Chapter 1
The apartment was cool and refreshing.
As the door closed behind her, Leena tugged off her sweatshirt and unhooked her bra. Her breasts were nice and big and shapely, and the cool air made her nipples tighten. A moment later, running shoes and socks joined the pile of discarded garments on the carpeted floor.
She stretched in mid-stride, heading toward the bathroom, and lifted her tits in her palms. Her fingers slid teasingly over the pulpy bulges of her outthrust nipples and sent little electric thrills chasing through her body.
Sensing an increasing stir in her pussy, she yanked off her sweats and her cotton panties in a single motion while she was still outside the bathroom door. A tug at the knot in her hair sent a thick dark cloud of curls swirling gracefully over her bare shoulders.
The air was warmer in the bathroom, but the floor tiles were still cool and arousing under her bare feet. She closed the door behind her and started the water running in the tub.
Raising her arms above her head, Leena turned to inspect her naked figure in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. She tried to view herself objectively as she gazed at her pale-skinned reflection, as if she were viewing her heavy tits and the sensuous sway of her body through the eyes of an admirer...perhaps even his eyes.
She was young, beautiful, maybe not quite perfect, but there wasn't any sag to her ass-or anything else, for that matter. Yes, she had a body that made other women envious. Lord knew, she gave it enough care, constantly watching her diet, jogging daily.
And she would never be satisfied with a man who wasn't equally concerned about his own physical condition. like him.
Did he like big tits? she wondered. Most guys did. But would hers, with her big, pink nipples, turn him on?
The impossible thought that he might some day see them intrigued her, and she wet her fingers and made the pink spikes glisten as she rolled them between her fingertips, causing them to pucker and turn hard.
And what would he think of the thick handful of black curls that covered her crotch? Would he think the contrast with her naturally blonde head curls odd, or would he be pleased by the true beauty of her womanhood?
Imagining her fingers to be his fingers, Leena ruffled them lightly across the curls at the base of her pussy mound, then separated the downy tendrils gingerly so that she could inspect the deep notch of her cunt slit. It turned her on to be looking at herself in such a manner, appraising her naked body and her pussy in the mirror. The bold slash stood out vividly, demanding attention.
Drawing her hand away, she scolded herself for the direction her mind had taken and climbed into the tub. Sure the guy was a hunk, but he was just a fellow jogger she happened to be running into in the mornings, and nothing more than that. He probably already had a steady girlfriend, or maybe even a wife.
Fat chance she had of ever meeting him-let alone ending up under the covers with him. No, she sighed, testing the water with her hand, her luck didn't run to good-looking, and probably well-hung studs.
Not that her own fianc' wasn't good looking. But they had been going together now for nearly a year, and she still hadn't the slightest idea of how well hung he was-or if he was even hung at all, for that matter. Somehow, she had an idea the mysterious jogger would never let a ripe woman wither so long on the vine.
Leena threw some bath oil crystals into the tub then climbed in, sliding her naked body down into the steaming hot water. She lounged back and let the warm water play sensuously over her nude figure. Somehow, whether from staring at herself in the mirror, thinking about the handsome stranger, or a combination of both, she started to get turned on.
She had a decision to make-a real toughy-either she ignored it, or she followed the thing through. And if she tried to ignore it, there was really no guarantee that the sweet ache in her pussy would just magically go away.
Leena's mind began to wander as she ran a soapy washcloth over her tits and worked up a foamy lather. Considering the direction of her thoughts, it wasn't surprising that her fingers lingered over her nipples, making them pucker and turn into hard, thrusting spikes.
It wasn't hard for her to picture the man in her mind's eye, or for her imagination to make the picture complete, filling in the unknown details. He was probably an executive-a junior executive, more than-likely, on his way up. She had no prejudices against a yuppie; she was one herself, actively seeking all the good things life had to offer.
Lying back in the warm water, her soapy hand roamed her body as the picture became more personal. He had a marvelous physique. She had watched the tight flexing of his powerful thigh muscles as he jogged easily just a few yards ahead of her.
Yeah, he was a hunk, all right.
His ass cheeks would be hard, and firm to the touch. Oh Lord, did she even dare think about his equipment? Some women thought men where all a-like in that way, but she knew better. She had only seen a few, but she had studied the ones she had seen enough to know that each dick was different-each had its own personality, so to speak.
And with nothing more to go on than the man's marvelous physique, she could imagine this one any way she wanted it.
Her mind again pictured the man running in front of her, his ass cheeks flexing under his thin running shorts. Then her imagination took over. She stopped him in mid-stride and turned him around. While he stood there, breathing heavy, her eyes roamed him from top to bottom. She had been right-there was a healthy bulge in his shorts, one that promised an impressive tool.
Suddenly, his thin covering dematerialized, and he was standing there, wearing only his Reebok running shoes. Oh, God, she had been right! Her imagination put the picture in motion and he was running again, this time toward her, naked, with his cock flopping from thigh to thigh. It was long and thick and, as he came closer, she could see its fat head bouncing across the tops of his hairy legs.
The picture changed, and they were no longer running in the park, but secluded in the intimacy of a plush bedroom. She was naked, too, and close enough now that she could touch his magnificent staff while his hot breath warmed her body. It was hard, and thick, and it had a slight bow that made it arch upward... the perfect shape to fit the graceful inner curve of her vagina. And his scrotum...yes, that was fat and warm, filled with creamy goodness...the elixir of life, itself.
Her hands-his hands-were moving slowly over her smooth, soapy skin, appreciating the firm-fleshed youthfulness of her fine body, sweeping across her tits, her stomach, creeping slowly underwater and between her legs.
It was a fantasy, of course, but the feelings that arose were very real. One hand continued soaping her tits while a finger from the other hand gently stroked her pussy.
Oh, he was hard! Fucking hard. Her mind savored the term that was so foreign to her vocabulary, but that seemed so right as the heat rose deep in her belly. Fucking... fucking...fucking!
The single word expressed all her yearnings... the craving that she tried so hard to keep under control...the sexual hunger that made her single life so incomplete.
Oh, yes, oh, yes, oh yessss.
Leena knew this was a fantasy, but it was a fantasy that was based on reality. The man was real-she had seen him now every morning for a week-and he had the kind of body any hot-blooded woman would drool over. Yes, there was no doubt that he was blessed with a cock that could do some serious fucking. And there was equally no doubt that it would never fuck her.
Unless...one of them did something about it.
A warm, fuzzy feeling came over Leena, and a hum started between her legs. She welcomed the feeling, and she wanted to encourage it without making it pass too quickly.
Leena's hands moved under the soap-clouded water of the tub.
Her fingers inched toward her pussy. She let out a little gasp as they pushed past her clit and traced the smooth contour of her slit.
She tried to imagine that it was his hand, but it was hard to separate the sensations, to isolate the feelings that came from her fingertips from those aroused by the digits in her cunt. And she didn't really want to separate them, anyway, the mixed excitement was so delicious.
A finger slipped into her pussy slash.
It began rubbing gently.
Another finger joined it, and both fingers began stroking the warm, sticky walls of her cunt. She slid them far back into her slick channel. Her breath thickened, and her vulva pushed upward, filling the palm of her hand.
Secure in the privacy of her own home, she let her voice echo her thoughts. "Do it, stud. Fuck me. Right here in the bathtub. Spread my legs and push your cock in deep. Mash my clit. Make that prick move inside me. Fuck me! Fuck my hungry pussy!"
Leena imagined the impossible position clearly, easily picturing the water sloshing and pouring off his husky body in sheets as he plunged between her legs. The two fingers stroking her wet slit were a big, hard cock, plumbing her depths. Intense excitement charged her nerves.
In another apartment, not too far away, the man of her dreams was stripping off his sweatpants. His cock flopped out. It was an impressive bundle, although nowhere near as massive as Leena had pictured it in her dreams.
He was thinking of her, too. Her rich, blond hair...her dark eyes...rosy lips...cuddly-looking body.
Oh, yes, it was fun picturing that. She had big tits-he knew that from watching their gentle bounce as she ran-too big to be completely tamed by a sports bra. And nice skin-so she probably had a creamy ass...and a cute little black-haired pussy.
His cock erected into a big, thrusting spike.
"Shit!" he murmured. "Just what I need! A goddamn fucking hard-on!"
But, what the hell? He might just as well make the most of it. He certainly hadn't gotten much pussy since breaking up with Mandy.
Ted stepped into the shower and quickly soaped himself down. Since she was the one who had started it all. He let his mind dwell on her as he worked his cock with his fingers, gently jerking it back and forth.
He had spotted her first a week ago when sidewalk repairs had made him detour from his usual jogging route. And, ever since, he had timed his morning outings to match hers. They had been running together, almost side by side, for several days, now, but they had yet to say a word to each other.
Well, he'd have to do something about that, he thought, staring down at his cock. He chuckled. Yes, he'd certainly have to do something about that.
Did she fuck? Or, more specifically, would she fuck him? Or, being even more blunt, what would it take to get her to fuck him?
She was certainly a desirable objective. Those pretty tits would be fun to play with, and he could just imagine she had cute little suckable nipples. Taking a deep breath, he could even imagine her smell as his mouth drooled, anxious for a lick of her cunt.
He shuddered. God, he was horny!
His fingers tightened around his boner, trying to imitate the gentle, persistent stroking of a cock in a pussy. And now, the pussy had a personality. It wasn't just any pussy; it was her pussy.
He deliberately teased himself, easing off to keep from shooting his juice, delaying the culminating eruption as long as possible.
Just as he would if he were fucking between her thighs, pillowing his chest on her tits while her legs squeezed against his stroking hips. Would she be a squealer? Or a moaner?
Whatever, she would be writhing and weaving and breathing hard as his cock drives picked up their tempo. His hand tightened around his prick.
Oh, yes!-she would be tight, sooo tight, and seething with warmth inside.
And juicy, too. He could almost feel her frothy fluids bubbling from her pussy and making his thighs slick and nasty.
That sweet little pussy would twist and twirl and drive him ever closer to bliss.
Mmmmmmmm...Leena's thought became even raunchier as she pushed her fingers ever farther into her pussy. The lips of her pussy widened.
She hated this-hated fucking herself-but what else was a healthy, self-respecting twenty-two-year-old to do to keep her sanity? She couldn't just rip off her clothes like she longed to do and rush right into the guy's arms and beg him to fuck her.
God, she wished she hadn't been raised so properly. She wished she had been raised as a bitch. She wished she'd had more than three lovers in her life. She wished she'd been fucked more than twelve times. She wished she didn't feel so guilty about doing herself. She wished she could fuck that man. Oh, God, she wished she could suck on his cock!
Oh, God, what would that be like? Would a man's dick taste nasty in her mouth? Would it be bitter? Sweet? Would it have any taste at all?
She tried to imagine the feel of a hard, healthy spike poking between her lips...her tongue swirling around its head... the tip locking in the groove that set off its fat tip.
Did they all have a groove like that? She didn't know; she'd never even seen an uncircumcised one. Her girlfriends told her they had flaps of flesh at the end. She couldn't even imagine it.
But his would be circumcised, she just knew it. Just as she knew he would be the type who wouldn't hesitate to duck his head between a woman's legs. Her legs.
That was new to her, too, but she could imagine it more easily than she could the other. A dreamy feeling made her thighs tighten as her fingers toyed with the lips of her pussy, imitating a tongue.
Leena lolled back in the tub of cooling water and spread her knees to give him room to work between her legs.
Would his tongue be rough? No, it would be slick, of course, just like her own-licking her pussy, spreading her cunt lips, pushing gently into her depths.
Oh, yes...that feels sooo delicious.
While one hand played with her pussy, the soapy fingers of the other tweaked the pink spikes of her nipples that rose above the water.
Mmmmmm...oh, they were great, these sexy feelings that roamed all over her body. She felt so alive when she was charged up like this; she wished the feelings would never stop.
And perhaps they wouldn't if she had a husband...or a lover...somebody to lick her cunt and fuck her regularly.
The mouth was wide open now, locked around her cunt. And the tongue was diddling her clit ever so gently, exactly like the motion of her finger. She began to pant as her fingers became bolder, swirling around her clit, rubbing it hard.
She pinched the sensitive nubbin, and a nipple as well, and her thighs arched up out of the water as fiery excitement energized her body.
Oh, God! she whined to herself miserably. Some of my married friends get fucked so often they're bored with it. Yet, I want it so bad and I can't get any. It's so unfair!
"Why can't I fuck that man?" she shouted aloud. "Why?"
Yes, she wanted a hard dick ramming into her hungry cunt. Ramming her, slamming her, just like she knew he would. Water sloshed noisily in the tub as her bare bottom slid on the slippery porcelain, her pussy thrusting to meet her stroking fingers.
Oh, God, yes, that was good! Yes! Yes!
Her fingers burrowed deeper into her cunt, letting in warm bath water that was cooler than her own heated juices. Her fingers grew in her mind as she drove them faster and faster, becoming enormous in size, and fully as wide as she imagined his cock.
He would kiss her as he fucked her, and suck her nipples while he drilled her with his hot rod.
Her breathing deepened as the end of it came closer. His balls were fat and heavy, banging between her legs as it became impossible for him to delay the surge of his cum...impossible for him to torture her emotions any longer.
Her fingers plunged home, twisting and sloshing mercilessly.
"Fuck me!" she hissed, the words echoing from the empty bathroom's walls. "Fuck me, Mister! Be a man! Dump that fucking dick of yours in my pussy... oooohhhhh-"
She could feel the cunt-stretching pulse move through her pussy, driving her over the edge. Her cunt rippled, and creamy sensations filled. But it was her own juices, not a man's, that came rushing from her hole and floating to the surface of the water to soil it before mixing with the soapsuds.
She cried out, squeezing her nipples and torturing her pussy as she tried to extend the sensations that tore through her.
"Don't stop, Mister! Mister! Fuck me! Fuck me!"
Her orgasm left her wrung out, and she sank into the cooling water. Her breathing eased, and a deep flush covered her as the wanton reality returned.
Oh, how she loved doing that. And how she hated it-the necessity of doing it. God, it was so disgusting-so unlady-like!
But what else could she do?
He would never fuck her.
Ted's mind rapidly sifted through a mental album filled with images of a dozen sexy women... all naked...all eager...all posed seductively...but as his arousal passed the point of no return, and he knew he would have to come to finish it, his mind focused on only one woman...the one he'd never had...never seen naked...never even spoken to.
His fist pumped faster, the image torturing his cock and balls. If this was the only way he could have her, it was better than nothing at all.
Suddenly, Ted's body arched and he gasped. Shot after shot of cum spewed from his dick and spattered the shower wall.
"God!" he groaned. "I've got to have that woman!"
As his excitement sputtered to a standstill, the shower spray cleaned the walls of his wasted passion. But after the excitement died, one thing still rang clear in his mind. It was a resolve that had been written into his brain by need, and etched there by lust: I've got to have that woman.
Ted's lips curved into a smile as he considered the challenge. It seemed like an impossible objective. He had never even met the woman. He knew nothing of her personality, or her values. Or whether she was married. Or had a lover.
But it was a goal. And goals could be achieved with planning.