Double Parked

A young woman illegally doubles parks over an underground apartment car space and experiences the true meaning of double parked.

It all happened after I had completed an intense interstate work-related trip from Perth. My mum had asked me as a favour to reconcile with her stepmother, Joanna. Age and distance and Facebook had those two back on reasonable terms. It was my last afternoon in Melbourne, and I hadn’t dared to call J yet. I had never gotten on with her as she had taken financial advantage of my mum too often. She had the unsavoury habit of using dodgy loan sharks.
“Are you sure, Kendall,” asked Sue as she packed her bag, “Save yourself angst; fly back with me.”
“Thanks, but I must do this, at least for my mum.”
Surer with words than in my mind.
My colleague and friend Susan; took the morning flight; I busied myself with shopping to avoid my family responsibilities, which was easy enough to do, using the last day of our hire car package. I hit Chapel Street hard; well, it has the city’s iconic boutiques; plus, designer and unique fashions; loads of accessories to die for, and retro treasures; all packaged in one precinct.
When you see ‘the dress’ which is you, you try it; feel right and buy it; price; no concern. It was so good; I wore it immediately. Light red floral with a side knot; yes, accentuating everything of my tall hourglass figure: boobs nicely separated; cleavage hint; a fabulous tie across my waist and hips; and the flouncy fabric flowing over and between my thighs. Of course, I needed shoes and damn it, I nailed a stunning new red pair; the heels were a tad higher than my usual, but they were divine. No choice but to wear them too straight out of the shop; I had to look and feel right; all over.
I had a coffee and a snack, trying to escape mulling over Joanne. I realised shopping had only made me feel guiltier for avoiding restoring relations. Sometimes retail therapy does fail. So, in the end, I brought a bunch of flowers, set the GPS for the Inner-City Dockland Apartments and was there with sufficient time for a polite visit before I could make my excuses and head through traffic to the airport and home to the Swan River. My duty done.
However, there were no frickin parking spots, pay or fifteen minutes free, anywhere. As I hit a frazzle point, I remembered the old duck, who didn’t drive, had to have a parking spot attached to her high-rise unit. I entered the basement car park, using the access pin my mother had given me; I recalled thinking, well, that’s something I won’t need; I wasn’t sure when leaving Perth if I could suck it in and see the cow. After heading down a couple of ramps into the bowels of the building, looking for J’s allocated unit number parking spot, I found it, but hell, it was occupied!
There was a bloody black Mercedes in the slot. Mmm, I was desperate. As it was the last parking spot in the row and wall side, I illegally double parked the small Volkswagen Polo I was driving and decided whoever was visiting Joanna or dishonestly parked in her spot; would be there longer than me.
I walked over several metres and entered the stairwell and elevator area. Just as my lift doors were about to close to go up, the one opposite me opened, and I saw two handsome well-suited guys about to get out. One was a slick blonde, and the other had longer, darker hair. I went to visit Joanna, thinking there was an opportunity to flirt or, more, missed for a hot young woman like myself.
They say never visit unannounced. Of course, the virago wasn’t there. Probably out losing on the horses or a shady roulette wheel. I left the carnations at J’s door; she might guess it was me. I had nothing on me with which to scrawl a meaningless note; the sorry I missed you, catch you next time I’m this way. It could be years, and I knew it. I sort of decided I would make contact by social media, maybe. Down the elevator I went, intent on flying home. Thinking, too; I should have just taken the early flight with Sue.
Oh Shit. Oh, Fuck. Oh, Crap. Oh, Bugger and Hell No; flooded through my mind in a jumble, tumble sequence; as I saw my car. I saw it from the stairwell door. The two guys from the elevator were leaning back on the Polo’s bonnet; arms crossed, bloody unimpressed. Pity because they were hunky dudes. I did, though, clench the car keys in my hand for a second. Evolutionary fight or flight response. But hey, I was a confident modern woman, and my feminine wiles brain took over.
Well, there was nothing for it but to try the sultry voice and the provocative look. I was quickly unadulterated feminine eye candy. I was poised in my new dress and heels. Geez, I needed this pair under my sway. I had my best sexy saunter, the perfect fem-strut, and my absolute best man-melting movements. My head up, my eyes smouldering into them, my shoulders back, and man, oh man, was I leading with my best assets, my curvy boobs. My arms had the self-confident swing, my body was so frickin sexy in my new light summer dress, and I was working the hips, baby. There is a hip swivel, and there was my goddamn swivel delight. My clicking heels were defining my self-assurance. I had the symmetrical alignment of my wide sexual blue orbs, looking straight at the pair; my tongue had deliberately slightly moistened my lips; my tarty jiggle tit sway was entirely underway, and my dress was clinging over my hips and soft, firm belly; the fabric; with a smooth of my hands; defining my womanly V, as I approached them.
Oh, they knew I had double-parked in front of their trapped vehicle instantly, and I was full-on trying to charm my way out of my predicament. I knew I looked hot. I also suddenly felt sexier under their joint scrutiny. Yes, they were both ogling me.
I had their attention all right as I got closer to them; you know, the personal zone where they couldn’t get angry with a fetching woman, go male ‘gaga’, and give in and only later scratch their heads and their groins and realise how feminine wiles had got the better of them. Well, that was the plan. The problem was that my approach was too kick-arse raunchy, and it ended up being my arse on the line.
“Oh, please forgive me. My sincerest apologies, “I started in a husky, flirtatious voice.
The natural blonde dude didn’t let me add more, “Oh lady, it’s cool because we are going to double park you.”
I didn’t register his meaning, but the darker-haired guy added, “DP sweetie, I think you owe us that much, maybe a full airtight moment, actually.”
Oh, I got their drift, well I’d never had an airtight moment, you know, a cock in my mouth, a set of fingers in my pussy and a butt plug prepping my arse, let alone a DP, I mean, that’s too vulnerable for any woman, isn’t it? Or the mind-boggling, completely airtight a cock in every orifice at the same time. Mind treble overwhelming.
I mean, I could take a cock up my arse fine; I like it, actually, and vag sex is a pleasure given. But DP, or as I was learning new slang, to get double parked, here and now; I mean in an underground car park on the bonnet of a Red Polo, I didn’t think so. Even if my dress pattern nicely flattered the car.
I had gotten too close; the two guys, in speaking, had gotten even closer to me. I was boxed in tighter than their Mercedes. I mean, all I had to say was “No”. However, there was that deep grubby slut part of me that had walked right into this. I realised I could overthink this. If I thought about it, I wouldn’t do it.
I let the polo keys loosely clang to the concrete at my feet.
My hands were way in front of my brain and found double groins, one to my front, one to my side, and from there, I lost any decency as my body yielded consent, no time for a nod or a yea.
It was all rollercoaster swift after that. I mean, one randy guy pawing your body is usually enough for a girl. God, did I get it hasty. Yeah, I was double tugging cock that I had loosened out of pants, but hell, this pair gave a new meaning to fast and furious. My dress was off, down from my shoulders, my petite pink knickers were around my ankles, my big tits cupped over my bra and oh wow, my nipples were getting a fantastic sucking while my pussy and arse were being both double-fingered. This pair was tag teaming me, and both were frickin impatient for the main event. I was very wet and spread super-fast, where it would count. Man, oh man, were this duo packin’ big hard cocks.
I was a girly flesh sandwich so amazingly quickly. My slit and arsehole were literally gang-banged by their fingers. Then it was insane. Beyond what I knew. I nearly held my breath permanently as a cock slid into my pussy, and another cock was nearly at the same instance rimming, then gouging into my butthole.
“Oh Fuck, Oh My...Orrgh...Ah...Ah...Aah,” and then I was grunting and panting within the rhythm of their dual penetration. The perfect sods had me totally, one cock in deep in front of me, the other pecker shallow behind me, yet both so close together and, then cock shallow in front and amazingly ball deep behind me.
I was yelping and thrashing between them. My tits were crushed. I was a wild orgiastic banshee of pleasure. I pulled the body of the blonde in front of me from his arse cheeks, making him go pussy deeper, as the cock behind teased my pucker opening, so shallow, and then I arched and pushed my arse back to join the cock burrowing into me.
Then it was all too good. I had no self-jurisdiction. I was trash slut whored; basically, rag-dolled. One cock slid into me while the other pulled my arse back. My arse then pounded while my pussy was succinctly teased. Two cocks in me at once, so deliciously filthy close.
Triple pleasure escalating; I was the central focus, however. All I could do was FEEL, be me, beyond the limits par excellence. I was a convert to the deed; I’d be back for more of this; I knew it already before my orgasm.
The pleasure climax spasms in my arse and pussy surprised me. I sailed straight into the superlative big O domain, combined coochie and anal fem-gasms.
As I regained some semblance of awareness, my butthole and pussy were dribbling cum together as both the stand-over guys satisfied peckers were eased out of me. I could barely walk or straighten back up.
The dark-haired dude picked up the polo keys and moved the hire vehicle further back while the blonde guy moved their Mercedes out. My car was there, idling in the aisle. I was left basically naked to gather up my clothes.
The pair gave me a combined long dirty wolf whistle while I was still redressing, and then their black beast was only an exhaust-fumed irritation as it disappeared up the ramp to the next level.
But my body. My body and my mind. To womanly process where I’d been, it would take doing it again, I told myself, to fully understand and appreciate where I had been.
And as I drove happily but a tad sore to the airport: Oh, I’d ‘double park’ again, I knew it already.