Accidental Commando


The forecast was for a beautiful spring day and I dressed according to the forecast. I was wearing a short flirty skirt and a loose blouse that displayed some nice cleavage when I left the top two buttons undone. I know the cleavage was nice because I could see men’s eyes swivelling to check it out as I bounced along on my way to work. (I was also carrying a jacket. I didn’t completely trust the weather forecast.)

It was one of those days when everything was going splendidly. We had plenty of customers and they were all friendly. (A rare occurrence.) I made quite a few sales and could look forward to a nice commission. We were so busy I had to work right through my normal lunch break and I didn’t get to take my break until two.

The weather had held up so I grabbed a sandwich and a drink and strolled over to a nearby park to have lunch in the sun. The park was deserted apart from me, probably because I was having lunch so late. I plunked myself down on a handy bench, undid a third button to emphasize my cleavage (just during the lunch break), and relaxed, enjoying the sun and my lunch.

Trouble was, even though it was nice in the park, it was also boring. Apart from one man strolling through the park towards me the place was deserted. I decided that I’d had enough fresh air and sunshine and would wander over to the shops.

I got up off the bench just as the man was passing. OK, so maybe I was paying more attention to making sure I leaned forward slightly as I got up to maximize the guy’s view of my cleavage, rather than just getting up off the bench. The man was eyeing me off and looked nice so why shouldn’t I tease a little. The reason was the ripping sound when I stood up.

As well as the ripping sound I felt a tug at my clothes. Something had snagged and torn. I just froze there, three-quarters standing, my hand groping around behind me to see what the damage was. I couldn’t feel anything wrong with my skirt so I finished standing.

The man had also heard the tearing sound and he’d stopped and was looking at me. He grinned at me and made a twirling motion with his finger, obviously offering to check for any damage (and hoping to perve on my panties if the skirt was torn). Figuring, what the hell, I needed to know, I hesitantly turned around, looking over my shoulder at him.

I was sure something was wrong. I’d swear I could feel material flapping against my legs, but perhaps it was only nerves.

“Don’t worry,” the man told me. “Your skirt is intact. Not a tear on it that I could see.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, and then he continued.

“Unless, of course, your skirt has a red lacy lining, in which case it’s been torn free and is dangling.”

Fucking hell! I’d ripped the bejesus out of my panties. I spun back to face the man and one hand went behind me to check under my skirt and all I found was bare bottom. Somehow or other my panties had caught on a splinter or a nail and just been ripped in half and were basically dangling.

I was blushing and wondering what on earth I could do when the man spoke again.

“Ah, I’m Alan, by the way, and stop panicking. You don’t really have a major problem.”

“Easy for you to say,” I pointed out. “You’re not the one with the problem.”

“True, but I do have a solution. Several, in fact. If you slide the remains of your panties off nobody will notice that they’re gone. The shops are close by. You can trot over and buy a new pair straightaway. Alternatively,” he said, nodding towards my bag, “I assume you have a phone. You could ring a friend from work and have her bring you a pair. Finally, if you almanbahis adres ask me, I’ll go and buy a pair for you while you sit here and wait. To start with, I’ll turn my back while you get rid of the remains.”

With that he turned around and looked elsewhere and I hurriedly slipped my panties off. Geez, whatever had hooked them had just ripped a huge V shape, tearing the crotch right out. Blasted council should take better care of the park benches.

“OK?” asked Alan.

“OK, I guess,” I grumbled. How OK could you be, suddenly finding yourself going commando?

He turned back to face me, smiling. He had a nice smile.

“So, have you decided how you’re going to get a new pair?” he asked, his voice light and teasing, with a bit of a laugh in it.

I couldn’t help but respond with a bit of a laugh.

“I guess I’ll just go and get a pair myself. The sooner I get them the sooner I can put them on. There’s no wind so I won’t have to worry about my skirt getting blown up.”

“Well, there you go. Problem solved. However, if you don’t mind, before you go I’d like to imitate the wind.”

What the hell did he mean by that? I found out fast enough. He just reached down and started lifting my skirt up. I promptly slapped my hands down against my skirt, holding it in place, blushing. He laughed.

“Fast responses,” he said. “Now why don’t you lift your hands away for a moment and pretend you had a slow response.”

“I’m not lifting my skirt so you can look at me,” I hissed.

“You’re not lifting your skirt. I am. What’s it going to hurt? Haven’t you ever wanted to do this sort of thing?”

I shook my head. I’d never even dreamed of flashing anyone.

“Well, it’s a day for firsts. Just lift your hands away for a moment.”

The way he was looking at me he was absolutely daring me not to be a prude and a coward. And after all, what would it hurt? I lifted my head defiantly and then deliberately crossed my arms. He winked at me and then flicked my dress up, exposing me for a moment.

I was blushing and confused.

“What was that in aid of?” I asked. You didn’t even look at me.”

And he hadn’t. He’d just kept staring straight at my face while he flicked my skirt up and let it settle back down.

“Just teasing you,” he said softly. “I wouldn’t really expect you to hold your skirt up where other people might see you. Step behind the bench for a moment.”

He took my arm and ushered me around until I was standing behind the bench. I was probably looking puzzled, because he explained.

“The bench will protect you from any casual observers,” he said, “so they won’t see me do this.”

This time he lifted my skirt up and held it up. He was still looking me directly in the eye then he winked and lowered his gaze. I could feel myself blushing furiously and I hastily knocked his hands away from my skirt, but not before he got a good eyeful.

“How much longer do you have for lunch?” he asked.

“About half an hour,” I told him. “Why?”

“Just checking that we had plenty of time.”

“Time for what?” I asked, suspicious.

“Time for me to escort you over behind the bushes and make love to you, of course. You’re effectively half-naked and it seems a pity to waste the opportunity.”

He had to be bloody kidding me.

“Do you really think I’m going to let you take me over behind the bushes and screw me?”

“Well, that’s putting it a little crudely, but yes, that’s what I’d like you to do.”

I couldn’t believe this. The guy was a nut. Ah! That could be a problem. Was he a dangerous nut?

“And almanbahis adresi what happens if I say no?” I asked, feeling distinctly nervous all of a sudden.

“Then I assume you would trot off and buy yourself some panties,” said Alan.


No threats and he was standing back a bit, hands in his pockets. His attitude didn’t seem threatening. Still, I eased round to the front of the bench so I was more in the open and the bench was between us.

“So are you going to agree or not?”

“Of course I’m not going to agree,” I muttered, still feeling a little nervous. “What on earth makes you think I might?”

“Do you want an honest answer,” he asked.

“Well, yes. I’m curious. You don’t even know me but you seem to expect that I might be willing to go into the bushes with you. That’s just weird.”

“OK. You’re showing more cleavage than you would normally, I think. I’d say you undid an extra button while in the park to flaunt a little. You’re not wearing panties and you know I know it, which has got to be making you acutely conscious of your nakedness.”

“I’m not naked,” I interjected. “My skirt still covers me.”

He just waved his hand airily, dismissing my protest.

“But you feel naked. In addition, you let me lift your skirt. Twice,” he added.

“None of that means anything,” I pointed out.

“Maybe, maybe not, but they are indicators. Can you guess what the last point is?”

He had another point? Damned if I could think of what it might be.

He smiled at my blank look.

“You’re still here arguing the point. If you weren’t going to come into the bushes with me you’d have walked off by now.”

His hand dropped to his zip.

“Would you like me to show you what I’m going to give you?” he asked.

“You wouldn’t dare,” I gasped. “Oh, god, you probably would. Don’t.”

He laughed at my reaction and strolled back around the bench to join me on the path. I couldn’t help it. My eyes flicked down and I could see the bulge in his pants. Dear lord. He actually had an erection.

“Um, look, I’d better be going,” I muttered, waving my hand in the general direction of the shops.

“Plenty of time,” he said softly, reaching for and capturing my hand. “Come along.”

I snatched my hand away from him.

“I haven’t agreed to doing anything,” I pointed out.

He just strolled towards the bushes and I found myself following along behind.

“This is ridiculous,” I pointed out firmly. “You can’t possibly expect me to let you do this.”

He stopped and turned to face me again. First he winked, then he lifted my skirt and touched me. He just reached down and placed his hand on my mound. I felt a jolt of heat run through me. I was shocked. He lifted his hand and traced my cleavage with one finger. I swear I hadn’t known just how much of my breast that extra button exposed. He slipped his hand under my bra and touched my nipple.

He let me go, placed one hand on the small of my back, and ushered me between a couple of bushes. Just like that we were out of sight, hidden from public view. Turning to face me he deliberately slid down his zip.

I expected him to whip out his erection, but he didn’t. He took my hand and slipped it through his zip and I found myself holding his erection. I promptly pulled my hand back out of his trousers. I guess I should have let go of his erection first. There it was, standing proud, with my hand still wrapped around it.

Alan just seemed amused. I was feeling shocked. With myself. I was excited. I was standing there without any panties, holding almanbahis adres a stranger’s cock. What on earth did I think I was doing?

I didn’t have time to philosophize over it. Alan just tapped me behind the knees, somehow, and my legs seemed to just collapse. I just sank down onto my knees, still holding onto Alan. He pried my hand off his cock, and I was strangely reluctant to lose it. He followed that up by pushing me forward so I was on hands and knees and he lifted up my skirt, tucking it into itself at the waist.

He fiddled with the catch of my bra, flicking it open under my blouse, then reached around and undid another button on my blouse. My blouse sagged open and my bra dropped away from my breasts. God, I must have looked wanton. I certainly felt it.

Alan was rubbing my pussy. He needn’t have worried too much about foreplay. I was already hot and wet. He must have felt this because I could feel him rubbing his cock against my slit, dragging it back and forth a little, getting ready to take me.

Take me, is right. I could feel the head of his erection butting lightly against the entrance to my passage. His arms wrapped around me, hands closing over my breasts, then he took me. No gentle entry here. He just drove firmly in, all the way home with one fast lunge, and all I did was gasp and lift my hips to give him better access.

With that start he went to town, driving in hot and hard. His hands were busy mauling my breasts, but they were incidental to the way his cock was ravishing me. It would come charging in, his groin hitting my pussy with a moist slapping sound, only to retreat and come charging in again.

I could feel every inch of him, rubbing against me as he drove in and dragged back out, every movement sending rough sensation rippling through me, fanning the flames.

Don’t think that I was just crouched there letting him do as he wanted. I was doing my fair share, lifting my hips and pushing urgently against him. I wanted this. I wanted it to keep on going and I worked to make it happen. A part of me was standing back, watching my performance in shock. The rest of me was saying, screw you. This is fun. Just once I’m going to do something really wild.

Wild certainly described our performance. We were just a couple of animals, doing what nature demanded, and doing it with style, if I do say so myself. I don’t think either of us really considered the other’s pleasure. Hell, as far as I was concerned, Alan was a male. He’d just keep going until he came. Me, I had to put some effort in to make sure I also got there. I was going to be awfully mad if I didn’t.

Accordingly, I bucked and pushed against him, feeling his flesh dragging against mine, happy to note that he had ample flesh making that contact. (I don’t care what the experts say. Size definitely counts for something and Alan’s size was counting significantly.)

He banged into me, driving deep, and I could feel my own passions building, lifting me towards the heights. When my climax hit it just seem to come blasting out of the blue. I just gasped and went with it, shaking and shuddering, waves of pleasure rolling over me. I was aware that Alan had stopped his mad plunging and was trying to hold himself in me, venting his seed into me.

Afterwards I fished out my little packet of wet-ones from my bag to clean myself up a bit. If ever I needed them, this was the time. Alan was just lying on the grass, looking smug. I jumped to my feet and finished straightening my clothes.

“Have to go,” I said. “I need to get to the shop before I get back to work. Bye.”

“Hey, wait,” he yelled. “Can I have your number?”

“It’s in the book,” I called to him as I hurried off. Too bad he didn’t know my name. I decided that I would not know him if I ever met him again. The whole episode had been insane. Enjoyable, but insane.

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