Free Act of Exposure by Cathryn Cooper Page B

centre of his chest.
    'So you want a
mascot, do you? Well, you'll have to catch me first!'
    Catching him
unawares, she sprang from his arms and ran into the dark shadows of
the trees.
    The earth
beneath her feet smelt rich and felt soft. Ferns and small bushes
brushed against her thighs, her hips, her legs and her naked
breasts.
    She heard him
behind her, his shoes heavy upon the ground. Judging by the sound
of his footsteps he was gaining on her, but then she meant him
to.
    'Got you!'
    Strong arms
gathered her close to his body. She struggled, a naked, helpless
struggle against the hardness of his chest. The advantage was
his.
    'No!' she
cried out. 'Let me go!'
    But she didn't
want him to let her go. This game had been devised by him, yet she
instinctively knew the rules, knew what she was required to do and
to be.
    'Certainly
not.'
    He tied her
hands behind her which made her breasts jut forward just as they
did in her act. Then he hobbled her ankles so she could only walk,
not run.
    'Get going,'
he ordered. A strip of the leather that bound her hands and also
formed a leash, landed on her buttocks.
    She yelped
like a puppy, started, then began to stumble forward. Lacking the
freedom of movement that had made her feet fly over the damp earth
earlier, her step now was less confident, her eyes wary of the dark
that surrounded her like a chill cloak. All the same, she was still
shivering with excitement as she stumbled on.
    'Keep
going!'
    Stephen's
voice was accompanied by another stroke from the leather leash.
    Back at the
car, he had her sit on the bonnet. It was warm, pleasant beneath
her bottom. Each leather leash remained fastened to her wrists. He
pulled the ends back and fastened them around the wing mirrors. He
undid the strap that hobbled her ankles, then tied it to something
on the front wing so that her right leg was spread out to one side.
He found a new piece of leather and did the same to her other
ankle.
    Abby's breasts
heaved with excitement when she heard the car door slam. What was
he planning to do with her? Her arms were stretched out behind her,
her wrists secure. Because her legs were spread out to each side,
the breeze trifled with her pubic hair and the delicate inner lips
of her sex.
    In her mind,
and probably in Stephen's, she was the Spirit of Ecstasy - but
improved. The original was made of metal and chromium plated. She
was real. She was flesh and blood. She felt something the original
had never felt.
    As the car
moved forward, the breeze whipped her hair back from her face. The
black velvet bow had already fallen off in the car.
    Because the
breeze was cooler on the move, the goose bumps returned to replace
the warmth she had enjoyed during the chase. Her nipples hardened
and swelled to three times their normal size. Partly due to the
breeze, and partly excitement, her stomach muscles tensed.
    The track
through the forest became more bumpy. Behind the wheel of the car,
Stephen watched as her body which was held so tightly by the
restraining leather, swayed from side to side. Her bottom bumped up
and down on the shiny black car, her flesh jiggling slightly as the
engine intoned its monotonous note.
    The sight of
her like that delighted him. From behind, he could imagine her
breasts jiggling gently then more vigorously as he purposely drove
over the deepest pot holes, the roughest gravel. Every so often,
the odd patch of fine gravel would be sure to fly up and pepper her
with its tingling sting. How exquisite that would feel to her; how
delightful the thought of it felt to him.
    He was aware
that his erection had reached superb proportions. However, he knew
better than to stop the car and immediately push himself into this
woman.
    Abigail
Corrigan was sophisticated, a woman of unusual tastes. It would not
be enough to slam into her and say thank you afterwards. She was
the sort of woman who needed someone to draw into her deepest well
and extract the last droplet of erotic arousal.
    Stephen
Sigmund