Tennis Shoes Girl [baited, semi-consent, fiction, age-gap]

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My apartment building is an old hotel with a staircase that goes up eight stories. It takes a few minutes to walk the whole thing, which I like to do instead of taking the elevator.

Each flight is a little too tall between landings, and a couple of times, in the hot months of the summer, I’ve encountered a woman in a skirt coming down while I was going up. Both times, I could tell that they felt unexpectedly exposed. They would squeeze their thighs together and shuffle as quickly past me as possible. Me being 6’4”, 215 pounds, athletic and very not-white, it’s not a totally unexpected reaction. And I’m not proud to say that I get a twinge of satisfaction when small women get a little tense around me. Lucky for me, I’m also very handsome, and have a deep, kind voice – so a smile and a “hey” usually puts them at ease. A little.

It’s one of those hot days today. It’s one of the hottest days of the year in Los Angeles, and I’ve just come home from lunch with a few friends. I enter my building and the staircase, and see you at the top of the first flight, approaching the landing. You’re in a blouse with buttons, a high-waisted pleated skirt and tennis shoes. In the light, I don’t see what kind of panties are at the top of those long legs. You realize that someone is behind you, glance back at me, and trip up the last step, landing on your knee with a yelp.

The shock is so surprising that you wince loudly, and when you sit on the landing to take your weight off of your knee, you spread your legs, showing me your teal cotton thong panties. You close them, blushing so hard even your arms turn a flushed red.

I ask if you are okay, and you don’t say anything at first and then you say ‘yes’. Neither of us says anything for a long moment, and I suddenly realize that I’m standing in a well-trafficked staircase gawking at a very beautiful, slender young girl in tennis shoes. With an injury, no less. Scraped away skin weeps blood down your naked shin. I realize I should probably get out of here.

But I have to get by you first.

I see your eyes get wide as I approach, and I can almost swear that you open your thighs an inch. I can’t tell if you even recognize the invitation you’re offering. Before I can stop the words from coming out, I ask, ‘do you need help?’ Then, as explanation, ‘I have a medical kit, and alcohol… Not alcohol, like booze. Rubbing alcohol.’

You don’t answer for a long moment, and then we both hear footsteps echoing from a couple flights up, coming toward us. You look from the stairwell, to the blood running down your leg and soaking your white sock, to my eyes.

‘Do you have real alcohol?’

I weigh my options. Briefly. ‘Yes.’

You stand and dust yourself, adjust your skirt, push it down a little, and start climbing the stairs again. I wait, letting you get a whole flight above me. I realize that my cock is swelling, starting to crawl down my thigh.

A few seconds later, an old man shuffles onto the landing above, smiling ear to ear. He leans out over the railing to look up – for a last-second glance at you, I’m sure. He descends the stairs, and I must still be blushing, because he gives me a wink as he passes. ‘It never gets old, son, even if we do.’

I find you loitering on the fourth floor landing, and I think you’ve hiked your dress up a little. I point ‘up’. You huff adorably and circle the landing to the next flight. I start taking the steps two at a time.

I close in on you at the top of the fifth, and for some reason am compelled to grab your ankle. You squeal, nearly bang you knee again, but catch yourself. I don’t let go yet. Your delicately muscled leg twitches, but my entire hand wraps around your ankle easily. Your blood smears under my grip.

I blow warm air up your skirt and you gasp through your teeth. I realize that I can smell what’s between your legs. A sweaty, sweet musk, and a hint of urine.

I’m staring into your eyes, and I realize that you’re actually scared – that you’re in a thoroughly compromised position, and the exciting flirtation has suddenly become a threatening reality. You look down and see that my cock is throbbing against the front of my thigh. You can see the size. Your eyes go wide.

I drop your ankle and walk past you. I’m suddenly aware of the distinct CLOMP CLOMP of my heavy black boots as I round the landing toward my apartment. I unlock my door and enter. I don’t look back at you, but stand inside and hold the door open.

For a few seconds, I swing between fear that you won’t follow me, and fear that you will… Then I hear your footsteps, and you crest the landing. You look up at me like an animal that knows it is walking into a trap, and then you enter.

I close the door behind us, but don’t lock it. I point you to the kitchen and follow you.

‘There are glasses up there,’ I gesture to the cabinets above the kitchen island. You open it, but have to stand on your toes to take two glasses from the top shelf. I find a bottle of Grey Goose in the freezer and orange juice from the fridge.

‘Are you twenty one?’

‘No.’

I consider my next question for a long moment.

‘Are you going to tell anybody?’

You shake your head no.

I pour two vodkas with orange juice – both heavy on the vodka. You take yours and sip, trying to not grimace. I drink half of mine in a swallow, and lead you to the living room. You sit on the couch and I sit in front of you on a piece of the sectional. Your knees knock together, trembling slightly, one scraped and bleeding. I remember the medical assistance that I offered you, but decide against that, for now. That can come after. You chug most of your cocktail, trying to remedy how deeply you’re breathing. Your thighs spread slightly.

I take your drink and set it down. I finish mine and set it beside yours. I crouch in front of you, and gently push your shoulder, leaning you back onto the couch. You let out a pained moan as I elbow your legs apart, exposing those teal cotton panties, stained dark in the crotch. I can smell you again – that dank smell of sweaty pussy. I breath it in deep, feeling my cock struggling against my jeans.I can see the embarrassed look on your face – you smell yourself too. ‘I’m sorry—‘

I interrupt you by wrapping my hands around both of your ankles and pushing your legs as wide as they will spread – nearly to a split. You stifle a scream, trembling violently now. I lean in, just a couple inches away from your pungent cunt, and breath in deep. ‘Oh my god,’ you groan, feeling my breath, cooler than the ambient air. I can see the light fuzzy hair poking out around the edges of your soaked panties. I open my mouth and place it on that wet patch. Your squeal melts into a low moan.

I keep massaging your cunt through the panties with my tongue and lips, licking the salty clefts between your labia and your thighs. You writhe in my mouth, your instinct is to pull away, but soon you are humping, grinding tentatively into me.

It’s time to unwrap you. I bring your legs together and pull your thong off. They get caught on your sneakers , but I rip them away and keep your legs togethers, returning to your sticky hole, running my tongue up and down your lightly fuzzed lips. Maybe you shaved a month ago – you’re past the prickly first few weeks, growing back soft. Glistening. Your labia are already swollen and deeper red.

When I spread your legs wide again, it opens like a little mouth, sticky white mucus clinging between the lips like saliva. Your eyes are wide, trembling in your skull.

I place my mouth over your creamy hole again, and begin fucking you with my tongue. You’re salty and sour. I can tell how tight you are just from this, and barely resist the urge to pull my cock out right then and take you. But I know that you need to be opened up more.

I suck and lick, focusing more on your clit. It’s already getting a little hard in its hood. You moan and try to squeeze your legs together, but I hold them wide, flicking my tongue against your stiffening button. Side-to-side flicks at first, which you seem to enjoy, so I try licking straight up and down. You squeal, trying to close your legs — a little too much stimulation so soon. I hold your legs open and start running delicate circles around your clit, not attacking the nerve center directly. This seems to relax you, and your hips start trembling against me. I keep circling until you’re humping my face like a horny puppy. I can feel your abdomen and thighs tensing, and soon your legs are locking around me, pulling my head into you, your back arching off of the couch, your hands clutching for something to hold onto as you cum in my mouth.

I let you finish, and lean away from you, staring into your eyes. You’re flushed, tears and drool pouring out of your shocked face. I can see that, due to a combination of lust, curiosity, and fear, that you are going to let me do anything that I want to you. So I tell you:

‘I’m going to fuck you now.’

I don’t ask if you’re on birth control. I don’t ask if you want me to get a condom. My cock needs to feel, and taste, the deepest parts of your wet insides.

I stand and unzip. I’m so hard that I have trouble pulling it out of my jeans, and when I do you squeal out a terrified gasp.

You instinctively close your legs, and I smile. I always love when a girl sees my size for the first time. The joy, or the fear, always makes me that much harder. Especially when she’s as small and vulnerable as you are.

I spit on my cock, enough to get it entirely slick, and then I spit on your pussy.

‘Hold your legs open.’

You hesitate a moment, then comply, hooking your elbows behind your knees, pulling those pink, swollen holes wider. I’m almost leaking precum already, like my cock can smell you and is drooling. I grab your hips and lift your ass off of the couch, bringing you toward my throbbing, dripping head. You can’t be more than a hundred pounds – it’s like nothing. You moan as my cock brushes your sticky, fuzzy lips. I do too, feeling the the warm, electric shock of pleasure shoot up my cock, through my stomach and all the way up my spine.

‘Are you ready?’

Your wide eyes glisten, as terrified as you are hungry. You shake your head ‘no’, but it’s too late. I hold you up by your hips and push myself in, splitting your lips wide and feeling the tight threshold of your cunt stretch around my girth.

You SCREAM, but you cover your mouth, pushing at me with your free hand. I’m only a little more than halfway inside of you, and it’s already more cock than you’ve ever had – I’d you’ve had any…

I pull out – slick with your cream – and spit on your pussy again.

‘That was half of it. Now, I’m actually going to fuck you.’ I throw your legs over my shoulders, wrap my hands around your slender back, and stand up, lifting you entirely off of the couch.

You cry out, ‘Oh, my—‘

But I drop you onto my cock, filling you to the cervix in less than a second. You can’t control the depth – you are just impaled.

You shriek, throwing your arms around my neck, clutching me. I lift your entire body and drop you back on to my cock, over and over. It’s incredible – the tightest cunt I’ve ever felt – and it’s spasming involuntarily as your body panics from the sudden assault. Your pelvic muscles and core clench and flutter – within seconds, your whole small body is cumming on me. I shouldn’t fit, but you are so aroused and overpowered that it just swallows me.

‘Please! Please! Please!’ You moan, unable to form more than single-syllable words, ‘I think I have to pee!’

‘Good’. I keep dropping you on my cock until I feel warm fluid splash my stomach and balls. I hear it splatter on the floor with each thrust. You’re cumming in ways that you didn’t know you could. The only sound you make is a long, sustained groan as you squirt torrents on me.

Your already-tight cunt is spasming and squeezing me like a gagging throat. Your legs are still over my shoulders tilting your pelvis up at a severe angle, and you’re taking cock like a human fleshlight, orgasming from the deepest parts of your frail body.

I’m realize that going to cum. I can’t hold off inside of something so small and juicy.

I wrap a large hand around the back of your neck and another around your waist, and drive myself as deep in as I can. You scream again as my cock punches your cervix up into your uterus, and I’m nutting in you so hard that it hurts. I can feel the terminus of your pussy as I flood you. Your hole sucks greedily, like it’s trying to drink up my sperm, and I hold you there for a few long moments, feeling your folded body tremble against mine.

I lay you back down on the couch, but don’t pull out right away our loins still throbbing, coupled. Your gaze rolls weakly around the room – you’re almost catatonic. The entire room reeks of deeply-fucked cunt, and piss – you weren’t joking. I stay rested in your guts, but realize that I’m still fully hard – your pussy is so tight that its holding the blood in me like a cockring.

I begin stroking again, slow and long, hunched over you now. I look down to see your hairy cunt, flushed red and stretched around me. Our cum has congealed into a thick white froth. I’m entranced watching it thicken and flow out like you’re a butter churn.

I look back to your eyes I realize now that you’re past a point of no return – that you’re never going to get over what has happened to you here. I own your body now…

But as a your eyes penetrate mine, a devilish smile curls your lips, and you start giggling. And I realize that it isn’t true… I don’t own you, or your cunt.

I realize that you own me.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/hix4z6/tennis_shoes_girl_baited_semiconsent_fiction