't need to be rational, because he was a man. Who knew what he decided in that instance, because he was going to react however he wanted to. And she couldn't do anything to stop him.

"You're not dressed appropriately," he remarked before they boarded the bus.

The bus ride was uncomfortable for Lissa, because though she didn't know Barry's thoughts, the anger on his face made her work her way to the back of the bus. Normally she'd do that at night, but even in the plain day she figured she could never take too many precautions.

Her stop was a few blocks from the department store, so she had to walk a little ways to her destination. She was alarmed to see Barry and his permanent frown get off the bus behind her. She tried not to panic as she walked the empty street to her public destination, but swelling in her chest was that ingrained fear of men.

Lissa stopped by a street sign and peered down the street as if she were going to cross, so she could see Barry in her peripheral vision. Rather than keep walking, Barry crossed the small patch of grass and made his way up to her.

"You shouldn't be walking around like that," he advised.

"Oh, it's fine. My mom allows me to," she justified nervously.

He was now near enough that she thought she could smell alcohol on his breath as she watched his straggly beard too closely, giving up her ruse of confidence and watching for vehicles.

Barry took sleight at some combination of her actions, and decided to retaliate by putting his hands on her. With an enraged swipe, he pulled her loose-fitting jeans down, exposing her bare backside.

"I told you this wasn't appropriate," he explained, as if that were justification enough.

Rather than panic, Lissa felt a mix of trepidation and liberation as the cool air flowed against her behind. Out here in the streets, anybody could see her. All it would take was for a car to pass, and this would not go any further. But would they save her or chastise her for this? It didn't matter now; there was no car in sight.

Suddenly she realized that Barry had taken down his pants. When she looked back she only caught a glimpse of his enormous member before she scrambled for a delaying tactic. She'd never had anything that big and she wasn't about to allow it.

"Is that all you want, Mister? Just to stare at my naked ass?"

"No, you're gonna make me cum, too. That ass is mine now."

She wondered what people in a passing car would think, her standing there nude from the waist down. Would it be another man like Barry, staring at her intimate parts seemingly read to ravish her for his own selfish pleasures? Would he find her thin bush attractive, or want to compete with Barry for her? These ideas turned her on.

It took Barry a moment to sift through his anger and puzzle out what she meant by her challenge. But as she turned slightly toward him he could tell that she wasn't wearing a bra under her sweater.

She caught his gaze. "You want to see these too, yeah?"

"Yeah, let's see 'em." Rather than wait, Barry responded by jerking at her sweater with such force and at such an angle that he almost succeeded in tearing it off her with just a singular pulling motion. In fact, it only took a second tug and her flung arms to get it off.

Now that Lissa stood there completely nude with this strange man in the street, she felt oddly empowered given the danger she was facing. Maybe that danger was reduced for her, as she grew moist at the idea of being desirable and on public display.

Barry's patience had run out. There was not car in sight and Lissa now knew they'd reached a point of no return. As she felt the warmth of his engorged member against her cheeks, she steeled herself for what seemed to be the inevitable circumstances they'd reached.

She gripped the pole of the street sign and inclined forward as Barry continued to fumble around with his manhood behind her. He was not staying hard; his age must have caught up. Or maybe she wasn't struggling enough to satisfy his most primal urges.

"What's the matter, can't get it up?"

"Just give me a minute, dammit!"

As he finally worked his semi-erect monster inside of her, she realized it was a blessing in disguise for her sake. But his thrusts grew it ever harder inside her. He moved as she remained in position, until she eventually let out a moan.

He tried briefly to hold her hips, then reach for her breasts, not allowing himself much time on either body part. He slowed quite a bit and now Lissa's worst fear was entirely distinct from before. He was not going to last, and his thrusts slowed.

She couldn't let him cum inside, because even on birth control she wanted to retain her dignity form this fateful experience. Luck was on her side again, it seemed, as he softened and turned her around after pulling out.

She was worried that he'd force her to her knees and his shoot his disgusting load onto her face and tits like selfish men did. But he instead got a yelp of pleasure from her when he lowered himself to her breasts.

Lissa tried to close her eyes and enjoy herself, ignoring the man's unwashed hair mere inches from her face. She tried to lean back, but the metal pole behind her was too cold and hard for comfort.

When Barry felt her leaning away, afraid to lose a breast, he put a hand on her back. Stronger than he looked from years of manual labor, Lissa delighted in his hold on her. She reached to find his member only semi-erect again, so she instinctively began to stroke it back to life.

It took a few tugs to get the blood flowing, and when he switched to the other breast she paused. She reveled in the tongue flicking nipples as his mouth alternately engulfed her perky teenage breasts. She must've been at least a C cup, because Barry's large hand barely rounded the other perky breast while he still held her upright.

She was reminded of his erection when she felt its warmth against her stomach. She resumed tugging, and prayed that he wouldn't try a gross facial. In fact, when he moaned she began to tug him speedily. Rather than forcing her down onto her knees, he held her tightly, his strong arms sending pleasure through her body. He held her back and his hand slid off her breast onto her rear end and squeezed tightly. He grunted a warning and Lissa felt warm liquid against her smooth teenage skin. She was sketchy about touching the man and his filthy appearance, but was overcome with a sense of absolute power.

"Now clean me up," she instructed.

The man looked at her. Would he oblige, or did she make a mistake? It took forever, but eventually he lowered himself down on his knees and pressed his face between her legs. His nose buried in her bush, he inhaled deeply. Then she felt his tongue press into her clitoris, already flushed and aroused from her thoughts just moments earlier. He focused with too much intensity and she wanted to guide him with her hands, but was afraid to touch his filth.

She eventually relented, gripping his grayed hair and thrusting her pelvis forward as she pushed his head down, until his tongue reached the bottom of her vagina, near her anus. He began to lick along her entire length, guided by her thrusting hips.

He placed both hands on her small buttocks, squeezing her tightly. He thoroughly kneaded the flesh, pulling upwards and stretching out. She moved her hands to the shoulders of his tattered t-shirt, feeling for the firm muscles underneath.

She continued to buck her hips on the verge of orgasm, and he slid a finger into her wettened anal cavity. That was it. She shuddered and trembled at her pleasure's peak, no longer caring, when she faintly became aware of the honking of a car horn.

To be continued...