THE SIZE OF THIGHS

LIES MAINLY IN THE EYES.

After all this time she couldn't even remember

how to turn the fuckin' thing on..

It had just sat glowering at her,

morning after guilty morning

after the kids were gone

and before donahue.

She stepped back onto it,

with renewed resolve..

daring the shiny black bastard to laugh.

The tv was off,

and journey was loud..

the rubber beneath her feet,

finally began to show signs of life,

and she was off on another workout....

swinging her arms and moving her feet supposedly burned off fat..

trimmed the thighs,

tightened the ass cheeks

firmed the belly...

made her tits taste like honeydew...

something like that..

the answer to the question of life

it was her exercise machine.

but none of these things were really what she wanted..

they were just the mythical means to a dream end..

that after hours of torture,

some person,

with or without love in his heart... or her heart

would find her so desperately irrisistable

as to be unable to even ask permission..

would take her,

gently

on a rainy tuesday night,

behind the dumpster at the local supermarket.

That she would send off a scent,

a plea

to be loved, and to be satiated..

not that it wasn't good at home,

because it generally was,

just that it wasn't raining..

there was no hands on her body,

without pleasantries...

no teeth across the crown of her nipples...

without her having to ask..

Her steps quickened as the cords moved in her hands..

the sweats had already become warm on her thighs and she paused

long enough

to kick them over in the corner.

That felt much better..

her legs moved,

and as they did,

her fires were fanned by the air between her thighs..

before long,

the tight top became unbearable,

and she shucked it too...

after two kids,

her breasts weren't half bad..

she could see them,

bouncing happily along with her ass

as her legs worked out..

she was plainly seen in the hallway mirror,

to her right,

and dimly reflected in the sliding glass door

in the bedroom.

With renewed vigor,

her legs hammered out a rhythm,

and her shoulders sang along...

the tops of her inner thighs

twisted gently against her lips

as she stroked back and forth..

back and forth..

her mind wandered back

to the faceless person in the rain,

how he had followed her from the store,

and then stopped her and smiled...

he had called her the most beautiful creature of his life..

he had stroked her hair,

and then gently taken her arm

and led her into the darkened place..

she had followed,

like a hypnotised frog,

unafraid

and yet fearfull...

she sensed no danger from the person beside her,

but rather from herself...

her own guilt... maybe shame...

her fear of finding some irreplacable magic,

and then losing it...

At the same time that she vowed to quit reading all that erotica

she placed her hand to her breast.

It was held tightly by her bra,

and the damp blouse on top of it..

and yet,

it seemed to melt into her fingers..

he had stopped now,

in the shadows..

and he watched as she caressed herself,

and kept stroking her hair..

he took her groceries,

and set them on the ground..

and then pulled her mouth,

a little roughly

to his.

she threw her arms about his neck,

and moved her hardened nipples deeper into his chest.

where his fingers soon found them...

within seconds the buttons on her blouse

flew open, flew apart,

flew away...

he was firmer now,

taking her tits from their hiding

and mouthing them,

swilling her nipples around his tongue

and stretching them tight away from her fullness.

His hands moved across her taut skirt,

he could feel her panty lines,

and she could feel him feeling them.

her ass felt good in his hands...

tight,

like she exercised a lot,

and her heat pressed deep against him

as his fingers moved across her hips

and down over her belly.

she leaned back

against the dumpster

and put her hands back

and stretched out her arms...

she was his.. or anybody's

for the taking.

The tightness in her breasts and the throbbing in her cleft

left her mesmorised,

savage and helpless..

she felt his fingers find the skirt zipper,

and heard it release and slide away,

the skirt followed,

into a puddle on the floor,

and left her,

in a wet blouse,

garters, hose,

and panties..

it was her "what if you get in an accident" outfit,

and now,

watching this stranger drink in her body

and lingerie,

she was REAL glad

that she'd listened to her mother

and worn clean underwear.

As her legs and arms continued to work out..

the vision of the stranger

in the rain

became merged with her picture window...

and she saw the same face watching her..

watching her dampened panties,

as her legs strode smoothly back and forth

on the apparatus,

watching her erect nipples dance

in the rhythm of her workout..

she discovered that she could take one hand

out of the cord

and still maintain her beat on the machine..

her fingers strayed quickly

to the damp crotch

of her thin cotton briefs,

she was white hot down there,

and flooded..

moving the crotch to oneside

her fingertips traced the outline

of her puffed lips,

and smoothly,

insistantly,

moved them apart...

just like he would...

he would have moved forwards,

and pulled her panties out of the way

of his probing fingers...

in the rain,

under the streetlights,

he would have had wet fingers already,

but nothing to match the deluge

from inside of her...

as he stroked the hair around her flood,

she felt herself drifting higher,

and higher..

his course hands rubbed deep and hard into her,

against her clit,

between her lips,

into the cauldron of flames itself...

She tore her underwear from her body,

in real life

and in the alleyway..

fingers were deep in her now,

she didn't know,

couldn't tell,

shouldn't care..

who they belonged to,

maybe they were hers,

maybe not,

but they were in the right places

at the right times

and doing the right things...

She had always loved fingers,

almost more than cocks..

and so,

she rode them,

stretching and arching

and

bucking and fighting..

she felt teeth on her breasts

and tongues between her legs..

hundreds of tiny tongues,

each one responsible for a single pore..

a small piece of tender skin...

she felt eyes on her body,

drinking deep,

and watching her wanton openness..

her hands were upon her,

and her spreading thighs bore an open invitation

to anyone with an urge..

her head was thrown back,

and her smile was wide,

as the first climax rolled out of her belly

and shivered all the way down,

until it finally escaped her,

and soaked her thighs.

In the alleyway,

she focused enough to spot the watcher..

standing to the side,

his hardness in his hand,

as strange fingers opened her to his eyes.

All she had to do was look,

and he moved to her,

gripping her tits

as the other fingers thrust deeper into her..

she bent,

and took his nakedness in her mouth,

filling her throat with manmeat.

she was bent towards him now,

and felt the fingers pause

in her pussy...

they left briefly,

but she knew what it was that took their place.

As he slid deep into her flames,

she took another into her mouth,

setting up the rhythm,

jammin in the rainy dark

at both ends..

At just the right time,

her climax built again..

the man in her mouth was swelling,

gripping her head

and holding her around his hardness,

and she

in turn

was gripping someone else,

deep inside herself,

working her hips as he began to drive into her...

she could hear her pussy as he plunged in and out,

slurping and milking him..

until his seed roared up inside of her..

it made her clench and swallow,

only to be filled at her mouth..

to be gasping for air and heaven and come....

all at once..

and then came the flood,

her flood,

her spasms and twitches

and the fingers clawing at her nipples were like satin..

she just needed more..

feeling

more alive

more here

more goddamn reality...

the machine beneath her was silent now,

still and soaked..

in the hall mirror,

her panties were gone,

her body glistened in it's own juices

and her breath came quickly

trying to becalm her...

and yet the aftershocks continued.

eventually

she felt the limpness pull from her mouth

and from the depths of her pussy

and then they were gone...

her nakedness shone in the rain,

and she wished she could have just picked up her bags

and walked this way

to her car

in the rain.

wet and naked,

with strange man juice

on her thighs and in her throat,

with the scent and taste of lust

reflected a thousand fold

in the gleam of her eyes...

her pink garters and destroyed hose,

framed the mashed bush

between her thighs

and

forsaking the bags on the floor,

in the puddles,

she left her clothing behind her,

turned into the lights and stepped off the machine...

that's enough, she said

until tomorrow...

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