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Around The Park is available from Amazon.
Anne ran home from work, taking a different route every day, to keep the experience fresh. Except for Tuesdays, when she always went the same way.
The large, honey coloured blocks of the shoulder high wall were blackened from years of traffic fumes. She always worried what the air pollution could be doing to her lungs when she saw the accumulation of soot and fumes like that. It was why, most of the time, she ran along river banks or around parks.
Like the one she was coming up to. The break in the wall revealed two flights of steps up and into the greenery. The front edges of the steps were worn down into shallow U shapes, the legacy of a century of feet. At the top of the steps were gate posts with a simplified fleur-de-lys carved into them, topped by squat, square based pyramids. Ornate wrought iron gates hung from the posts. They were latched back against little posts, and the shrubs behind each of them reached out thin branches and deep green leaves as if to grasp them.
The park wasn’t very large, a rectangle about the length of a football pitch, but not as wide. At one end, to Anne’s right, beds had been cut out of the grass, and now were a display of reds, whites and yellows, all the flowers in full bloom. The other end of the space was lawn, lightly concave out from the middle of the space to the neat edges along the sides of the path around the perimeter. There was a gate at each corner, and two more halfway along the longest walls- the one Anne had come in through, and another directly opposite.
Anne stopped for a moment. She put her head back and shook sweat dampened dark blonde curls. The strand of hair that had stuck itself to her forehead didn’t move, so she pushed it back from where it had been tickling her eyebrow. She took a swig from the water bottle in her right hand, then got the wrap around sunglasses sitting on the bridge of her pert nose again.
She found the cable that swirled from the phone, in its holster on her upper right arm, and pressed the button to stop playback. Then she pulled the buds from her ears. There was nowhere to store the cable in her tight jogging outfit, so she tucked a short length of the cable under the strap of her crop top. It would do to hold it in place for as long as she needed.
The shrubbery and trees formed a barrier, keeping out the fumes and noise from the road. Anne listened to the rustle of the branches and leaves in a light breeze. The green murmur was joined by the happy shouts of children at the far end of the park, enjoying running around and throwing themselves on to the short grass of the lawn.
After another swig from the bottle, she jogged on the spot for a moment, getting her rhythm back, then set off around the path to the opposite gate. As she passed the children, one of them, a little girl in a pale blue dress, pointed at her. She waved back, and the child laughed and ran off to play with her friends.
There was a small pavilion at this end of the park. It was more of a large shed with an open front and a bench along the back wall, closer to an old fashioned, brick built bus shelter than its name suggested. Sitting on the bench, chatting and occasionally checking up on the children, were two young mothers. On the other end of the bench, a young man- late teens or early twenties- looked up from his phone screen and, with no subtlety at all, watched Anne as she jogged past.
It was always gratifying to be checked out. Since she had started running, Anne had tightened up the slight flab she had been self-conscious about, and was very comfortable in her body. Affirmation, in the form of the male gaze, was always welcome, though.
She was short and trim, with shapely legs and arms. Her flat stomach was on show, thanks to the tight crop top, which made the most of her small breasts. The skin tight jogging bottoms showed off the firm roundness of her buttocks. She slowed a little, and adjusted her gait to put a roll into the cheeks. She might as well give the horny teenager something to stare at, she decided, grinning.
Reaching the corner of the lawn, Anne sped up again, sprinting half the length of the park to get to the gate. Through the gate, Anne entered a quiet street. Dead ending against the park, it wasn’t going to get any through traffic, though at this time of day there was the occasional car returning from the commute. She jogged along the pavement, rather than down the middle of the road, as she would have liked.
The tall, semi detached houses were dark red brick and stone, set back from the pavement by tiny yards. Most of them had been broken down into flats, for young professionals. Anne dodged around an opening car door, giving silent evil vibes toward the suit wearing idiot who had almost knocked her down. She forgot the incident quickly, not letting it tamp down the excitement as she approached her destination.
On the corner of the junction with a larger cross road was a newer building. It was set further from the street. Built in paler, almost orange, brick, it was a dull, square three storey block, with white plastic window frames and dark brown painted front door. Anne looked around, though she wasn’t sure what she was checking for, then walked briskly to the door.
Beside the door was a brushed metal plate with buttons for the nine flats. Anne pressed number four. Almost immediately, there was a buzz and light clunk as the door lock released. She pushed through, and all but ran across the foyer to the stairs. Climbing it two steps at a time, she grasped the bannister and swung her weight around the turn on the landing.
Number four was right beside the top of the stairs. The door was already cracked open, waiting for her. She bustled inside and closed it behind her.
Simon was waiting for her beside the door. He was already naked, and had clearly been thinking about her arrival. She dropped the water bottle, and reached out for his erection. He caught her hand, just as she knew he would. Pushing her against the door, he lifted her hand up and pressed it against the top of the frame. She kept it there when he released it, and let him lift her other hand up to join it.
Crossing her wrists, Anne pretended her hands were now tied up above her head. She showed that she was happy to let him do what he wanted with her.
Simon dropped to his knees before Anne. He kissed her naked midriff, flicking his tongue around her navel, as his hands found the waistband of her jogging pants. They grasped either side, and pulled them down to her ankles in one easy move. She wore nothing under the pants, so now his face was on a level with her naked crotch.
Hands spread Anne’s knees, so that they could travel up the insides of her thighs to the warmth of her labia, which were fully exposed under her neatly trimmed bush. Simon’s left hand moved up to her mons, to run a thumb across the swatch of short hair that remained. His right hand stopped just short of her warm and waiting sex, teasing her with its proximity.
Anne bent her knees some more, trying to lower herself onto the fingers that pointed straight up into her. Of course, Simon moved them down just as far.
Now, she was beginning to wish she really were tied to the door frame. With her feet trapped close together by the joggers around her ankles, and her knees bent the way they were, she didn’t feel very stable. She could bring her hands down and grasp the outside of the door frame, but she didn’t want to do that until instructed.
As she strained to look down at what was happening around her sex, the shades slipped down Anne’s nose. They didn’t quite go far enough to fall off, maybe because she scrunched up her nose to flare the nostrils and catch it. Simon looked up. He could probably see his reflection in the glass of the shades, and grinned at it as he fed two fingers into her.
The digits only went in to the first knuckles, then they swirled around, trying to touch every last bit of her entrance. Now Anne was trembling, her balance even less steady.
Simon took pity on her. “Show me your tits.” he commanded, freeing her hands.
The elasticated band that ran around under her breasts fastened at the back, like a bra. Simon wrapped his left arm around her right leg to support her as she unfastened the clasps. Countering that helping hand, the other pushed the fingers deep inside her, providing a distraction to fight.
With the top loosened, Anne rolled it up over her breasts, then fought it over her head and down her arms. It and her shades joined the water bottle on the floor. She released the straps that held the phone on her arm, and let it drop into the pile as well.
Anne felt the fingers leave her, and was disappointed. It was brief, though, as she heard the crackle of the velcro fasteners on one of her trainers being released. Simon lifted her left foot just enough to pull the trainer, and then the leg of the pants, off.
Simon didn’t bother with the other trainer. He planted her left foot so that she was balanced again, though the extra padding of the sole on her remaining trainer made her feel skewed. He stood up. He was almost a foot taller than her. When he was this close, his erection pressed against her belly, the head enticingly close to the bottom of her cleavage. “Against the wall, on the bed or on the floor?” he asked.
Anne didn’t know what she wanted. There was a thrill to having sex up against the wall, with him lifting her up and pressing her against it to hold her in place, but she hardly ever came that way. It had been a hard day at the office, and she really wanted the release of a good climax. The floor offered similar added illicit pleasures, but she didn’t want the carpet burns. “The bed.” she said.
Simon turned and walked toward the bedroom. Anne bent to release her other trainer and pull of her pants. She practically hopped along the short corridor as she did this, so eager was she to get to the bed. She discarded the pants by the bathroom door, and was now naked but for the smart watch, which would be registering some interesting heart activity. Simon watched her from the doorway, barely keeping down his smile as he played the dominant role. As she passed him, he grabbed her left butt cheek with a smack that made her jump.
“How do you want me?” Anne asked as she walked ahead of Simon to the bed.
“Hands and knees.” he said.
Climbing onto the bed, Anne planted herself firmly on her hands and knees in the middle of the mattress. Her behind faced the bottom of the bed and, she knew, the window. The room was light, the curtain wasn’t drawn. The window faced the side wall of another house, with its own window directly opposite. Anne often wondered if whoever lived behind that window ever saw what she did on this bed with Simon every Tuesday. Well, every Tuesday they didn’t go at it in the hallway, or one of the other rooms. She wiggled her buttocks, just in case she was giving anyone a show.
She glanced to the side, to see Simon picking up a condom from the bedside table. She knew from experience that he would have left others in convenient spots around the flat. He unwrapped the sheath as he walked around to the foot of the bed. There was an excruciating pause between him leaving her field of vision and the feeling of the mattress sinking as he climbed onto it.
Simon slapped Anne’s butt again, lightly, just a playful swat. Then his hands landed on her cheeks, grasping and squeezing them. Anne pushed back at the hands, trying to find the cock that was somewhere behind them. He was too strong to let her move, though, and she knew it. But it was fun to play.
“Hold still, or you don’t get it.” Simon said. Did he mean it? Just in case, Anne froze in place.
Simon’s hands ran over Anne’s buttocks, stroking and kneading the smooth skin. Then they worked their way down the backs of her thighs, stopping to rest in the crook at the back of her knees. She was so sensitive there that he hardly had to move his fingers. He scraped knuckles across the erogenous zone, and she bit her lip, trembling with pleasure and anticipation.
The hands left the back of Anne’s knees. She stifled a disappointed sound, knowing where they were going next. They travelled up the insides of her thighs, stopping to run little circles whenever the muscle twitched in response to them.
Eventually, Simon’s left hand came up to cup and squeeze Anne’s butt. His right rested over her sex, pressing against the warmth and wetness. It moved in small circles, the palm pushing and pulling her lips whilst the tips of his fingers played with her clitoris through the fleshy hood over it. Like some shy creature being coaxed into the open, the little bud grew and stiffened until it poked out.
If he touched the button right now, she would squeal. It would be too intense. But he knew that, and his fingers slid either side of it as they moved down. They parted her labia, and two slid into her. Not what she wanted now, but a nice enough alternative.
Simon’s hand pumped back and forth, building its tempo as she grew more excited. She was getting wetter, and he slid in and out of her easily. It didn’t matter what he had told her earlier, she began pushing back against him. She gave voice to her pleasure, in case he hadn’t noticed.
Anne dropped onto her elbows. She pulled handfuls of the sheets to herself, and buried her face in them. They hardly stifled her cries.
She was so, so close to orgasm when he stopped. His fingers left her, and she felt empty. She pushed back, but his hands were there again, stopping her.
Did he want her to whimper? To beg for is cock? Because she would, if that was what it took.
She was trying to find the appropriate words when she felt movement. He had shuffled forwards. His hands had moved as well. One of them caught his shaft as it homed in on her sex, and guided it between the wet lips. After all the noise she had made whilst he played his fingers inside her, now she couldn’t make a sound.
Simon thrust all the way into Anne, until the skin of their thighs slapped together. She let her elbows slide forward, until she was stretched out flat on the mattress, and her hands were against the wall. She wanted him to pound her hard, and he always did that best when she was like this, with her butt tilted up ever so slightly.
Anne twisted her hips, lifting her butt up into the air. Simon helped her get into just the right position, then planted his hands either side of her shoulders. He pulled back, drawing out of her, and leaving her empty again, then thrust back in hard. That was what she wanted.
Simon soon had the rhythm that Anne wanted. Long, hard and fast pumps of his penis inside her. The only sound was the slap of their skin together and the grunts that kept time with it. As Simon drove on, Anne’s grunts took on an ever higher pitch.
She screamed out as she came.
Never mind what the neighbours across from the window saw. What did the people in the flats above and below hear on a Tuesday? If she hadn’t been on a plateau of pleasure from Simon’s still insistent movements inside her, Anne might have had a little laugh at that thought. Instead, she was making quite different noises.
Simon held himself in place at the end of a thrust. Anne took a deep breath, feeling a peak rising up from the plateau. He hadn’t just climaxed, but he was close. She recognised the moment. He pulled out slowly, deliberately, holding the semen inside. Then he made another flurry of hard fast thrusts. This time, when he pressed hard against her, he let out a sound that was part grunt and part sigh. Anne imagined she could feel the condom filling up, deep inside her.
They stayed like that for a while. Then Simon reached down, clasping the end of the condom as he pulled out of her. With an easy move, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling the sheath off. Anne rolled onto her side to watch as he knotted it and tossed it into a bin beside the bedside cabinet. He turned to her and laid a hand on her hip.
“I’m still not much good at that dominant thing.” Simon said, as his fingers traced a line down to Anne’s waist, then back up to her breasts. He played with a nipple, absent mindedly.
“You did fine.” Anne told him. “Next time, I’ll push you back onto the bed and ride you hard.” She checked her watch. “We could make next time now. I think I have the time. How soon can you get it back up?”
Simon stood and turned to Anne. She studied him. It was a lovely penis, by any standard. Soft, it was still fat from the blood that had been pumping into it so recently. She imagined it twitched and stretched as she watched. “I can get it up in no time. A little helping hand, or head, will speed it up, though.”
Anne grinned. “Okay, but not while it tastes of condom. Go wash that off.”