208 lines
12 KiB
Plaintext
208 lines
12 KiB
Plaintext
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She was sitting by the water, a group of ducks at her feet clamoring and
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fighting over the breadcrumbs she tossed to them. Through the glare of the
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setting sun, she saw him with his own entourage of ducks, slowly walking
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toward her, tossing food to the ducks which followed him.
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As the sun cast it's last golden hue on the ripples at her feet, he came to
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sit next to her. She had never seen him before, yet she did not move from her
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position. He said nothing, but watched her toss the last crumbs, then the
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chevrons of water as they rippled behind the ducks as they followed a
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passer-by.
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The sun had completely set, and the stranger still sat beside her,
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commenting on the water, ducks, warmth of the breeze, the way the leaves
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stirred gently. She listened, wanting to leave, but feeling frozen in place.
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Once, she tried to get up, but he pulled her back with a gentle yet firm tug
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on her sleeve. So she sat, silent, hoping he would tire of this game. But he
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did not.
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A half moon rose over the horizon, casting an eerie light on the grass and
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the water. At last he rose, and she sighed with relief. To her dismay, he
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reached for her hands and pulled her to her feet. Not knowing what he would
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do, or what he wanted, she slowly turned and began to walk. He followed her,
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one half pace behind her left shoulder.
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The path led to the parking lot, and she thought soon she would be across
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it and inside her apartment. Usually she didn't hurry there; it was small,
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sparsely and drably furnished, just a place to stay while getting established
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in this new city. Almost eagerly she walked toward it, and the dark safe womb
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it represented in her mind.
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The path forked. She walked toward the right, as she always did going
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home. He took her arm and steered her onto the left path, guiding her steps
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on the unfamiliar way. The manicured grass gave way to scrubby brush, and
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trees grew from the bushes in wild abandon; this area of the park had not
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been developed, but left as it had always been.
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The path curved through the thickening brush, and dipped into the cleft
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between two hills. He kept her from falling a number of times, and she was
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confused by the feeling of gratefulness she expressed to him. After all, she
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wouldn't be here except for the gentle force he applied to her arm in steering
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her. In this confusion, she had little time to worry about where he was
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taking her, but walked the unfamiliar path feeling strangely numb.
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They neared the brook at the bottom of the rift, and he steered her onto
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the bridge which crossed it. The thought rose in her, that this was a border;
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she would not be the same after crossing the stream.
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At his gentle urging, she walked across the bridge and along the path out
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of the cleft. His hand at her elbow both reassured and frightened her as he
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led her a short way. A parting of the brush showed a trail toward a gnarled
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oak, and along that trail he led her. She followed, too numb to resist.
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In the shade of the oak he stopped her, and turned her to face him. His
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hands slid around her waist and embraced her softly. As if of their own
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volition, her arms crept from her side and enfolded him, her forehead pressed
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against his chest. As the embrace loosened, she moved her body away, yet her
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forehead remained where it was, looking through the gap between their bodies
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to the grass under their feet.
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She felt his hands still at her back, rubbing up and down over the buttons
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which closed her dress in the back. A finger caught under the top button, and
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the frayed buttonhole released the button with no effort at all. The warm
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summer breeze caressed her back, and with each button opening it found wider
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access to her uncovered back. The last button released and the fabric
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billowed, exposing her back from neck to below her waist. His hands felt
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strangely good on her skin.
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His hands caressing her neck, stroking her hair and tracing her ears
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deepened the trance she felt she was in. She did not notice when his hands
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dropped to her shoulders, only that the front of her dress was was falling
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away. Her arms dropped as his hands swept the thin fabric from her shoulders,
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letting the top fall into the gap between them as she watched. His hands
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followed the curve of her side until it met cloth, which he pushed past her
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hips. She watched the dress slide down her legs to envelope her feet. He
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rocked her in his arms, and pulled her toward the tree, leaving the dress a
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soft circle in the grass.
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She felt his hands on the sides of her panties, his fingers moving the
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fabric lower on her hip with each sweeping caress. Being old and stretched,
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they dropped as far as her closed legs allowed, staying there until his feet
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between hers began to move apart, releasing the cloth to billow to her feet.
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He walked her out of them, to a smooth spot below the oak. Still holding her
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close, he reached into a low crotch in the tree, and brought down a thick pad,
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the type movers use to protect furniture. He admonished her to stay, and
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stepped away to spread the blanket on the ground. With tender caresses, he
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brought her to stand on the mat, near one edge, and pushed her to her knees
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with pressure on her shoulders. She obeyed the cues with no reluctance; no
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resistance, no thought of disobeying his kind but firm mastery. As he moved
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forward, she first sat on the pad, then laid back, watching the stars around
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his head, watching as he stood by her feet.
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It was an unfamiliar feeling for her, being caressed by the gently moving
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air, especially on her breasts and the now freed hair at the junction of body
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and thigh. For a few moments as he stood there, she was lost in the new
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sensations, feeling both trapped and yet a freedom beyond any she had ever
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experienced. She watched as he looked at her looking at him, and felt
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strangely at peace.
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He began to move. Slowly and deliberately she watched him open his shirt,
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then pulling his arms out of the sleeves gracefully. With the same deliberate
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smooth slowness, she watched him take off his shoes and socks. His hands moved
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to his waist, unbuckled his belt, and snapped the waistband open. She heard
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the snap, then the sound of the zipper being pulled, and watched as the jeans
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opened, dropped, and were put with the rest of his clothes.
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Her eyes were drawn to his body; never before had she seen a man naked
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before. The flatness of his belly, with the rising fleshy organ where she had
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none, the muscular thighs shining in the moonlight fascinated her. He was
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slowly moving, almost dancing to an inner rhythm, and as she watched the
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movement, she felt his feet move between her feet, and moved them apart to give
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him room to dance.
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She watched him kneel at her side, and felt his hand on her naked belly,
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tracing the curve of her ribs, outlining and exploring her navel, caressing
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the hollowness between ribs and pubic rise. His hands came to cup her
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breasts, and she felt the nipples harden, though she felt no cold. Instead,
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she felt a glowing warmth spreading through her, and was surprised at the
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occasional shiver that shook her.
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Deeper she slipped into the trance. Unable to resist, defend, she felt him
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lie beside her, his hand tracing circles over her belly and thighs. When his
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hand brushed the hair at belly's base, she felt for the first time how her
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body responded to such touch. Never before had she known the sensations now
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from her groin to enervate all of her body, her entire being.
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She felt him shift, and felt his leg cover hers, his body sliding over
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hers, the moistness of the thin fluid from his manhood leaving a cool trace on
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her thigh. He knelt between her knees, and she saw the jutting stiffness
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throbbing on his thighs. She watched with detachment as he rocked forward,
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coming to rest on one elbow placed by her shoulder, and felt the round
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prodding in the soft flesh behind her pubic bone. It slipped around, opening
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the now moist lips, pushing ever toward the opening the soft folds concealed.
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It surprised her that her hips were moving to meet him, thrusting as if they
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had a life of their own.
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The pressure increased as he lowered himself further, and she felt her hips
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rocking to bring her softness to his hard probe. Her legs lifted her groin to
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meet him, and felt the round head slip into the vestibule behind the muscles
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concealed in the folds. Inward it pressed until she felt impaled to the core
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of her being. Taken to the very depths of her body and soul. Inward and out
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she felt the smooth friction, rocking with each movement in rhythm with his.
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Forever or a moment, she had no concept of how long it had been. An
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eternity of tension, released in a shudder of moments or hours, she had no
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idea what had happened within her being. The moment, or hours, passed into
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stupor, from which she rose again to shudder in pleasure. The fire within her
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ebbed and flowed, warming and cooling, rising and ebbing, filling her with
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sensations she knew nothing of.
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She felt the thickening and lengthening within her, then the spurting
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throbbing of that hard core inside. One last time the fires inside her flared
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to extinguish her awareness of her surroundings and self. The weight on her
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belly and his warm breath on her cheek gave her indication the movement was
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ended, and slowly she wakened again to awareness of him, the now softening,
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shrinking between the folds and the muscles below. At last the roundness
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slipped from her, and he rose to kneel by her feet again.
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He rose to his feet, and slowly dressed. She watched as his body was
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covered in cloth, and wondered if he would dress her too. When he was
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dressed, he sat by her side, stroking her hair and caressing her cheek. He
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lifted her to a sitting position, and kissed her cheek and forehead. For the
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first time she looked into his eyes, and saw a the reflection of herself,
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sitting. For a moment she thought she would stroke his cheek, but his hand
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caught her arm as it rose.
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She felt the cord loop over her fingers, and closed her hand to allow the
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loop to pass. It tightened around her wrist, and tenderly he pulled that arm
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to her other. He tied both wrists together, and idly she wondered how he would
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get her dressed while tied like this.
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He drew her to her feet, and brought out a chain from a pocket, looped it
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around her neck, and locked it with a small padlock. He led her to where her
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clothes were lying, and picked them up and put them on the pad, which he
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rolled and tucked under his arm.
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She followed as calmly and quietly as before, accepting the leash as if it
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belonged. Over the bridge and up the gentle slope she followed, onto the path
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to the parking lot. The park was abandoned, so no one could see her being led
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by the chain to a van parked alone. He opened the door and helped her climb
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in, and fastened the leash to the grab rail on the dash. The cold plastic on
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her warm behind felt new and strange, so odd and different, as the evening had
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been.
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He entered his side, and started the engine. The road rolled under them at
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a leisurely pace. Away from the town, the road was lonely and dark, lit only
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by headlights and the moon above. He drove to the side and stopped after a
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while, and opened the glove box and pulled out a blindfold which he tied over
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her eyes.
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For a while longer she felt the swaying and rolling as they traveled the
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road once more. The sound of the tires changed as he drove over gravel,
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slowly and carefully he guided the van up the drive. He stopped the engine,
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and she heard him get out, then her door opened and she heard the chain being
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taken from the rail. He helped her get out, and she felt grass under her feet
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as he led her away. The grass gave way to the smooth tile of a walk, and then
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she was stopped and heard him open a door. He led her inside, and closed the
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door again, then led her down a hallway that echoed strangely. She heard
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another door open, was turned to go through, then stopped and seated at the
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edge of what she took for a bed.
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He looped the chain through the frame of the bed, and she heard the lock
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snap in. He untied her hands, then rose. Expectantly she waited for what was
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to come, but all she heard were his steps as he walked out and closed the
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door. She waited in vain; he did not return. At last she lifted her hands to
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her face, and took the blindfold from her eyes.
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