An Enticing Break in the Narrative
Autumn approaches, and the weather becomes unpredictable. One day sunny, the next cold, with sudden storms in between. My dad, being a bit of an idiot sometimes, encountered one of these storms while dressed for summer. Soaked to the skin, he chose to ignore the weather and proceeded as planned. But the rain refused to stop.
Although he had anticipated a warm day, he ended up coming home completely drenched and freezing. Shivering, coughing, and sneezing, he had developed a cold. Hoping his cold would resolve as quickly as it appeared, he decided to treat it with a good night's sleep.
But summer had other plans. Instead of easing up on the cold weather, it shifted to something worse. By the time he awoke in the middle of the night, the cold had transformed into influenza. Now, he was not only sick but also a cranky, irritable mess. The household was on edge, with the three of us - his children - eager to escape the chaos caused by our sick father.
My mother, ever the saint, decided not to let her husband's sickness tear her family apart. She sent my two younger brothers to stay with my aunt. I, on the other hand, had three options. I could opt for staying with Aunt Melody, not ideal but not the worst-case scenario. My parents preferred that I stayed home to care for my father before he worsened, but I was not their favorite caregiver. My dad, being the stubborn man he was, preferred me to stay because my mother hovering around him would only worsen his condition. His sickbed assurances of the cold's passing rang hollow in my ears.
Option three appealed to me most: I'd stay with my friend Suzy for a few days. It was an attractive option that I didn't want to relinquish just because my father had caught a cold. I called Suzy, explained the situation, and asked if I could come over and stay with her. Suspiciously still asleep, Suzy asked me to wait while she asked her father.
"Dad, Megan's father has the flu, and her mother wants her out of the house for a few days," she said.
"Don't blame her," the voice in the background answered. He seemed too comfortable to offer any resistance to my plan, so I happily began to pack a few essential belongings.
Once there, I thanked Suzy's father profusely, and he welcomed me with a smile, the gracious host that he was. Then, Suzy and I escaped to her room, where we regaled ourselves with tales of daily life and gossip until he couldn't hear us anymore.
For the next few days, Suzy and I alternated between entertaining ourselves and babysitting her three younger siblings. At eighteen, I was the elder of the group while Suzy was seventeen, followed by Suzy's siblings who were just shy of their teenage years. Despite the noisiness, our host, Mister Bee, handled it with ease, never raising his voice.
On day five, I received news that my father's illness had improved enough for me to return home. Thankful for the temporary respite, I told Suzy and Mister Bee that I would head home that evening. Suzy, being the clever one, suggested that we all go to the beach that afternoon, a plan that appealed to my desire for a bit of sun before the arrival of winter's coldest days.
We loaded our crew into their microbus - an excellent vehicle for transporting a group as large as ours - and drove to the beach. We parked in the car park area, a free bonus, and strolled down to the sand and sea. Suzy and I removed our outer layers, and absorbed the sun's rays while working on our tans. We took breaks, diving into the water to cool off, but mostly we basked in the warmth.
As the cozy weather began to fade, it was time for me to leave. I announced my intentions to Suzy and Mister Bee, and they showed no objection.
"Okay, Megan, we've enjoyed having you here. Are you going now or tonight?" asked Mister Bee.
"I think I'll come back at night, spend one more day with Suzy," I said, eager to soak in the last bits of fun.
"Sounds good," he replied. Later that day, Suzy and I joined the others on a trip to the beach, hoping to catch a bit of sun. In spite of the monsoon-like conditions, I did manage to get a tan. The plan worked out beautifully.
I didn't rush towards the kiosk; instead, I meandered in its direction, choosing to stroll through the car park instead. Should I walk on the sand, which would slow me down, or on the firm ground of the car park? I preferred the latter option.
As I reached the car park, I began walking along it, around a quarter of the way when the back doors of a vehicle opened completely. Two boys were inside, lounging on the van's back. They appeared harmless, merely lounging and holding drinks.
"Hey, want to join us?" one of them asked me casually, "It's a hot day and we've got some beverages - coke, or beer."
"No thanks," I replied, hesitant.
"Why not? We've got cold drinks here. Coke, or beer," he repeated, showing off his glass.
I stared, perplexed as to why they were offering me these specific drinks.
Mr. Coke held up his drink. "I'm driving, so no beer for me. He's drinking so no driving for him," he said cheekily. "Why go all the way to the kiosk when we can give you a drink right here?"
"Stop it, Cain," said Mr. Beer. "She might think our drinks are doped."
"Of course not!" Cain retorted, sounding offended.
"But she doesn't know us," Mr. Beer pointed out.
"Come on, hop in the backseat," Mr. Coke urged, "You can check your drink to make sure it's unopened and has no holes."
I didn't have the chance to refuse before Mr. Beer planted a hand on Cain's shoulder, prompting him to shut the van's doors.
"Stupid! She's probably thinking we'll drag her into the van and assault her!"
"No way! We wouldn't do that," Cain insisted, sounding affronted.
"But you're not exactly a trustworthy source, mate," Mr. Beer replied. "So are you going to get in or not?"
This was making me think. Was I willing to hop into the van and get fucked? I found myself susceptible to this idea; an indescribable thrill was consuming me. I'd never been particularly promiscuous, but the thoughts of two strangers catching me and violating me was almost alluring.
Somehow, I'd inched closer to the van. The two doors were now directly in front of me, both remaining half-open. If I wanted to leave, I could back up and continue to the kiosk.
Mark downed his drink and set it aside. He held out his hand to me, pulling me closer. I felt my knees bend as he helped me inside and sat me further back. He pulled the doors slightly closed with a chain securing them, though they could be easily opened if I chose to.
"The van's windows are covered in film," he explained. "We can see out, but people outside can't see in."
I found myself on my knees, insufficient room for me to stand. I glanced over my shoulder at the closing doors, then shifted to face them. They appeared to be held partially closed by a small length of chain, one end on each door. I pondered; if I wanted to leave, I could just flick the loop off and open the doors.
As I pondered this, Mark tugged the bottom half of my bikini down, exposing myself. At the same time, he guided me down, causing me to kneel on the floor. "Doors," he instructed Cain. He then pulled me deeper inside, pressing me down to my knees, so that my bottom remained raised.
"Calm down," I exclaimed, startling when Mark touched my genital area. "Stop it!" I scolded, blushing when he laughed.
"I already told you that I was going to molest you," Mark stated matter-of-factly, his fingers stroking and prodding my private areas.
My breath became faster, anticipation growing. I wasn't trying to avoid his touch. Instead, I found myself yearning for his hands, craving a firmer connection. A few minutes later, I had exactly that as Mark pressed strongly against me. A different sensation followed as two of his fingers had gently parted my lips and then inserted themselves, exploring me internally, moving quite deep and pressing a little forcefully.
I was at his mercy as he toyed with me. I wanted to beg him for more, harder, faster, not knowing what specifically, just MORE. That's when Cain, the scoundrel, offered me a clean handkerchief.
"Here, just bite down on this if you feel the need to scream," he said.
I snatched it from him, glaring at him angrily. I had no intentions of screaming, no matter what Mark was doing. After a few more minutes, I was screaming again as Mark fully invaded me, his penis sliding into my wet passage. He drove himself in completely with that first thrust and then resumed screwing me vigorously as if time was running out and he desired to finish it one last time before the world ended.
Now, with things already happening, Mark shifted my bikini top aside, capturing my breasts with his hands. He alternated between kneading and stroking them, focusing on gliding me towards a helpless state beneath him.
Mark continued his efforts, though it probably couldn't have been too long. I probably would've fainted if it had. He gradually upped the pace in an attempt to reach a final goal and that dirty towel muffled my cry as I climaxed quite intensely.
I feebly slumped, my head resting casually on my crossed arms, my bottom still arched up, willing to be lowered down. One of the boys thoughtfully inquired if I was okay, and his gentle efforts calmed me down until...
Cain settled behind me, entering me.
I jerked up, confused and startled. "What, what, what? Cain, you said you wouldn't touch me!"
"Dear lady, that was just to attract you into the van. Now that you're here, overwhelmed by excitement, it'd be a crime not to focus on your needs."
"But, but..."
My protests were completely disregarded. Cain reached around and started exploring my breasts while steadily pushing into me, endeavoring to awaken my joyous spirit. He didn't seem to be in a hurry to achieve this, believing that slowness would eventually prevail. Only slowness could kindle my buried arousal.
I found myself again in that posture, a cloth stuffed in my mouth to silence my screams, while a man remained determined in thoroughly pleasing me. I can't tell if I could've complained about it but it's safe to say I responded enthusiastically, as did he.
I lost track of time again, and I became contemplative. I thought to myself, how could a man continue for so long? I was greatly relieved when Cain reached his climax, thrusting harder than ever before, triggering my own orgasm and causing me to melt into a mass of happiness.
I hastily cleaned myself with the towel, pleading for departure, for my friends might be waiting.
"Here, have some Cokes," Mark said, offering me two. "Just tell them that there was a crowd at the shop and you stopped to chat with a couple of lads."
"Was that the purpose of all of this? Talking?" I gratefully accepted the Cokes and hurried back to where we were lying, telling Suzy, "I'm hot. I'm just going to take a quick dip before I have my Coke. Want to come?"
Suzy waved me off. I rushed towards the water, taking advantage of it to rinse off any leftover residue and wash away unwanted smells. Back in the sun, I guzzled my beverage, appreciating its chilling effect. An exhilarating interlude.
Read also:
- Strange and Wild Chapter 2: The High Priestess
- Anu's Merging: A Harmonized Combination
- My delight: Chapter 1
- In Bangalore, overlooking the omission of Trisha
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