by Stasia Black
Shit. Would it help or hurt my case if I explained that I was only there as a publicity stunt?
“And you know what?” Her voice gentles. “I used to be just the same as you. I looked at homeless people and they seemed so foreign to me. I wondered the same things you probably wonder. How can they live like that? Why can’t they get their crap together and just become productive members of society? Sure, San Francisco’s expensive, so just move somewhere cheaper. What’s wrong with them?” She shakes her head but then looks my way. “But now I am them.”
We have to split apart to maneuver around a group of people in business attire who are laughing and talking. Probably headed to happy hour. I come back to Scarlet’s side and we’re stopped by another light. We jog in place and my gaze locks on hers. “You’re right. I have thought those things about homeless people.”
She nods as if satisfied, but I’m not finished. “I’ve never thought that about you, though. Not once. I don’t know what landed you there, but I can only imagine it was horrible. I hope one day you’ll tell me about it.”
Her eyes and nostrils flare at that, her mouth going into a hard line. That struck a nerve. Before I can try to press further because fuck, I just want to know everything about this woman, the light turns and Scarlet’s jogging again.
She’s also talking. “You talk nice, but you haven’t been there.” Her voice comes out breathy and slightly stuttered because of her jogging steps and I have to lean to hear her as we continue forward. “One day everything is like it’s always been your whole life and then the next,” she shakes her head, eyes distant as if she’s reliving it, “everything changes, just like that.” She snaps and her eyes shoot briefly over to look at me.
They linger there only a moment before she looks ahead, her pace steady. Always steady.
But we keep jogging and she doesn’t say anything else
“What happened then?”
She looks over at me as if startled that I’m still here. We’re jogging down the last long stretch and the park is visible in the distance.
Her lips press together and she swallows. We’ve been running for about a mile and a half now and sweat slicks her forehead, matting some of her blonde hair against her temple.
“My life was no picnic before,” she says, “but it was nothing compared to seeing what human beings do to one another every day when the normal rules of society don’t apply.” Bitterness is thick in her voice and her jaw locks after this ominous statement.
She starts pumping her arms faster, running with even more determination and pushing her pace even though I can tell she won’t be able to keep it up for long.
“Hey,” I say, making a pretense of being winded. “I like to keep it slower this early in the run. If I spend it all by mile two, then I’ve got nothing for the finish.”
Her eyes narrow at me, but she adjusts her pace. I see her breathing even out and keep my face blank of any satisfaction that she’s having an easier time of it now. I have a feeling this woman hates to be given even an inch.
“We’re getting close to the park.” Her voice holds excited relief. Maybe she’s not used to running this kind of distance after all because she sounds really stoked about getting to the park. That will be our halfway point. We’ll head in for about a mile and a half before turning around.
Would Scarlet open up more if I ask her what she meant about what people do to each other when societies rules don’t apply? Christ, there was just a story in the news about a video that surfaced of a homeless man being tortured in the very park we’re heading toward. What kind of shit did she see out there?
We cross Baker Street and are finally out of traffic and onto a dirt path. We aren’t in the park proper yet, just the panhandle that extends several blocks to the east, but I can see why Scarlet wanted to come out this way. Even the scent of the towering oaks and other greenery is refreshing after the endless stink of city. We passed just through the northern tip of the Tenderloin District and while it looks all right during the daytime, at night that place is just a cesspool of crime and the homeless—
I trip up on my own thoughts at the word. Aw fuck. Scarlet was right. I do think about the homeless as them.
I glance over at her as if she can read my thoughts. Of course she can’t. Her gaze is laser focused ahead. Right. Because we’re jogging. Exercise. That’s what this is about. And spending time together, even if it’s more significant to me than it is to her. I know I’m rich and I’m providing an opportunity for her. This arrangement is transactional by nature. Scarlet was very upfront about that.
But what about her opening up to you just now?
She didn’t have to tell me any of that about her past. She didn’t have to come jogging with me either. Sure, I might have fantasized about things being a little different between us, but really I’d just love to see more than the brief glimpses of her I get as she delivers my meals.
She’s been clear about the arrangement she wants, though.
Then again, there was the thrift store.
Goddammit, is this attraction one-sided or not? The more days that pass, the more I start thinking that those stolen moments in front of the mirror in the furniture section were just another fantasy of mine. A fucking vivid fantasy, sure, but just a creation of my imagination nonetheless.
We’ve covered the half mile of the park’s panhandle and finally enter the park proper. Scarlet takes the lead and heads off the main road onto a smaller trail to the right. I follow, quickly catching up. The trail is barely wide enough for me to jog shoulder to shoulder with her.
She’s jogging with what seems like a single-minded determination. Her arms pump hard, her eyes are focused in front of her, and her long, slim legs stretch to their full extension with each footfall. She pulls ahead of me, arms slicing through the air. She cuts onto an even narrower path, extending her lead since now we’re forced to jog single file. Her long blonde ponytail swings back and forth in front of me.
She did say she liked nature and this path heads into a thickly wooded area. The forest is made up of unusual trees. Oaks, maybe? They aren’t the towering redwoods I know grow deeper in the park. No, these branch out close to the ground, with several trunks springing upwards from the forest floor that fork off in multiple Y splits.
And green. Green everywhere. Tiny green leaves sprouted from the trees. Then there’s the bright green of the grass. And the shrubs that have sprouted up at the base of the oaks.
If I couldn’t hear the distant traffic from a few blocks away, I’d swear Scarlet worked some fairy magic shit and transported us back to the land of her people. When I run here, I usually just stick to the main paved trails that run through the center of the park.
I’m so busy taking in everything, I barely notice that Scarlet’s stopped in front of me. I slow down just before I plow into her.
“Whoa,” I say, stopping and rubbing at my sweaty hairline with my forearm. “Want to take a breather?” I’m panting myself. She was setting a mean pace that last little bit. I lean over and put my hands on my knees.
“Actually, I want you to fuck me.”
Chapter 5
I almost swallow my tongue as I jerk my head to look up at Scarlet.
“What?” The high-pitched question doesn’t sound like it came from my throat, but then again, those words couldn’t have just come from her mouth. I swing my head to look around us, but we’re all alone on this little barely-there path.
“I said,” Scarlet’s voice comes out clear and articulated, and when I look back at her, I see that indeed, she is the one speaking, perfectly calmly, eyes direct on me, “I’m going to go a little ways into the woods over there,” she points behind her, “bend over, and I want you to cram me full of your cock.”
She reaches into the side of her bra, tugging it down a little and exposing more of those luscious breasts and holy fuck—
What the hell is going on right now?
I swing my head around again because. Wha
t. The. Fuck?
When Scarlet produces a foil-wrapped condom, I scrub a hand down my face. Okay, it’s official. This is a dream. One of those super-charged sex-deprived dreams. I haven’t gotten laid for, what? Over three and a half weeks, since all that drama went down with my ex. And having Scarlet in my house is just doing a number on me—
Dream Scarlet slaps the condom in my hand.
It sure feels fucking real.
“What’s going on?” It comes out as a whisper.
Scarlet’s eyebrows furrow. “I see the way you look at me.”
I feel my neck go hot. Shit. Guess I’m not as suave as I thought I was about hiding that shit. “I’m sorry—”
“I’m not,” she cuts me off. “Not if you’re willing to do something about it.”
Fuck. Just like that, I’m hard. All the blood rushing south, use my dick as a pick-ax kind of hard.
Her eyes shoot toward the trees off to the side of the path. With that, she leaves the condom in my hands and heads toward the cluster of oaks, pulling the tiny shirt she’s wearing off over her head as she goes. The bra follows.
I stand there blinking for a long moment.
Not real. None of this can be fucking real.
But remember the thrift store? Maybe she’s just freaky like this and likes it out in public?
If that’s true, then holy shit, this might be real. And Scarlet just invited me to plow that sweet field. Dirty, dirty angel.
That’s enough to galvanize me into action. I take off in the direction Scarlet went. The trees aren’t that thick. Even from the trail, I can still see the flash of pale skin, the glint of white-blonde hair. She didn’t go that far. She’s off the beaten path, but far from completely hidden.
My girl likes it naughty.
I don’t even have a moment to question the my part of my girl, though, because as I round a tree, Scarlet comes into full view.
Every glorious, completely naked inch of her.
She stripped it all off. Even her underwear. She’s leaning over, completely naked, her perfect apple-bottomed ass sticking out. Holy fuck, her legs are spread and even from here I can glimpse her beautiful, glistening pink pussy.
That image alone is enough to kill me but what makes my cock jump in my shorts is her hand buried in her cunt going to town on herself.
She’s holding herself up with her other hand on the curving trunk of the tree. Her hair’s undone from its tie and when she tosses her head to look over her shoulder at me, the fall of blonde cascading down her back makes her look absolutely otherworldly.
Fucking temptress wood nymph.
I move toward her like I’m in a trance. Completely under her spell.
As soon as I do, she turns her head back to the tree and braces both her hands against the trunk, leaning down further and sticking her ass out even more, swaying it back and forth slightly.
I’m over to her in two strides. As I approach, I move slightly around her so I can see her full breasts dangling like plump, low-hanging fruit. My cock points straight toward her now, begging to get free of my restraining shorts.
I don’t know what to touch first. I want to explore every inch of her. Not being able to resist one more second, I dip one hand around and palm one of those gorgeous breasts.
Fuuuuuuuuuuuck, it’s just as sweet and soft as I thought it might be. Christ, she’s all real, luscious woman. Not fake and plastic like too many women I’ve been with.
I can’t help shoving my rock hard cock against that luscious ass of hers. She wiggles back against me and fuck, I’m going to bust through the nylon shorts I’m wearing.
I can smell her cunt. She’s wet. She’s fucking sopping.
“Tell me to fuck you.” I lean over and rasp in her ear. “I want to hear your innocent little mouth say that word again.”
“Get on with it and fuck me,” she growls, arching her back and grinding her ass into me.
Christ, fuck, I was going to move slower. I’ve been fantasizing about how I’d take Scarlet all week. It’d be a slow seduction. Wine. Rose petals. That kind of shit.
“Fucking fuck me,” she hisses, and it’s a lot louder than a whisper, like she’s daring someone to catch us.
And it just tips something over the edge for me. I rip the condom wrapper open.
“Fuck me,” she says again, even louder.
I push my shorts down, grab my thick cock and a second later have the condom down the shaft.
Then before I can slow down or think about what I’m doing, I’ve grabbed her pale white hips, lined myself up, and shoved inside her sweet little cunt.
I grunt out low with every inch I push in. After the first breach, reason seems to smack me upside the head. Or maybe it’s just that everything gets hyper-focused, all my senses seem more enhanced as a result.
Her pussy is like a fucking vise around me. I’ve never felt anyone so hot or tight.
“That’s right,” I pant, “that’s right, honey, let me in.”
I keep pushing until I’m all the way in, bottoming out inside her. As much as I want to pull out and start jacking in and out of her like a goddamned battering ram, using her and fucking her exactly like she was begging just a moment ago, there’s something about the way her whole body has gone tense and rigid. I have an arm around her waist and another against the tree right by hers to hold myself up and shit, that’s when I pinpoint what it is I’m feeling—she’s shaking in my arms. Trembling. I feel it everywhere, from the inside out since she’s impaled by me.
“Shh, baby.” I push aside the hair at the back of her neck and kiss her there, over and over, unable to bear the thought that I might have hurt her. “I got you. I got you, honey.”
I kiss her up to her ear, soothing and whispering I don’t even know what—shit that’s certainly never come out of my mouth before. I just know I want her to feel good. Safe. I want to bring her pleasure. I want her to fly in my arms, to lose her shit, just like she did when she was touching herself in front of that mirror at the store.
But I don’t want her eyes distant like they were then. I want her with me. I want her aware each and every moment whose dick is stuffed up inside her. Giving it to her.
My hand around her waists drifts down to her mound. She’s unshaved though neatly trimmed. She’s natural. I glimpsed it in the store, sure, but feeling it is something completely different. Another reminder that she’s unlike any other woman I’ve been with. That she’s real.
I growl in her ear and dip lower to suck at her neck. I move my hips the slightest bit to shift in her as I roll my fingers through the top of her curls, seeking the little bud there.
It’s killing me, not moving inside her, but I do it. I’ll go as slow as she needs. She jerks beneath me but doesn’t pull away. She doesn’t pull off my cock either.
She swallows though, and I notice her fingers go white-knuckled on the tree bark. She’s waiting for me to make the next move. And fuck me, but I swear I get harder inside her. Because as brazen as she was about getting us in this position, I don’t think she’s ever done this kind of thing before. She’s not some kind of nymphomaniac with an extensive history of kinky public sex. Whatever this compulsion is, it’s new and she’s trying it out with me.
I suck harder at her neck at the same time my fingers dip beneath that hood at the top of her pussy. I swirl my index finger over her clit and her back arches into me.
Only then do I slide my cock out of her, almost to the tip before pushing back in at a tortuous pace.
Holy motherfucking—
All my nerve-endings feel lit on fire. I drop my head and lean my forehead against her back. She’s still trembling but her hips move slightly back and forth in what I can only assume is her attempt at an encouraging motion.
It’s such a naïve gesture, like that of someone who’s just beginning at sex and doesn’t know what they want yet or how to get it. Which only speaks more to her inexperience. She’s an angel after all in spite of her brash talk. And she
’s letting me be the one to dirty her up. Fuck if I don’t want it. I want it bad.
I lean back on my heels so I can balance just on my legs to free up my hands. This way I can keep playing with her while grabbing one of those sweet titties with the other hand. I take her nipple between my fingers and squeeze and pinch and roll it.
She pitches forward, letting out a high-pitched squeak of surprise. I pump my hips even harder, pulling my chest from her back even as I keep torturing her nipple.
But I need to see it—oh yeah, that’s right. I watch my cock plowing into her, disappearing into the place between those ripe ass cheeks of hers.
Her waist is so slim and then it curves out into that fabulous ass. That ass. Goddamn, that ass. I drop her breast and grab her waist and pump in and out, in and out, watching my cock take her and take her.
Christ, the visual plus the feel of her around me, so fuckin’ insane. I bottom out and swirl my hips all around, feeling every contour of her from the inside out.
For a minute I lose myself in it, pumping away, closing my eyes and fucking, just fucking. Then I have to open my eyes, hungry for the sight of her, to watch myself conquering that ass.
Which is when I see that she’s not loose at all anymore. Both her hands are on the tree and she’s bent over and just…taking it.
I can see a little bit of her face. And there’s nothing there. She looks vacant. Her eyes aren’t closed. She’s staring off into the trees but she might as well be scrolling through her Instagram feed for as much interest as she’s paying to what’s going on—to the fact that I’m inside her.
What the actual fuck?
What happened to the woman coming apart in my arms just moments ago?
I let go of her hips and yank my t-shirt off over my head. Then, to my cock’s great protest, I pull out of her slick cunt.
“Are you finished?” Scarlet asks, looking back at me in surprise.
I leave my incredulousness for another time. I have bigger things to deal with right now. Number one, teaching this girl that I know how to fuck her the right way.
Christ, I swear here and now that she’ll never be left wondering if we’re fucking finished.