Bitch

I first met Belinda (if you could call it meeting her) in the parking lot at the mall. I'm sure you all know how hard it is to park at times. I spotted a woman with a shopping trolley full of goodies heading into the parking area so I sort of stooged along behind her. I was lucky as she stayed in the row I was in, opened the back of her car and started loading.

I just settled into a comfortable position so I could take her spot as soon as it was vacated and flicked on my indicator. The woman driving (not Belinda) noticed me there, smiled and held up a finger to show she'd only be a minute. Mind you, it was a woman's minute, which is the equivalent of three or four normal minutes, but I wasn't in a hurry. She unloaded and then ran her trolley over to the trolley bay and headed back to her car.

She was actually getting into her car when another car (Belinda's) turned into the row, spotted the woman, and hurried over to wait and take the spot, completely ignoring my prior right. The trouble was, I didn't think I could do anything about it. The car already there would be turning in my direction and would temporarily block my access, something that this intruder could take advantage of.

I was muttering unkind words about people who jumped other people's spots and was prepared to move on once both cars had gone. I was given a nice surprise. The woman backed out but, instead of driving towards me and letting the intruder in, she propped and indicated that I should go ahead and park.

I waved, smiling, and took my parking spot. The woman drove off with a pleased look on her face (probably had her own spot pinched at times) and the woman who was the would-be parking thief (Belinda) went spare.

I kid you not. She wound down her window and just screamed abuse at me. How dare I take the spot she wanted? Had I no manners? I could see that she wanted that spot. Yes, well as far as I was concerned she could see that I wanted the spot and was there well before her.

I ignored her tirade, putting it down to PMS. Some women get that way. I started strolling towards the mall while she took off on her hunt for a parking spot. Now I was cutting between the cars, just making a beeline for the doors. Two rows over I had to make a very fast step or two as a car came cruising down the lane at what I considered an unsafe speed. You guessed it. Belinda. I won't say she was trying to hit me but she didn't seem to be trying to miss, either.

Anyway, I made it safely to the mall, did my shopping, made it back to my car, and went home without further incidents.

The second time I met this sweet young lady was a week later, in the actual mall itself. I was standing outside a shop, looking at the window display, wondering who on earth would want to but a toothbrush holder shaped like a minion. The operative words in that sentence are standing, hence not moving, and window, with a window by no stretch of the imagination being a doorway. In other words, I was stationary and in no one's way.

It didn't help me. This woman came charging out of the shop, turning into the passageway, looking at her phone instead of her surroundings, and crashing into me.

She promptly dropped all her stuff. I was about to bend down and help her pick it up when she gave me a serving. I recognised the language before I recognised the woman. It was Belinda, livid that I'd bumped into her and knocked her things down.

She finished up with, "You could at least consider giving me a fucking hand to pick it up."

I promptly looked thoughtful and rubbed my chin. She glared up at me from where she was crouched, picking up bits and pieces.

"Well?" she snapped.

"I'm considering it," I replied. "Ah, I think the decision will be no."

I turned and walked away. A very long PMS, I decided, listening to her opinion of me.

Several days later I was taking a walk on the beach in the evening. It was still quite warm but for some reason no-one else seemed to be around. Probably too late, as it would be dusk soon. There wasn't really enough sun for anyone to be out tanning and there was a coolish breeze starting to blow in from across the water. I expected that the temperature would drop significantly over the next hour.

Considering the fading of the sun and the cooling breeze I was quite surprised to find one last sunbather catching the last few rays. A very nicely shaped young woman in a not very big bikini. She must have heard my steps as she looked up at me in irritation.

"Can't you be more fucking careful," she snarled. "You're kicking sand all over me."

How about that. My old friend Belinda, complete with mouth.

I just gave her an indifferent look, then smiled.

"Grass," I said, pointing down. "Sand is the yellow stuff over there." (Pointing towards the beach proper.) "I think you'll find that the wind is the culprit, picking up the odd grain and totally careless about where it throws it. Perhaps you should speak to the weatherman and arrange that he doesn't schedule wind on the days you want to show off your figure."

I received a dagger look and a clearly and furiously enunciated, "Get fucked."

I had totally had it with Belinda. If you're wondering about how I know her name a friend spotted me getting a mouthful at the mall and stirred me about it. He actually knew Belinda. For some reason she just seemed mad at the world, he told me.

Two long strides and I was standing next to her. Bending down I just grabbed the bottom of her bikini and stripped it straight down and off, leaving her lying there with just a skimpy top barely covering her breasts.

What I expected was for Belinda to rear up, fighting mad, furious and screaming, willing to have a go at me. I was all set to take off running, waving my captured bikini pants as I went.

What I got was a total shock. She just went to water, cringing away from me. I'm like, "What the hell?" and she's looking at me as if I'm the reincarnation of the Marquis de Sade crossed with Attila the Hun. For some reason that really narked me. Standing there, looking at her quivering at my feet, I casually dropped my own trousers. Even though scared she truly had a lovely figure.

She didn't put up any resistance as I pushed her legs apart and knelt between them. All she did was shake her head slowly from side to side, muttering, "No. Please. I don't want to. It hurts."

Why would it hurt, I wondered? If the woman's not a virgin a man would have to be a bit of an animal to hurt her, unless she wanted it, of course. BDSM has never been my thing but some people have weird tastes.

I caressed her pussy lightly, and she did nothing, unless you call quivering slightly with fright something. A bit of gentle stroking and I could feel a reaction from her body, even if she was still shaking and saying no. Actually, she hadn't stopped saying no since I'd started to touch her.

She put up zero resistance as I spread her lips and placed the head of my erection against her. She was just watching, waiting for something, apparently expecting something fearful to happen. I shrugged mentally and pushed very lightly.

She was damp and getting wetter as I sank into her. I was moving at a pace slightly below dead slow, barely easing into her, waiting for her to panic and scream. (Which would have been my cue to panic and run.) Instead she just kept on giving fearful little protests while I sank smoothly in, her body (non-virginal, I might add) yielding to me with no problems.

Before I knew it I was firmly sheathed inside her, filling her passage to the brim with rampart cock. And she was still shivering in her shoes, dreading what was to come. Damned if I knew what was going on.

One thing I did know. I wasn't going to give a full-blooded fucking to a woman who was petrified with fright. I stayed right where I was, cock in place but not moving. Instead, I reached up and freed her breasts from her bikini top. Then I idly played with them, waiting.

I lightly teased her breasts, caressing them, stroking them, squeezing softly, teasing the nipple, and repeating the lot. Sometimes I'd concentrate on one breast, sometimes the other, sometimes both.

Belinda was lying under me, apparently scared rigid. With nothing happening but her breasts being teased she started to lose that trapped mouse look, opting for annoyed irritation. From there she moved by stages to resentful frustration. My cock was in her, causing the resentment, but not doing anything, which she found frustrating. After that it was a relatively short step to angry indignation.

"If you're going to rape me do you think you could stop mucking around and get on with it," she suddenly demanded.

"Please," I replied. "It's my rape. I'll handle it any way I want to."

"But you're not doing anything," she almost yelled at me.

"Yes, I am," I contradicted.

"What?"

"I'm waiting."

"What are you waiting for?" she asked, each word bitten off.

"For you to decide that I'm not going to hurt you."

"But you're raping me."

"But it's not hurting. Just because you're against it, it doesn't mean that it's going to hurt."

"But it does hurt," she protested.

"Where? How?" I demanded.

"Um," she said, waving a hand generally in the vicinity of her groin. "It might not be hurting yet but it will."

"Really? I'll tell you what. Seeing that you're so impatient I'll start taking you a bit more actively. You can concentrate on what I'm doing and let me know when it hurts. I suppose you know enough to be able to move with me when I start on you?"

"Of course. What do you think I am?" she said, looking totally confused. Non-virgin notwithstanding, I don't think she had a clue.

I relaxed out of her a little, gently pushing back against her.

"Push to meet me," I murmured softly, repeating the movement.

She did, moving in a very tentative manner. I kept it up, slowly taking her, persuading her to respond. It didn't take long before she was moving smoothly with me, with a very surprised look on her face. I picked up the pace a little, bringing her along. Soon I had a nice rhythmic motion going and she was right there with me.

"Hurting yet?" I asked softly, and she shook her head.

"So how does it feel?"

She paused a moment as though considering.

"Good?"

"Just good? I'll have to try harder," I whispered, watching her eyes widen in trepidation.

I tried harder, kicking things up a notch. She was still with me, still looking stunned, still willing to keep going. I kept it up, watching the expressions on her face, enjoying the feel of her and the sheer astonishment she was feeling at what was happening to her. (I also felt a vast irritation at whoever had given her a hard time in the past. Some people are natural bastards.)

Belinda was no longer thinking and worrying. She was just feeling and doing, taking pleasure from what was being done to her. She was making soft little noises, appreciating the feel of me driving into her, pushing hard against me to make me come in faster and deeper.

It was time I thought to try to push her over the edge. I started to make shorter strokes, letting me speed up the way I was hitting her. She reacted splendidly, clinging to me, her voice rising in expectation. Then she made a yowling sound and climaxed, clinging frantically to me. I just hastened to push myself that little harder, finally ejaculating while she was still shuddering from her climax.

She didn't say a word afterwards, just watched as I got dressed, making no move to put her bikini back on. She looked confused, as though she wasn't sure of what happened. Or if she did know, but couldn't believe it. I touched her face lightly and smiled at her and then went on my way.

The next day was another hot day. I was again down on the beach in the evening with one slight difference. There were quite a few people around. I strolled along and found Belinda lying in about the same place. I just ambled over to her and looked down at her.

She looked back up at me, looking slightly nervous, but defiant.

"There're people around," she pointed out in a small voice.

"There are indeed," I said quietly.

With that I went down on one knee and started drawing the bottom of her bikini off.

"What are you doing," she squealed.

"Taking these off," I said, pulling them down and off. "And don't yell or you'll attract attention and people will come."

"Give those back," she hissed at me.

Interesting. Not scared of me now. Now to see how far I could push her.

"Roll over on your tummy," I told her.

"Why?" she asked, indignant.

"Because I'm going to lift your bottom up and take you most vigorously from behind."

"You can't," she gasped. "I don't want you to. And there're people around. They'll see."

If you really don't want me to, why are you so worried about people seeing? I was smart enough not to say that out loud.

"Just do as you're told," I said firmly, "and do it quietly. No-one will notice as we're a little out of the way here."

"You can't do this," she insisted, but she was also rolling over onto her tummy.

I crouched down beside her, and tugged at her hips, indicating that I wanted them lifted. I pushed her knees to where I wanted them, then clasped her pussy and rubbed it. She gasped and squirmed a little, muttering little protests. I unhooked her top and let it drop.

"I'm serious," she protested. "You just can't do this to me."

Then why aren't you rolling back over and pulling up your pants?

I knelt behind her and lowered my trousers. She had her head turned, watching what I was doing. An odd look was on her face, still looking somewhat scared of what was going to happen but there was also a hopeful look, as she remembered what took place yesterday.

"I'm not going to start dead slow this time," I told her, while I continued to rub my hand up and down along her slit, stirring her up nicely. "I'm going to take you quite fast and keep going the same way. Do try to keep up with me."

"But there's people," she was still saying as I rubbed my cock against her slit, finally bringing it to a halt where her lips were pouting and glistening.

I pushed, she clasped a hand to her mouth to stop a squeal, and then she was pushing back to take me as I drove firmly in. I was quite happy to skip all the rigmarole of the previous day. It had served its purpose. Now it was time to take her hard, showing her how to enjoy being taken.

XX (That's my fingers being crossed as I prayed that I've read her correctly.)

I didn't pause, or even slow down, as I took her. As soon as I'd driven in I was pulling out and coming back again. My hands had reached for and claimed her breasts, squeezing them in time to the energetic thrusting I was doing. Belinda was all, "Oh my god. Oh my god," repeating it over and over while she humped her hips, her bottom bobbing up and down as I drove in, time and again.

I kept it up for as long as I could. Her squealing and gabbling was getting shriller but she was still keeping her voice down. Witnesses at this stage was definitely something she did not want. What she did want, on the other hand, was her climax. She was tossing in, "Please," and, "Harder," and "Oh, fuck me," amongst all the other things she was babbling, wanting to be taken and used until she came.

She flung a quick look behind to look at me for a moment, watching me ply my trade, so to speak. There was no sign of nervousness or fear now. Lustful anticipation, yes, but no fear.

Smiling I went at it even harder. She buried her face in her hands and I could hear muffled screams of what I assumed to be enthusiasm and expectation. The way her body was reacting to mine certainly suggested that. Satisfied that she was being satisfied I piled on the pressure, pushing hard to lift us both over the edge.

I beat her to the punch this time, nearly groaning with relief as I let myself go. It seemed that the splash of hot semen was all that she needed to trigger her climax and more muffled screams escaped from around her hands as she shuddered and came. She came rather violently, too, giving me a moment of worry for the safety of my personal equipment.

I sank back onto the grass while she seemed to just ooze down onto her towel. She turned and glared at me.

"You're a maniac," she snapped. "Anyone could have come past. What the hell do you think they'd have said?"

"Probably nothing worth hearing," I pointed out. "It wasn't as though either of us would have been listening to them."

She rolled her eyes and relaxed back onto the towel.

"Of course," I said quietly, "they may still have something to say if they walk past, what with you acting as though it's a naturist beach."

Belinda promptly demonstrated that she hadn't forgotten how to swear. With a curse at me and the whole male gender, she scrabbled for her bikini, hastening to pull it on. I rose, promising to see her again, then I left.

She called out something about never visiting the beach again but I just waved and continued on my way.

It was a week before I ran into Belinda again. She hadn't been at the beach the last couple of visits so maybe she was staying away from it or maybe she had chosen a different beach. Not a problem, I thought. If I met her, I met her, and if I didn't, que sera sera.

My car is a big, powerful, four wheel drive. Not because I want to tell the world that I'm a big macho man but because I actually need it. It's my official work car and I frequently have to go bush over some trails that are more imagined that there.

On this day I was driving through the tamer parts of the mall. I was cruising down one lane looking for a handy parking spot when Belinda came trotting along. I gave a beep and indicated she should get in.

"What do you want?" she asked, sounding awfully suspicious.

"Just get in. I'll tell you after I've parked."

She was silly enough to do so and I promptly drove over to the wilds. At any mall there's a parking area that's always underused. This is generally because it's so inconveniently placed, entailing a long hike to the mall itself. A terrible place to park, but with a couple of advantages that I could now make use of. One, there was always parking available, and two, it was relatively deserted, pedestrian wise. (Mall workers tended to get relegated to this parking area and they wouldn't be around until change of shift.)

Once parked I move between the two front seats and sat on the bench passenger seat, indicating that Belinda should join me. She did, but sat right on the far side of the seat, keeping some distance between us.

"It occurred to me that you might have thought that I took unfair advantage of you the last couple of times we met," I said.

"Advantage? Nice word for assault and rape," she muttered.

"Be nice," I said, looking hurt. "I'm here to apologise and make it up to you."

"Make it up to me?" she said, sounding staggered. "And exactly how do propose to make up for ravishing me at the beach?"

I considered pointing out that she'd turned out to be a most enthusiastic victim but decided better not.

"What I decided was that I should just relax here and let you ravish me in return," I told her. "You can pull down my trousers and thrust yourself upon me and I won't resist. It'll all be up to you."

"You expect me to take off your trousers and have sex with you in the back of a car in a public car park?" She sounded slightly surprised.

"That sums it up," I agreed, nodding. "That way you'll find yourself in the dominant position."

"That way I'll find myself in a police cell for indecent and licentious behaviour in public. The beach was bad enough, but the mall? There are people everywhere."

"Not everywhere," I explained. "Inside the mall, yes, and in the main parking areas, yes, but not here. And even if they were here they can't easily see inside this vehicle. You may have noticed it's rather high."