Days in Rodanthe Pt. 02

Babes

Note: This is part 2 of the series, and will seem improbable unless the first segment is digested.

1

Predictably, I accepted Za’ana’s offer to fly to the Caribbean with her instead of a long road trip to Florida with the guys. My spring break would be spent at a warm beach, but not among the drunken crowds. I would be with this intriguing, multilingual beauty of Middle Eastern descent I fell for almost instantly playing her ‘games’ in Rodanthe. The stunning brunette’s cheerful public persona kept her lustful need to control, humiliate and inflict pain hidden. Za’ana’s dignified confidence masked her other bizarre cravings as well. Hopefully I was the sole keeper of her secrets. Fate had selected me, an average guy on the surface, as the one who could no longer deny his depraved masochistic pleasure in submitting to her twisted wishes.

I was already partially packed for a trip south anyway. We left as soon as she finished making flight and hotel reservations on my laptop.

“Rob,” she said in that sexy voice and exotic accent, grinning at me as we walked out of my dorm room, “make sure to smack me on the ass when your friends are looking.” I took her up on the offer twice, getting a kiss on the cheek each time before we reached the car.

I expected a mysterious secret government agent such as her to drive something like a turbo Audi, but she had a regular silver Chevy Tahoe. New York was our destination, to catch a late flight to warm Miami and beyond. The sun was bright but there were still patches of snow on the ground beneath the bare trees that covered the Pennsylvania mountains along I-80. I was so glad to see her, it was hard to contain my enthusiasm, and I probably talked too much. Techno-pop sung in one of her languages played softly on the stereo. Soon Za’ana brought up our escapades at the beach house.

“You know Robert, it’s been six months since we’ve seen each other, and played our nasty game,” she said, “We can’t just pick up where we left off. I was under a lot of stress and in a moment of weakness, I said things…I meant every word, but you understand we are still playing the game, Rob, and this is not just a spring break hook up. Some rules have changed, but you still have to do as I say, okay?”

I agreed as I thought about the moment of weakness she was referring sentimentally to. It must have been the moment we nearly kissed. It was a classic, passionate, romance novel-esque moment, except our mouths were rife with the taste of vomit and excrement. My memories of those unforgettable weeks were interrupted when she spoke.

“We have to make a stop here,” she announced as the SUV slowed and rolled onto a wide spot on the shoulder. We were in a remote, hilly area, where the highway passed through a forested state park. For a moment I thought maybe there was something wrong with the truck. “Time to start playing, you fucking pervert!” she said with a serious look. We exited the Chevy and hopped the guardrail, descending several yards down an embankment into the woods. “Take off your clothes! Everything, but put your shoes back on.”

We were out of sight of the Interstate, but a blacktop secondary road was a couple hundred feet further down the hill. We were fairly conspicuous, since most of the trees were devoid of leaves. My bigger concern was the temperature, about fifty degrees. I assumed I would be whacking off for her any moment now as I stripped out of my clothes. The air felt even more frigid with each item I removed. Soon I was standing naked, shivering in front of Za’ana, who had her hands on her hips impatiently. I had been spending extra time in the gym working on my upper body, with the faint hope I would see her again, but didn’t think this would be how she would first view the minimal results. She thankfully handed me my ski jacket back, although it only covered me from the hips upward. My soft dick, shriveled balls and white ass remained exposed. I gathered my arms around my chest and felt really stupid outdoors with just my Nikes, socks and jacket on. The noise of the constant parade of cars and trucks continued from uphill.

“Stop your fucking complaining,” she said, even though I hadn’t spoken. “It was this cold in my bedroom when I was a child. Here.” She handed me a cell phone. “This has my number programmed into it. I stopped here on the way to your school. Across that road and up the hill, I put the panties I wore yesterday into a zipper bag and a grocery bag and tied them to a tree branch. I’m going to the next exit to get some breakfast. You call and tell me what color they are, and I’ll come back and meet you here, and you will hold them to your nose and jerk your cock for me. Keep moving so you don’t get chilled. In thirty minutes or so, if you haven’t found them, I will come to get you, but I will take you back to your school and cancel your tickets. I’m starting to feel like we’re strangers again and I’m not sure my coming to find you was such a good idea.” canlı bahis şirketleri she turned away coldly. “Thirty minutes, maybe twenty,” she shouted over her shoulder, not turning around as she stepped back uphill toward her car with surprising agility, considering she was wearing high heels.

The next half hour was progressively one of the worst in my life as I cursed myself for my weakness, that I could not resist her and the risky behavior I had undertaken. I dashed across the secondary road, not twenty seconds later a dump truck rumbled past, and I ducked behind an evergreen tree. There was a shallow creek alongside the road, and the terrain sloped upward beyond. I jumped the creek and jogged uphill as fast as I could go, reasoning that I could survey the landscape better. The problem was that Za’ana was a distance runner and could have switched her shoes and placed the panties half a mile away. I looked for footprints in the remaining snow, but found none. I dashed around frantically, falling several times, out of breath, my bare legs chilled and scraped by branches. I found a few plastic grocery bags, but all were litter, filled with beer bottles or old fast food trash. I hid on a half dozen occasions as cars drove by. My dick and nuts had practically disappeared up into my body from the cold air.

I could not find the fucking panties. There was nothing tied to any tree limbs anywhere. I sat on a cold rock for a minute to rest. I decide to call her and plead for a hint or more time. I pulled out the cell she had given me and flipped it open. It wouldn’t come on, no matter what button I pressed. My own phone was in my pants, which she took with her, not that I had the number anyway. I had been tricked, and couldn’t even call someone to come get me before my toes and dick got frostbite. Here I was in the woods, cold winkie hanging out, and I had fucked up my spring break. My dorm ride to Florida had already left. No warm beaches with stripping drunk girls this year. My anger at Za’ana began to fester. I began to grow paranoid, wondering if she was never coming back, and this was some revenge she took for some task I didn’t perform well enough. Maybe her badge was fake and she really was on the other side, and was going to video everything and blackmail me into some errand for her splinter cell. I came to my senses, remembering she had a dietary secret of her own, but still it would be difficult to prove if I ever had to. It had been close to a half hour, so I trotted down across the creek and road, avoiding passing cars and finding a leaf strewn area to sit down behind a stump near the guardrail. I wanted to scream and cry but did neither. I wasn’t sure if she was serious about cancelling the trip or not. I decided to be nice enough to her to get me back my clothes and duffel bag. We had only passed a few exits, and I could hitchhike back to school. Suddenly a week at home watching TV didn’t seem so bad. Maybe I could hang out with my little brother and pick up a girl at a high school party or the mall, as long as she was eighteen, I sarcastically thought to myself. I knew this whole damn reunion was too good to be true. After what seemed like an hour, but was probably ten minutes, the silver SUV returned. I was not going to quit, but try to bargain for more time. She emerged from the truck and stepped over the guardrail and stomped downhill.

“Well? Where are they?” she asked angrily.

I stood to face her, the wind chilling my legs once again. “I need more time.” I said, hopping up and down slightly, teeth nearly chattering.

“No! You failed, you lazy bastard!” She stepped toward me. I noticed she had at least left her gun and badge in the Chevy, so I at least I wasn’t going to be shot, not here anyway. “I give you one little thing to do and you sit here like a chicken because you don’t care about pleasing me!”

“Za’ana, I tried! I looked all over that other slope. Go look at the fuckin’ footprints in the snow! Look at these scrapes!” I pointed to my calves. “Give me ten more minutes!” I said, my frustration showing. “Are you sure this is were you left them?”

“You are doubting me and telling me what to do? Bend over, you fucking disappointment!”

I saw her unbuckle the wide red leather belt that had been surrounding her small waist as she approached me. She hadn’t worn her jacket over the lightweight gray sweater and her stunning nipples, oriented upward slightly, were braced against the cold.

Despite my anguish, the immediate prospect of being spanked and the two stiffened reminders of how much I had loved seeing those tits momentarily outweighed my fear of her cancelling the trip, and my dick began to grow. I bent over and grabbed my ankles as commanded, and squirmed around as I withstood about twenty rapid, stinging lashes from her fashion accessory. She cursed, I assumed, in other languages the entire time. I then felt her shoe on my balls pushing on them painfully until I fell canlı kaçak iddaa forward, hands extended, onto my stomach, my face into a pile of leaves. Something, probably still her shoe, was digging at my rectum, twisting and pressing. I was nearly in tears; I didn’t want the trip to end so soon.

“Turn over!” Za’ana yelled. “Face me!” She then flung the red belt across the front of my thighs, dangerously close to my semi-hard dick.

My next view was of the sky, bare overhanging tree branches, and Za’ana, she was even beautiful at this angle. I felt really stupid and vulnerable, lying outdoors on the ground with my chilled junk showing. I raised my face, eyes wet. My ass, now warm, throbbed painfully.

“Unzip the jacket!”

I tugged the zipper down and she stood over me, dragging the red belt up and down my body, tapping my face and pelting my chest and stomach lightly. She swung a little harder as she reached my dick, now fully erect and pointed at the blue sky. The red leather stung my shaft slightly a few times as she spoke.

“Too bad you failed Rob,” she said. “We would have had a great deal of fun together. Maybe a rich man will take pity on me, a woman all alone at the islands.” She raised the leather belt. “Spread your legs! I should whip your cock and balls right now since they will be of no use to me!”

For some reason the thought of my nuts and dick being flailed made it even harder. I spread my legs as she asked, but tried to talk my way out of trouble, as it was. “Please! No! I want to go with you! What else can I do?”

“Show me your asshole! Get those legs in the air!” she yelled, then lashed my ass once more. “Spit on your hand and rub it on your hole. I want to see two fingers deep inside!”

I raised my already parted legs and worked up as much spit as possible and began sticking my cold fingers in my ass. It was slow going and hard to relax my sphincter in the chilled air.

“Hurry up, you sick masturbator! Fuck yourself! Harder or I will take a picture with your phone and send it to your friends. I will say ‘Hi this is Rob’ tell them how much I love doing these nasty perverted things for Za’ana and how I beg to swallow her vomit and bowel movements.”

I couldn’t believe I was outdoors, almost naked, lying on the ground with my feet skyward, fingering my butt. Not so early into the trip, anyway.

“You couldn’t even find a pair panties!” she said, then reached up under her skirt and began to quickly tug her underwear and hose down. I got a quick glance at her dark bush before the skirt hid it from view. She continued pushing them down her long dark legs until they were around her ankles. I braced for toilet duty, but she stood beside my head. “Here! This is what they smell like! Rub your fucking face in them!”

I did as she said, turned my head and smelled her rich, provocative scent as my face was buried in the hose and her black thong panties, making my dick twitch. I reached down and ran my free hand up and down the shaft of my aching cock.

“No! No jerking until I say so!” She kicked my arm and stepped away. “Now go back down there and get the panties. Keep your fingers up your ass. I’ll tell you where to go.”

I stood up clumsily, fingers still embedded in my rectum, dreading another round of exploring the woods. But I was relieved I wasn’t going to have to contend with a mouthful of turds out here with nowhere to clean up. I began to step downhill, leaning to one side, stiff meat sticking out from under the coat. After several yards, she spoke.

“Okay Robert, stop. Come back up here.” She looked at me and smiled. I returned to her, still with my fingers in my ass. She placed a hand on the side my face and looked at me with those stunning brown eyes after she replaced her belt and adjusted her hose around her thighs. “You did very well, sweetie. There were never any panties down there. That cell phone is just an old one of mine. I was going to do something like this back at the beach house, but didn’t get the chance. I would have sent you up and down the beach one night, bare assed like this, maybe with a squash up your hole.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. She really knew how to fuck with my head.

“I didn’t go anywhere. I watched you from that hill over there.” She pointed off into the distance. “I saw you running all around. I love watching your naked ass cheeks.” She kissed me on the jaw. “You have no idea what it means to me when you show your dedication like that.” She kissed me on the mouth quickly as she tugged on my arm, freeing my fingers. “Come on, we’ve got a plane to catch.” In our distraction, we hadn’t noticed an old blue car down on the access road that had stopped. Apparently we had been seen through the bare trees. There was no telling how long it had been there. Hopefully it was no one from school, and whoever it was enjoyed the show. I might make it into a viral video after all. I dashed up to the canlı kaçak bahis guardrail and hopped over, hoping the distant cars on the interstate didn’t notice my boner and glowing red ass as I scrambled into the Tahoe.

After a session with the hand sanitizer, and the replacement of my clothes the voyage continued. We stopped in suburban Jersey for lunch at a Mexican restaurant, and as we ate, I couldn’t help wondering what the vegetarian fajitas and refried beans were going to be like the second time around. On the way back to the car, the outside air was cold, and the spicy cuisine made our noses run. I reached for my seat belt as she shut her door.

“Wait! Come here Rob!” She reached out to grab my face. “Open your fucking mouth.”

She guided me until I spun around so my head overhung her lap next to the steering wheel and I was looking at the ceiling of the truck. Her beautiful face descended and my heart raced. Her hands on my head felt wonderful. I wasn’t really expecting a kiss, but I was wondering what was taking her so long to spit until I realized her nose was directly over my open mouth. I heard Za’ana inhale deeply before a noisy torrent of salty, slimy, liquid cascaded into my mouth. The cycle repeated. She wiped her nostrils with a finger and ran it across my neck, then coughed and cleared her throat loudly. Her lips pursed and I felt a large blob of phlegm join the emulsion that already immersed my back teeth. I raised up to show her, mouth open.

“Very good! Swirl it around!” she said, smiling broadly, removing her jacket.

I could feel strings of the more viscous discharge cross my tongue, then span the distance across my lips. Finally I swallowed at her command.

“You just love doing these nasty things! Did you like it?” She hummed a couple notes. “I think I see a bulge in your pants.” She kissed my cheek.

“It was delicious, but not as much as your shit.” I responded. The briny cocktail I just consumed could be considered an after dinner mint, compared to her other offerings.

“So, you miss the taste of my stomach and bowels?” She asked casually as she checked her makeup in the mirror.

“Yes, I can’t wait for more.” I guess I was becoming a certified addict. My dick was getting hard thinking about her gorgeous, caramel-colored ass hovering over my face and making a deposit again.

“That’s so nice to hear.” Za’ana said sweetly in that sexy accent, patting my thigh and starting the truck. To my surprise, she lifted her gray turtleneck with both hands up to her armpits, revealing a sheer black bra. Her dark, half dollar-sized areolas and soft nipples that had flattened into dime-sized bumps were easily discernable beneath. She muttered a complaint and tugged on the straps and band on each side, pulling it down. “Usually I wear the padded kind, especially at work, since these are always trying to make themselves known,” she said, “but I put on this flimsy thin one to be slutty for you. You like?”

“Yes, you know I do.” I said, grinning.

About twenty minutes later, she pulled over to blow her nose again. I savored and swallowed her snot as trucks roared past us. Gradually a normal conversation about school began, and she asked a lot of questions about my short list of prior girlfriends. The subject switched to my masturbatory activities since her departure, which of course had been minimal and boring alone. We reached Manhattan, and Za’ana announced we had a couple stops to make and soon we drove into the dark parking garage of her building. Her apartment was fairly modern but cluttered with books, magazines and newspapers, and computer monitors and parts, including keyboards with Cyrillic and Arabic character sets. A few framed family photographs were hung on the walls. I waited in the living room until she emerged, sans gun and badge, towing a suitcase. She looked awesome. Za’ana wore tight, low rise jeans and a dress jacket over what looked like a silver halter top. A couple alluring inches of her flat lower stomach were visible above the waistband of the jeans. Next, we visited a high-end department store and she left me in the men’s department to buy some dressier ‘evening dinner’ clothes while she disappeared elsewhere. I guess my jeans, tennis shirt and ski jacket were a little ragged looking. She was paying, so I didn’t object.

We reassembled curbside at the Tahoe, with new luggage holding my suits and her mystery purchases. A pizza vendor took care of dinner and we left for JFK airport.

The next hours were a blur of parking shuttles, redcaps, lines, security checks and finally a wait a the gate. The chairs were actually comfortable and Za’ana sweetly fell asleep in my arms, but the bliss was short lived. A crowd of people arrived as the plane we were to take emptied out. There were only a handful of passengers on our midnight flight to Miami, most looked like tired, deadheading employees .

After take off, Za’ana once again snuggled up to me. Soon we were at cruising altitude. Our seats were near the back of the plane, and the other passengers were all in front of us, asleep. The sole flight attendant had disappeared into the cockpit, maybe she was blowing the pilots, I thought to myself.

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