Author's note: I am an Irish woman in my forties, and I write (in UK English) from that perspective. I welcome your feedback and suggestions.
My sincere thanks to my special friend. I hope I didn't get you into trouble.
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NOTE TO THE READER: This is a story about reluctance, rather than non-consent, though it could easily be interrupted as non consent/ rape. In real life, No means No. Also, the lack of condoms in this story is poetic license, but definitely not one to ignore in real life.
When picturing this scenario please note that a bus driver is on the right in Ireland!
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"Oh GOD, I'm horny," I thought as I closed my laptop. I had woken at 4.30am and couldn't get back to sleep. I thought a little masterbation might help, so I turned on the laptop to look at some porn. It just made me worse. I was reminded of an old joke: What's the difference between light and hard...you can sleep with the light on but not with a hard on.
I looked at the clock, it was 6.40am now. I didn't have to get up until 7.30. Glancing at my husband, sound asleep and snoring loudly, the idea of waking him for sex seemed a bit cruel. Maybe a good run would burn off my desire.
I hauled my ass out of bed and pulled on my running gear. It had actually been a good ten days since I went for a run. Realistically, at forty two years of age, I don't exactly run. It is more of a high impact walk, but I can get 5km done in about forty minutes. There are no records being broken, but it is enough to keep me in reasonable shape. I chose not to wear panties, as the running tights would be going straight into the wash afterwards anyway. BIG MISTAKE!!
As I started my run I noticed that the seam on my running tights started to rub me in the most delicious way. My clit was still protruding from my earlier arousal, so as I ran the seam on the tights just rubbed away at it. I tried to concentrate on the music on my headphones, but my mind kept wandering to various sexual fantasies. I think I was even running faster than usual, just to enhance the rub! Nice as it was, there was no way it would actually get me off.
As the meters ticked past, my mind wandered to Dan. A couple of weeks ago, my two girlfriends and I were on a night out when the local football team came into the pub. Evidently they had won a match and were celebrating. My two girlfriends and I are all married and older than the footballers. At a guess, the oldest footballer was about thirty five, but most were in their late twenties. Us 40-something "girls" just admired the view, but didn't interact with the guys. At the end of the night, when the pub closed we all congregated on the street.
I don't know why, but Irish tend to loiter at the doors of a pub after closing! So there we were, three middle aged women surrounded by twenty-something/ thirty-something fit guys. For obvious reasons, we were all a little reluctant to go straight home! The chatting turned to banter and began to include the footballers. One guy, Dan, cornered me in a nearby doorway. His hands were either side of my head, blocking me in. He asked me for a kiss, but I refused and let him know I was married. As I looked into his handsome face, my hands were on his chest, pushing him away. I wasn't exactly trapped, as I could duck under his arms. The feeling of his rock hard muscular chest was keeping me there though. Oh my God, he was like a wall of muscle. YUMMY!! The whole experience only lasted a few moments, as my friends came to the "rescue" and we left.
Now, as I jogged along the rural roads, I was fantasizing about what I would have liked to have done with that footballer.
My running route took me through my small town and out to a rural narrow road, past the soccer pitch. There was seldom any traffic on this road, which is why I liked to run on it. It began to rain heavily as I got as far as the soccer pitch. I was only about half way through my route, and soaked through. As it is Ireland, I was used to running in the rain, but I cannot say that I liked it. Despite my exertions, I was starting to get cold as the rain was seeping through my light running jacket.
A small Toyota mini bus went past me and surprised me by stopping. The side door slid opened and who should stick his head out? Dan! His handsome face had a big cheeky grin as he looked back at me. I popped out my headphones so that I could hear him.
"Get into the bus, ya mad thing," he grinned a friendly order. "You are soaking wet. We will give you a lift home."
I chuckled to myself at his choice of words. I was definitely soaking wet, and not just on the outside! Seeing him now didn't improve matters.
"It's okay," I answered. "I am on a run, so I will get myself home."
I noticed the minibus had 4 or 5 guys inside. I recognised some of them from that night in the pub. I was breathless from the run so I rested my hand on the side of the bus. Dan grabbed my wrist and yanked me into the warm dry bus.
"HEY!" I protested as Dan pulled me down on the seat beside him.
"Look, you are freezing cold and soaking wet." Dan said. "I have a towel in my kit bag."
He went rummaging for it as someone closed the door and the bus pulled off.
"Are you guys training at this hour of the morning?" I asked.
"Yeah, we do cardio three mornings a week together" said the guy behind Dan. "It's just too wet this morning, so we called it off."
"Here's the towel," said Dan. "Take off that jacket, it's making the whole seat wet," he said as he pulled on my zip.
"Hang on there," I said, grabbing his hand to stop him opening my jacket.
I had just a white cropped top run bra underneath and I wasn't going to just strip off infront of all these guys.
"Don't be such an idiot," he said. "You will get your death of cold if you stay in that jacket. Not to mention that the towel will be useless."