Sharking

Sharking. I'd never even heard of it before. It happened to me one day just as I left work. I mean, I just stepped out of the office building where I worked and these two young men jumped me. I don't mean they mugged me as such, and when I say young men I suppose I should overgrown boys.

What happened was that one grabbed my arms and the other flicked up my skirt and jerked my panties down. I was frantically squealing and pushing at the one holding me while at the same time trying to bend down and grab my panties. With hindsight, I realize that I should have just ignored my panties and started scratching and hitting. That would have stopped them.

As it was, my attention was split between doing two things, with the result that I managed to do neither. Not content with just pulling my panties down, the little bastard actually managed to pull them right off, and then the two of them ran off down the street waving my panties like a little flag. All I could do was yell some abuse after them.

Marie, one of the girls who work in the office with me saw the tail end of what happened and, after she stopped laughing, explained what had happened. You can see it all over the internet, apparently. It started in Japan, where boys would film each other yanking down some poor girl's panties or top and then running away. They don't normally take the panties as a souvenir, but those two little sods did, curse them.

"Just stop at a supermarket and buy another pair," said Marie. "There's nothing you can do about it but forget it."

I probably should have listened to Marie and done just that, but I was too furious with those little animals to listen to reason. I was damned if they were going to force me to buy more panties. I had plenty at home. I'd just put on some more when I got home and be careful until I got there.

It's funny, but it was both exciting and nerve-wracking travelling home without panties. I had a seat on the train and you can be sure that I kept my legs tight together for the whole journey. Once I reached my home station I figured that I was home and hosed, as they say, and I must have relaxed my vigilance just a trifle.

All I had to do was cut across the park and then walk two blocks to my house. I was wearing a flirty skirt, and you know how they billow in the wind. With panties on, I wouldn't really care. With no panties? I kept my hand by my side as I strolled through the park. The problem came when that damned wind blew some hair across my face.

It was automatic. Something I've done a thousand times without thinking of it. The wind blows your hair across your face and you brush it away again. So I did. And the rotten wind promptly slipped up my flirty skirt and blew it high.

He was a big man. Over six foot and full of muscle. Pleasantly ugly to look at, a workman of some sort. I swear, people would pay good money to get a look at his face when he saw me displaying all my charms. Well, the lower half of my charms, anyway. He couldn't have looked more stunned if I'd just up and slapped him with a wet fish. I would have giggled but I was too embarrassed, knowing what he was looking at.

It was one of those times when the ebb and flow of traffic in the park had ebbed, and we were the only two on the path. Red-faced, I started to stammer an apology, explaining about the sharking, but while I was talking he was walking towards me with this funny look on his face.

I just started backing away, still talking, trying to explain, while he kept coming towards me. Somehow or other I just backed right off the park and under one of those big trees they have there. An oak, I think. I just know it was really big and solid and I backed right up to it and could go no further.

This guy still didn't say anything. He just stopped right in front of me, almost touching me, while I was still chatting away, trying to excuse myself. Next thing I knew he'd reached down and lifted the front of my skirt again and he damn well touched me there.

Enough was enough. I stopped apologising and pushed against him, telling him to leave off or I'd scream. So he stopped, of course. Hear my hysterical laughter? He let me go, all right. His hand covered my mouth, instead, and he pushed me more firmly against the tree.

His knee pushed between mine, moving my legs apart, and then he was pushing into me. And I don't mean he was sticking a finger in me, either.

I was stunned. I mean, I'm sure every woman had thought about being raped at some stage, either curious or fearful. I'm no different, but I'd always assumed that it would be dark and I'd be trapped in a lonely place and I'd be assaulted.

I had never by any stretch of the imagination thought that I'd be leaning back against a tree, in the local park, in the middle of the day, with people wandering around, while a gorilla slowly penetrated me.

And I mean slowly. He took his time, just steadily pushing into me. And in. And in. It's one thing to be worried about a cock hitting your tonsils if you're giving a blow job. It's something completely different when you get that same worry caused by someone slowly penetrating your pussy. He just seemed to keep on coming.

He finally gave one last little thrust that almost lifted me off my feet, and then he seemed to relax a little. Apparently he was finally home. His hand came away from my mouth and he was pulling my top loose from my skirt, and then both his hands were inside my top, grabbing my boobs.

I started to squawk as soon as he took his hand away from my mouth, but he just looked at me and told me to be quiet. So I was.

I could feel him starting to move in me and all I could do was take it. Well, maybe not quite all. I was rather exasperated to find that I was moving in rhythm with him. Not that I wanted to, mind you. It just seemed to happen.

He started off quite lazily, and soon I just sort of fell into the habit of moving with him. When I say he was moving lazily, I meant just that. He seemed to be taking me as something to do to fill in some time. There was no hurry. Just a firm inward thrust followed by a leisurely withdrawal, with another firm inward thrust following.

I was not a virgin. I knew all about sex. But I had never been screwed so damned carelessly before. There was no hot excitement, no eager getting acquainted, no hot touching of bodies. Just this leisurely rocking, with him driving hard into me and then relaxing out.

Quite frankly, after a while it started driving me wild.

I wasn't worried any longer that I was being raped in the park and that other people were around and might spot us at any moment. My concern now seemed to be to get this oaf to start moving it along. He'd stirred me up until I was hot and excited and wanted action and what was he doing? Rocking along as though he was sitting in front of the fire in his old Granny's rocking chair.

I was pushing hard to meet him when he came into me, babbling something or other, trying to get him to put some drive into his drives. And he was just smiling at me, enjoying himself at my expense.

It went on and on. I was this close to a climax. So close I could smell it, and he was just seesawing along, pleasuring himself with my body and ignoring my needs. I was gasping and clutching hold of him. If he'd been any smaller I'd have been picking him up and shaking him.

And lover boy rocked on. At least, now he was squeezing my breasts in time to his sticking me, so I suppose this heralded a change of some sort. It lifted me a fraction closer to my climax, and I was almost screaming in frustration.

I started screaming in earnest as he suddenly closed his mouth over mine and hammered me, finally blasting into me like a man should instead of that relentless teasing. With that first vigorous thrust I went up in flames, shuddering and screaming, with my screams being swallowed by his mouth devouring mine. He held me helpless against the tree while he drove in relentlessly, and I barely noticed as my climax seemed to go on and on.

By the time I came out of my daze lover-boy had gone. He'd just walked away, leaving me leaning against the tree. All I could do was lean there for a few minutes, before gathering up my strength and continuing my walk home, albeit I was now walking on legs that were wobbling a little.

What really annoyed me was those two little bastards who'd nicked my panties. Because of them I had nothing with which to cover myself downstairs, and I could feel the after effects of that man on my legs. I could only hope no-one noticed.