Weekly con

You did this just got me didn’t you. Little girl alone, in a dim alley. I know you purposely left your panties at home this morning, tempting your peeping skirt length. You wanted me. Pretending your scared of the vagabond, acting defenseless when it’s so easy to slip in almost like you want the strange stranger. Filled. Even with my hand over her panting mouth your whimpers are quietly weak. You match my eyes when I enter, there’s no bedroom here, only execution. Act small but your begging for this. Eyes pleading while your lower lips quivers. The damsel in distress seems to get off by the danger. Your throat begs, it wants me to feel the flow of your pulse, the rush. Uncontrollable danger. Pushing against you, pinning you down like prey, do you know your guiding me? Absorbing into your waves, soaked by them. We need. Primal needs. Clasping dirty, filthy fingers of a calloused hand around your hips seems to let me enter desperate, accepting territory. How you fit my hard eager cock, from tip to base surrounded by warm pulsating wet flesh. Comfort only decribed aw organic. Tell me you didn’t want this. Whimper. You’ve craved, day dreamed, wished. Tell me you didn’t want your skirt pushed up, back arched bent over meeting your kink fantasies you’ve masturbated under the running bath faucet, covering your mouth as you come as to not reveal your intimate vulnerability. Your few tears don’t deter, the lube I don’t need as I slip in and out. Untamed caresses You want this, barely squirming, panting at my fill. I need to, your verbal begging silent as your body tells me everything. My cock must have known too this morning. Hard, glistening from you in the moon light. I can’t stop.
Meekly, you ask not to cum in you.
I wasn’t. Oh, I wasn’t.
But now, I want the unattainable. I need what I can’t have. I want to touch the art in the museum. I want to yank the fire alarm as I pass without an reasonable danger ahead. I hear the verbal no, playful but she’s begging me, painting me in gloss, shimmering allowance. The clapping symphony echoes the tunnel, she won’t deter my encore. Her pleads. Her pleases. I can’t stop watching her grasp me, flowing me in and out in and out.
Fuck.
Crying she begs please don’t. Yet pulling my hips closer, almost unable to thrust fully.
But all I hear is the thumps of my heart, pulsating. Watching myself give away, filling her dripping down her thighs. We need. She seems tighter now, enclosing my undone deed. It’s to early to release my prey, I’m still hunting.
Please.
Does she know this appeases?
Don’t, I can’t. Sir, please.
I’m cumming again, I can’t stop. I need her full of the part of me I will never get back. A gift.
Through my fingers she cries, and I sigh giving her all I have. No panties to soak in up it drips. It slips down, leaving trails on her legs racing to her shoes, drips falling to the cement ground. Leaving minut traces of us.
My grin is so big, I needed to let go. I needed my meditation, my reward.
She gathers herself.
Next Thursday she sighs walking to her previous path. I pick my suitcase from behind trash cans. Adjust my tie and nod.
Next Thursday when we can again be hedonistic alleyway animals.