Obstacle on the right.

Hungry_RaccoonJune 6, 202510 min read2.0K views

The morning started with coffee, but it didn't have any favorable consequences. I set off in my car for my nail appointment and got stuck in a bit of traffic. Being late for something was far from my habit, as I'm an extremely punctual person (it probably would have been better if things were different). Many cars had piled up at the traffic light, and I was stuck there for a long time. The light turned green. Hoping to make it through with the rest of the traffic, I failed because of some jerk. Just as I pulled up to the stop line at the light, a tinted black BMW cut in front of me from the right side out of nowhere, damn its

driver and his rear-wheel-drive carriage. And because of him, the light turned red right in front of me, while he safely crossed the intersection. I gritted my teeth in anger, gripping the steering wheel tightly as I waited for the green signal. Finally, I started moving from a standstill, and not just moving, but practically burning rubber on the asphalt until it almost smoked, catching up to that asshole at the next traffic light, pulling up alongside him in the left lane next to him. I opened the passenger window a bit, but I couldn't see the BMW driver because of the dark glass, and I started yelling at him: "You freak, watch where you're going! Because of you, I might be late!" There was no reaction from that car, which made me even more outraged. The light turned green, I gave him the middle finger and turned left. I told my nail technician friend all about it with emotion and vivid details, as I couldn't calm down for a long time. After the procedure with my beautiful nails, I safely returned home and started doing my usual household chores. My evening was scheduled for a run in the park near my home. I put on tight-fitting sports leggings, a top, and a light windbreaker with sneakers. I loved going for a run when it was just starting to get dark and there were few people in the park. At the park entrance in the parking lot, I noticed that same black tinted BMW, which made me nervous. I couldn't make out if anyone was inside. A coincidence? Why is it parked here? Maybe just a twist of fate... I stepped onto the path, put my headphones in my ears with music from my player, and started running. Turning off my thoughts, I relaxed and listened to music while my legs were busy. There were practically no people, only one couple caught kissing on a bench. Many bushes and trees filled my lungs with fresh oxygen, and I breathed it in deeply. Suddenly, some man in a black balaclava stepped out from behind a tree right in front of me, and I collided with him. It wasn't an accident. The man grabbed me from behind, covering my mouth with his hand, and dragged me deep into the thick planting of trees. I tried to scream through his hands and fight back with my arms. He pressed some cloth to my face, and I drifted away from consciousness. After some time, I slowly started to come to, and opening my eyes, I realized my mouth was sealed with thick, strong tape, and my hands were tied behind my back with rope. I was lying in a car on the back seat; it was very dark. The man was sitting in the driver's seat, still in the balaclava, and driving somewhere, and after about 5 minutes we stopped. He opened the door, got out of the car, and I lay there unable to understand what was happening. Suddenly, the door on my side opened, and he started quickly and carelessly pulling me out of the car. We were somewhere in a deserted, unpopulated area on a wasteland. I moaned through the tape and kicked my legs. The man stood me up in front of him; I could only see his eyes, he was drilling into me with his gaze. I didn't understand what he wanted from me or who he was. I moaned, trying to say something to him, but he wasn't interested at all. And then he spoke: "You don't recognize me, you didn't see me, but I remember you and your finger very well." And it dawned on me that this was the freak in the BMW who cut me off. What does he want from me now? And I remembered a scene from a movie where a trucker maniac asked a girl to bring him her middle finger, the one she showed him, cut off. I got scared; I didn't want to give him my finger. I looked at him with a pleading gaze and continued to moan something. "You're such a rude girl, quick to insult and flip the bird. You can't do that, understand. I'll teach you good manners," he said this calmly and threateningly. He abruptly turned me with my back to him, quickly pulled my leggings and panties down to the ground, and pressed my chest against the trunk. "Since I won't open your dirty mouth yet, I'll use your main hole," he said this and abruptly entered me from behind, starting to move quickly. I moaned loudly through the tape and cried, clenching my palms into fists behind my back. The man frantically pounded his cock into my pussy until he finished right inside. Then he stepped away from me, took tissues from the glove compartment to wipe his cock. I knelt on the ground, sobbing and shedding the last of my tears. After he finished his business, without putting his pants back on, he squatted down next to me, and with a sharp movement tore the tape from my lips. I screamed in pain and squeezed my eyes shut. "What? Does it hurt? Let me help you," after these words he rose slightly on his knee and quickly entered my mouth with his cock. He pushed it in slowly but deeply, which was hard for me to handle. Without letting me catch my breath or properly get used to the contents of my mouth, he started fucking it harder and faster. He breathed excitedly and said in a hoarse voice: "We need to rinse your dirty mouth, and also lubricate your lips so they don't hurt." Then he shoved his cock deeper, and I felt his cum start to hit the back of my throat in a strong stream. When he pulled it out of my mouth, I spent a long time trying to catch my breath, spitting the remnants of cum onto the ground. He put on his pants and shoved me back into the car, returning to the driver's seat himself. He drove me to my park, untied my hands, and let me out of the car, then drove away. I sat on the nearest bench, stunned by what had happened, and only returned home late at night. I took a shower and went to bed. The next day, I hurried to the pharmacy for an emergency contraceptive pill and took it immediately. I didn't tell anyone about this situation; I was very ashamed. Some time passed, I started to recover and slowly leave that situation behind. I immersed myself back into the previous joys of life, relaxing and having fun. I went to a nightclub with my girlfriends and met a really cool guy. We chatted nicely, drank, danced. After the club, we exchanged phone numbers and went our separate ways home. We kept in touch by phone, texting in messengers; we really enjoyed talking to each other. He invited me to a restaurant; he courted me so beautifully, gave me a bouquet of red roses, we drank champagne. Afterwards, he invited me to take a taxi to his place, and there he gave me an unforgettable, lustful night. He caressed my entire body like no one ever had, giving me more than one orgasm with his tongue and cock. From then on, I didn't want anyone else. As much as our schedules and free time allowed, we continued to talk and meet, walking on foot to various places in our city. Once, he invited me to meet by the sea, asked me to come alone in my car by eight in the evening, while he, supposedly, was preparing a surprise. I was looking forward to the meeting and started getting ready carefully. A little dress, heels, hairstyle, makeup. I arrived at the specified place, the parking lot right in front of the beach, at ten to eight. There was no one and no cars nearby yet. I got out of the car, walked over to the railing, and looked at the sea. From afar, I heard the sound of wheels on the sandy road of an approaching car, but I didn't turn away from the view of the sea. Then the sound of the wheels died down, a car door slammed, and footsteps were heard. I realized it was him, and my face broke into a smile. Still walking, he shouted to me not to turn around. I giggled, expecting some kind of surprise. He came up behind me, hugged me, and held out one gorgeous, huge scarlet rose in front of me. Just as I was about to turn around, he stopped me. "Don't turn around, sweetheart. I need to talk to you. Listen." I nodded in agreement and pressed his hand tighter against me, stroking it. And he continued: "I need to tell you something very important. I am very guilty before you, and I can't make up for my guilt in any way, even though I've been trying as best I can since that incident. But no matter what good emotions I give you now, I can't erase the ones I brought you then. I had a moment of madness, I don't know why I did that to you, it's terrible. I've thought it all over, I'm not that kind of person, I don't deserve forgiveness. And, probably, I made it even worse by making you like me now, I understand all that." I interrupted his speech, abruptly turned to face him, looking into his eyes: "What are you talking about? You bring happiness into my life, tenderness, care, attention, insane sex. I love you," I said this with tears of joy in my eyes, looking away. Suddenly, the smile on my face disappeared after I saw the painfully familiar black BMW parked next to my car. He saw the fear in my eyes and how I started backing away from him.

— Wait, please. Don't be afraid of me. Let me explain everything.

— How could you? Why?

— I wasn't myself after your rudeness, I really wanted to teach you a lesson. And my own morning hadn't gone well, I was so aroused and angry. But I deeply regretted it, that's why I got to know you, to make up for everything.

I wasn't listening to him anymore, I ran towards my car, and he started chasing me.

— You've become dear to me during this time, I was genuinely happy with you. How can I fix this?

— You can't. Leave me alone.

I got into my car and drove away quickly. I refused to answer his messages and calls, blocked his number. But wherever I was, I often saw his car; maybe he was in it and watching me, whether with bad or good intentions.

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