In my high heeled boots, I stalk the city. On the prowl in my high heeled, leather boots. A mark or victim, shall I say; perhaps potential fuck would be more accurate, awaits me insolently at the corner, he watches me approaching. Eyes me shamelessly, up then down, his hands are in his seedy pockets. Caressingly he watches me approach. Me, in my high heeled, leather boots with micro-mini riding up my thigh at every single step. Getting shorter with each step.
Just to show him two can play this game I'm also eyeing him. With each step my skirt is getting shorter. My legs are growing longer. With each step, approaching him, the man who stands at the corner waiting for the light to change waits for me, waits for me to cross the street. Side by side we cross, sensing one another using some of our five senses. Smell. Taste. Touch. Hear. See. Others we'll reserve for later, for later when we'll be alone, away from prying public eyes.
My skirt rides up with every step. My legs are growing longer and I'm breathing greedy gulps of air. Downtown car exhaust and air. I sense his broad wide shoulders and his height, his large dense bones. I sense the sticky scent of testosterone. I sense his clear cold eyes. I sense his heat. I sense that he's in heat. He, in turn, senses heat in me. He senses my fragility and my thick blond hair. He senses he could sink himself in me and he could hear me whimper. He senses he would feel so big; he senses that he would feel hard and strong, and that he would feel very manly; he senses that his cock would feel gigantic. He senses me with my tight cunt. He senses my small round breasts. I sense him sinking into me. I sense him fingering my tits, I sense my nipples stiffen.
We cross the street like this together, sensing one another's bodies. It is obscene what we are doing here, in public, with people all around us, walking, driving, running, wheeling. It is obscene what we are doing here, like this. We have crossed the street. We glance each other up and down. I see his dick defined by gabardine and I long to touch it, long to press my lips against it. I wish he were my father. I wish he were your father. I wish he was a father. His dick defined by gabardine is ready. I want to call him daddy. Daddy fuck me please, I want to say to him when we are alone. I'm wanting him to spank me and tell me that I'm bad. To call me girl. Bad girl, I want to hear him say while he spanks me with a rubber paddle. He's old enough to be a daddy. He does look old enough to be. Perhaps not mine but someone's daddy and yes, he wears a wedding band on his left hand. So many of them don't.
We eye each other up and down. He nods. He gestures. He points at a hotel down the street. I walk with him, I follow him inside. I follow him into the lobby, potted plants and wallpaper, easy chairs and couches and most importantly a desk, a girl behind the desk, and keys behind the girl behind the desk. A telephone, a ledger and a smile. She smiles at him, not me. He appears to be the one of us with credit cards. Expectantly she smiles at the handsome man as he approaches her desk, her ledger, her telephone and keys.
He slips his wallet from his pocket, he's passing her the plastic and I watch his hands, his broad wide hands, his thick long fingers and I imagine sucking them, imagine fucking them and now I'm wet between my trembling legs. I want to call him daddy and I'm wanting him to spank me. This is what I'm thinking while he signs us in, telling her we have no luggage, maybe winking as he says it. Then he grasps my hand with his, the hand without the key, and takes me to the elevator. He presses the green UP arrow. We step in through the sliding open door, we ride up to the fourteenth floor where we step out through the open sliding door. Where we step into a hallway dimly lit with golden lamps, muted music and where the carpeting is soft and floral patterned beige and hunter green. The walls are clad in misty minty green of sorts.
He keys the door which whispers shut behind our backs. He presses me against it. He rubs my skirt up higher with his thick broad hand, the hand that wears the wedding band. I can barely breathe but I want more. He rubs my thighs apart. I want a spanking more than ever and I want to call him daddy and yes, I want to be his naughty little girl.
With two firm hands he rips the crotch out of my hose and then he spreads my labia, he spreads my cunt apart with broad thick fingers. He leans back. He reaches for my hand and places it upon my cunt.
Touch yourself he tells me. Masturbate, he says. His voice is husky, breathless. I like to watch, he says with breathless husky voice. I prod my clit and feel it tighten. Then he inserts his finger, long and thick, he wiggles it around.
I touch the gabardine; I touch his dick beneath the gabardine and feel the fabric damp. He slips off his pants. He takes his cock in hand, he pushes it against me, he rubs my throbbing clit with it. Daddy, I whisper. Daddy, I whimper. Daddy, I whisper, reaching for his cock.
What, he says hoarsely. What's that sweet babe? His voice caresses me. Tell me what you want my little baby doll. Carelessly his creamy voice caresses me.
Fuck, I say, I want to fuck.
Baby wants a fuck, he says. I knew you were the one. I knew that you were hot for me, out there on the street. As he speaks, he feeds to me his ten inch cock a little at a time, a push, then wait, a push, then wait. The way you walk - push -- the way you hold your head -- push -- your high heeled boots, your short short skirt -- push. The way you swing your hair as if you own the universe. You want a fuck is what that says, you'll fuck with anyone and everyone is what that says.
He's fed me the whole thing, it fills me to the brim, I could be satisfied with this cock in me all the time. I would be never hungry with all this cock in me all the time. Good girl, he mutters. Very good.
Very bad, I whisper.
Bad, he says, oh yes, you are a naughty little girl. Here, he tells me and he leads me to a chair. He sets me face-down on his lap, his dick still firm inside, he pushes up my skirt, he rips my hose along the back and then he strikes me with his firm hard hand, two sharp raps upon each buttock.
Daddy, I whimper, please.
More, he says tenderly, does my baby want some more?
Oh yes, I say. My clit is throbbing. My cunt is throbbing and he presses me down onto his cock and thrusts in deeper. Caressing my buttocks gently, soothingly; I writhe beneath his feather fingers.
More he says softly. Yes you are a very naughty little girl. A naughty girl indeed. He strikes me hard this time. I gasp and squirm. Naughty girls like you must be firmly punished. You pick up stranger daddies on the streets and you blow them for a quarter. Don't you lie to me, I've seen you. I have watched you do it. He shoves one finger in my mouth. Like this, he says, like this. Inside your wet hot mouth. You suck them for a quarter, all those stranger daddies' dicks. He strikes me hard. I clench my buttocks and unclench. I'm coming now, all over him, I'm squirting cum all over him and he keeps spanking till I've spent it all. Then he lifts me so I'm straddling his lap, his dick still long inside me. Idly he pushes my hips back and forth, back and forth. Idly he jerks off into me that way, head thrown back, eyes shut tight, he's whispering o-baby-baby-baby, good, yes, baby-baby-baby. And then I feel him come. Next he pulls me close, my head against his chest and holds me in his sweet thick arms.
Yes, I say, oh yes.
Originally published April 2006 - "April Showers"