They call it parkour. Apparently the idea is to get from point A to point B in the fastest possible manner, without using any equipment. As far as I was concerned it also meant getting from point A to point B in the most dangerous manner possible. Still, I wasn't doing it and the people who were, were considered to be functional adults, so good luck to them.
I did have one minor gripe about some of the runners who did this stuff. My place abutted a park that they cut across, which meant that a number of players would also go over my fence and across my yard on the way to their next challenge. There was no way that my fences were considered a challenge as the players could just fly over them without even slowing down.
All bar one, it turned out. I was sitting on my back veranda one evening, enjoying a beer in the twilight, when these parkour idiots came flying over my fence and across my yard or, I should say in one specific case, nearly came flying over my fence. It seems to me that if you're doing a lot of running, and jumping, and climbing, and shit like that you'd dress for running, and jumping, etcetera. To me that meant trousers of some kind, not a dress, which would tend to leave your nether regions exposed in some situations.
Such a situation had just arisen for the young lady who came over the fence, with her dress snagging on something on top of the fence. A good quality dress it was, too, as it didn't tear. A pretty decent fence, as well, as it didn't break. The upshot was that the young lass was left hooked on the fence, her dress dragged up under her armpits, holding her quite comfortably as she dangled there.
I suppose if one of the others had paused to assist she'd have been fine, but they didn't. It is a competitive sport. Alternatively, if she'd been left to herself she might have managed to wriggle out of the dress and drop to the ground, whereupon said dress would have been unsnagged and put back on. Unfortunately she wasn't left to herself. I was there.
I strolled over to say hullo, admiring the long legs and shapely hips that were on display, nicely covered by a pair of lacy panties, panties that some might have considered to be on the skimpy side. I didn't consider them so but I suspect that the owner did.
"Good evening," I said jovially. "Somewhat rotten luck, don't you know? Another couple of inches and your feet would have been on the ground. It's surprising what a difference a couple of inches makes."
"Very funny," she griped. "Would you please help me get down?"
"Why? You got yourself up there. I'm more inclined to just leave you dangling while I call the police to come and remove a suspicious trespasser. I mean, you don't have a valid legal reason to be dangling from my fence do you?"
"The police? You wouldn't." She sounded quite shocked.
"Why not? You idiots tend to ruin my gardens when you trample across them. I'm looking at getting a dog to chase you idiots away. I'm really rather tired of your impolite antics."
"That wasn't me. This is my first time out. I've never done this before."
I could almost hear the mental 'and never again if I can help it' in the tone of her voice.
"I wouldn't worry too much. The cops would only give you a talking to and take you home and grumble to your parents. Your parents might ground you for a while. Pity you weren't grounded tonight, isn't it?"
I glanced at the ground just below her dangling feet with a smile. She glared at me, apparently not finding me amusing.
"I don't live with my parents," she snapped. "I moved out when I turned eighteen."
"In which case the police would just growl a bit and kick you out of the station, after having an amusing time writing up the incident."
"Will you please stop ogling my legs and help me down?" she demanded, sounding a little frustrated.
"First things first. I'm David, and you are???"
"Michelle."
"Right, Michelle. Now as I was saying, first things first and I like looking at your legs. They're very attractive. I'd like to see more of them."
"There isn't any more that you could see, damn you."
Yes, definitely on the frustrated side of things.
"Sure there is. Let me demonstrate," I told her.
I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her panties and drew them down, not stopping until I'd pulled them over her shoes and off.
I waited until she stopped swearing, moving closer at the same time. The reason I moved closer was because Michelle was trying to kick me for some reason and I thought she'd find it a lot harder if I was standing closer. No room for her to get a decent kick in. Also, it was a lot easier for me to gently massage interesting places when I was this close.
"If you've quite finished dissecting my character may I make a suggestion? If you grab hold of my shoulders and wrap your legs around my waist you'll be able to lift yourself a little and I'll be able to unhitch your dress without tearing it. Just a suggestion."
She apparently thought it was a reasonable suggestion, silly girl, as she clamped her hands tightly onto my shoulders and swung her legs up and around my waist. This resulted in her being in a position to hoist herself higher but it also left her in a position where she was plastered against me. The horrified gasp that she gave told me that she'd guessed what her lower tummy was pressing against.
She flexed her muscles and pulled herself a little higher, helped I must admit by my hands cupping her bottom and lifting.
"Can you loosen my dress, please?" she asked, sounding as if this was a matter of some urgency, so I reached up and obliged. As the dress settled more modestly around her she gave a sigh of relief. (I should point out that it would have been more modest if she was standing. As it was, with her cuddling up to me with her legs wrapped around me the dress could only settle so far.)
"You can let me down now," Michelle pointed out and I helped her slide down along my body, my hands once again cupping her buttocks and holding her close against me. I suspect that her relief changed to trepidation at about the same point that she found my cock pressing against her vulva.
"Don't you dare, you rotten pig," she raged at me, but it was a little too late for that. I just let her weight take her and she started settling onto me very sweetly.
"It's not me, it's you," I pointed out. "You should have been more careful about how you slid down against me. Um, too late now, I think."
Damn right it was too late as first her lips, and then her passage, parted to let me pass, closing firmly over me once I had. I simply relaxed my hold on her buttocks and her own weight did the rest.
