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Bird and the Blonde
Bird was hungry and his feet hurt. His feet always hurt on Saturdays and Sundays, when he worked the register at the local big-box store. He hated the job, hated that he never had time to just hang out all weekend like his friends at college, hated that he needed even the pitiful income that he made there just to stay in school. But he especially hated standing all day on his size-thirteen feet (which, along with his pathetically skinny legs and somewhat beaky nose, had earned him his nickname).
At least it was almost time for lunch. Bird was starving, although not particularly looking forward to eating his same old bag lunch in the employee room. He’d be sitting down, anyway. He pushed his glasses back up his nose for the umpteenth time, glanced at his watch and reached for the Register Closed sign…
…Just as a customer showed up. Typical. Bird sighed to himself and began scanning the items through, mumbling the required question, “Did you find everything you wanted?” without even glancing up.
It was the strange, hesitant reply, “I…I… think so,” spoken in a breathless sort of whisper, that caught his attention. His gaze rose from the counter and he saw, first a pair of really nice legs, then a short, flouncy white skirt encasing a slightly wide pair of hips. Above that an emerald-green blouse with at least one too many buttons undone, displaying more cleavage than Bird had ever seen at such close range, and finally, a face that under normal circumstances he would have found quite attractive – sweet and intelligent-looking, framed with stylishly-arranged blonde hair.
But her expression threw him off: She was biting her lower lip as if concentrating very hard on something. She was looking at him, but her eyes seemed unfocused and she was gripping the edge of the counter with both hands as if for support. He wondered if she was high or maybe drunk. Nooo, neither of those, he thought, but there was definitely something weird about her.
But it wasn’t his problem, much as he enjoyed looking at her. He returned his attention to her purchases, finished ringing them up and gave her the total while she fumbled for her card and swiped it through the reader. He was just bagging everything up when she spoke again.
“I… really like this store.” Bird looked up at her. She was talking to him, but…not. She went on. “It has really good v-vibrations.”
What? This was definitely getting weird. And now she was blushing! As if she didn’t want to say what she was saying, but had to for some reason. It seemed as though she was waiting for a reply, so Bird stammered out, “That’s, uh… That’s nice. Glad you like it,” as he handed her the receipt.
Blushing even more deeply she suddenly leaned forward and said, “ Do you hear some kind of humming sound?” She stared into his eyes as if his answer was extremely important. She was biting her lower lip even harder than before.
Okay, this was nuts. Bird wanted this woman to go away and then he wanted to go eat his lunch. He started to shake his head and say something like, no, sorry, but thanks for shopping here. But then he heard it: a low buzzing sound, kind of like his electric shaver.
He swiveled his head slowly, narrowing his eyes as he tried to pinpoint the source. And found himself staring directly at the front of her skirt. Whoa. His gaze snapped up to meet hers. “Um… Y-yes, I do hear a humming sound, now that you mention it.”
Her eyes widened and she seemed to be trying to control her breathing. Her blush deepened, if that was possible. She made no reply, but continued staring into Bird’s eyes. She seemed to be waiting – against her will, it seemed to Bird – for him to say something else.
He was at a loss. What did she want him to say? The source of her agitation was obvious now, but did she really want him to…? What if he was wrong? She would be horribly offended and probably get him fired. But she was still there, waiting. She looked ready to stand there all day if need be – if she didn’t collapse. So, shrugging inwardly and bracing himself, Bird leaned towards her and said, practically under his breath, “Are you wearing a, um… a vibrator?”
Her eyes closed and for a moment Bird thought she was going to faint. But then she opened them again, gave him a big, forced-looking smile and said, softly but distinctly, “Yes, I’m wearing a vibrator. Thank you.”
Then, glassy-eyed and still blushing, she picked up the bag with her purchases and walked away, seeming to wobble slightly on her high heels as she made her way towards the exit. Bird watched her, stunned, for a moment. Then he slapped the Register Closed sign onto the counter and followed her out of the store.
It wasn’t hard to trail her, even with the lunchtime crowds surging through the mall. The emerald green of her blouse made her stand out, of course, but not nearly as much as her hesitant, slightly unsteady walk, half the speed of everyone around her. In fact at one point Bird saw her stop dead in her tracks and stand with her knees pressed tightly together, as if she badly needed to pee. He couldn’t see her face, of course, but he could imagine the expression on it, and he certainly understood the cause of her distress.
He continued to follow her out of the mall and across the parking lot. When she reached her car she already had her keys in her hand. She unlocked the door and tossed the bag with her purchases into the back seat, followed by her purse. She then practically jumped into the driver’s seat and slammed the door behind her. Bird waited, expecting her to fire up the engine and peel out of the parking lot.
But nothing happened – the car continued to sit there with the windows rolled up, even though it was a warm spring day. Bird watched, puzzled. Then the thought struck him. No, she couldn’t be… Not right there in the parking lot, no way! He had to see.
He walked closer to the car, trying to look casual, as if he were just looking for his own car. Walked right past her car from behind, looking out of the corner of his eyes, trying desperately to see what was happening without being obvious. Nothing. She just seemed to be sitting there, as nearly as he could tell. He stopped, turned around, and walked back towards her.
Glancing around to make sure no one was looking at him, Bird began edging along the passenger side of her car, one tiny step at a time, staring at the back of her head through the window and ready to pretend he was just making his way between cars. He stopped just out of her sight – he hoped. Then he slowly began to lean down.
He could see her face in profile easily enough. Her head was slightly tilted back, her eyes closed and her mouth slightly open. To Bird her right breast looked a little strange, sort of lumpy, beneath the fabric of her blouse. Holding his breath and leaning just a little further forward he saw why: her left hand was inside her blouse, cupping her breast.
Oh, man. As he watched, Bird felt his cock beginning to stiffen. Unfortunately it was pointing in the wrong direction and began to bend painfully against the front of his jeans so that he had to reach down and make a quick adjustment. Then he realized: if her left hand was there, then her right hand must be… He didn’t dare move any further forward but if he leaned over even a little more he’d fall on his face – he was already up on his toes, which were beginning to feel the strain.
There was only one solution. Moving as slowly as he possibly could, Bird extended his left arm and placed just the edge of his hand on her car door, on the tiny ledge at the bottom of the window. Little by little, he allowed more of his weight to rest there until he could lower his heels to the asphalt again. Whew. Now to lean just a little further forward…
Omigod, yes. Her legs were slightly parted and her right hand was under her skirt. Not rubbing, exactly, just pressing there firmly. Maybe moving up and down a tiny bit, but Bird couldn’t tell for sure and at that moment he couldn’t care less. This was amazing!
He stared at her, this pretty young woman lost in her own pleasure, unknowingly putting on a show just for him. God, he was getting so freaking hard! He felt his free hand drift, seemingly of its own accord, to the front of his pants and press against his erection…
…Just as his other hand, now slick with perspiration, suddenly slipped and slid forward across the car door with a loud squeak, almost as if someone were using a squeegee on the window. Bird stumbled and nearly fell over his own feet, but managed to turn, fling out his right hand and, sprawling slightly, catch himself on the side of the car.
Which brought his face right up to the window and gave him a fine view of the woman inside the car, who was now pressed back against the driver’s side door, hand over her mouth, staring at him in horror. Bird froze, waiting for her to scream, then whip out her phone and punch 911. He imagined himself calling his parents from the police station and explaining how he got there. He was doomed.
The woman seemed as unnerved as he was. She simply sat there, frozen, for a long moment. Then she seemed to recognize him, and slowly relaxed. Her expression changed from shock to anger…and then softened to the somewhat dazed anxiety she had displayed in the store. She eased back into her seat, and Bird thought, with more than a little relief, that she was just going to start her car and drive away. Instead, to his astonishment, she leaned over, unlatched the door on Bird’s side and gave it a little push so that it opened slightly. Then she returned to her original position.
She wanted him to get in? Bird was stupefied. Why would she want that? The only reason he could think of was that she wanted to yell at him in the privacy of her car – and then call the cops. Gingerly, as if he were afraid that that it might fall off if he pulled too hard, Bird eased the door open the rest of the way, slipped into the passenger seat and pulled the door closed behind him. He tried to do it gently but it still shut with what sounded to him like an ominous thud.
The car was a beat-up old Grand Marquis with a bench seat in the front, so there was nothing between Bird and the woman but space…and not nearly enough of it, as far as he was concerned. He sat with his hands clasped on his lap and his head down, not daring to look at her, waiting for the barrage to begin. The silence stretched out. Nothing. What was she waiting for? Summoning his courage, he sneaked a sideways look…
…And saw that she was sitting in the exact same humble posture as he was, as if waiting for him to speak. What the hell was going on? Bird decided that he’d better say something; offer an apology, beg her forgiveness, plead for mercy – anything to break the silence. He took a deep breath and turned towards her.
“I’m, uh…really s-“
“I suppose you took lots of nasty pictures of me with your cell-phone just now,” she said softly, still looking down at her lap.
What? Bird was struck dumb. Just what part of the Twilight Zone had he wandered into? “N-n…”
“And you’re going to post them all over the internet if I don’t do what you want.”
What made things even weirder is that she wasn’t even talking to him – she seemed to be addressing these statements to herself, just as she had in the store. Bird decided to sit out the rest of this conversation.
“I guess it’s what I deserve for being such a dirty girl and wearing my vibrator into the store. You want to see it, I suppose.”
And with that she reached under her skirt with both hands. Bird caught a glimpse of violet silk as she slipped a hand down inside her panties. There was a wet, sucking kind of sound and when she removed her hands from beneath her skirt one was holding a silver egg-shaped vibrator, slick with her juices, its humming much more pronounced now that it was out in the open. The other hand was holding the remote control, which Bird assumed she’d had tucked into the waistband of her panties. She held them up for him to look at, blushing deeply, her blue eyes, somewhat crazed, meeting his for an instant then flicking away again.
Bird couldn’t have spoken at this point if he’d wanted to. In the store he’d thought she might be stoned; now he was beginning to wonder if he was.
She appeared to be waiting again for him to speak. Then after another long moment she looked down and spoke to herself as before. “I hope you’re not going to make me use this on myself while you watch.”
Another long pause.
“I wish you’d at least let me keep my skirt on.”
Then, placing the vibrator and control on the seat between them, she reached behind her back with both hands and unfastened and unzipped her skirt, raised her hips and quickly slid her skirt down to her ankles. Lifting her feet, she reached down and grabbed her skirt before turning to him and placing it tenderly on his lap, as if giving it to him, before returning to her original position.
Silence.
Then: “Oh, all right! I guess I don’t have any choice.” Still not looking at him, she reached up and quickly unfastened the rest of the buttons on her blouse, then pulled it open and tugged it so it slid off her shoulders. Then she turned towards him again, holding her blouse open and arching her back slightly so that her breasts in their violet silk brassiere were prominently displayed. After a moment she let go of her blouse and let it slide down her arms to the seat behind her.
Her eyes were still downcast as she spoke. “There, I’ve stripped to my bra and panties for you. Isn’t that enough?”
Even in his semi-paralyzed state Bird couldn’t help noticing that despite her avowed reluctance her nipples were quite visibly erect beneath the violet silk and that her breathing had again become ragged. As had his own, for that matter. By now he’d realized that he was just a spectator at the acting out of a very personal fantasy but at the moment he had no objection to that whatsoever.
Meanwhile she was continuing on as if he’d actually replied: “Okay, okay, I’m doing it!”
She picked up the egg and, to Bird’s astonishment, handed him the remote control. Then she turned so that her back was against the door again and lifted her right leg, bending it so that she could rest it on the seat between them – giving Bird a clear view between her legs. There was a sizable wet spot in the crotch of her panties already, and that was where she placed the still-humming vibrator.
She let out a small gasp as it made contact. Her eyes widened and she quickly looked in all directions to make sure no one was near the car – as did Bird. Then as she pressed the egg more firmly between her legs she let out a long, sighing breath and her eyelids slowly lowered.
Bird watched as she stroked the humming silver egg up and down the crotch of her panties. Her eyes were closed to near-slits, the lids trembling slightly. After a moment she began another one-sided conversation, her voice barely audible:
“Oh, please don’t make me do this. Please don’t…mmmm…humiliate me like this. Let me go… It’s so horrible…mmmm… Ohhh, god, I’m in my…bra and panties in a public parking lot and you’re – ahh! – m-making me…mmmmaa-masss-turbate! Ooo, right…in…front of you! Ssssssooo…nnnh! Sssso degrading… So! Hu…mmmiliating! Oh!”
If he hadn’t been so freaked out by all of this Bird was sure he would have come in his pants by now. The previous pinnacle of his sexual history had been a fumbling (and incomplete) bathroom hand-job at a party from a girl who was so drunk that she’d probably thought he was someone else. And now here he was sitting in a car – in the mall parking lot, in broad daylight! – with a crazy blonde woman in her underwear pretending that he was somehow blackmailing her into performing for him. He was positive that any second now she would suddenly remember he was actually there and not just fantasy, open her eyes and scream at him to get out of the car, or worse.
Instead, she began to moan and continued to stroke herself as she went on with her imaginary conversation: “Ohhhh…yessss, it’s my fault…all my fault…yessss, b-bad girl, wearing it in the store…yessss, I deserve this…I deserve….what? Oh, no…please, no, please don’t…sss-spank me! Nooooooo….”
And as she spoke she was turning in her seat, getting on all fours with her back to him, then reaching back and clamping the vibrator firmly between her legs before putting her head down on her arms. Her voice became a muffled muttering: “….Noooo…please, not here…so ashamed…please don’t…”
Her behind, now just inches away from where Bird was sitting, seemed to be quivering with anticipation, or maybe it was just the effect of the vibrator. Bird was now in full panic mode. Was she asking him to spank her by begging him not to? That certainly seemed to be the case, judging by her position. But what if he was wrong? So far she had been creating everything in her own imagination; maybe she was going to give herself an imaginary spanking and he was just supposed to continue watching.
So tempting, though… It had always been one of his fantasies to have a girl over his lap with her skirt up, and this situation was way beyond that. He turned towards the silk-covered behind being held so invitingly in the air, the wet spot in the crotch of her panties now practically dripping where the vibrator was being held in place. He raised his right hand, started to swing…
…And caught himself. This was crossing a line. If he actually touched her… If it wasn’t what she wanted… She’d asked him not to spank her, but…
At this point she raised her head and began to whimper, “That’s so mean. I know you’re going to s-spank me, so just get it over with instead of playing with me like this, making me wait. Go on. I can’t stand it, go on!” Then she put her head down again.
That was enough for Bird. He lifted her skirt off his lap, roughly folded it and tossed it onto the back seat. Then, taking a deep breath and looking around once more to be sure there was no one close by, he raised his hand again and this time let it fly. It landed on the right cheek of her behind with a smack that sounded really loud to Bird, even though the blow had been somewhat tentative. The effect on the blonde woman, however, was instantaneous: she hissed through her teeth, arched her back and began waving her behind back and forth as though trying to cool it off, which Bird found intensely arousing.
The windows were still rolled up; they were both perspiring freely in the heated confines of the car, and the air was permeated with the smell of her arousal. Bird wanted to spank her again immediately, but was still hesitant. Was one swat all she wanted? As if hearing his thoughts, the woman raised her head slightly and continued her inner dialogue in a kind of moan: “Yessss…wh-what I deserve…my own fault… Ohhhh, noooo, not ten, please nooo….not tennnn….noooooooo…” She trailed off into a kind of choked sob.
Which was jerked into a loud gasp as Bird landed his second blow, this one much harder and self-assured than the first. He allowed her to wave her behind back and forth, mostly because he really liked it, before giving her a third…and then a fourth…and then a fifth. Each time, she gasped, hissed through her teeth and moaned, but otherwise said nothing more and held her position, so Bird figured she was getting what she wanted – especially since the entire crotch of her panties was now soaking wet.
He was really getting into this. He gave her the sixth and seventh swats backhanded, being unable to reach her left cheek any other way. Then, delirious with power, he actually reached out with his free hand and tugged on the waistband of her panties, pulling them up so that the fabric slid between her cheeks, leaving them exposed. She shivered and moaned but made no comment, so Bird, even more turned on by the sight of his red hand-marks on her behind, resolved to make the last three the best.
And they might have been – the first of the three certainly landed with a satisfying smack on her bare right cheek, leaving a white imprint of his hand on the reddened skin. However, Bird had forgotten that his other hand, the one pulling up on her panties, was the one holding the remote control for the vibrator. He must have accidentally pushed a button when he landed that eighth slap because the sound of the vibrator suddenly doubled in volume and the blonde woman let out a huge gasp.
Her head snapped up as she began rocking back and forth, her back arched. She began making grunting noises in rhythm with her movement, “Uh!…Uh!…Uh!…” Bird had been so startled that he’d dropped the control, which was now firmly wedged between the woman’s knees. He had no idea whether he should attempt to retrieve it or not.
Then he realized that the blonde woman had begun speaking again: “…Uh!… No!… Uh!… Won’t…do that!… Unnh!… Don’t care…uh!…what you do! Unh!… No…no! I won’t! Ohhhhhh…god!… Oh!… Oh!… Please! Don’t…make me!… Ohhhhhhh…”
And to Bird’s astonishment she suddenly reached between her legs, yanked the crotch of her panties aside and shoved the vibrating egg into her pussy, making a high-pitched squeal as she did so. Then she sat up, swiveled awkwardly on her knees and bent down again. But this time instead of getting back on all fours she began tearing frantically at Bird’s belt buckle…and then his zipper, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open as she panted out loud.
Bird was too stunned to even cooperate as she yanked his pants and underwear down past his hips. But when she swooped down and took his aching cock into her mouth, his own mouth fell open and he had to reach up with one hand to keep the drool from spilling down his chin. She was giving him a blowjob! He gripped the edge of the seat with both hands, determined not to move, speak or do anything that might possibly distract her.
Not that that seemed likely, or even possible, short of physically shoving her away. She seemed to be helplessly responding to the new rhythm of the vibrator inside her, bobbing her head frantically up and down on his cock, slurping and licking and moaning in turn. For Bird the experience was so intense that it was nearly painful. In his fantasies he’d always imagined a blowjob as something slow and sensual, even kind of romantic. But this was a full-on assault.
Not that he was complaining, of course; he wished it would go on forever. Unfortunately, between the excitement of everything that had already happened and the relentless action of her hot mouth and tongue on him, Bird was all too aware that he wasn’t going to be able to hold back for long. He could already feel the stirring in his scrotum that meant he would be coming at any moment. He wondered if he should say something to warn her. It seemed as though it would be the polite thing to do.
He might have actually managed to gasp out something if she hadn’t started to climax herself, her moans becoming a continuous muffled shriek, the motion of her head becoming piston-like, as if she were determined to make him come first.
It was a tie, as it turned out, and Bird’s drawn-out “AHHHHHHH!” made a dissonant harmony with her “EEEEEEEEEEEEE!” as he spurted into her mouth. She somehow managed to continue sucking on him until he had mostly finished, then threw herself backwards into the seat next to him, legs splayed, hips jerking spasmodically, head thrown back as she gasped through the conclusion of her own orgasm. She shoved a hand into her panties, jerked the vibrating egg out by its cord and flung it onto the seat between them. As soon as he was able to move, Bird fumbled for the control and switched it off.
There was silence, except for the sound of settling breath, for a long time. Bird re-adjusted his glasses, and then rolled his window down partway, reveling in the taste and smell of fresh air after the sweat and sex-soaked atmosphere of the car. A moment later she did the same. They both looked around to make sure they hadn’t been observed, then unthinkingly settled into the same positions they had taken when Bird had first gotten into the car: hands clasped on their laps, heads down, not looking at each other.
After a long while the blonde woman asked softly, “May I please get dressed now?” Bird didn’t bother to answer, knowing that the question wasn’t really being addressed to him. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she grabbed and unfolded her skirt, bent down and tugged it back up over her hips, reaching behind her back to fasten it, then slipped back into her blouse and buttoned it and tucked it in. Bird pulled his pants back up and fastened them as well.
There was another long silence. Bird was wondering if he should say ‘Thank you’ – or at least ask for her name – or if he should just get out of the car and go. Judging by her seeming indifference to his presence he decided on the latter. He reached for the door handle…
“I suppose you’re going to make me give you these,” she said in her usual trance-like voice, raising her hips as she hooked her thumbs into the elastic of her panties and slid them down her legs. She reached down to retrieve them, then, still not looking at him, held them out, dangling from her thumb and forefinger. Bird hesitantly reached out and took them from her. They were soaked, and redolent with the smell of her sex and perspiration.
She continued, “And I have to come back and ask you for them…right? Right there in the store? Wearing my vibrator again?” Bird waited, and sure enough she continued, “All right… I guess I have to do whatever you want – it’s my own fault. May I please leave now?” She fumbled for her purse and began rummaging for her keys, not realizing they were already in the ignition.
Still dazed, Bird opened the door and stepped out onto the asphalt.
“Wait.”
He turned and bent down to look back into the car. She was still sitting exactly as he’d left her. But suddenly she turned, leaned forward and actually looked into his eyes for the first time since he’d gotten into the car. She gave him a little smile…then kissed him quickly on the mouth before settling back into her seat and starting the car.
Bird straightened up and closed the door. He stood there staring after her as she drove out of the parking lot and onto the highway. It wasn’t until he heard a muffled giggle behind him that Bird realized he still had her wet panties dangling from his hand. He started to bunch them up, then changed his mind and folded them neatly into a small, fragrant packet before slipping them into his pocket.
After all, she was going to be coming back for them someday.
Bird turned and headed back towards the store. He started to whistle as he walked along, then suddenly noticed: his feet didn’t hurt at all.