0 comments/ 38348 views/ 14 favorites Lots about Me Ch. 05: Running By: TessMackenzie NOTE: This story contains some darker elements including rougher sex and the pretence of non-consensual sex. * I get home from a run, and open the front door, and go inside the house. I stop in the hallway to take off my shoes and socks, and then go into the kitchen for water. I put down my key, and open the fridge. Someone grabs me from behind. It's a man. I can smell him, and feel him bigger and stronger against me. He pushes me onto the bench, bending me, trying to hold me down. He grabs my wrists, but I'm sweaty, still slippery. He slips, then grabs again, but still can't hold me. He wraps a tea-towel around my wrists to hold me instead. I could have got away then, I suppose, while he does the towel. I could have, but I don't. Maybe I was too surprised to think or something. Now, it's too late. He's holding me properly again, and I can't. He's behind me, half on top of me now too, trapping me. He's pressing down, holding me down, pressing against me, pressing me into the counter. He tugs my shorts down. He holds me while he does. He tugs my shorts down to my knees, which is enough. He puts his cock inside me, and I'm so wet it just goes all the way in before I can think. He's inside me, and he fucks me, and he holds my hair while he does, telling me not to look at him. He fucks me hard, roughly, still holding my wrists. He's strong, and bigger than me. I'm helpless. I fuck him back. I fuck him back, so turned on I can't think. I fuck against him until I come, gasping. Then he does too. He comes, flooding me, but he stays hard inside me. He keeps moving, keeps holding me. He's going to go again. "Water," I gasp, after a moment. I've just been running. I'm thirsty. I can't wait any longer. He lets me up, lets me slide over. I just drink out the tap, because the glasses are across the kitchen. He lets me drink, still moving inside me. Then, when I have, he pulls me off the counter and onto the floor. He makes me kneel. He tugs my running top off. It's lycra, and clingy. I have to help. He pulls it up my arms, up over my head, then leaves it around my elbows so now I'm trapped by that, too. He waves his cock in my face. He holds my hair, and puts it in my mouth, and I let him, I open my mouth, and feel him all slippery-sticky, and taste his saltiness and me. I don't mind the taste of me. I like the taste of me. The only time I'm not completely happy to taste myself is times like this, when I'm all gross and sweaty. He knows that, which is why he's trying making me do it now. He knows because he knows me. Because this is a fantasy. A game. His fantasy, but both of ours. He's my boyfriend and we do this a lot. Why, what did you think? I knew he'd probably do this. I expected him be there. I'd been thinking about it, and anticipating this, and getting horny, the whole time I was running. I know I probably shouldn't get turned on by this, but I do, and I am. And probably he shouldn't like to do this either, but he does. So we do. He likes to be rough, and pretend to force me, and me sweaty also turns him on, so he often grabs me when I get back from a run. He also seems to have some thing about games like this and making me, so we do that too. I like it as well. It's weirdly fun. We tried being more organised, and doing me the helpless captive tied to the bed, but neither of us were really into that. We seemed to prefer me thrown on the floor, and bruised knees, and bitten shoulders, and me being held down and fucked for like two minutes until we both come. This is how my run ends every second day right now. I kneel on the floor, half undressed, and he holds my hair, and holds me against the kitchen cupboards, and pushes his cock in and out of my mouth. He's rough. Rough enough that the back of my head bangs gently on the cupboard. My hair's in a bun to run, though, so the bumping isn't that bad. He holds my hair, and pushes into my mouth, and I'm helpless. My arms are trapped. I can't stop him going slightly deeper than I'd want him to. He fucks my mouth while I kneel there, and it's sexy that he is. Sexier than just a blowjob, anyway. Sexier than me choosing what I do. After a while I want some too, so I struggle for a bit, and push my way back up. He puts me on my front on the counter, so I'm bending over, and he licks my ass for a bit. He seems to like that sweaty too, which I don't get, but he licks it tenderly, lovingly, while I moan. He licks my ass, then wipes cooking oil on his cock, and puts it inside me there. He fucks me, and I shift my feet to let him more easily. I shift my feet, and I tug my hand free of my running top, and reach down, and masturbate myself. I know I'll need to, because he'll be quick. He's always quick in my ass. He's said before he's incredibly turned on by me having actual orgasms from him being inside there, so I guess that's why. I make myself come. I squeeze tight as I do, and that makes him get there. He finishes, and slides out of me, and wipes himself with a paper towel. Then he kisses me. I kiss him back, and say, "Hi, dickhead." "Hey." I pull up my shorts. I try and untangle my top, and my arms, and where everything has gone, then give up and just take it off. I warm down, because I'm getting worried I might start to cramp. I stretch, and he watches me because bare tits. I stretch, and then go have a shower, and afterwards we have dinner and watch TV. I've got bruised knees, and a bruised tummy from the edge of the bench, and a sore jaw, and scrape on my arm. This is every second night, right now, but I wouldn't change it for the world. Running I was feeling frustrated. Why? Who knows? It was just a case of severe frustration giving me the heebie jeebies and making me want to run around looking for a kitten to kick. Not a dog. They might bite and I wanted to attack something defenceless. And I was horny. Not that that is anything new. A natural state of affairs for any man. It was a nice day, so I decided I'd go out and run off all my frustrations and horniness, working up a good sweat. Accordingly I put on my running things and headed down to the local park. I suppose I shouldn't really call it a park. It was a nature reserve, and there were several square miles of it. Parts of it consisted of parkland, but not much. Ninety percent was natural vegetation with walking tracks and a couple of bike tracks. Pedestrians were supposed to keep off the bike tracks and any cyclist on a pedestrian path was liable to suffer injury when they were pushed into the nearest bush. There were a number of jogging tracks. Three or four were in common usage, but there were another half dozen minor tracks that just meandered through the bush. It was all that meandering that made them unpopular with runners and joggers. They like long straight stretches with few bends. A path that seemed to switch direction every dozen yards didn't make for a good run. So here I am trotting down a path, just starting to work up a sweat. And there she was, jogging towards me, a sweet young thing with a tight top that totally failed to control her breasts. She had a terrible case of boob-bounce. I was watching them so hard I damn near jogged into a tree when she passed. I'll just bet that her breasts would continue to bounce for a good five minutes after she stopped running. On I went, my horniness index higher than when I started, thanks to that young woman. Jogging along and I overtake another sweet young thing. Why the hell are they all out jogging this morning? Why aren't they at home, in bed, taking care of their man? Overtaking a pretty little jogger is worse than just passing one going the other way. Going the other way you're distracted for a few seconds by the pretty girl (and the boobs) but then you pass each other and you continue on your way, smiling. Overtaking means that you're trotting up from behind and you'll be behind her for a while. That means, in this particular case, that I was trotting along behind a teenager wearing tight shorts. Very tight and very short. And her bottom wobbled. There was a real lilt to the way her buttocks rolled around inside those shorts. That natural sway of the woman's bottom prevented me passing her. I just automatically slowed down to appreciate the view. Unsurprisingly, this did nothing to help my general state of frustration and horniness. I gave up on the running. The path I was on forked and I headed down the little used path, slowing to a stroll and enjoying nature. All was calm and peaceful, just the calling of the birds breaking the quiet. I was starting to relax while strolling down the path. I suppose I must have walked for a good five minutes, getting deeper and deeper into the reserve. (There was no chance of getting lost. They had little signs every time two tracks crossed, indicating the nearest exit.) Then I heard feet slapping the ground and the next thing I knew a young woman was jogging up from behind. She was about twenty five and quite pretty. She pulled up level with me and was almost jogging on the spot as she started to chatter. "You're not going to keep fit just strolling along like that," she said rather derisively. "You need to run." Why are these fitness fanatics always urging other people to run? I'll run when I want to and casually stroll when I want to. Right now, casual strolling fitted my requirements. "I've been running," I pointed out. "I was trying to run off excess energy but it wasn't working. Now I'm relaxing." "If you're trying to work of excess energy maybe you should try a different type of exercise. Tai Chi, for instance." Yeah, right. I'm going to prance around doing formal Asian dance moves. I knew the type of exercise I wanted and Tai Chi wasn't it. "I suppose you also do Tai Chi as well as running?" "It's very healthy," she said, nodding to indicate that she did do it. "It really helps your fitness." "I'll pass. I must admit that there is another type of exercise I want. How about you drop your shorts and I'll indulge?" She went red and glared at me. "I was only trying to be friendly," she snapped. "There's no need to be rude." She was about to jog off but I reached out and hooked a finger over her shorts, stopping her. She tried to pull away but I managed to flick open the button. I gave a little tug and her shorts slid down over her bottom. So did her panties, with just a little help. "I wasn't being rude," I said. "I was making an offer. I think I really need some exercise." She was protesting and blushing and grabbing at her shorts. I was fending her arms off so she couldn't get at them and also lifting her top. I managed to push that up over her bra and then pushed the bra up so her breasts popped out. She was still wriggling and glaring at me, telling me to cease and desist or she'd scream. I let her go and started undoing my own shorts. She promptly bent down to grab her shorts to pull them up. "Stop it. Don't do that," I said, speaking firmly. She looked at me, startled. "What do you mean, don't do it?" she asked, hands clutching her shorts. "If you pull them up, how am I supposed to get my exercise?" I asked, pushing my own shorts and undies down. "You can see I'm badly in need of it." That was true. My general level of horniness would have guaranteed an erection without her body being on display. Seeing that it was, well. . . "Do you seriously think that I'm going to let you have sex with me?" "Well, yes," I said. I reached out and lightly stroked her from breast to pussy. "Are you crazy? You can't just pull down a woman's pants and tell her you want to have sex with her" "Why not?" I asked. "It seems quite reasonable to me. Now we both know where we stand." I took her arm and tugged her closer, slipping my arms around her to cup her bottom. "But, but people just don't do that sort of thing." "I do," I said with a shrug. "Are you saying that you won't?" "Even if I wanted to, which I don't, might I point out we're in the middle of a nature reserve and people may come past at any moment." "And they might not. Lift your leg." I lightly slapped her thigh. "Why?" "Facilitate entry," I said calmly, lightly tapping her thing again. She seemed to gulp, then lifted her leg. I caught it under the knee and lifted it higher. A slight adjustment and my erection was pressing firmly against her pussy, then it was slipping between her lips and sinking deeper. I gave a sigh of relief and she made a strange sort of sound. "My god, you're really doing it. We're in the middle of the path and you're trying to fuck me. I don't believe this." By this time I was sinking in nice and deep. I hooked her leg around my waist and closed my hands around her bottom again, holding her to me, finally pushing home that last little bit. Seeing she was only standing on one leg her hands came up and clutched hold of my shirt, gripping it tightly. I started to rock, slowly moving in and out of her. It wasn't all one sided. Her leg tightened around my waist and she was moving with me, pushing herself against me as I drove in. I was just quietly enjoying the unexpected exercise, but not so my partner. She was becoming vocal as we got going. "God, I can't believe this is happening," she insisted. "I don't even know you. How can I let you do this? My god! What if someone comes? We'll be arrested." She did carry on. She'd be squeaking and gasping and pumping eagerly against me, then she'd be fretting again, telling me all the reasons we shouldn't be doing this. I just stayed shut and did my humble best to pleasure her and make up for her inner turmoil. She got even more vocal when I suddenly pulled out. "What are you doing?" she wailed. "I'm not ready. You can't finish yet. It's not fair. You started this." "Quiet, woman," I snapped. "Just turn around and put your hands against that tree." She spun around, leaning forward, bracing herself, head turned to see what I was doing. Good thing she was bracing herself because I moved up behind her and drove in fiercely. She gave a small shriek, her bottom bouncing up to meet me, and then I really started putting some effort into it. Bending forward the way she was, her breasts were dangling and, being a true gentleman, I reached around her to provide the support they needed. I held them tightly while I took her, enjoying the feel of them and really enjoying the friction of her hot moist passage as my cock used it, plunging in and out with all the effort I could apply. They say that jogging is a substitute for sex. They're mad. All the jogging did was warm us both up for the main course. I banged on home, tensions rising in both of us. Soon it was just a matter of time as to which of us would finish. I was hoping that she'd finish first, on the principle that if she did I could just bang in harder and finish anyway. If I finished first, she'd be right out of luck, as I wouldn't be waiting around for her to catch up. As it happened, she was lucky, coming rather loudly. I pushed forward that little bit more, encouraging her to really blow her cork and finishing with a bang myself. It was funny. She'd been fretting that someone might come, and now that she was hugging the tree, unaware of what was around her, someone did come trotting up. I'd just pulled loose, my cock standing half-erect and exhausted, when the pretty young thing with the bouncing boobs came jogging around the corner, boobs still doing their merry dance. She came to an abrupt halt to see us. My partner leaning against the tree, everything on display, and me, while on display, at least tidying myself away. She stood there gaping, obviously wondering whether she should keep going or turn and bolt. I strolled over to her, looking as harmless as possible. When within reach I just couldn't resist lifting her top to admire those breasts of hers. Lovely they were. "You really should wear a bra where jogging," I told her. "There are some excellent sports bras you can get, even for someone with your endowments. Do you jog every day?" She nodded dumbly. "Well, maybe with a bit of luck we'll bump into each other tomorrow. Now off you go." I pulled her top back down and gave her a friendly pat on the bottom and she took off like a racing deer, getting the hell away from the predator. I considered my partner, still propped up against the tree. It would be rude to just depart and leave her like that, I decided. I wandered back to her and straightened her clothes. She started to come out of it while I was doing that and hastily finished the job herself. She looked at me once she was tidy, seeming puzzled. Then she shook her head and looked away. "I'm going to finish my run," she said. "You do not need to keep me company." With that she was off and running. Beats me. Why would she think I wanted to keep her company? I was relaxed and ready to go back home. I really had to come to the reserve more often, I decided. It had a decidedly beneficial ambiance about it. Running a Camp I'm developing a hunting and fishing camp out by the lakes. I have the main house, which contains my quarters, office and a couple of single rooms that I can rent if required. I also have ten cabins. Most of the work on putting them up I did myself; I'm quite good with my hands. I'm still running on a shoestring budget, but I'm getting by and actually starting to get ahead. What extra money I do have goes into the camp, building steady improvements. That's partly what caused the problem. Leonie, my fiancée, wanted me to borrow, using the land as security, and make all the modernisation I want in one hit. I tried to explain to her that I'd be leaving myself way open to losing everything, but she just couldn't see it. She'd see a big motel group put up a motel nearby and lay on everything and assumed that I should be able to match it. I explained to her that if there was a downturn, even a minor one, a big group could weather it, whereas I'd be wiped out by the same downturn if I was mortgaged to the hilt. I showed her my business plan and how things were progressing, but she still wanted me to go for broke. Broke is where I would be, because she's got the economic sense of a goose. She sees buying two dresses for forty dollars instead of one for twenty five as saving money. I point out that she's actually spent fifteen dollars more than she'd budgeted for and she just says yes, but I saved ten dollars doing it this way. She is perpetually broke, by the way. Anyway, to cut a long story short we had a blazing argument about finances, with me finally laying down the law and saying this is the way it was going to be. Leonie said something rude and stormed off. I just let her go, giving her a chance to cool down. The trouble was, she didn't come back. At first I wasn't particularly worried. Leonie was a city girl, not too familiar with the woods around us. She was learning the various paths and things but didn't like to go out into the woods by herself. I figured that she was just sulking somewhere around and let her go for a bit longer. But she still didn't turn up. I finally went looking for her. I checked all the more likely spots for her but she wasn't at them. I started checking with guests, asking if they'd seen her around as I had a message for her. No-one had seen her for the past couple of hours. As far as I could tell, she wasn't in the camp at all. A quick check of the only other hunting camps in easy reach showed that she wasn't there, either. I was starting to get seriously worried. If she'd gone wandering into the bush by herself she could get hurt with no assistance around or, and much more likely, get seriously lost. No vehicles were unaccounted for, so wherever she went she'd gone on foot, but checking all the trails close to the camp I could find no sign of her. It was a mugs game to just wander into the woods and hope I'd spot her. I wouldn't even know which direction to start looking. I was making tracks back to the office to call the sheriff and arrange for a search party when I noticed a light flickering from a window in one of the supposedly vacant cabins. I had checked them earlier but they were all locked and there'd been no answer when I'd knocked. I hadn't suspected that Leonie would be silly enough to deliberately hide. I grabbed the master key from the office and headed back to the suspect cabin, and I can tell you right now, I was pissing mad. I let myself into the cabin and there was Leonie, lounging on the couch, watching TV. She had a bag of chips and a bottle of coke next to her. She wasn't going hungry during her isolation it seemed. Leonie looked at me and laughed. "Finally found me, uh?" she said. "I bet I had you plenty worried." "Worried enough that I was about to raise an official search party," I said, my voice totally casual. Apparently not casual enough, because Leonie sat up straight and looked at me, a nervous look flashing across her face. I was moving slowly towards her and she started to sidle along the couch away from me. "Um, I didn't mean to cause any real problems," she told me. "Problems? Like me having to waste the afternoon trying to find you? Like me being about to call the Sheriff and arrange for a full search party, including helicopter and dogs? Like me wondering if a bear had got you and before you ask, yes, we have bears out there." At that point Leonie jumped from the couch and that suited me down to the ground. I promptly sat on it, catching her arm as I did so. A firm pull and she was face down across my lap. "Wh-what are you doing?" stammered Leonie, suddenly totally unsure of herself and the situation. I didn't bother to answer. Seeing I'd flipped her skirt up out the way and pulled down her panties, baring her pretty little bottom, actually saying anything seemed superfluous. "Don't you dare," Leonie squealed as she realised what was coming her way. "I'll never talk to you again if you lay one finger on me. OH! You swine." I hadn't laid one finger on her. She took all five of the ones on my strong right hand, right across her buttock cheek. And to make sure she fully understood my intentions I promptly did the same with the other cheek. I then started to repeat my little speech about problems, pointing out the dire consequences that could have come about. Had she considered what a full search party would have cost? And if they subsequently found out that she'd just been hiding she could have been charged with being a public mischief and expected to pick up the cost of the search. I explained how worried I'd been, not knowing if she'd had an accident. I also put in a few comments about her appalling ignorance regarding matters economic. And all the time I was making these little comments I was steadily spanking her bottom. At first she wriggled and squealed. Then she gave up wriggling and just squealed and protested. Then she switched to crying, squealing and apologising. And through it all I gave her bottom the big bass drum treatment. It's surprising what a nice shade of red a bottom can go when properly stimulated. Leonie's was shining like a stop light by the time I finished and the way she was jumping up and down, crying and trying to fan it without touching it, suggested that it was burning brightly. I gave her a few minutes to get it out of her system, then I spoke to her. "Leonie." She looked at me, eyes still bright with tears, wondering what I wanted now. "I think it's time we kissed and made up. Take off your clothes." "You don't seriously expect me to..." her voice faltered and died away as she looked at my face. "I most definitely expect you to...," I said. "And I intend to hammer you so hard that your pussy is going to feel as beaten as your bottom. Now strip." She did, watching me nervously the whole time. This was the first time she'd ever seen me angry and she did not like it. While she was stripping, so was I. We were both naked about the same time and my readiness for her was blatantly obvious. I stepped towards Leonie and she stood there, waiting for me. Her eyes flickered from my face, to my cock, and back again, and I saw her close her eyes for a moment before looking back at me. I put my hands on her waist and lifted her towards me, holding her against me for a moment and then letting her slide down the length of my body, enjoying the feel of her against me. As soon as Leonie felt the tip of my cock starting to press against her slit she sprang to life. Her arms went around my neck, her legs came up and circled my waist and she just let herself drop onto my cock with a groan. She was hot and wet and I slid into her with just a single thrust. Actually, I decided after, part of her relief at having me slide into her so fast was the position we were in. Her bottom wasn't being pressed against a hard surface or being smacked again, this time by my balls. I didn't mess around. I was letting Leonie know that she had an angry male on her hands and that she'd better work at appeasing him. She did her best and her best was mighty fine. She bounced on my cock like a wild thing, doing her best to anticipate and meet my every need. I sank back down onto the couch, lying on my back, while Leonie serviced me, pulling out all stops. There was nothing half-hearted about our loving, no putting up with the boyfriend because he expects her to. I mauled Leonie's breasts while her bottom bobbed up and down, driving herself down onto my cock, then lifting up to drive down again. It was stretching my abilities to keep up with her, but it was fun doing so. When I finally climaxed I was praying that she would too, because there was no way I'd be able to continue afterwards to help her over the hump. I could tell from her squeal and the way that she clamped onto my poor cock that she hit it, and then things were a little crazy for a while. Oddly enough, our relationship seemed to have been considerably strengthened by that little episode. Leonie seemed pleased that I was willing to make her toe the line if required. She seemed to feel that she could trust me to look out for her now, where previously she had wondered. Women are funny people, that's all I can say.