32 comments/ 83893 views/ 6 favorites It Started in the Bushes By: StangStar06 It Started in the Bushes Whew, I'd done it again; score one for the "hot" old woman I thought. OK so I hadn't run a marathon, or a 10K. Alright all I'd really done was to push a double stroller with 2, energetic 2 year olds, who really could have and should have walked the 50 yards from my car to the rubberized playing surface themselves. That was my workout for this Saturday morning. Besides, I thought as I took the kids out of the stroller and sent them on their way with equal swats on their 2 year old butts; my workout was conducted last night in their father/step-grandfather's bed. My workout plan was perfect for me and it kept me smiling too. I took a seat next to a twenty something blond girl and started watching the antics of my two angels. "Are those your grand kids?" asked Blondie- blond looking at me. "One is my grandson," I began, "and the other is my son." "They look like twins, almost, except, one is a little darker," she said. "The darker one is my son," I told her. That drew a slightly surprised look. "They run around without a care in the world, don't they," she said wistfully. "You seem to be pretty happy yourself though," she said, looking at me. "I am happy," I said cheerfully, as I looked across the park, for the umpteenth time. "Well I'm glad someone is," she said. I picked up a hint of sadness in her voice as she said it. "Aren't you?" I asked, "You're young, you're pretty; you should have the world on a string." "Don't I wish," she said ruefully, I could tell she was looking over at me out of the corner of her eye. She was wondering why I was so God damned happy, they all did. I scanned the tree line again and made up my mind; maybe just this once I'd tell someone. She looked across the park to see what I was looking for. I think she might've seen them before I did, but she didn't know what we were looking for. There was a small group of men running, they would start out at the tree line, and run the 12 mile loop all the way around the lake. The faster ones would finish in a little over an hour; so that was all the time I had to tell her my tale. I didn't think I'd make it because there was so much to tell, but I'd try. I patted the bench beside me, and she scooted over closer. "Do you want to know why I'm so happy?" I whispered. She nodded her head conspiratorially, and inched closer. "Well, it started a few years ago, right here in this park," I began. "It started with a blow job in those bushes over there, but I guess I should tell you what led to it," I said. Her little blue eyes had suddenly ballooned up to the size of saucers, when I mentioned a blow job in the bushes. Boy if she only knew. "OK, one Saturday, here in the park, I had decided to come out walking with a couple of my friends," I said beginning my narrative. Actually, they dragged me out of my house, and forced me to come. Let's face it I was depressed. My marriage was circling the drain, my business was failing, and I was just plain miserable. I couldn't see why those bitches wanted me to slowly waddle around the park with them, but if it would get them to leave me alone, I'd try it. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't giant sized or anything like that; but I just wasn't taking care of myself so I had put on a few pounds. I also wasn't nearly as tiny as you are, and I probably haven't been since I was fourteen. Nope I've always been a little thick as they say it now. But a lot of men like that, because it brings certain attributes with it. So there I was, waddling my almost fat ass around the park with the biddies, when we saw them. We all stopped and looked as they ran by, about four or 5 guys in running clothes all sweaty and muscular. The biddies started acting like construction workers, whistling and clapping. A couple of the guys started hamming it up and giving the biddies the thumbs up sign. One of them a short hairy one, actually stopped and mooned us, and then ran and caught up with his group. You know how dirty women can be when there's no one else around so our conversation as we walked that morning revolved around those runners, and what we'd do with them in different scenarios. These little dramas ranged from having a singular tryst in a nearby motel, to a full blown gang bang behind the park office. Emily even claimed she'd rather just have an affair with any one of them who was willing, and she was serious. She claimed she'd plan it so her husband never found out, and she'd be able to have her cake and eat it too. These women had been walking together for a few months before I started with them, and I had to admit their pace was a little bit rough for me. That combined with my depression, and all of the stimulating talk this morning had my mind in the clouds instead of my eyes on the ground. I rolled my ankle on a loose rock and started to go down hard. Before I made contact with the unyielding concrete surface, I felt 2 hands grabbing my shoulders trying to keep me from falling. My body braced for the impact that was inevitable, but I landed on something relatively softer. "Good save Darryl!" I heard, and a bunch of whooping and clapping, as the rest of his friends ran by us. They kept going and were soon out of sight. As I got my wits about me, I noticed that I was lying on one of the runners. It was the quiet one in the front of the pack, who had simply ran faster when the girls started their revelry. I had no choice but to look at him, as I fumbled around trying to get off of him. He was Black or African-American, whatever they call it these days. He was also substantially more embarrassed than I was. "Thank you so much," I practically yelled, but then stopped as our eyes met. For what seemed like minutes but was probably only seconds, we stared at each other, and we made a connection of some sort. Or at least I did. I wasn't sure whether he felt it or not. "Anyone would've done it," he said, after he got his wits back. "Is he crazy?" asked Emily, "I saw it and still don't believe it." "You started to fall, and we were right next to you," she continued. "There wasn't time for any of us to grab you," she said. "But he flew in and tried to catch you, but let's face it, you're not a waif," she said making a wry grin. "So he scooted under you, so you didn't hit the ground," she said. "Any one could've done it," she snorted sarcastically," yeah right." I started to get to my feet and everything was going great until I put my foot down. It hurt like hell when I tried to walk on it. Darryl sat me back down, and took my shoe and sock off, then looked at my ankle. He had me move it forwards and back and just a little bit side to side. It actually didn't hurt very much when he gently probed the area with his fingers. OK it actually felt so damned good that I wouldn't have remembered any pain. Imagine how pathetic my life had to be, for some stranger's rubbing my ankle to be the most erotic thing I'd had happen to me in nearly a year. "Well it's not broken," he started, "But you can't put any weight on it." "We really need to get some ice on this, and wrap it up, as soon as possible," he said seriously. "How are we going to do that?" asked Betty. As I think about it, I remembered that Betty was a nurse. Why hadn't she looked at my ankle? And why was she pissed? "Well, we have a little bit less than a mile to the parking lot," said Darryl. "If you'd like, I could carry you," he said. Emily's eyes got bigger, Betty's eyes got smaller and Pam brought up the truth. "How are you going to do that?" she asked, "She's kind of bigger than you are." "Well you're taller but..," He stood me up, making sure that I only put pressure on the good foot. Then he got in front of me and bent down slightly. I got the idea and climbed onto his back, and he stood up straight. It was like when I was a kid and my Dad gave me piggy back rides. Then he just started walking. All the way there, he apologized for everything. "I'm sorry, I'm kind of sweaty," he said. "I'm really sorry, this is probably embarrassing for you," he said. "I'm sorry this is taking so long," he said. I'm sorry, my hands are probably making your leg uncomfortable," he said. I really was uncomfortable, but not the way he thought. Having a muscular man moving between my spread legs was something I hadn't had in a while, and even though we weren't exactly in the correct position, it was affecting me. This alone was strange, because I hadn't been "affected" in over 2 years. My husband was no longer interested in "affecting" me. I was practically humping the poor man's back as he walked. A lot of what he thought was sweat wasn't, and it was coming from me, not him. I was producing so much juice that I was sure he could probably smell my pussy. At one point I just let my head rest on his shoulder and relaxed and rolled with it. Almost too soon, we got to my car, Emily opened the door and he put me down on the seat. He had an unused ace bandage and some ice packs in a first aid kit in his car. He ran and came back with them. He put the ice packs around my ankle and then gently wrapped the whole thing up in the ace bandage. "OK that should hold you until you get to the emergency room," he said then he turned and left. Betty was fuming, and Emily and Pam were jumping up and down with excitement. Betty roughly grabbed my ankle, and started trying to get the bandage off. "Ow, what are you doing?" I asked her. "Trying to get this off of you, before you get cooties, or aids, or something," she said. "What?" I said looking at her like she was crazy. "You know N...," she hesitated "those people carry diseases," she snapped. "It's a brand new, un opened bandage," said Emily "so even if your retarded 1940's closed minded theory was true, it wouldn't matter." "Betty, aren't you a nurse?" asked Pam "Why didn't you wrap her ankle up?" Pam asked. "Well, because he was all over her," said Betty nervously, "and she obviously liked it." "Did you see her, laying her head on his shoulder when he was walking?" she said. "And she never told him no when he offered to carry her either," she said viciously. "Seems to me, there must've been someone else who could have done it," said Betty. "Yeah, how about one of the white guys he was running with," said Pam. "That would've been better wouldn't it Betty?" asked Pam "Except for the fact that none of them even slowed down, let alone stopped to help," said Emily. "What about you Betty?" asked Pam "I mean you are a nurse." "But you just stood there, while he checked her ankle out," added Emily. "Where you going to carry her for almost a mile on your back?" asked Pam. "I've got some terrible news for you Betty," said Emily. "My family, we're Armenians, so maybe you shouldn't have to be around me anymore," Emily said. "Well, it's worse than that," said Pam pretending not to cry. "I've been hiding it all these years," she said sniffling. "Jenkins, is my husband's last name, my maiden name is Rodriguez," Pam continued. "I guess with my light skin, you never knew I was a "wet back," she said breaking down in mock tears. "Tell her Alana," said Emily. "Tell her what, I'm white," I said. Betty looked at me suspiciously. "Well OK," I said my voice showing my exasperation "You know me as Alana Sargent, but actually it's Alana Kathryn Morgenstern-Sargent," "Morgenstern," said Betty, "you're Jewish?" "Afraid so," I said, "But don't tell anyone." Betty looked at all of us and just walked away. "I can't believe the balls on that bitch," said Emily. "We'll go to the emergency room with you," said Pam. "Maybe we'd better take your car though," she said. "Why?" asked Emily "Alana, I love you," said Pam," but I don't see me trying to carry your fat ass across the parking lot to my car let alone an entire mile." All the way to the hospital Pam and Emily talked about Darryl and his friends. "I want that big blonde one in the head-band," whined Emily "No stupid, you should take the short dark haired, hairy one with the glasses," snapped Pam. "Why would I want that dork?" asked Emily," he looks just like my husband." "Exactly," said Pam, "That way if he gets you pregnant, no one will know the difference." "Ooh smart," replied Emily, "Alana you have to introduce me to him." "How the hell am I supposed to do that?" I asked. "Easy," said Pam, "When you come back to the park to start walking again, you have to thank Darryl." "That's our in," she said. "When you go up to him, we'll all be there and we'll meet them," she continued. "I'll get a chance to see them up close, while they're not moving," she said. "That'll give me tons of fantasy material to imagine while my husband is throwing me one of his 5 minute fucks ,while he imagines I'm his super-model du jour, and Emily can start being a whore," she said. "Get it right," said Emily seriously, "Whores have to be paid, I'll be doing it for free, that would make me a slut." We went to the emergency room, and sure enough, Darryl had been right about my ankle. It wasn't broken and after the x-rays they even re-wrapped it in the same bandage. "The ice was smart, it kept the swelling down, so you'll be better in no time," said the ER doctor. Over the next 2 weeks, I thought a lot about that day, mostly at night before I went to bed. During the day I was too busy with other things. I owned a small flower shop, and my business was failing, if things didn't turn around soon, I'd be out of business. My husband had left me 6 months before, just up and ran off with his twenty year old secretary. The note he left said basically that our marriage was slowly killing him. It had sucked the life out of him, and was turning him into someone who wasn't fun, and he didn't want to be that guy. He also told me I could keep everything, which mostly amounted to my shop, which he didn't own any part of, our house, which was mortgaged to the hilt and underwater, my 10 year old Honda, and all of our bills. He said Stephanie was helping him to rediscover himself, after all of the shit I'd put him through over the past 24 years. I was 42 years old, and had married him when I was 18. Stephanie, was 2 years younger than our daughter. I hadn't told Donna yet that her father had left me, but she'd find out soon enough when she came home. I guess I'd hoped for a while, that he'd come to his senses. But I came to mine first, and filed for divorce, on the grounds of abandonment. For the past 2 years, our life together had been going nowhere any way. It had been nearly that long since we'd had sex, and it wasn't that good then. I couldn't remember when we'd stopped, or why, just that we had. We lived together more like room- mates than lovers, and now my room-mate had moved on. "So what are you going to say?" asked Emily, "Are you going to stop at just talking?" "I wouldn't," said Pam, knowing she would. Of all of us Pam's marriage was the most solid. Sure it had its ups and downs, but it was a good relationship. "I don't have any idea," I said, "It's really no big deal." I was lying through my teeth, for the whole time I was away, I had thought of this day a lot. I was actually planning something that was a big step for me. I was going to ask him out for dinner, as my way of thanking him for his help. Not many people would have stopped to try and help, and carrying me for a mile on his back was just ridiculous. As I thought back on it, he could have run back to his car, and came to pick me up but that probably would have taken longer. Taking longer meant me getting ice on my sprain later, and giving it more time to swell. I was sure he had thought about that, and decided on the quickest way to get me to help. So I was very grateful, and although I'd never have admitted it, very horny. The thing that made it the scariest though, was the fact that even when I was younger and dating, I had never asked a man, or a boy out. They always, had to ask me. I had also never gone out with a person of color, I didn't really care about things like that, but it had just never happened. The thing that kept going across my mind though, was what if he's married, and his wife wants to kick my ass for asking him out. If I was married to him, and someone had, that is exactly what I'd do. Then what if he just sad "nah, not gonna do it." I imagined him turning into the Saturday Night Live- Dana Carvey impression of George Bush, Saying "Not gonna do it." Why should he accept anyway? He and his friends, even the dorky one, were hot younger guys. They were in great shape, and very confident. They probably had women lined up just asking them to take them home and fuck their brains out. So why would he want to have dinner with some 42 year old, soon to be divorced, flower store owner, who wasn't in great shape, had an overly large ass, sagging breasts and also had emotional problems and self esteem issues. Pam handed me a condom, I looked at it, and then her as if she'd lost her mind. "Take him behind the office, that's where all the teenagers go," she said. "And remember, you're doing it for all of us," said Emily. So, we walked over to where the guys were getting ready to run. It was like being in the stands near the starting gate at a horse race. No scratch that, it was like being in the woods, near a herd of deer. We got closer and closer. Soon we were close enough to hear them talking and laughing. Then as soon as we were almost on them, with no apparent signal or reason they just started running, and then they were gone. The parking lot, just seconds ago, had been full of testosterone and laughter, now it was empty. It was like an empty beer can, once filled with golden goodness, now it had no purpose. Well, the parking lot did have a purpose actually; it's where we parked our cars. I thought about that then, our cars, the girls' and mine matched us; they were older, dependable transportation. The guys' cars on the other hand were newer, faster, and impractical as hell. I saw a new Camaro, in candy apple red, a black Dodge Challenger, with ridiculous chrome wheels, and the bright Yellow Mustang GT that I knew belonged to Darryl. "We" were what didn't have a purpose. We just looked at each other, 3 forty-something housewives, wearing enough makeup for a starring role on Broadway, standing in an empty parking lot. We were so disappointed that we almost forgot that we'd come here to walk. I had on a spandex-like top that was strong enough to hold in my oversized boobs, it was one of those "lift and separate" things. I had matching shorts, that almost showed the circles of my ass cheeks. I was also wearing one of those giant rubber bands around my waist, that are supposed to burn fat around your abs. In my case burn fat around my flab. The whole effect made me look like a cross between an old tired Jane Fonda, and a dominatrix. As we started walking, and sweating, our eye make-up ran and gave us that raccoon look. We looked very sexy indeed, I thought sarcastically. "Guys sure can fuck up a good thing," said Emily in a dejected voice. After walking the first mile of the 3 mile loop my ankle started to hurt a little. It started out as just a bit of discomfort, and steadily grew until I was having trouble walking, so I told the girls I'd slow down and meet them back at the parking lot. They replied with sullen nods, and I could tell that we had dropped from the lofty heights of forbidden lust, to the doldrums of shattered dreams. As I sat down to rest for a bit I heard a clip clopping sound and as I looked up my mouth dropped open. It was Darryl running towards me. He saw me sitting there on the curb holding my now throbbing ankle, and slowed down as he approached. It Started in the Bushes Ch. 02 The next day, Blondie-blond was waiting for me on the bench. She had 2 cups of coffee with her, and her eyes lit up as I approached. I took the boys out of their stroller, and let them amble off toward the Daffy Duck teeter totter. "Why don't you guys ride together?" she asked. "Because he still drives that Mustang," I said, not telling her that I loved driving the car too. "And there's no way to fit 2 car seats and a stroller in it," I continued. "Plus this way, I can beat him home, and make us lunch or brunch, or whatever," I said. "So you're still together?" she asked. By way of answering, I held up my hand and my 2 carat diamond, answered her question. "So anyway," I began. After the tryst in the bushes, I almost fucked up my life. My mom had always told me, that I think too much sometimes, and I should just go with my feelings. If you think about it, you'd see that she was right. I mean with the thing in the bushes, I just went with it, and look how that turned out. But for the rest of that day and all of that night, that is, when I wasn't flogging my private parts into submission with any handy suitable object, I was thinking about it. First I dwelled on how great it had been. This naturally led me to wonder if it could ever be that good again. Then I was sure that it could be, because we hadn't actually fucked. Then again, he almost didn't seem like the fucking type. He seemed more the type to make love to me. I had several fantasies, all starring Darryl and I. In some of them a passer by would step into the bushes, and find us fucking like bunnies, all bodies slapping and humping, at near lightning speed, with an intensity that just blazed. In others, we'd be slowly caressing each other, and the intensity came from the depth of the loving and caring we felt for each other. In the back of my mind, I think I wanted someone to catch us. Not one of my fantasies ever happened anywhere other than the bushes. This got me to thinking that this was something that couldn't last for very long. There was no way I'd have my flabby ass out there, when there was snow on the ground. On the other hand, I was very sure, that it was going to happen again. It was as if I had a glimpse into the future, and I knew with all certainty, that no matter what he or I decided, it was going to happen again. Then I started to try and see myself from his perspective, and I realized that I was crazy. Let's face it I thought, I'm a guy, I'm out for a run, and some crazy bitch pulls me into the bushes, and starts sucking my dick. Would I say no? Probably not, but he did initially try to pull away from me. She turns out to be a pretty, but definitely chunky, forty-something housewife type, who is cheating on her husband. OK, I'm a guy, and pussy is pussy, but am I going to go all crazy over her? Probably not, I told myself. I was sure that this was the way he saw it, and realized that I had gone slightly crazy. There's no way that he would be sitting at home, fantasizing about the next time we got together. He must think I'm some kind of slut, I thought. He's probably at home telling all of his friends about me swallowing every drop of his sperm, and even pulling up my top, and practically forcing him to feel on my tits. He and his friends are right now, probably laughing at the way he made me scream, or the fact that I had so many orgasms that I blacked out. Suddenly I realized that there was no fucking way I could ever go back to that park, or ever face him again. My girls and I had gone to that park yesterday, with the intention of getting me fucked, and we had kind of succeeded. Before yesterday we didn't dress like sluts when we walked. We also didn't wear make-up. It would be best for me to just remember yesterday, for what it was, a once in a lifetime beautiful moment, that could never be repeated. So over the next few weeks, I did things differently. My friends and I picked a different park to walk in, and I started to very slowly jog. I also improved my diet, and started to eat healthily. This combination of better diet and more activity, caused me to drop a few pounds and shape up. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was trying to get myself ready for something. I also tried to put Darryl on the back burner, but every night, in my mind, we were back together in the bushes, with a vengeance. About a month later, I got a big order for flowers. The woman told me they'd need to be delivered, and I had to tell her that I didn't do deliveries. She said she'd call back, and I almost cried. This order was for 500 dollars, and it would have really helped me out. I was sure that she wouldn't call back; she'd just find a place that did deliver, and give them the order. But she did call me back less than 20 minutes later, and we started some serious negotiations. She asked me what type of flowers I liked best, and how much roughly it would cost to do a truly exquisite bouquet every week, for ten weeks and then deliver it. I reminded her that I did not deliver. But she said that her boss really wanted me to do the flowers; so I should just add 25 dollars to each bouquet, for the cost of putting the flowers in a cab, and having them delivered that way. It sounded like a good idea to me, and I was really happy. I explained to her that to do that would cost more than the 500 dollars, but that I was sure I could give her a good price. I also explained to her that on some weeks, there would be a big overwhelming bouquet, and other weeks a smaller more understated piece. She liked the idea as well, and we were in business. I eventually settled on roughly twice our original 500 dollars. Even though the price was fair, I'd still make a good profit. Especially since I'd decided to just wait until the end of the day, and drive the flowers over myself. She gave me her boss's credit card number, and I was 1000 dollars richer. I told her if the client was ever unsatisfied with the flowers, to call me back and I'd take care of it immediately. She asked me, if I had ever been unhappy getting flowers, and I told her that except for a couple of times on my anniversary or my birthday, I had never gotten flowers. And she told me that her situation was similar. I asked her who I should sign the cards from and she said anonymous at first, but then changed her mind and said "A secret admirer". She told me she'd fax over the address for the deliveries later, and I hung up. I started putting the first bouquet together. She'd told me to put together something that I'd like to get, since I was the flower expert. I'd tried to explain to her that no two women were exactly the same, but she was sure that if I liked the flowers, the customer would too. I put together a beautiful bouquet of Orchids surrounded by Lilies, for the first delivery. As I looked at the flowers, I got the strangest feeling, but it quickly went away. Later on my fax machine rang and I got the address. I looked at it and realized that a mistake had been made, so I called the customer back but she didn't have time to talk to me and gave me to another person. The new person confirmed the address. "But this is my address," I said. "Well I guess my boss is sending you flowers," the woman snapped. "So who is your boss?" I asked "I'm not at liberty to say," said the woman hanging up. I was immediately on guard. My first thought was that my asshole husband was trying to get back into my life, and cancel our divorce. Well it wasn't going to work, because I was no longer in love with him. And I really didn't want him back. Besides I had worse problems, one big order wasn't going to save my business, and I was trying really hard, to get someone else out of my mind. So that night I drove home with an amazing bouquet of flowers. I put them on my dinning room table and started to make myself a salad, when my doorbell rang. I went to answer the door and didn't see anyone. So I opened the door and saw someone sitting in one of the chairs on my porch. I stepped out onto the porch and sat down. "So, did you like the flowers I sent you?" he asked. "Yes Darryl, I love them," I said. "I'm sorry," he said. "For what," I asked "For whatever I did to drive you off," he said. "It took me a while to find out who you were," he said. "Or how to contact you," he continued. "And then I wondered whether or not you'd be angry with me," he said "So I thought that if I sent the flowers first, it would kind of prepare you," he said. Just sitting here next to him, on my porch, it still seemed as if I was the one in uncertain territory. All of the things I'd done over the past month, trying to get over him just went away. He sat there, with the smile on his face getting bigger and bigger. Then I almost did it again. A month ago I had over-thought the situation, and tried to put myself in his place. I had come up with all of the reasons why things between us couldn't work. I had come up with all of the reasons why I shouldn't ever face him again. I still held our time in the bushes like a shining jewel in my heart. I took it out and looked at it often, but I tried not to dwell on it, because never having it again would be too painful. But now he just shows up, here out of the fucking blue, and there could be only one reason for that. This guy could probably have almost any woman he wanted, but he wanted that skanky bitch that blew him in the bushes. He was out for some cheap free pussy, and he thought I was it. That made me really angry, so I just said what was on my mind. "So am I just supposed to get down on my knees and suck your dick here, or do you want me to find some bushes first," I snapped. "Huh?" he said, with shock all over his face. "Oh that's not it; maybe we're supposed to actually fuck this time?" I said. "OK you went through some time and effort finding me, so let's go upstairs right now, but this is a one time thing," I said. "Don't ever come back," I continued. All I was thinking about was how much it hurt me, and how I had no intention of crying in front of him. I really wasn't the woman he thought I was and I had to let him know that. Realistically, I'd probably have screwed him every time he stopped by, but I didn't want him to think he could just show up and fuck me, just like that. Then as he started walking away from me, my whole body just got cold, and I realized that I had done something really stupid. I grabbed his arm but he pulled it away, and I saw that he was actually crying. Not girly-girl sobbing but there were tears in his eyes that he was trying to hold back. "I'm s," he started "Darryl, don't say you're sorry," I said. "I'm the one who probably should be," I said. "It's OK," he said, "I had no right to come here." "I just couldn't stop thinking about you," he continued. "And really, all I wanted was for us to go out," he said. "You don't have to worry about me stalking you," he continued. "I'll leave you alone," he said. Then I just stood there with my mouth open, while he walked away, got into his car and left. I couldn't think of any reason, or any way to justify the nasty things I'd said to him. For weeks now I had tried to forget about what happened in the bushes, and the way it made me feel. I'd considered what I'd thought to be every logical possibility, except the one that I wanted most. And now in a moment of anger I had just fucked the whole thing up. I had wanted him so bad, that I became afraid of the possibility of making a fool out of myself, and never considered the fact that he might actually like me too. Then I remembered that one of the things he did to trigger what I did had been him telling me that he thought I was pretty. He had fumbled around with it, but it finally came out. That was probably why he'd had to pay other people to send me the frigging flowers. That shyness was going to be tough to get used to. The next thing that was really scary to consider, was that I was so busy trying to put myself into his head, that I didn't really consider his actions. Why would a guy who had almost turned down a blow job, because he was concerned for me from his sweat, show up simply for sex? Or if he considered me to be just some whore, why would he go to all the trouble to find me, and then spend a retarded amount of money sending me flowers? Nope all of the evidence pointed to the fact that I, not he had fucked up badly. I sank down into the chair that he had just vacated. It was still warm from the heat of his body. I wanted to just wrap it all around me to make myself feel better but I knew nothing would. I just sat there in the chair crying until it got dark. It just didn't make any fucking sense. Why, would someone like that, go to all of that trouble just for me. After thinking about it for a while, I wiped the tears out of my eyes and decided that if he went to all of that trouble, he probably couldn't just turn off whatever feelings he had for me, that quickly. God knows, that I had been trying to suppress the feelings I had for him, but it just hadn't worked. This time, I'd be the one stalking him, and he couldn't hide. Early the next morning the girls and I hit the park. The guys did show up, but we couldn't find them. We knew that they were there, by their cars. A blue GTO, The red Camaro, The Black Challenger, the Multi colored Charger, and that damned Screaming Yellow Mustang with the black racing stripes. We finally noticed, that they were warming up in the picnic area instead of the parking lot. When we started walking towards them, before we even got close, they bolted. There was no way we could catch them unless we drove our car on the walking/running/biking trail. While I was frustrated, I noticed another one of those differences between men and women. The three of us, car pooled in one small fuel efficient car. That way we could all talk to each other, before and after we walked. Darryl and his friends, each drove their own powerful gas guzzling muscle car. They pretty much got together for a specific purpose, had fun while they did it, and then moved on. "You guys go ahead," I told the girls, "I really don't feel like walking today." "You have to keep trying," said Emily. "He kept trying to find you," said Pam, "so you keep trying too." "Yeah and when he did find her, she kicked his teeth in," said Emily. I looked at their cars, and had an idea. "Pam, give me the keys," I said. She threw me the keys, without even thinking about it, and kept walking. To most women, cars are only machines, so Pam just threw me her keys. That meant that she didn't have to hold on to them while she walked, and she didn't have to worry about me either. But these guys saw their cars, as an extension of themselves. They went to a lot of trouble, to customize and make their cars unique, so I knew that my plan would work. The guys typically parked at the back of the parking lot, and backed into their spots. With the trees behind them they couldn't back up any further. But at the same time, they could make quick getaways just by driving out of their spots, unless something blocked them in. So I got into Pam's car and just backed right in front of that Yellow Mustang, until he couldn't get out. The guys lapped the park even faster than I thought they would, so I didn't have long to wait. Back then they just did laps around the wooded area of the park which is only a 3 mile loop. First Chris, the dorky little one came up to me. Since he was the slowest of them, I knew that they were all back, and just waiting for me to move, so Darryl could get out. "Hey lady, could you move your car?" he asked. "Nope, I like it here," I said. He got into his GTO and left the park. "You know, you're really a mean bitch," he said as he drove by. "And a stupid one," I replied. Then 2 more of the guys showed up, "Hey lady, move your God damned car," said one of them flashing me a badge. "Officer, if you and your wife were having an argument, and you really wanted to get back with her, would you let anything stop you from at least trying to explain your side to her?" I asked quietly, with a really sad look on my face. He melted. "Probably not," he said. "And that's all I want," I said, "Just the chance to say I'm sorry, and give him my side of it." He and his friend got into their cars, and drove away shaking their heads. "Please don't make me do this," I heard. I looked up, and saw the big, almost giant, blonde guy with the headband. Up close he was even bigger. "What are you going to do, beat me up?" I asked. He stuck his arm through the window, reached across me and grabbed the car keys. If he got the keys, he could just pull me out of the car and drive it out of the way, so Darryl could get out. Or he could reach over me again, shift into neutral and push it forward until Darryl could get out. I grabbed his giant arm, so he couldn't get the keys out of the car. With the keys out of the ignition, I couldn't even roll up the windows. He was winning, so I bit him. He yelled and pulled harder, so I screamed "rape," at the top of my lungs, hoping other people in the park would look, and he'd back off. "Anders, just stop," said Darryl. He stepped out from the tree he'd been hiding behind, and looked at us. "It's not worth it," he said. "I'll just wait until her friends come back, and they leave," he said. "If it's longer than an hour, or however long it takes me to watch a movie on my phone, I'll just call the police," he said. "Or, you could just talk to me for 15 minutes, and be on your way," I said. "I didn't think we had anything to talk about," he said, "You pretty much said it all." Anders towered above me glaring. "You know, that's why I don't do the relationship thing," he said rubbing his arm where I'd bitten him. "Too much fucking drama," he said, he got into his Dodge Charger, and peeled out of the parking lot. Finally, now that all of the drama was over, I had my shot, the question was, what I was going to do with it. I had spent so much time figuring out how to corner him, that I didn't take any time to think about what I'd say. Thankfully, I got a reprieve, as Pam and Emily chugged up. "So did you guys work this out?" asked Pam "No," I said angrily. "Keys," said Pam holding out her hand. "I'll call you later," said Emily smiling. And they drove off, leaving me stranded. Darryl got into his car, and started the engine. From the growl coming from under the hood I could tell that his car was probably faster than the others. He rolled down his window, as he started to leave and looked around for me. I was standing in front of his car. I knew that he wouldn't run me over, because he just wasn't that kind of person. "You owe me 15 minutes," I reminded him "And we both know that it's going to be longer than that," I said. "Why do we know that?" he asked, he was still angry at me. "Because that was Pam's plan," I said. "That's why she left me here, she knew you wouldn't just drive off and leave me," I said. "So I'll also have as long as it takes for you to take me home," I told him. "Oh joy, for you," he said, "trapped in a car with a guy you hate." "I don't hate you," I said, "and I think you know that." He opened the door for me, and we got into his car. The interior was much smaller than my Honda. It was like being a hand inside of a glove. You didn't drive this car, you wore it. As we pulled off, the motor's growl was visceral and addicting. Everyone we passed, heard or saw the car. I wondered why a man as shy as he was, drove a car like this. Some things just didn't make sense. A lot like my outburst yesterday. "You can give the flowers to whomever you want, until they run out," he said. It Started in the Bushes Ch. 02 "You don't even have to tell me who it is," he continued, I could see the way his mind worked. Oh boy, that's gotten me into a lot of trouble so far, I thought. But this time I was sure I was right. He was breaking off every possible connection with me. He'd been caught at the park, so by tomorrow I wouldn't be able to catch him there again either. My back was to the wall, and I had to come out swinging or lose him for good, so I attacked. "Why should I tell you anything, you fucking liar," I snapped. His already giant brown eyes, got even bigger as they registered his surprise at my words. I could tell I had him confused and where I wanted him, maybe not physically where I wanted him, but for now, it was good. "That's what I said, you don't have to tell me," he said quietly measuring his words. I think he was unsure of what he'd done to trigger my outburst, so he was being careful. I had to admit, I felt kind of funny doing it, but I needed to keep him off balance. "But if you don't mind me asking, how or when did I lie to you?" he asked. "Last night, you said you just wanted to take me out," I said. "I haven't seen us go out yet," I snapped. "Oh," he said. "From the way you went off on me, I kind of took that as a no," he said. "Well it was meant as a yes," I said. "So are we going out, or are you the liar I said you were?" I asked. "I actually have to get to work soon," he said. "You have all day, or all week," I said. "How about tonight," I continued. "OK," he said without a lot of either confidence or excitement. This couldn't have gone any better if I'd written the script myself. I think a lot of my success was due to Darryl's personality. He was almost too shy for words. If he had been one of those stereotypical macho black guys from TV, it wouldn't have worked. For that matter most white guys would have thrown my ass out of their cars immediately, I thought. That shyness was definitely going to come in handy. "Pick me up at 8, I think you know where," I smirked. He pulled up in front of my house, and unlocked only his door. He ran, not walked around the car, and opened my door for me. He walked me up to my front door and waited for me to get the door open. Was he expecting a kiss I wondered, this wasn't the actual date, but if he was game, so was I. I turned to see his expression before I started anything, and noticed that he was already, back inside his frigging car. As I stood on my porch, listening to the burbling rumble of the car's powerful exhaust note I decided, that if we did get past this, I was going to drive that car. As soon as I got into the house I called Emily, and three-way called Pam. "I'm closing the shop today and doing the shopping and spa thing," I told them "Oh Shit, my head," screamed Pam, "Oh God," she continued. Emily and I did everything we could to avoid laughing. We had to make sure that anyone on the other end of the line couldn't hear us. "I'll be there in 20," said Pam. Emily and I had seen this before, Pam was pretending to have a migraine headache to get out of work and join us. Emily, as a stay at home house wife, could simply walk out of the house, and go with us. "So how was it," asked Emily, "did you guys have make up sex?" Pam sniffed the air, "Nope," she said. "How can you tell?" asked Emily. "She doesn't smell like soap, so she didn't bathe or shower," said Pam "And she also doesn't smell like sex, so they didn't do that," continued Pam. "Last time, they did oral, and she just smelled like pussy," said Pam. "Even the first time she met him, all he did was carried her, and she smelled like pussy," she explained. "I think, she just starts dripping whenever he touches her," said Emily. We started out at the mall, I had to pull out all of the stops. Since I didn't know exactly where he was taking me, I had to stop and call him. "How are you going to call him?" asked Emily "I have a number to use if my client, who turned out to be me, didn't like the flowers," I said. "What the hell are you talking about?" asked Pam I explained to them the situation with the flowers, and they were both about to cry. "It's so beautiful," said Emily. "He went through all of that to find you," she said. "Don't forget he thinks she's pretty," said Pam "That is what started her pussy fountain flowing." "If you do get him back," laughed Emily "Make sure you get him some glasses." "Ha ha, fucking Ha," I smirked "Hi, I have a problem for your boss," I spoke into the phone. "She's putting him on the phone," I said to Emily and Pam, covering the mouth piece. "What did I do wrong now?" asked Darryl, "Or did you change your mind?" "Well if you do show up, I'd kind of like to know where we're going, so I can decide whether to wear the jeans with or without the holes," I said. "Uhm, do you have any dresses?" he asked. "I think I might have one or 2," I said, "Just a dress, or a nice dress." "Putting you in it, would make any dress look good," he said then he threw in, "sorry," and he hung up. "Oh my fucking God, he really likes you," said Pam excitedly. "Why did he apologize for saying that?" asked Emily. "If my dumb assed husband ever said anything like that to me, I'd fuck his brains out for a week," she added. "So now you know," said Pam, "He's taking you to a nice place." "You were right, you're going to need the spa treatment," she said. Five hours later I'd been pulled and prodded and massaged and clipped and waxed, until I couldn't stand any more. I had found the perfect little black dress, that highlighted everything I have, while overtly showing nothing. Underneath it, dark brown thong panties with green trim, and a matching bra that did nothing to support my boobs, only framed them. Emily had asked, why my underwear didn't match my dress. I told her that by the time he saw my underwear the dress would already be off and the underwear themselves would only be on for a few seconds. Besides, the brown and green matched my hair and eyes. All of the walking and jogging and dieting had actually paid off, I had lost some weight and I really looked good. "If he thought you were pretty before, wait until he sees you without that gut," said Pam. "But your ass is still kind of big," said Emily, ever the voice of sunshine. "I don't think he cares what she looks like," said Pam quietly. "I think if you had on jeans when he showed up, he would have just taken you somewhere else," she said. "I have a great feeling about this," she said. "I have a feeling too," said Emily, "I think he doesn't care because he knows, that she knows, that she fucked up." "So he knows that he's getting some pussy tonight," added Emily, "you probably bought that dress for nothing." Pam laughed and said "That isn't the way I see it, but we do know that every time they get together something happens, one way or another." "Don't forget to call us, no matter how late it is," said Pam. "Or no matter how early," smirked Emily Darryl looked great; I had never seen him in clothes before. He had on a pair of raw silk dress pants, and a bright yellow sweater. He looked dressy without being stuffy. I was jealous, because men could wear comfortable clothes, and still come off looking great. My shoes hurt my feet and made me feel like a fucking ballerina, because I was so high up on my toes. I just knew that at any second, my ass was going to split the dress or my tits would fall out. And Darryl, he just threw on some black silk pants and a bright yellow sweater, and he looked fucking amazing. Then suddenly I got the joke, and I was even more pissed. He had dressed, not to impress me, but to match his fucking car. He smelled great as well. When he got out of the car he opened my door for me again. Then he stopped back at the Mustang's tiny trunk and retrieved a jacket that matched his pants. He now had on a suit. The jacket was cut in a longer style, almost like a frock coat in Black raw silk. His suit easily cost twice what my dress did. So maybe he did care about impressing me a little bit. Then I noticed where we were, he'd brought me to Vandyke Point, a very exclusive French Restaurant on the east side. How the hell did he get us in here, on such short notice? He tipped the valet, though he had parked the car himself. He got a valet ticket but kept his keys. It's going to be hard for me to get to drive that damned car, I thought. We were seated in the center of the room but along the wall, it was perfect. We'd be seen by everyone who came in but by being along the wall, we could have the privacy we might need, to talk. The waiter took our drink order. I got the white wine vintage of the day, and an appetizer, while we tried to decide what to eat. "Before we talk," I began, "I don't understand this." "You're really angry with me, and I'm really sorry for what I said yesterday," I told him. "And I know that this will probably be the only time we go out, so why'd you bring me to a place this expensive, and why aren't you eating anything," "First I had to bring you to a place that's worthy of you," he said, "And, this is supposedly the best restaurant in town." "I'm going to eat something," he said," but I don't like the food here." "Then why did we come," I asked. "It only counts as us having a good time, if we both do," I said. "I'd like to remember our one and only date as being fun for both of us," I continued. "We don't have to worry about that," he said. "We'll always remember the bushes," I looked at him as he said it, and he was as serious as I'd ever seen him, I could tell that he meant it, and that it meant as much to him as it did to me. "Well, if we were going to eat somewhere for a real date, and not just a kiss off party, where would you rather be?" I asked him. "As a matter of fact, don't tell me, just take me there," I said. "I'm sure that after tonight you'll probably never want to see me again, but for tonight, I belong to you, we can do anything you want, any way you want it," I said, hoping that he would get the double meaning of my words. He signaled the waiter, and we were "gone in sixty seconds." In 3 minutes we were on the freeway headed for the northern suburbs. He took off his jacket and was comfortable. We went to Texas Roadhouse. It was a nice steak restaurant, with a western flavor and decor. If we were a little over dressed, no one said anything. The steaks were great, but I regretted eating so much when I was done. After we ate, we skipped desert and he asked me "talking or dancing first?" I picked the talk, to get it out of the way, because if I could somehow get him to get by yesterday, dancing could lead to, who knows what. But if we went dancing and I got to hold him close to me, and the talk went bad, things would be even worse. We went to a pocket lake about a mile from the restaurant, and threw bread crumbs at some ducks. "Darryl I'm really sorry," I began, "I wish I could take yesterday back." "But I guess I got the wrong impression," I said. "I can see now that you kind of like me, I just can't figure out why," I said. "Why would you want to be with an older flabby woman?" I asked. "You could probably have one of those little health club bimbettes, in about 2 seconds" I added "So when you tracked me down, I thought that you thought, that I was just some easy pussy and you'd hit it again, for fun," I told him. "I guess I thought that maybe you'd want to do it a couple of times and then go back to your perfect little life," I said. "Then you could hang up your "I fucked the fat girl," T-shirt in your trophy case, and move on and I'd be even more depressed," I said. "So I just thought that since you wanted to hurt me, I'd just let you know that I knew what you wanted," I said. "Darryl, I'm not a prude, but I'm not a whore either," I said. "I'm not the kind of woman to just let you fuck me whenever you want, without it meaning something," I said seriously. I looked down at my feet in my new shoes, and then trying to hold back the tears said "OK, maybe I would let you, but I just wanted you to know, that I'm not usually like that." "Well, you got almost everything wrong," he said "First, I'm older than you are," he started. "You're 42, I'm 48," he said. I had trouble believing him, so he showed me his driver's license. "I guess the running and being in good shape helps," he said. "I don't have a perfect little life as you put it," he said. "I'm a widower, 8 years alone now; it took me a while to get over it," he said and then added, "Cancer." "But I guess, I'm finally ready to move past it," he continued. "And I know this is going to sound crazy, because you look at everything from your own view point, and then try to make everyone fit your opinions of them," he said. "In order for you to be that upset at me," he said. "You had to have felt something for me, didn't you?" he asked. I nodded my head. "I think it started for you, after the bushes, didn't it?" he asked. "Yes," I said, "that was really incredible." "Well I'm sorry but you missed the best parts of it" he said. "What are you talking about?" I snapped, "I can remember every single second." "Now, you don't know what you're talking about," I snapped. "Yes I do," he said calmly, "because for you it was just a quick and intense tryst with a stranger, but it was different for me." "Still don't get it," I said "How was it different?" "Because Alana, I don't like you, I never got the chance to do like," he started. "From the first second I looked into those green eyes after you fell, I was sure that I loved you and wanted to spend the rest of my life with you," he said seriously. "So when I said anyone would have done it, about catching you when you fell; I guess I meant anyone who felt about someone the way I feel about you would have done it," he said. "So once again for you the bushes was a quick, "not quite fuck," with some guy you barely knew, for me it was a wonderful, first time with the person I love, or would like to love," he said. "And I know that neither one of us believes in love at first sight," he said "Because I don't; but here we are." My new panties were of course ruined. And I had to hold onto the guard rail around the lake, to keep my balance. I really wanted to touch him right then. Hell if I thought that we could get away with it, I'd have blown him again right there. My head was fuzzy, and I hadn't had anything to drink, except for that shitty expensive wine at the restaurant. I didn't think I could take dancing now. I could not handle having him rubbing himself near me, or even worse rubbing himself on me while we danced. He should be rubbing himself in me, I thought. It would be torture. And we had just too many fucking clothes on. "Take me home now," I choked out. "I thought we were going dancing," he said, "And don't we have to at least try, to work this out?" "There's nothing to fucking work out," I told him, "There are only details to take care of." "I thought we did that yesterday," he said leaving me puzzled. Then it hit me, "Not the flowers you idiot," I said. "There is no fucking way, you will ever get away from me," I told him. "If I have to stalk you, and try to fight any woman that gets near you," I said. "Now take me home, right, fucking, now!" I grabbed his hand, because it was painful for me not to touch him, as we got in that damned yellow car. "Damn it," I said looking at Blondie-blond. "I thought we'd get further than this today," I said. "Tomorrow?" she asked "Sorry," I said "Tomorrow is Saturday, and Darryl and I are going to a wine tasting thing, we'll be gone the whole day." "Well, I don't usually bring my daughter to the park on Sunday, but the fresh air is good for her, and she loves being here," she said. "OK" I said, "Sunday we'll have more time too, because Sunday is Darryl's long run day, he'll probably run twenty miles or more instead of 12." To be continued? It Started in the Bushes "Hi," I said with a big smile, until I realized that he was staring at my face. He was actively, almost rudely, studying every line of my features, and shyly smiling. Then I remembered how our eye makeup had run, and also remembered that I probably looked like a fucking Raccoon. My smile faded, when I thought about how I must look. "Doing too much on your first day back huh?" he asked, in a shy voice. He sat down and started to touch my ankle, and then he stopped and looked at me. I tried to look away, because I knew what he was looking at. "My makeup looks awful doesn't it?" I asked. "Well, don't blame it, for trying to take the easy way out, it was doomed to fail," he said. I was shocked; I had obviously misjudged this bastard, because he wasn't nice at all. "It did have an impossible job to do," he said. I was really pissed now, just think I'd spent 2 weeks fantasizing about this guy fucking me (I could admit it now because I was angry) and he just sits here and insults me, for no reason. Sure I knew that I wasn't some 19 year old Brazilian super model, whose ass hadn't fallen, but I wasn't ugly by a long shot. Lots of guys told me that if I was a bit smaller, I'd be perfect. But he just kept going with it. "I guess makeup's job is to make you look better," he said, it was as if he just couldn't shut up. "But I don't think anything could do that," he said nervously. I was just about to call him something that I was sure I'd regret, but I was on the verge of tears and I wasn't going to let him make me cry. But 10 seconds later I realized what he was trying to say, and I was so fucking glad I hadn't said anything. "Because you're already so pretty," he said, "there's just no way for makeup to help." "It just gets in the way," he finished, and kept looking down. "Uhm may I?" he said pointing at my ankle. I think he just needed to do something, to cover up his nervousness. I was speechless, so I just nodded my head like one of those stupid dashboard dogs that people have in their cars. He took both of my ankles in his lap; first he lightly ran his fingers over the good ankle. Then he did the same to the sore one. "All of the swelling seems to be gone," he said. "The muscles around the sore one, seem to be a lot tighter," he continued. "You haven't been stretching them out have you?" he asked. He started massaging my ankle before I could even answer. I don't know what I would have said anyway, my mind was locked on one thing; did he actually say that I was so pretty that makeup couldn't make me look better? He really said that. He took my shoe off and continued massaging, and actually went down my foot and massaged the soles of my feet and my toes. I was hoping he couldn't see me squirming, and hoping even more, that he couldn't tell what was going through my mind and my body right then. I was sure my nipples had torn through the spandex of my top, and I was probably sitting in a puddle. If I kept dripping like this, my vaginal secretions would likely drown us both. I looked over and saw soft dark brown eyes, and realized that I was guilty of a great wrong. Women all over the world lament the fact that men generally paint us as objects, and we, had done the same thing to Darryl and his friends. We saw them as bodies, or as fantasy objects without taking the time to even wonder about their personalities or anything else. As I watched him, all he seemed intent on right now, was relieving the pain in my ankle. He was probably, I noticed, a little bit older than I'd suspected, and was probably only 5 or 6 years younger than I was, which really wasn't so bad was it? He also seemed to be a genuinely nice guy. A little too shy perhaps, but that was kind of cute. He'd also gotten tongue tied and nervous while trying to complement me, which told me that he hadn't had a lot of practice talking to women, which was also a good thing. His touch was both strong, and incredibly gentle, at the same time, and he had no idea what it was doing to me. "How's that," he said beginning to stand up. Something in my mind snapped, and I heard myself ask, "Could you help me up?" "Of course," he said smiling, "But remember to take it easy for a while." "At least, until you get the strength in the joint back," he said. I looked around as he reached out to take my hand, and saw no one in the immediate vicinity. There were walkers and a few joggers out, but no one near enough to us to pose a danger, though to be honest, I don't think I'd have cared anyway. I knew what I had to do. AS I got to my feet, I held onto his hand, and started walking towards the bushes near the edge of the trees, that surrounded the woods on the interior of the park. They were tall hedges that you couldn't see through. Once out of sight I dropped down to my knees in front of him, and pulled his running shorts down in one quick motion. Believe it or not he tried to back away from me. So I just grabbed him by his legs, and pulled him back. As my hand grabbed his manhood, his body stiffened and it did as well. It wasn't some huge freakish porn star dick, but it was bigger than the only other one I'd ever seen in real life. I wasn't looking at his face, so I don't know what his reaction was, but he was no longer trying to get away. As I began to lower my mouth on the object of my desire, he tried to push my head back. "I'm sweaty," he said, was he really trying to excuse himself out of a blowjob? "Shut up," I replied and licked the shaft from his balls to the tip. It was a really strange taste, beneath the obvious taste of salt for his sweat, there were other flavors. Kind of like a cinnamon mixed with musk, but tangy taste. I lightly dragged my teeth across it teasing him. From the groan he tried to stifle, I could tell he like it. Then I started on the head. The hands on my head were no longer pushing me away, now they just rested on the side of my face. I started moving my head up and down on it, in that motion that I'd seen when my husband and I watched porno movies. Every stroke I went further and further, until the tip of his dick started brushing the back of my throat. I had never done this before, my asshole of a husband had tried in vain for years to get me to do this, but our sex life was pretty much stunted. He refused to lick my vagina, he said it was nasty and a sin, but he wanted me to suck his slimy little dick. The funny thing was, that I was probably enjoying this as much as Darryl was. As I watched the muscles in his powerful legs straining and flexing, I realized that for all of his strength, he was my toy right now. If I'd thought that doing this was demeaning or nasty, I suddenly realized that it wasn't demeaning because I was in control. It was my choice, I could finish him off, and give him unimaginable pleasure; or I could simply stop, and leave him frustrated and unfulfilled. I was in total control. The 2nd part, was that it really didn't feel nasty. It actually felt great, to do something for a person who without even knowing my name, seemed to always be willing to put what he was doing aside, to help me. My daughter, rarely if ever came home from college, and usually when she did call, it was only to ask for money. She hadn't even realized yet, that her father had left us, or how devastated I was. Speaking of the husband, he hadn't given me any consideration at all, before leaving with his teenaged booty queen. The only other person in my life was my mother, and she was very old and in failing health. The simple act of blowing a stranger in the bushes, had allowed me to put my life in perspective, far more easily than anything else I'd done over the past several months. "Uhm I'm gonna c...," choked out Darryl tapping my shoulder to warn me. I just held on tighter, as he tried to push my head away. Suddenly I felt a small amount of warm salty fluid coating the back of my throat, and Darryl collapsed. It really didn't taste bad at all, in fact, I wanted more. We ended up on the ground with my head still between those powerful legs. As we lay there on the ground, all seemed right with the world to me. All of my problems just went away. "What was that for?" I heard him ask. "To pay you back for helping me," I said, and I really meant it. "Well, you paid me too much," he said, "Here's your change." He rolled over and pulled down my shorts, as I had done his. About a hundred things went through my mind at the speed of light. Was he going to fuck me? Where was that damned condom? Was I going to let him? Hell yes! I thought, but he had other plans. He lowered his head between my legs, and suddenly I was worried about my leaking. "Uhm I'm," I began. "Shut up," he replied. Then my world changed forever. He started out just blowing softly along my outer labia, and it felt so good my hips were already inching up towards him. I was getting hotter than I'd ever imagined possible. Then he started the same gentle breezes against my swollen puffy inner lips and the heat became an inferno. When the breeze barely grazed the tip of my clit, I had my first small orgasm and he hadn't even physically touched me yet. I hadn't come down from that one yet when I went into shock. He had used his tongue and swiped my pussy from my asshole to my clit in one strong hard motion. He actually ended the lick with a slurping sound as if he was lapping up my juices. I thought that my head and body had separated, and I couldn't control anything. "Oh shit!" I heard myself screaming. If anyone had been passing by at that point I don't know what they would have thought was going on, and I just stopped thinking. I wildly clawed my top up, freeing my breasts and started rubbing them, one of his hands replaced mine, and it felt like my nipples were growing longer trying to contact him. He separated my inner lips with his fingers gently, and started licking and blowing along the inside of my slit, and I just kept coming, over and over, then he very gently licked and kept licking the tip of my clit, and I kept building and building until I just blacked out. I couldn't believe this was happening, my husband had never done this for me in 24 years of marriage, but a stranger whom I'd only met twice, had just licked my pussy until I lost consciousness. When I looked up he had pulled my shorts back up, and was rubbing my temples. He was doing it so gently and staring down at me, in a way my husband not only hadn't lately, but never had. When I looked at him I noticed that the entire bottom of his face was wet, and since he smelled like my pussy, I knew what it was. "Somebody besides me, really needs a shower," I said. This was the wildest craziest, most romantic thing I'd ever had happen to me. Then reality reared its ugly head as I heard a group of bikers ride by, less than twenty feet from where we were. "Oh shit, the girls are waiting for me," I said. "I've got to go," I told him, as I got up and started to walk the last mile back to the parking lot. He sat there still in a daze as I left. Before I'd gotten too far, I saw Emily's car, and waved at it. She pulled over and opened the door. I climbed in the back seat, behind her and Pam. "Oh my God!" shrieked Pam, "You really did it." "Did what?" I asked innocently. "You fucked him, didn't you?" she asked excitedly, "how was it?" "I don't know what you're talking about," I said quietly. Emily stopped the car, and turned around and looked at me. Then she turned back around, and started driving again. "You lying bitch," she laughed, "tell us about it." "Tell you about what?" I asked. "Tell us about, why we've circled the park twice, looking for you," began Pam. "And then we find you, in almost the same place that we left you," she continued. "No one walks that slow, not even you," she laughed. "Then when we pick you up, you smell like a walking pussy, and you have sperm on your chin," said Pam. "So tell us about it," said Emily. I filled them in on everything that happened, and they were both dumbfounded, and full of questions. I really didn't want to talk at that point, because my pussy was still tingling. What I really wanted to do was to go back to the bushes for round 2, but they were my friends, and the voice of reason. "So, you were going to ask him out to dinner?" asked Emily. "Did you use the condom?" asked Pam. "Are you going to do it again?" asked Emily. I just smiled, as in my mind I went over what had just happened. I knew it was a onetime thing, but it had really been beautiful. "I can't believe you just pulled some guy into the bushes, and sucked his dick," said Emily "Or that you liked it," said Pam. "Oh we have got to tell Betty about this," laughed Emily. "She'll probably have a heart attack," she said. I think that up until then, my friends had thought of me, as their chubby, dowdy friend, and thought that like them, I was incapable, of doing anything wild or crazy. I knew they'd never expect me to cheat on my husband, even though he had abandoned me. And deep down I think I thought the same thing, but for some reason that I couldn't explain then, even to myself, what had happened felt natural, and not out of place in my life. It felt almost like a signal, as much as growing breasts or a girl's first period, or graduating from high-school. They all signal important changes in one's life; my interlude in the bushes marked the start of a new phase in my life. At this point I stopped talking, and noticed that Blondie-blond was so silent listening to me that she had nearly stopped breathing. I looked at my watch. "Ooh, time for me to go," I told her. "Wait," she asked. "You were still married when this happened?" she asked. I nodded my head affirmatively, smiling. "So technically, you were cheating?" she asked again. "What did that have to do with you being so happy," she continued. "What happened next?" she asked. As if on cue 4 or 5 guys ran by us, a few of them yelled "Hi Alana," and the one in front a slightly older, very attractive black guy, stopped and kissed me, before running to catch up with the pack. "Was that....?" She began. "But you didn't......," she said. "Are you coming back here?" she asked "I really need to know what happened," she said. "Ryan, Bryan," I screamed. As the two boys toddled their way towards the stroller, I turned to her. "Same time tomorrow," I said. "Hell yes!" she told me. To be continued????