Manhattan Man Hunt Pt 11 ~ A romance sex story from sex story sites.

His huge hands snapped open the restraining studs down the front of the glistening oilskin. He pulled it off, revealing an old black and yellow patterned track suit underneath, then held the raincoat up for Anita. It was clammy but warm and most importantly it covered her up decently. In fact it covered her up so much she felt like a little girl dressing up in her mother's clothes. The hem of the oilskin was hanging around her ankles and when he pulled the hood over her head it was like hiding in a subway tunnel.

"Aye, that'll keep the rain off you. Now we can go into the park."

"I sure did a good job of turning you on, didn't I?" Anita sniffled. "One look and you'd rather go for a walk in the park."

"Anita, I took one look at you and wanted you on the spot. But I'm getting bored with making out with clinically clean women in high rise, high tech, high life apartments. You were telling me, were you not, that the park over yonder is locked and only residents can get inside? As it not as dark as the inside of cow's gut out there, with the wind blowing and the rain pissing down? Nobody is going to be in there on a night like tonight. Can we not walk on the wet grass awhile and get to know each other with a little hugging to keep warm?"

Her voice came out of the folds of the hood in another wail of protest: "But I've got no shoes on!"

"Then it's me that'll carry you across the road to the park. Come on."

He took her hand in his and again she felt like a small girl as she was pulled along by a strength totally beyond her own. Tristan went down the stairs instead of using the elevator, moving at a speed which had Anita stumbling. At the first landing he stopped and looked back to see Beech eagerly trying to keep up but delayed by his short legs and big stomach in getting over the ledges, his leash dragging along behind him. Tristam laughed, put his hands underneath Anita's arms, lifted her off her feet and pressed her back to the wall.

"Tristan!"

"I've been wanting to this ever since I met you, gorgeous."

His face was in underneath the hood, close against her own, his breath was mingling with hers, his lips were against his, his tongue was between her teeth, against hers, and both tongues were pressing and licking against each other. Anita snorted through her nose like a steam locomotive beginning to move out of a station and her fingers slipped up and down the steel muscles of his arms. Then the rough kiss was suddenly broken off and she was lowered back onto her shaking legs.

"We've got to keep up with Beech," Tristam said. "If we're quick we can overtake him before the next landing and grab another quickie. How about it?"

"How many landings are there all the way down?"

"Let's find out."

They did, but nobody was counting. Anita alternated between mad bouts of scrambling down the steps with equally insane periods of her feet treading air and intensely enjoyable french kissing.

'This is crazy - this is over the edge. They've probably got surveillance cameras in here, the co-op board is going to be asking who are these crazy people we got living here? We have a fire, we've got to fight our way out past giant men and dwarves in oilskins making love to each other all over the building? In an apartment they want to put on rubber clothes OK, but on the steps and frightening the dog? And you're telling us this is behaviour from a lawyer who never yet melted butter in her mouth?'

She couldn't stop laughing, not even when she was out on the sidewalk with rain drops tapping aginst the hood and wind gusts cold around her bare ankles. Tristan had Beech's leash in his hand and transferred it to hers.

"Here, hold this."

She was off her feet again, cradled in his arms like a cord of wood, the rain was blowing in through the front of the hood, making her eyes blink, and she stared into the face of an old man underneath a raised umbrella, his jaw opened in astonishment as Tristam stepped past him, Anita held high, the leash tugging at her wrist as Beech raced ahead. Then they were in the dark, out over the road away from the street lights and the tree branches were rustling overhead like an angry crowd as Tristan trotted towards the park gate. When he reached them he put her down.

"Ooops-a-daisy."

Anita giggled: "You said 'oops-a-daisy'".

"No I didn't. An effete Englishman might say that but an Orcadian would say something like 'Fur Fria Und Odon'. It's a tribal custom whenever we're getting ready to sacrifice a virgin."

"I'm not a virgin, Tristan."

"Then I won't have to explain anything that's going on, will I?"

He unlocked the gate, pushed it open. The sidewalk was cold underneath her bare feet. Anita stared into the dripping and forbidding interior of the dark park.

"We'll freeze to death in there."

"No we won't. And when we get back I'll give you a nice hot bath and a good rub down afterwards that'll get your circulation going nicely - especially to your nipples."

Anita felt her face turning hot underneath the hood at the prospect. Tristan pushed her past the gate. It was like being put into the starting stall for a race, she thought. Her soles stepped on to a gravel pathway and she gasped with pain, moving sideways to walk on the grass instead.

The gate closed with a creak and a squeak as Tristam relocked it. "Scram, Beech."