Actuary vs Redhead

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Redhead has a quarrel with an Actuary.
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Ashson
Ashson
8,507 Followers

I'm an actuary. I find it an interesting and profitable career even though other people seem to have different ideas. About the interesting part – no-one can deny it's profitable. I will have to admit that the subject may seem a bit dry to the uninitiated. The general response to my telling someone my profession is, "An Actuary? One of those guys who make accountants seem interesting."

Apart from the inevitable job-related slurs on my personality, I have a full social life and not all my friends are actuaries. Hardly any, come to think of it. They do tend to be boring people. I also have my fair share of success with the ladies. It helps if you're tall and not un handsome.

It was spring and a pleasant, sunny, Saturday and I went out for a run. After my run I finished up at the local park and was strolling through it while cooling down. While there I met this attractive young lady that I'd seen there before, usually with this red-headed bruiser escorting her.

As the young lady was alone I stopped to say hullo and introduce myself, as we obviously lived in the same neighbourhood. She wasn't averse to having a talk and we just strolled around the park chatting generally.

Now even though we were chatting quite freely there was nothing sexual about our talking. For some reason there wasn't any spark between us. As far as I was concerned she was just a pretty woman who I automatically parked in the friend zone and was pretty sure she'd done the same where I was concerned.

Considering that I had just assumed that we'd both friend-zoned the other you can understand that I was slightly taken aback when she grabbed my arm, snuggled up to me, and started flirting as though it had gone out of style and she was single-handedly going to restore its popularity.

"What the hell are you playing at?" I asked, smiling down at her.

"Possessive boyfriend," she said, smiling up at me, a pleading look in her eyes. "I'm trying to get him to stop being so jealous whenever I talk to anyone."

I laughed.

"Fine by me as long as you realize I have no intention of getting beat up over this," I told her, continuing to stroll along while she clung to my arm.

She giggled, assuring me he wouldn't really get violent. He was just all hot air. She could handle him.

So that was how the situation stood when there was an outraged bellow from behind me.

"What the fuck are you doing with my woman, asshole?" came the roar.

I disengaged her arms from mine and turned to face the challenger. True to my intention of not getting into a fight I gave a soft answer.

"None of your fucking business, asshole," I snarled back at him.

"He won't actually get violent," she had said.

"He's just full of hot air," she had said.

She should have told him that. His face went as red as his hair, then he was coming at me, head down and fists swinging, apparently intending to charge through me as though I was the defensive line at a football match that had to be broken through.

Not wanting to be smeared all over the park I stepped aside and let him charge past. It was entirely accidental that I happened to kick his foot as he passed, flicking one foot behind the other one.

When his rear foot hit his front foot his feet stopped moving forward. Unfortunately, inertia said that the top half of his body had to keep going forward. With his legs not underneath his body gravity said that his top half had to come down. If it hadn't been for a fine sturdy tree the belligerent boyfriend would have done a face-plant into the grass, which would have cooled his ardour slightly.

That fine sturdy tree really cooled his ardour. He ploughed into it, head first, and dropped as though sapped. He didn't get up, either. You know how scalp cuts bleed? This guy really demonstrated it. He'd torn a gash at the top of his scalp that was going to take stitches to fix.

I dropped down next to him to apply pressure to the wound to try to slow the bleeding. I had a jumper with me, in case the weather had cooled down, and I used this to staunch the bleeding. There was no way I was going to be able to wear that jumper again.

While doing the first aid I was yelling at the poor bastard's girlfriend to call for an ambulance. Boyfriend was going to hospital for stitches and an overnight stay for probable concussion.

Silly twit called both the cops and the ambulance and they both rolled up at the same time. I explained to the cops that the man had tripped over his own big feet and that I hadn't touched him, no matter what his girlfriend said. Fortunately, there were several other witnesses, including a couple of people who had filmed the incident. The cops checked a video and it showed apeman charging at me and me moving to the side and letting him go past, so there were no charges, apeman clearly being the aggressor and responsible for his own accident.

The ambulance boys assured the cop that the only damage to the guy seemed to be the wound to his head, where he'd met the tree, and that he was only suffering from a split scalp, a sore head and possible concussion. They carted him off, girlfriend trailing disconsolately behind. The cops did take all our names and addresses of course. That was to have an unexpected consequence.

The next afternoon there was a knock on my door. On answering I found a redhead standing there, female this time. As far as I was concerned she was marvellous. Shoulder length hair that was a real carroty orange colour. That was its real colour, too, I was prepared to bet. Green eyes that were glaring at me and creamy skin, totally freckle free. She was wearing what was probably categorized as a loose top, but she had enough superstructure to make the top tight in an interesting way. She had long legs and I could see most of them as she had on a short skirt.

"Michael Jefferies?" she asked politely, a politeness given the lie by the look on her face.

I humbly conceded that that was my name and how could I help her.

"The police told me your name. You can tell me where you get off, beating up my brother," she promptly yelled. "How dare you beat up a sweet young man like that? I'm going to have you arrested for this."

I opened the screen door.

"Why don't you step inside and we can discuss this like adults," I said, indicating that she should move on in.

She hesitated for a moment and then went storming past me, standing in the middle of the front room, tapping her foot irritably.

"Well?" she demanded, turning around to face me.

"We've already established that I'm Michael," I said, "but who are you?"

"I'm Deanna and you're avoiding the subject. You assaulted my brother in the park yesterday. He's got ten stitches thanks to you. How dare you attack someone like that? I'm having you charged."

"You're on a loser there, sweetheart," I calmly informed her. "The cops visited the scene of the accident and did an investigation."

"Assault isn't an accident," she put in. "They couldn't have investigated very well."

I spread my arms to the side, trying to look helpless.

"What can I say? There were witnesses. They saw your asshole brother attack me and fall over his own big feet. It was patently obvious that he was entirely at fault."

"That's not what Michelle says. Michelle says you were coming on to her and when Brian objected you knocked him down."

"Really? And what does Brian say?"

"He doesn't remember what happened but he assures me that he would never try to assault someone so you must have started it."

"Mmm. Tell me, Deanna, do you ever look at the internet?"

"What's that got to do with things?"

"There's an interesting short video that's turned up on Youtube. Let me show it to you."

The man who had filmed the incident had told me he was putting it up on Youtube. I'd checked that morning and there it was. I crossed over to my PC and, bringing up Youtube, I ran the video. It was short but explicit. It showed me standing still while Brian charged at me, then it showed me sliding to the side while Brian charged past and then went stumbling into the tree. The one thing it didn't show was me kicking Brian's foot as he went past.

Deanna had watched the whole thing in silence. Now she turned on me.

"What'd you do to upset him?" she demanded. "He wouldn't just attack someone like that. You just have done something."

I just shrugged and tried to look innocent.

"I was just taking a walk in the park, cooling down after going for a run. This woman came by and started talking to me and then the idiot attacked me. Poor temper control and poorer sense of balance. You have to pity someone like that."

Oops. It seemed that I'd gone a bit too far. Deanna made an outraged growl and swung at me. She missed as I ducked back.

"Hum. It seems that like brother, like sister. Keep your cool, lady. It wasn't my fault that your brother hurt himself."

She wasn't listening. Incensed, she swung again, and I found myself in a bit of a quandary. I couldn't duck back as the couch was now behind me. If I tried to dodge to either side she might just clock me by accident and I didn't really want her slapping me. It would be painful.

I solved the problem by sitting down. She'd swung so hard that when she missed she'd spun around and was now side on to me, and off balance. I reached up and pushed and she tripped over my legs, finishing sprawled across my knee.

Every so often temptation comes your way. It's a smart man who knows when to yield to it. When Deanna landed across my knee I flicked her skirt up and my free hand came down firmly on her bottom.

"You," I growled, "Need to learn to control your temper. Let me help you."

I emphasised this with another firm spank. Did this gentle reminder encourage her to take control of her temper? Not noticeably. She was swearing quite rudely, abusing me and wriggling around, kicking her legs up and down.

"You really should cool down, sweetheart," I advised her. "I can keep this up longer than you."

She ignored my well-meant advice, continuing to wriggle and swear. After a couple more spanks I decided to up the stakes. If I thought her language was bad when I started spanking her I learnt otherwise when I pulled down her panties. She'd have made a sailor blush with her choice of language.

I lay down a few more hard smacks on her now bare bottom.

"You know," I said conversationally, "if you don't calm down soon your bottom is going to be as red as your hair. I see that it is your natural colour. I thought it might be."

To indicate how I knew that it was her natural colour I reached down and gave a gentle tug at the tuft of hair I could see. It wasn't my fault. If she hadn't been kicking her legs so wildly, splaying them that way, I wouldn't even have seen her pussy, let alone her cute little red tuft. Alright, the way she was bent over I probably would have seen her pussy. The point is, she shouldn't have been kicking up such a fuss.

When I gave her tuft that little tug she gave a gasp and finally fell silent.

"That's better," I said in a nice soothing voice. I stopped the spanking, letting my hand rest lightly on her bottom.

"Now, would you like to hear the full story of what happened yesterday?"

Deanna took a deep breath and said, "Yes, please," and it sounded as though it was choking her to say it.

"OK. It was like this. . ."

I proceeded to tell her the story, how I'd just been idly chatting with Michelle when she'd suddenly been all over me like a rash, apparently to try to teach her boyfriend a lesson about keeping his cool in social situations. Instead of him keeping his cool he'd totally lost it and jumping me, or trying to, as per the video. If Deanna wanted to quiz Michelle she'd probably admit what happened.

You may have noticed that I'd skipped the part about tripping her brother. It seemed to me that she'd be better off not knowing that little detail. Also, while I was relating what happened I was soothing her insulted nerves by gently massaging her bottom, easing the stinging.

It did occur to me while I was gently rubbing her bottom that her nerves would probably appreciate it if I was rubbing against more sensitive nerves and my hand slid around her bottom to find them. Deanna stiffened slightly when my hand rubbed across her mound and for a moment I thought she was going to start displaying her temper again.

I paused both the rubbing and the telling of the story to ask if she wanted to say something.

"No. Go on with your explanation," she muttered.

I did so. I also went on with my rubbing of her mound, easing her frazzled nerves, even though she hadn't given explicit permission. After all, she hadn't said not to. Apart from saying a rude word very softly she didn't react.

When I say that she didn't react, I meant temper-wise. I did notice that her labia seemed to be swelling and pouting as I rubbed, and the odd bead of moisture was certainly helping my hand to slide more easily over her flesh.

I finished the explanation and waited to see if she had anything to say. She just lay there, silent, apparently considering everything.

"Anything else you want to know?" I prompted.

"It still doesn't explain how Brian tripped over. He's usually very athletic."

"He was in a temper and not really watching where he was going. Perhaps his foot caught on a rock or tuft of grass and threw him off stride. These things can happen."

"I suppose," she muttered, clearly unhappy about it but resigned to the fact that that was probably what happened.

"Um, do you mind letting me up?" she added.

"Now there's a little problem in that area," I confessed. "You came in here, insulted me, were very rude to me, and tried to assault me. My nerves are all shot and frazzled and I'm very upset about the whole thing. I find massaging you is calming my nerves."

"Oh, I'm so pleased to be able to help you that way," she said, her sarcasm so thick you could have sliced it with a knife.

"I'm glad you see it like that," I returned, apparently missing the sarcasm. I took the opportunity to slip a finger between a pair of pouting lips.

"I was being sarcastic," she snapped. "Will you stop touching me like that?"

"No. My nerves aren't sufficiently soothed yet. And maybe you should stop wriggling."

She'd started wriggling around as soon as I said no. I didn't really mind that as she was wriggling against a very sensitive part of my body. It apparently registered with her and she gave another gasp and went still. I gave her a friendly slap on the bottom before returning to exploring more interesting places.

"Are you going to rape me?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. I think more from rage than fear.

I didn't say anything and she flared up.

"You are, aren't you? You think you can actually get away with raping me?"

"Don't be like that," I grumbled. "I'll admit I was considering it but it's not really my thing. Unless you want to be raped. Then I'll be happy to oblige."

"No, I don't want to be raped," she growled. "So if you're not going to, why won't you let me up?"

"Because I'm considering ways and means to get you to agree to my ravishing you," I explained. "I think it's only fair you give me a chance."

She was breathing quite audibly at that stage. The only thing keeping her temper under control was the fact that her bottom was still bare and she was still across my knee.

"And what sort of brainwaves have you had?"

"Well, for a start, I thought you might be susceptible to a bit of emotional blackmail if I threatened to have your brother charged with assault."

"Assault? He didn't lay a finger on you. He's the one who got put in hospital." She sounded quite indignant.

"Yes, I know. That was the drawback in that idea. The cops would have just laughed at me. My next idea was to simply ask you to have sex with me. You're a very attractive young woman, you know, and I'm sure that we'd have a great time together."

"Really? Are you going to ask me?"

"No, I think not. You'd be morally bound to say no. After all, we've only just met and you're still angry with me for beating up your brother."

"I thought I'd conceded that you didn't touch him," she growled.

"Logically you've agreed but emotionally you still suspect that it must be my fault. Don't let it worry you. I have a third idea."

"And what's this idea and what's the drawback."

"This idea is a lot simpler. I'm just going to bend you over the end of the couch. Then I'm going to ease your lips apart and slowly insert my cock inside you. I'm going to keep pushing until you can feel my testicles bouncing against your pussy. Then, holding myself inside you like that, I'm going to push up your top and undo your bra. Once your bra is undone I'm going to take hold of your breasts and squeeze them while I start pumping my cock in and out of you with a great deal of enthusiasm.

The drawback is that you might say no once my cock starts entering you, and then I'd have to stop."

"Save yourself the trouble," came the swift retort. "I'll say no now and you needn't worry about starting. I've an even better idea. Let me loose and I'll be gone."

I lifted Deanna to her feet, directing her towards the end of the couch.

"I said no. What are you doing?"

"It doesn't count until I have you in position. Once you feel my cock pressing against your passage, then you're entitled to say no."

I pushed her over the end of the couch. Well, I didn't actually push her. More guided her into position.

"This is ridiculous," she grumbled. "I'm still going to say no."

I didn't say anything, just making sure her skirt was lifted out of the way and resuming my massage of her mound. At the same time I was undoing and dropping my trousers.

I continued stroking and teasing Deanna's pussy while slowly easing her lips apart. When I thought the moment was right I placed my cock between her lips and pushed firmly. Deanna gave a strangled shriek but completely forgot to say no. I continued to push firmly forward, feeling her pushing back to meet me. Then I was home, firmly inside her, testicles banging against her pussy as promised.

"You said you were going to go in slowly and give me a chance to refuse," she gasped at me. "What are you doing now?"

"I did go in slowly, relatively speaking. And I'm freeing your breasts, as promised."

Even while speaking I was pushing her top up and unhooking her bra. Reaching around, I captured the lovely globes that had been straining the top. Why was I unsurprised to find her nipples hard?

For about half a minute I stayed like that, fondling those lovely white globes, my erection held firmly inside her. She was squirming a little, rubbing her breasts against my hands and her bottom against my groin. She seemed to have forgotten that this was the point where she was supposed to be saying no.

It was, I decided, time to get down to business. I pulled slowly back, paused, and drove firmly back into place. Deanna made a sound that seemed to be a cross between a curse and a groan, but pushed just as firmly back to meet me.

From that point things progressed nicely but noisily. I very quickly had a nice tempo going, driving in hard, doing my lusty best. Deanna was pushing back against me, just as lustily, and the wet sound of our groins went slapping around the room.

This sound was accompanied by Deanna's performance. While I was quiet, concentrating on enjoying myself, Deanna was gasping and making little, ah, ah, ah, sounds, interspersed with a wide ranging vocabulary which she was using to describe both me and my ancestry. That was all right. I didn't mind her verbal gymnastics as her physical gymnastics more than made up for it.

(I might make a little note here. With all that she had to say about me and what I was doing, there was one theme she didn't bring up. At no stage did she tell me to stop or that she didn't want this.)

Ashson
Ashson
8,507 Followers
12