Helen Ryan the young beautiful wife of Dr. Herbert Ryan is shopping in her favorite grocery store, when a sordid episode from her past slams into her. You see, as college juniors seven years previous, she and three friends took their spring break in Las Vegas, working the two weeks as high priced call girls. Her working name had been April Showers and now, someone behind her, someone she dared not look at, is calling her April.
In a panic, she rushes into and hides in the ladies room. When she thinks the coast is clear, she rushes through the checkout stand looking wide eyed at everyone, wondering if the person who called her April is still around. Is he watching her?
Breathing a sigh of relief, Helen heads to her posh Paradise Valley home in her BMW and alleged safety, only to find out nothing is safe for April Showers, any more. As the man who accosted her in the store aggressively confronts her, she realizes, for better or worse, her life will never be the same again.
My ringing cell phone drew me away from my succulent reverie. I retrieved the phone from my Prada leather handbag and flipped open the cover.
"Railroad Park on Scottsdale Road."
My breath escaped me. It was him. "What makes you think I'll come?"
"Because you're a whore. Wear your red polka dot sundress and nothing else. I'm going to fuck you."
"Hello." He hung up. In the back of my mind, I realized he'd gone through my closet, but I was too turned on to think about. The second he said he was going to fuck me, my pussy constricted, and juices started seeping from its walls. He didn't give a time. He's waiting. I rushed into my bedroom and shed everything in a frenzy. Naked, I pulled the requested red dress off the rod with care and slipped it on as if it was something to be revered. I wore only the dress as instructed and a pair of white Manolo sandals.
It took me ten minutes to get there. After parking, I strode into the park. Since it happened to be a weekday morning there weren't many visitors. Scanning the area, I spotted three mothers in the playground with toddlers, an elderly couple strolling, a young man on a bench with a computer and a man and woman jogger. My body felt electrified at the anticipation Randy's huge prick inside me, but I didn't see him. Then my phone rang. I fumbled the phone getting it out but caught it. "Hello?"
"I'm on the other side of the locomotive."
He hung up before I could say a word. I raced to the other side of the engine and he stood there all in black his back to me. I rushed to him and as I rounded him, I kissed him. The languorous, but passionate kiss was to die for. His silky tongue slipped through the crease between his lips and plundered my mouth. His hands were over me, kneading my breasts, squeezing my ass and feeling my sensitive areas through the dress. Then as his hand slipped under the dress, I was barely able to catch my breath. I tensed as Randy's clever fingers split my nether-lips apart, probing the edges of my needy vagina. The hot Arizona weather was miniscule compared to the heat this man engendered in me. Flashes of heat and erotic lust raced to my erogenous zones and I sensed a trickle of cream meandering down my leg.
As I noticed his burgeoning cock through the thin dress, digging into my belly, he pulled away. He took my hand from around his neck and guided it down to the neck of his cock. I looked down. His cock, sticking out of his pants was rigid and pulsating. He gently pushed down on my shoulders. "I want you to suck me off."
I protested, "We're in the open. There's a path right there." I nodded to my left. "Someone might see us."
"Two lovers getting carried away. No one will think much of it. Besides, I have a feeling you would enjoy being watched as much as I do."
He is right. Why does he seem to know me better than I do? I lowered to my knees. I noticed a jogger come into view just as Randy's silky textured cock ent
|Product dimensions:||5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 0.33(d)|
About the Author
Dee & his lovely wife currently reside in Cave Creek Arizona, where he writes a novella every two to three months and a novel every six months.