I Stripped Naked in the Middle of the Street and He Found Me Like That

I left the gym a little after eleven at night, my body still hot and my head full of images I shouldn’t have been having. I checked the time on my phone and decided to take the shortcut back, those in-between streets that cut through the neighborhood and are almost deserted at night. I was wearing thin leggings and a sports top, and the air had started to get colder. Every step reminded me of what had happened a while earlier with that guy in the weights room—how he had cornered me in the changing rooms, how he had shoved two fingers deep into my cunt over my leggings, how he had made me come by biting my neck—and I felt my crotch soaked through, my lips swollen and throbbing, my clit so sensitive that the seam of my leggings scraped me with every step.

As I walked, I kept looking at the houses’ windows. In some, the lights were still on; in others, people were smoking on the balconies, shadows still behind the curtains. And then an absurd idea crossed my mind, one of those thoughts you don’t really think, they just appear and heat you up even more. What if I change right here, in the middle of the street?

I went up to a small tree growing crookedly beside the sidewalk and slipped underneath its branches. I looked one way, then the other. No one was there. My heart was pounding in my chest with a mix of fear and excitement I hadn’t felt in years.

The first thing was the top. I took it off slowly and the cold air hit my tits all at once. My nipples went rock hard, like two little pebbles, and I let out a sigh. I pinched them myself, once, twice, and felt a current run straight down to my cunt. Then I pulled down my leggings, sliding them down my legs, and I was completely naked in the middle of the night, with my sneakers as my only clothing. The fabric of the leggings came off sticky, with a dark patch of dampness right where my sex had been pressed. I brought it to my nose without thinking and breathed in my own smell, thick, of a hot female. I crouched to put my sweaty clothes into my bag and take out the clean ones, and in that position I felt a stream of wetness slipping down the inside of my thigh.

It was at that moment, bent over and naked, with my ass out and my cunt exposed facing the street, that I heard some weird groans coming from the corner.

***

I froze. I instinctively hid behind the trunk and peered out just a little, my bag clutched tight against my body. It wasn’t a threat. It was Genaro, the neighborhood drunk, that man who was always wandering around with a bottle in his hand and a lost smile. He was staggering along, talking to himself, taking crooked steps that led nowhere.

Suddenly he veered to one side and fell hard to the ground. The impact sounded dull. I completely forgot I was naked and ran to help him.

“Genaro, are you okay? Can you hear me?” I asked, kneeling beside him.

I took the bottle out of his hand and set it aside. I crossed over him and took him under the shoulders, trying to lift him. He weighed a ton. I managed to straighten his torso a little, and then he opened his eyes just a crack, looked at me, and started laughing.

“I’m already dead,” he mumbled, dragging out the words. “I’m seeing a little angel with no clothes. God’s got some huge tits waiting for me, holy shit.”

Only then did I remember I was still naked, in the middle of the street, over a man sprawled on the ground. I hurried to pull him up while his hands slid clumsily over my back, my sides, brushing one breast, squeezing one ass cheek without even realizing it. I managed to get him to his feet and drag him over to the tree. I kept looking at the windows, waiting for a light to expose me at any moment.

I propped him against the trunk and moved away to go to my bag and get dressed quickly. But Genaro grabbed me around the waist with a strength I hadn’t expected and pressed me against his body.

“Genaro, what are you doing?” I said, trying to wriggle free.

I felt him squeeze me harder. With his other hand he started roaming over me, clumsy and erratic: down my legs, squeezing my ass, up to my tits. His hands were rough, callused, with that hard skin of men who work outdoors. One of those rough hands caught a whole tit and kneaded it without any delicacy, pinching my nipple between thumb and forefinger until a moan slipped out of me and I tried to swallow it.

“If I’m dead,” he slurred, “then I’m enjoying heaven with this little angel. What an ass God sent me.”

And the worst part was that with the heat I was carrying from the gym, I started to like it. Just like a while before, but now I was completely naked, giving myself up to a man who didn’t even know where he was. I struggled less and less. Without realizing it, I started rubbing my wet cunt against the rough thigh of his pants, leaving a damp mark on the fabric, moving my hips like a bitch in heat. I felt his cock harden under his pants, a stiff bulge that touched my belly every time I pressed myself against him. My temperature kept rising. I bit his shoulder over his filthy shirt and hated myself a little for how much I was enjoying it.

Suddenly he loosened his arm and I was able to pull away. I was panting, my nipples erect, my cunt dripping down my thighs. I was much hornier than I wanted to admit.

“Genaro,” I said, catching my breath, “this little angel is going to take you home, so behave, okay?”

He wasn’t looking at me. He went quiet, staring at the ground, so still I thought he’d passed out again. And then a voice cut through the night from one of the windows.

“Hey! What are you doing there? Get out of here or I’ll call the police!”

***

The scare jolted me. I grabbed my bag and quickly put on a T-shirt and a skirt, but I didn’t get to put on underwear. I went over to Genaro, who was still motionless, slipped his left arm around my neck, and took his weight. I held him up as best I could and started walking before that voice made good on the threat.

Anyway, he lived only a few blocks away. The plan was simple: leave him at his front door and go back home. That’s what I thought, at least. We moved along a couple of side streets until we reached a busier avenue. There Genaro started moving again. I took his arm down from my neck and held him from the front.

“Genaro, relax, I’m taking you home.”

He looked at me, not understanding anything, not knowing who I was or how I’d gotten there, but he nodded.

“We’re going to cross a big avenue, so we have to stay really close,” I told him.

I waited for the cars to stop and we started crossing. In the middle of the street, Genaro slid his hand down my back and onto my ass. I stopped for a second on reflex, but I had to keep going. The cars started honking and a man shouted at me from his window.

“Miss, what gorgeous ass you’ve got, baby! I want that ass all to myself!”

I reached a hand behind me and discovered my ass was bare. Genaro had lifted my skirt without me noticing. I couldn’t let go of him to fix my clothes in the middle of the street, so I kept walking like that, exposed, with the headlights lighting up my naked cheeks and my swollen cunt peeking out between my thighs. I felt a drop of my own wetness slide down the inside of my thigh as I crossed, and my face burned. I put Genaro’s hand where it belonged on my ass so he’d have better support, and he, half drunk and half aware, dug his thick fingers into my flesh and squeezed hard, spreading my cheeks a little. I’m sure more than one driver saw my asshole as they passed. I picked up the pace.

We got across. We went a few more blocks, but I was already exhausted from carrying him. On a dark street I found a homemade bench, the kind some neighbor puts together with planks. I sat Genaro down and collapsed beside him to rest. It was almost midnight. We were close to home.

The problem was that I was still horny. Worse with every minute. The fact that I’d crossed half an avenue with my ass out, everyone looking at my ass and probably my cunt, had turned me on in a way I couldn’t shut off. My outer lips felt so swollen they bothered me when I sat, and my clit was throbbing on its own, without anyone touching it. I looked around: the street was completely empty, not a single light on, not a soul. I looked at Genaro, who was mumbling broken words and still had a noticeable bulge in his pants.

“Genaro,” I whispered, leaning closer, “the little angel is almost taking you home. Listen to her a little longer.”

He looked at me and, without saying anything, put his left hand on my bare leg. I shivered. He slid it up the skin on the inside of my thigh, slowly, very slowly for how drunk he was, as if he knew exactly where he was going. His rough fingers reached my slit and found the warm wetness that had been dripping from me for a while.

“Look at how you are, little angel,” he murmured in a thick voice. “You’re all wet.”

I braced myself on my hands to move just a little away from the bench and let him go higher with his hand. One thick finger parted my lips and touched my swollen clit. I let out a moan that escaped without permission. Then he shoved his middle finger inside me, all the way, knuckle-deep. My cunt clenched around it, wet, noisy, and I bit my lip to keep from screaming. I didn’t know what to do. Part of me wanted to help him get home; the other didn’t want him to ever pull that filthy finger out of my cunt.

***

Behind the bench there was a ditch running the length of the street, a little more than three feet deep. I only looked at it for a second. I was like a crazy woman, I didn’t care whether I ended up in the bed of an expensive hotel with an elegant man or in a dirty ditch with a neighborhood drunk. I only wanted to be fucked. I only wanted a cock inside me, any cock at all, and to come until I saw stars.

“Genaro, the little angel needs you right now,” I said, my voice trembling. “I need you to fuck me.”

I took his hands, got him to his feet, and led him down with me, slowly. Once inside the ditch I let him lie back on the ground. He was wearing an old raincoat that smelled horrible, so I took it off him and threw it aside. I lay down beside him and put his hands on my tits. He started groping them without control, squeezing hard, twisting my nipples between his rough fingers until I arched with pleasure. He moved down to my waist, to my ass. I wriggled, moaning softly against his shoulder, rubbing my thigh against the hard bulge in his pants.

The ground was cold and hard, with little stones digging into my back. But what heated me most wasn’t his hands: it was the situation. I was in a ditch, outdoors, letting a drunken stranger paw me, with my cunt soaked and my tits out, while anyone could walk by overhead and find us. I took off my T-shirt and skirt and was naked again, sneakers still on, completely surrendered.

I pulled down his zipper without waiting any longer and shoved my hand inside. I found his cock hard, thicker than I’d imagined, hot and pulsing amid the rough bush of hair. I pulled it out into the open and stared at it for a second. It was ugly, with the wrinkled skin of the foreskin half pulled back, but it was hard as a rock and that was all I needed. I grabbed it with both hands and started jerking him hard, sliding the skin up and down, while I leaned in and ran my tongue over the tip.

It tasted like sweat and something sour, but I took the whole thing into my mouth anyway. I sucked it like my life depended on it, my throat open, squeezing my cheeks so he could feel everything. Genaro let out an animal growl and dug his hand into the back of my neck, pushing me down. I sucked him to the hilt, until I felt the tip hit the roof of my mouth, while with my other hand I pinched my own clit, getting wetter and wetter.

“What a filthy little angel,” he slurred. “Suck, suck that cock real good.”

Genaro couldn’t do much more, too drunk to do the work for me. So I took the reins. I laid him back flat, with his cock pointing at the sky, and climbed on top. I lined the tip up with the soaking entrance of my cunt and dropped down hard, spearing myself all the way. I screamed. I felt myself open completely, felt him scraping my walls, filling me in a way I hadn’t felt in months. I stayed still for a second, breathing hard, letting my cunt adjust to the width, feeling every pulse of that cock inside me.

Then I started moving. Slowly at first, up and down on him, feeling the cock slide in and out of me with a wet, obscene sound that bounced off the walls of the ditch. I took my hands to my tits and squeezed them myself, twisting my nipples. Genaro had his eyes half-closed and his hands loose on my hips, letting me do whatever I wanted.

I picked up the pace. I started bouncing faster, harder, feeling my ass smack against his thighs with a slap of skin on skin. My cunt was making noise, a wet slapping sound that could be heard all over the street. I was riding a drunk man lying in a ditch like a bitch in heat, and I loved it. I worked my clit with two fingers, circling fast, feeling the orgasm gather in my belly like a ball of heat.

And right then I heard voices approaching down the street. I tried to keep quiet, but my body wasn’t obeying me. Without stopping fucking him, without stopping moving on Genaro’s cock, I stretched out an arm, grabbed the filthy raincoat, and threw it over my back, leaving my ass and legs completely exposed, still riding him beneath the fabric.

The footsteps passed beside us. My cunt squeezed his cock harder and harder, involuntarily, and I felt the climax hit me like a wave. I moaned without hiding it, trembling all over him, clutching his clothes with both hands as I came in streams, soaking his balls and pants, feeling the liquid run down my thighs. I didn’t care about anything.

“Are those two fucking?” said a voice.

“It’s the little drunk guy as always. Looks like he found himself some company,” another answered, amused.

“Look at the little ass he’s getting,” a third laughed. “Leave them, they’re doing their thing.”

The footsteps moved away and I kept moving on him, now in slow motion, stretching the orgasm out to the very last tremor. Genaro started moaning harder under me, digging his fingers into my hips, and I knew he was about to come. I quickly climbed off him, grabbed his cock with both hands, and shoved it back into my mouth just in time. His cum filled my throat all at once, warm and thick, shot after shot. I swallowed as much as I could, and what escaped ran down my chin to my chest.

***

I stayed like that for a while, with his limp cock in my mouth, sucking the last drops, feeling it dissolve on my tongue. When I finally let it go, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and touched Genaro’s face. He was still gone, lost in his drunkenness, not fully aware of what had just happened.

I felt a little guilty for having used him like that, like a toy, like a flesh dildo. But at that moment I hadn’t been able to resist. I stayed a few minutes resting on him, catching my breath, with my cunt still throbbing and his cum drying on my chest, looking up at the sky between the edges of the ditch.

When I felt better, I found my clothes and got dressed, feeling the semen left in my cunt start to leak out under my skirt. I pulled Genaro out of the ditch with a fair bit of effort, tucked his limp cock back into his pants, zipped him up, slipped his arm around my neck again, and we kept going. I passed by my own house without going in, because I still had to leave him at his place. We got to his gate, which was slightly open, and I propped him against the front door. Then I left quickly, before it got any later.

Back home, I got into the shower and let the hot water pour over me while I relived the whole night: the gym guy’s fingers going into my cunt, the shortcut, the tree, Genaro’s cock splitting me open in the ditch. I watched the thick semen run down between my legs and disappear down the drain. I felt wild, alive, a little ashamed, and deeply satisfied. I closed my eyes, leaned my back against the tiles, and shoved three fingers into my cunt while with my other hand I punished my clit. I came again, biting my arm so I wouldn’t scream, imagining it was Genaro fucking me against the shower wall again, before going to sleep with my legs still trembling.