Risky Public Play in New York

Paula is a small town girl from upstate New York. Like so many she moved to the city soon after high school with a girlfriend to find employment and "just maybe" be discovered for acting on Broadway. She was the perfect daughter in a perfect middle class family. She had earned all "A's" and been the star in all her high school plays. Now, she is beautiful, shy, very courteous, is talented, is an excellent secretary, is struggling to survive and is depressed.

Three times "wonderful," insightful men identified her naiveté and lack of defenses against the big cruel usury city. All three times she fell for their success, their suave manners, their polished lines and their sex appeal. The first took her virginity and never called again. The second drank too much and was abusive until he went back to a home and a wife that he claimed not to have. The third caught her on the rebound, fucked her, used her, shared her with a friend, degraded her and left her with an empty bank account.

Her three men had left her wiser and had taught her some things about herself that cannot be denied. She loves sex, cums easily, cums wetly and cums often. Her buzzing sex toy collection and the moans of pleasure from her room drove her roommate away months ago. Mom and Dad sent her a little money to get her through a couple more months. Then it would be time to give up on the "Big Apple" and her dreams of experiencing its night life, and, at least once, touching its wealth and luxury.

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Paula's full-length "mink" coat was a gift from her second beau, early in their relationship. It is beautiful, a real eye-catcher with its shinny black, long fur, flowing hood, perfect styling and designer label. Only problem, she found out, it is a wonderful faux fur with a fake label. No one can tell. Real would have been nice. She was glad knowing no animals died to make it for her.

One dark January evening the snow was still falling steadily. She had cabin fever and was horny. She could look out over the busy downtown street from the small empty balcony of her twelfth-floor apartment. She stood nude inside the sliding door. She was still perfectly made up from her workday. She needed air and wanted to go out. She had no date. A naughty thought flashed through her.

Paula turned her "mink" inside out. She put it on so the fur was against her white skin and her shoulder length blond hair flowed over the shiny silk lining. She slipped on the knee high white boots she had worn that day and stepped out onto the patio.

Across the street, two buildings down but on the fourteenth floor, in his luxury townhouse, Dirk was looking out across his empty balcony too. He seldom went out anymore. No one loved the ladies more than he, but last year's "incident" was still on the minds of most people. On an on, the tabloids ran pictures and quotes from women who claimed to have dated him. Most he did not know. Disguises helped. The movement across the street caught his eye.

The white boots and long lovely legs were kicking the snow off the small empty slab. There was enough light from inside the woman's apartment and from others nearby to afford him a rather nice view of the flowing blond hair and the graceful moves. He was trying to imagine her features when she helped.

With the snow mostly gone, Paula grasped the top rail of the rot iron fence that protected her from falling. She arched her back, put her right leg on top of the railing and leaned forward putting her head on her knee. It felt good stretching from being desk bound all day. So good, she leaned back.

Dirk could hardly believe the alabaster, natural "Cs" that proudly thrust from her coat. Her skin glowed and he saw more when she stood upright and repeatedly kicked her legs high over her head. She turned around, swung her other leg up onto the railing and stretched down to it. Her pussy was shaved clean and glowed just like the rest of her.

He imagined he could see the slit. As she twisted, she showed a shapely ass cheek and a perfect thigh. As if to tease him more, she turned and showed that she had a matching cheek and thigh on the other side.

This "half-a-block away," unknown Goddess meant nothing to Dirk. In fact, he disliked her some because she looked like his year-long live-in lover - the one who secretly gathered his memories and sold them cheaply to the yellow-rag of a newspaper that it seemed everyone in the world read. It still puzzled him why she did it. He gave her more every month than she made from the sale of his privacy. Probably, she wanted her fifteen minutes of fame and was promised some break in show business.

He stepped outside, reached over and picked up the long propane lighter that he sometime used on his out-door grill when its sparker didn't work. When the flame leaped from the tip, it seemed to light up his entire patio. He immediately extinguished the flame and just stood looking at the exposed beauty.

Paula had done this to be naughty and show off, but actually knowing that someone was watching shocked her. She grasped her coat around her, raced inside and closed the blinds.

The next morning, Dirk, in his sunglasses, sweats and hoody, paused to talk with his childhood friend and now doorman, "Scott, do a favor for me."

"Anything, Mr. Toller, you know that. This job saved my family and me. With my bad back, I don't have many employment options but the pay here is great thanks to you."

"Knock off the "Mr." stuff, we drank our first beers together. See the apartment high rise, not straight across the street, but the cream colored one to the left?"

"Sure."

"Get your P.I. friend to find out who lives in the twelfth floor apartment, second from the corner, down the side street. Just get the usual stuff. I'm gun shy now."

"You have a right to be. I'm sorry that you are still having to go through all that fabricated bull shit."

"Me too, but I enjoy this city too much to move." Dirk put ten hundred dollar bills into Scott's hand. "This should get him started. Don't let him rip me off too much on the hours he claims."

"I'll make sure he does a good job for you."

The report was complete and interesting. It took ten days. The P.I.'s cover letter thanked Scott for such an easy assignment – same regular secretarial job and hours for the last three years, office gossip about who took her to bed, small town girl, struggling -------on and on the report went with times, routes, name, address, telephone numbers, bank account and the name of her female friend who moved out a few months ago.

Paula had gotten a wonderful sexual thrill from being watched and being nude under her coat. Several times she ventured down to the street to the nearby news stand or crossed the street to the benches around the frozen fountain and then raced back to the safety of her apartment building.

By chance, Dirk had seen her twice and guessed that she was nude under her favorite coat. He decided to add to her dangerous, sexually thrilling game and put some much needed spice back into his life.

Paula was rounding the back side of the fountain and starting to walk faster to race toward safety, when she stepped into a large dark shadow. A strong hand grabbed her coat, pulled her roughly and whispered, "Hi Beautiful, be very quiet and you'll be fine. I only want to ask you a couple of questions."

She felt such overpowering masculine strength; she froze. She shivered from the implied threat in the sexy whisper. Her heart pounded and she waited.

"Stand and talk with me for one minute and then you can run safely away."

Still she waited.

"This coat is beautiful, are you nude under it?" The phantom's hand snaked out. It knew exactly how to slip into her coat and his fingers knew exactly how to roll her right nipple. Her fright, her pounding heart, her carefully planned tease and the knowing hand caused a flush to race through her and settle between her legs. They almost buckled.

The hand trailed down and its thumb and finger rolled her half inch long slippery clit just as it had her nipple. Her body sighed without her permission. Now, she was embarrassed, as well as, frightened. The finger slipped into her as the thumb continued to rub her clit. The phantom whispered, "If only you picked the right men. If only you knew what a treasure you are. Thank you, Beautiful; you and your body have made my year. Come outside again, dressed like this, and maybe you will cum for me next time."

The hand was gone. Paula turned to look. The phantom was gone. In such a large city, no one saw or wanted to know. She raced home. Her body was trembling. Her hands shook so much she could barely grasp and turn the deadbolts. Her eyes were wild but her body was wilder.

She was still standing just inside her door when she spread her legs and thrust two finders of her right hand into her dripping, quivering pussy. A long low growl came from her lips. It surprised her. She never made vocal noises related to sex. Tonight she did. Her cunt squished with every thrust and she moaned loudly. She sat on the cold floor and finished the job while her body twisted, panted, groaned, withered and thrust using her precious coat to slide over the tiled entrance way.

She moved onto her knees. Her breasts felt good mashed into the cold floor with her ass high in the air. They felt good when she twisted her nipples too hard and ground most of her hand into her cunt. Twice and then a third time she came. The third time she needed both hands, one for her clit and one for her g-spot. She glanced at the clock; she had been on the floor masturbating for forty-five minutes.

As Paula untangled herself from her coat and stood nude in just her white boots, she felt something in the pussy juice soaked coat's inside pocket. The little pencil printed note said, "I'm sure you came all over your coat. This is to get it cleaned for next time." There were two one hundred dollar bills stapled to the note. Her mind swirled in confusion and fear that someone would know what she had done.

Then she smiled. She liked knowing that someone knew. Maybe he was dreaming of watching her. She dreamed about her phantom that night and had to bathe again in the morning to make sure the scents from her morning play were washed away.

The next week Paula did not venture across the street to the small park or walk around the fountain. She did step into the dark stairway next the lighted entrance of her building. Dirk watched long enough to be able to see into the dark shadow. She glanced about and put her hands inside her coat. She was good with her hands. Soon she backed roughly against the wall. Then she was still and then she raced back into her lighted safety.

Strange what you can get away with in the middle of eight million people during a busy work day. While Paula was at work, Dirk hung a curtain inside the doorway where she had played. The curtain was black and tucked against the black ceiling with a hidden release cord.

The next Friday night, Paula ventured out again. Her long dark coat, her dark scarf and her dark boots hid that her luscious pale skin was totally nude under the coat. As she ducked into her "secret, public masturbation spot," she heard a rustle behind her. She turned and gasped at the shadow. Her gasp was the opening for it to push a rubber ball into her mouth and whisper, "Good to see you again. Be very quiet. You will not be hurt and will be on your way in just a few minutes."

With that the dark curtain settled down from the ceiling and their space was still filled with the noises from the street but was dark and almost private. Paula did not resist the phantom opening her coat and rubbing his soft warm hands over her nude body. She even did as she was told when it whispered, "Close your eyes, Beautiful. I want to bring you pleasure."

Dirk did not tease. There was the fear of being discovered. He went to work directly on her breasts and her pussy. Her hips thrust to take his fingers deeper. Twice she got close but she seemed to lose concentration. The third time, he grasped her nipple and squeezed. She came wetly. He knelt between her spread legs and kept at her.

Paula leaned into the dirty wall in the dark entry that smelled like urine. He knew exactly where her magic spot was inside her pussy. He knew to slap her ass and when she came again, he knew how to lick her, drink from her and push a finger up her lovely ass. He caught her when her legs buckled. When she sighed, he removed the rubber ball and closed his lips over hers.

She tried to pull away but his breath was sweet and tasted like her pussy. Her tongue ventured out and he nursed it. So quickly, he buttoned her coat and slipped away from her. Paula felt a note in her coat pocket again. She stepped free from the alcove and raced upstairs to read it.

"Paula,

You and your body fascinate and excite me. We have many common interests. I will give you a suggestion along if you want to risk a little for great pleasure. The coat is dirty again. You taste wonderful. Your pussy sucks sweetly and your ass is tight."

Again there were two one hundred dollar bills attached to the note. This time, Paula was more frightened than excited. He had played her, he knew her name and he hinted about a lot more. She did not sleep much, worrying about what could happen to her. Then she realized, he was in control and could make anything happen.

There was only a sliver of a moon the next Thursday. After work, a note was under her door. It simply read, "Roof eight tonight."

She started to call 911, three different times. The note was an order. He knew where she lived. It presumed a lot. She felt its power and blushed at the spasm that rippled through her. It had been a long time since she risked even a date. Never had she been thrilled and excited like her last encounter with her phantom.

Paula felt foolish. She prepared for her phantom like she did for her high school prom date. She was frightened but knew she had to go. There was some strange promise of the blissful unknown. Her body wanted something that she did not understand. Something much more than sex but sex definitely was a component. She put a condom in her coat pocket and went toward the roof, dressed like she always dressed for her phantom.

The alarmed door had a "post-it" note stuck to the handle. It said, "It's OK, take the note and close the door behind you." The February air was in the forties. The light from the tiny sliver of moon glowed off the near white tar, sand and gravel roof. Surely there were lights and cameras. Those were the phantom's problems. Her fear over took her, she turned around to go back but the door latched behind her.

The now familiar voice scared her enough to make her heart beat rapidly but she felt drops of slippery wetness flow onto her thighs.

"I'm so glad you accepted my invitation tonight."

The hooded phantom in the shadows sat her on an old salvaged dining room chair, next to a rough, weathered telephone cable spool table and handed her a glass of fine expensive champagne. It went down too easily but another was there to replace it. For an hour the cold night air was not there.

Fine cheese and fruit mixed with the endless glasses of yeasty Louis Roederer Crystal matched any place in the city. The conversation was smooth, tasteful and pleasant but Paula's dripping cunt screamed for animal attention through sophisticated, but suggestive talk about art, plays and restaurants. Her coat was soaked where she sat; she felt tipsy and she was getting tired of being wooed gracefully.

Dirk could smell her excitement. The conversation did not change while he cleared their table. She had not noticed the steel rings across from her. He took her hands, kissed them, sucked her fingers and while her eyes were closed he pulled her up, kissed her deeply, then forced her over the cable spool.

Her hands were cuffed to the rings and the same rubber ball that she had tasted before pushed between her lips. Gently her phantom lifted her and opened her coat, her rigid nipples mashed down cruelly on the rough table top. It felt good. She dared not move. Splinters would pierce her breasts in a dozen places. Still she wanted to hump into the rough sexy slab.

Paula could have pushed out the rubber ball and screamed but she did not. Her precious coat flipped over her head, strong hands pushed her legs apart and a hot, wet tongue explored her ass, lapped at her streaming wetness, sucked her clit and penetrated between her swollen, red lips.

Then for seconds she was alone. She feared the phantom had disappeared again, but the wide, slippery, steaming helmet of the biggest dick she had ever felt pushed gently, spreading her just to its ridge. Her body betrayed her. She pushed back.

"No Beautiful One, let me bring you pleasure tonight."

The slow, stretching into her sheath was maddening. Without the rubber ball, she would have screamed, "Fuck me, take me deep hard." All she could think about was the wonderful stretching and filling shaft that throbbed as it gained grudging entrance into her body. After every inch, the phantom pulled back and pushed again to press into her magic spot. She gladly followed his order, "Put all your thoughts between your legs and help me give your body pleasure."

Paula had four inches of his madness inside her when his next words shocked her. She had been so preoccupied with pleasure and champagne that all the events had not added together.

"Paula, struggle for me. Pull against your bindings."

She did. Pleasure mixed with panic. She was indeed bound and helpless. Not fantasy. Reality. She pulled and the metal cuffs bit into her wrists, hurting her. Her body was working against her fear. Her hips thrust back forcing him to stretch her wider. The air was cold on her leaking pussy.

Her mind spun into a dozen conflicting thoughts, "Is he wearing a condom?" "God this feels good." "Does he have diseases?" "I can feel him throbbing inside me." "When was my last period?" "He's probably a filthy vagrant." "But he smells clean and good." On and on, her mind spun.

She could vaguely see his shadow. In the midst of her swirling concerns, her ass tilted up and he stretched her even more with a slippery thumb. He used each thrust to coat his thumb with more wetness by pushing it along his cock in her wet cunt to soak it in their combined juices. Paula knew what was going to happen; she held her breath. Slowly, ever so slowly, for the first time, her asshole was penetrated. It didn't hurt. She could feel his thumb rub against his cock through her thin membranes.

Pleasure began to replace thought. He thrust. She wanted, no needed, all of him in her body. More pleasure filled her. Now there were no thoughts. Every cell that was touched made something scream in pleasure. Her breasts against the rough wood; her thighs being driven bruisingly against the edge of the table; her cold and scalding cunt; her ever stretching pussy, her now penetrated ass and even the rough abuse she felt as she ground her clit into the wooden table.

The phantom knew. "The Phantom always knows." He reached up and removed the ball in her mouth, "I wish I could drink the wetness from your lovely tongue."

That did not make much sense to her small town mind but the visual image started her orgasm. Always before, her highs did not last very long. When she would normally be coming down from her high, he thrust, it hurt, stretched her and she flew higher.

The next possible recovery vanished when his thumb stretched her ass and her ass pushed back to suck him deeper. His fingernails raked down her back distracting her. Her own thrusts extended her climax. She could feel wetness flowing from inside her; more wetness than ever before – enough to make a puddle for her hot belly to slide in. With some relief, she could almost feel her climax ending, but he took that too.