A Rainy Night

It’s late. You’re alone on a dreary, rainy night. You’re restless. Your cupboard is bare. You’re dying for a scotch, a beer, wine, anything to drown out your loneliness but there is nothing to be had. You submit to your basic needs and don a jacket to brave the rain for a short hike to a bodega.

The place is nearly empty; starkly lit, quiet. You begin to prowl the aisles looking for something to slake your thirst.

As you round a corner you see a woman, She is holding an empty basket. She looks to be searching for something as well. Her body is tightly wrapped in a classic trench coat. Her legs bare. Blood red toenails peek through her open black heels. You find this an odd combination and are intrigued.

She flits a glance at you, a quick cat eye look at the clerk who is preoccupied with his magazine and then she walks to the end of the aisle and disappears. You can hear the tap of her heels as she walks quickly toward the back of the store.

You follow. She stops and waits. When you reach her she is standing with her back to a wall, looking right at you. You stop and sink into her eyes. In her hand she has a nectarine, her basket discarded. You can smell its ripeness. She brings it to her lips, bites with sharp, white teeth. The juice dribbles down her wrist. She brings her wrist to her mouth and licks her hand clean. She then extends the fruit to you, offering you a bite.

You glance nervously at the front of the store but the place is still, only the drone of easy listening and the rain can be heard. You step toward her. She holds the sweet fruit to your lips. You bite. The juice runs down your chin. You raise your hand to wipe but she is there, running her tongue along your chin, your sticky sweet lips. She kisses you, full lips, deep inhalation and your hands are in her hair, touching her cheek, on her neck. She continues to kiss you.

She takes your hand from her hair and guides it inside her trench. Your hand comes to rest on warm, satin skin. You roll down her full breast and rub her hard nipple. Your erection is pressing painfully against your jeans. As she continues to kiss you, she unties the belt at her waist, letting the coat fall open. She is completely nude with the exception of her heels. She rubs her groin against your straining hardness.

You press into her, enjoying not just the feel of pressure on your cock, but the knowledge that she's feeling it, too. You run your hands down her back, on her ass, taking a cheek in each hand. Squeeze them and listen for that little moan, an exhalation of breath, her body pressing closer to feel your hardness. You hear it and kneed that ass, running your fingers down, further, until you can feel a touch of something soft and wet. Another moan. A push against you. She kisses your neck, your ears, whispering in a language you don't understand. But you understand it well enough. Then you feel a hand touching your cock through your jeans, rubbing it, feeling your balls. You pressagainst her more, slide a finger into her as she raises a leg to help you. She's hot and wet; steamy and slippery. She unbuckles your pants and slides her hand inside. Your cock is throbbing; the merest touch on it makes you shiver and groan in her ear, which you bite. She reaches deep, takes your balls in her hand.

She squats down so that she can bury her nose in your crotch, smell you. She gives each ball a quick tongue bath and then turns her chin up so she can look you in the eyes. Your finger is still wet from her slit and you rub the moist tip over her lips, pulling her up from her squat so you can kiss her. The salty sweet taste from her own juices and the nectarine mingle on your tongue. The taste excites you and you push her down again, so she can take your cock into her mouth. She hesitates for just a moment but you are needy and shove your groin into her face, forcing your hard, erect cock between her red, wet lips. You have one hand at the base of her head and begin to fuck her mouth as hard and fast as you would her pussy. But you aren't satisfied with this.

You pull her to her feet so she is facing you. You kiss her on her mouth, licking along her throat, as you hook one of her legs under the knee and pull it around your waist. Now your cock can slide into her wet snatch very easily and you begin to pump her. She tenses with her own excitement, gripping you hard, scratching your neck with her nails, biting your ears, softly moaning.

But the moaning isn't enough; you want to hear a wail, and you don’t care where they are or who's watching or listening. You fuck her hard and deep, pushing long with every stroke, grinding pubis against pubis, your tongue deep in her mouth, as if it were another cock. Pushing, tongue and cock, then biting her neck and reaching around to feel that wetness - just enough on the tip of your finger to slip against her asshole. It's tight and firm, but she gasps and relaxes just a little bit, enough for you to slip the finger inside her. In. In. Deeper, until it's all the way up to your hand and you’re banging her against the wall, knowing nothing but fucking, your whole body a big sensitive cock. And she's full, full in her mouth and pussy and ass, panting and moaning and whispering fuck me, fuck me, in some strange gobbledygook that needs no translation.

She lets out a yowl as she cums hard against your cock, your mouth, your finger, and vibrates with the intensity of her orgasm. You cum with her, pulling out of her pussy just as you start to cum and pushing her down, finishing in her mouth. She swallows and licks you clean, sucking your balls. And then she is on her feet, cinching her trench, turning on her heels and walking out the door. The clerk is looking up over the tops of the aisles from his post, a wicked grin on his face. You tidy yourself; grab a bottle and pay.