I was doing a mid-paced run in the late morning sun. Not from being a masochist so much as to escape the stresses of daily life. Damn influencers on screen make it all seem so easy, but sometimes life just doesn’t live up to the promises and running is a good way to escape and get back to myself.

Checked my vitals as I exited some nameless half-finished housing development before walking the short side road to my grandparents’ place. Info went straight from my wristband to my phone and it was easy to review, from number of steps to heartbeat and time to get from A to B.

To tell the truth, I hated running. Hated most exercise just for the sake of exercise. Only did it to clear my head, stay fit, and make my minimal five-nine frame look good when I tried getting a girl to go out with me. My biggest problem was that I was clean shaven and thin, and while my running and workouts and well-toned muscles didn’t hurt, my job as a graphic artist didn’t pay all that well. I also never found my simple life or abused yet still capable car to be of any interest to college girls or working women, all looking for a man who could splurge on wild evenings out or support a family.

The run had been only two miles up a slight incline but I was still sweating in the summer heat. Finished my small bottle of water, did some post-run stretches, and trudged up a short path to the newly finished planned community my grandparents lived in.

It was an odd twist of fortune for me to go to a college two states away and yet wind up working at a brick and mortar graphics studio in a small city not far from where my parents had grown up. Then my grandparents moved into their new place, just a five minute drive from where I rented an apartment.

They’d recently sold their home of 30 years and downsized into this community of pre-fab duplexes everybody called townhouses. It was nice being able to enjoy my grandmother’s occasional meal and even her leftovers. Yet I would have been more happy for them to set up shop in Arizona or Florida so that I could visit during the cold months. The final decision was made when my grandfather continued working part-time at his same place of business. Maybe they’ll make Florida in another ten years.

Shook those thoughts from my head as I walked across the grassy incline to their home. Only six months since they’d moved in and bits of old concrete and even nails could still be seen in the poorly watered strip of lawn this section of the community shared.

Up the back steps, through the laundry area, and then into the kitchen where I expected to see my grandmother preparing lunch. Took two steps to the kitchen sink and splashed water onto my face. No towel on the rack where it normally was, but on turning around I saw one neatly folded on the counter that separated the kitchen from the front room.

Upon drying my face, I first noticed something odd in how the house smelled. Not bad, but certainly different. Then the many notes and decorations on the refrigerator. I remembered my grandmother wanting everything to be stainless steel and this one was white.

With a quick turn on my heel, I looked over the counter into the front room. Gone was the big recliner and flatscreen, the corner before me having only two small padded chairs with a table between them.

Wrong house. Not hard to confuse homes in such a cookie-cutter development, but I was still appalled at the mistake. My first thought was to escape before somebody shot me for trespassing. My second thought was to stand still and stare at the person lying on the sofa at the other end of the room.

A woman or girl, head on the far armrest and facing the back. She was staring at her phone, engrossed in something on the screen. But none of that was what froze me in place.

The girl was wearing only a long thin pullover emblazoned with different colored cats, but it had been hiked up over her hips, which allowed me to see everything going on between her pure white thighs.

The crotch of her light blue panties had been stretched to the side, giving me a clear view of the black pubic hair and puffy pink lips of flesh the girl’s fingers were exploring. Not so much exploring as attacking, two fingers going knuckles deep into her vagina, over and over in an irregular pattern.

I watched for a full minute, engrossed in how the girl would push in quickly for a dozen thrusts, then somewhat slower, her fingers seeming to curl and pull back before returning to the thrusts. This last set of moves, deep and fast, produced a slight but noticeable sucking sound. The sound of sex, of a woman having very wonderful things being done to her.

Accompanying the wet sounds of sexual passion going on between her legs I could hear faint high-pitched noises, like whines or yelps, the woman’s vocal sounds being matched with her hips and firm ass and all the rest of her body moving and jerking on the sofa. It was a symphony of sound and a dance of desire, a private if most deviant scene of sexual excess I had no right to be witness to.

I should have immediately turned and left, but still I remained in place, completely transfixed by the incredibly sexual act being played out before me. The sight of the girl, the small woman, the beautiful feminine form, laying there and giving herself pleasure, was too mesmerizing to just walk away from.

Perhaps, also, I could not leave because the monster had taken me over. It had been weeks since I’d had a date, more than a month since a woman had given me the joy of lying with her, and perhaps a week since I’d bothered with the very frustrating act of releasing my sexual tension into the bathroom sink. More than anything at that instant I wanted sex. I wanted that girl.

Yes. A girl, or a young woman at most. Small, delicate, and as white as the purest marble. Her long black hair hung down well beyond her neck and to the floor, her short frame and legs easily able to pull upon and stretch down the length of the sofa. If just a girl, then a forbidden fruit for me, one year out of college, but I couldn’t resist. All decisions were made, the die cast, my soul sold to a lustful demon. Without a thought of what I was doing, yet knowing full well what I intended to do, I slipped off my shoes and quietly walked toward the prone but passionate body that lay before me.

The carpet quieted my movement, and as I kneeled behind the girl she still had no idea of my presence. If anything, she was increasingly preoccupied with the action going on between her thighs. One knee up, legs wide and butt pushed back to the edge of the cushions, her black forested, pink lips of flesh that made up the whole of her vulva only inches away and easy for me to make out in detail.

The exposed labia were wet, the valley of soft pink flesh held within her thighs filled with liquid being made good use of by the girl’s increasingly active fingers. A rivulet or two of liquid excitement had made their way down the lower thigh and firm round ass cheek of the girl, ending where the fabric of the sofa rose to hold her in an embrace.

The overt sexual allure of the girl’s crotch was broken only by the long white fingers she was using to enthusiastically fuck herself into a heightened state of sexual frenzy. The wet sucking sound had increased, as had the speed of her fingers, and though I could make out sounds coming from the girl’s phone and screen, I was more taken by the soft whimpering she was making on her own.

She was so beautiful. Her face so delicate, but as I listened to the sounds of sex and took in her delicate physical form, I was able to see that a portion of the pull-over shirt had also slipped down, allowing her upper breast to break free of the simple cloth covering. Not large but a handful, the flesh rising up in a symmetrical mound and topped with a light brown areola and rigid nipple. This is when I noticed the girl was heaving, breathing heavily, her eyes still on the screen of the phone she held in her spare hand.

The fact that I had yet to be noticed kneeling on the rug behind her was a good indication of how absorbed she was in the fantasy that had the girl opening her legs and fucking herself with such a vengeance.

I was taken over by the lusty sex this girl had drawn me into, but I knew I had to act quickly.

I had no plan other than to crush the girl under my much larger body and force my raging hard dick inside of her well exercised and needy pussy. Raw sex at its most grotesque. I wanted her, but the idea of such an overt physical rape of the girl repelled me.

Instead of just sex, a simple fuck of the girl while filling her with my seed and taking her as mine, I wanted to enjoy her. How? My mind was confused but I certainly knew I wanted to share more with the girl than a moment of violence and a forced exchange of sexual fluids.

It would have been so easy to just pull the girl’s fine ass back and impale her sweet vaginal sheath on my ever demanding cock. I wanted that so badly, but another part of me intervened, insisting that I take and enjoy all the pleasure I could from the female form before me. The girl deserved some warning, some idea of what was about to be done by this crazed man who had yet to even see her full face.

With that delusion in mind, I slipped one hand under her raised knee and pulled up while my other hand pulled the girl’s lower thigh up and out. With her thighs held tight in my hands, I raised her ass up while opening her crotch for easy use. This allowed me to pull her firm butt into my stomach while I lowered my lips to taste of the vaginal secretions that had been flowing from within her.

It wasn’t quite as easy as I make it seem. With the first touch the girl let out a yelp and raised her head, followed by a scream as her body turned into a whirlwind. Her legs kicked, her hands pummeled me, but with considerable patience and all of my strength I pulled her tight into where I was kneeling before the low sofa. My hands pulled her legs over my shoulders, essentially turning the girl upside down and, most opportunely, allowing her long shirt to fall down to her chin and fully expose her breasts.

They were beautiful, white orbs of desire, but I had to ignore them for the time being.

I immersed my face within the hot slick liquids that flowed within the girl’s thickly furred lower lips. It was an easy thing for my lips and teeth to gain purchase of her distended clitoris. Even as I made a space for my face within the warm folds of her engorged labia, my hands were busy blocking her ineffectual fists. In only seconds I had control of her arms and had pulled them back, trapping her. Her feet and legs remained active, but I didn’t worry about those.

My mind was taken with the taste of the girl. I sucked and nibbled and tongued and sucked and swallowed, my entire mouth dedicated to immersing myself in the girl’s most forbidden realm. Her clitoris was swollen enough for me to trap between my teeth, my tongue lashing the stiff button as I sucked and swallowed and nibbled in a vain hope to give the girl pleasure. For minutes I ignored the girl, holding her prisoner as I drank from the cup of nectar between her thighs. She was so delicious, her fluids brimming over and flowing from within this black forested valley, and I found myself being overtaken by the scent and feel and taste of her womanhood.

Then I realized she had stopped shouting in mixed English and another language, and her bare beautiful white legs had ceased trying to kick a hole in my back.

And so I took a deep breath, breathing in the scent of her sex, and releasing one of her hands, I pulled the bits of shirt away from her face. Looking down, beyond her flat stomach and two firm white breasts and into her face, I gave a long suck and another loving kiss and lash of my tongue to her clitoris and spoke to her.

“You are so delicious. So beautiful and delicious. I could drink you for breakfast and never need another meal for the rest of the day You taste of flowers and nectar and all that is wonderful in the world. You are so delicious to me.”

And this beautiful girl looked up at me, where my chin rested within her feminine folds, and even while she continued to gasp for breath, she narrowed her eyes and said, in a quizzical sort of way: “Delicious?”

She spoke softly, asking a question while repeating my word. I was unsure if she understood what I had said or meant. Her voice filled my mind, feeling out the thick accent behind the single word of English. There was also a slur to the middle portion of the word, as though it was difficult for her tongue and mouth to form and enunciate. Then she said more words but in another language which I suddenly recognized as Japanese.

Of course Japanese. The writing on a card affixed to the refrigerator, the small teapot on the counter, and the large painting above the sofa all indicated their owner to be Japanese. My work in graphic arts had brought a lot of Asian and in particular Japanese culture into both classwork and research assignments. So there before me, I had trapped a young Japanese woman. Small, delicate, and lovely in a way I had no words to describe. Her oval eyes, cute nose, small mouth with full lips. All part of a face I was immediately drawn to.

With my eyes maintaining contact with the girl’s own wide black ovals, my tongue slipped into her hot bubbling hole a few more times, followed by my mouth giving a quick nibble and kiss to her clitoris. Her mouth opened, eyes wide in seeming disbelief.

I slowly lowered myself, crushing the girl’s body onto herself, until her knees came close to her shoulders and her open crotch was but inches above her disbelieving face. I smiled when a few drops from her overflowing slit fell and landed on her pale cheek. Then I stretched myself over and down to kiss the girl, releasing a small amount of her very own liquid lust into her mouth. A light tongue to her lips followed by more light kisses, and to my utter joy I felt her tongue touch mine.

My tongue reached in, my lips sucking on that first delicate inch of her tongue, and as she retreated from my mouth, I looked into her eyes and said again, “Delicious. You are delicious.”

Retreating from her, I raised my larger form and allowed her back to straighten. Against all of my physical urges I took five seconds to remove my shirt, and then more seconds to enjoy the sensation of rubbing my hairy chest against the girl’s bare ass cheeks. Then another minute of tasting the juices streaming from the girl’s forbidden garden of sexual delight, using my tongue to again lap and suck at her clitoris before pulling away and giving long sloppy kisses to her inner thighs.

So beautiful and delicious, but my body was shaking from my own sexual need. Falling back on my heels, I pulled the girl’s open legs around my hips. Hands holding tight to her firm ass cheeks, I visibly shocked her when I pushed my throbbing boner through the length of her dripping wet slit and presented to her eyes the upper portion of the cudgel I intended to impale her on.