Can Removing Highways Fix America’s Cities?
The room had the scent of freshness about it, a nice change from the heavier, musty smell of her old apartment. Tara held a cardboard box with all her more intimate belongings – the kinds of things she wouldn't want the movers to find if they 'accidently' took a peek inside the box labeled "PERSONAL" with large black marker.
The movers weren't due to arrive for another hour, and in the meantime Tara had little else to do. She had taken the day off of waitressing at the coffee house so she could set up her new apartment, and without her computer to update her blog or even a couch to daydream on she had nothing left except to wait for the rest of her things to come in.
She closed the door to her new bedroom and sat down, placed the box between her legs, and opened it. Inside she found a few of her tank tops, tight blue jeans, mid thigh-length skirts, thin socks, and other bits of clothing. Tara wore those kinds of clothes whenever she could – her more-than handfuls of breasts felt so snug in her tight tank tops, and her jeans hugged her ass perfectly. Others definitely noticed as she sauntered along the streets in a short skirt or while she was waitressing, hips swaying and breasts jutting. Their attention always had a way of making her smile.
"Oh well," Tara thought with a shrug, "I know I'll still enjoy it."
Her still-warm panties found a place in the box and were buried again as she sat and dug deeper. She touched the soft leathery corner of her personal scrapbook. "Gotcha!" she pulled out the small tome and set it onto her lap. The plain cover hid the pages and pages of pictures Tara had found in her explorations into the darker side of the internet.
Inspired, Tara put the book aside and rummaged around some more in the box. At the very bottom her fingers brushed by something firm and long – just what she was looking for. She pulled out her hidden toy, a rabbit vibrator, squeezing the firm yet yielding gel shaft into her palm and stroking the clit stimulator in slow deliberate circles.
"Mmmm..." She thought of how he would want her so bad that she would feel it in his gaze, feel it in his grip around her waist, and that he wouldn't hesitate to push her to the floor and take her like an animal. Her panties were getting moist at the thought, and when she lifted up her little skirt she could see the light pink fabric darkening with her juices...
*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*
Tara shoved the dildo under the clothes in her box along with her scrap book and jumped to her feet in half a second, her heart pounding as she rearranged her panties over her frustrated sex.
"Are you Tara Bridges?" The man in front asked.
"Yeah... That's me..."
"Looks like you have some furniture to move in," The man looked down at his clipboard, "Single-piece couch, table, some dining room chairs, queen-sized bed plus headboard, and assorted cardboard boxes – Is that right Miss Bridges?"
"Umm, yes, that's right."
"Alright then," He looked back and motioned to his two partners who disappeared down the steps, "My associates will start moving up your things while you show me where you'll have them."
"Oh my God! They are sooo hot!"
"Pretty big, isn't it?" He said.
Tara jumped, her face red. "W-what?"
There was a shuffling in the living room. Tara looked around and saw the other two moving men, quite buff and toned almost as much as the foreman, carrying her large couch in as easily as if it were an empty cardboard box.
"Where'll we put it?" One of them asked.
The two men put the couch down and went back downstairs while the foreman stayed with Tara. Her knees were feeling weak just by standing next to the man. She could feel his heat even from a foot away.
"This is a pretty nice apartment you've got," he said, "Excited about moving in?"
"Oh yeah - yeah, I'm pretty excited," Tara replied.
"We're usually having to move refrigerators and cabinets and cat trees for little old ladies that smell like mothballs, so this'll be a nice change of pace for once."
Tara laughed, "Mothballs?"
"Haha, well I don't think you'll have to worry about picking up a bad smell here – no mothballs or cats for me!"
"I'll take your word for it. Seems to smell rather nice in here, actually," he flashed Tara a sidelong glance. She felt herself blush even harder.
"So, uh, what's your name?" Tara suddenly found the need to brush her hair back and study the hardwood floor.
"Name's Roy, Miss Bridges," he said.
"Ah, then you can call me Tara, Roy," she extended her hand politely.
"Well then Tara, it is a pleasure to meet you," he reached forward and took hold of her hand. Tara watched her dainty hand disappear in his firm, electric grasp. They shook, he barely moving yet Tara felt his strength all through her arm. She thought her knees might buckle.
She was relieved to hear the two other moving men enter the living room again. "Roy," said one of them with a box under each arm, "in the time you've spent talking up the pretty lady you could've emptied out half the truck!"
"Yeah," the other grunted as he set down a large box, "bet she's tired of you trying to oogle the goods instead of helping us move 'em!"
Tara felt much better about being interrupted then – this show was better than photos for sure! Tara leaned in the bedroom doorframe with her arms crossed under her breasts, watching the men work. Steadily, the bare apartment filled with her things – lamps, chairs, rolled up carpets, and countless cardboard boxes.
Tara was snapped out of her reverie as Roy approached. The other men thumped her refrigerator down behind the kitchen counter, and the rest of the room was filled with her things already.
"So," Roy said, "That seems to be just about everything, Miss Tara Bridges. Just the bed left to move in, but that shouldn't be a problem" His confident voice made Tara melt. It was the kind of voice that Tara imagined whispering in her ear on her many boyfriendless nights...
"Really? I thought I had more things..." "Damn it, I wish I had more!" Tara entertained the idea of taking a hasty trip to the furniture store – she was sure they were on the brink of taking off their shirts for real.
"Hehe, thank you. I try to be pretty, ya know?" She felt giddy around Roy – he'd be populating her fantasies for nights to come, she was sure.
"Naw, you don't have to try I'd say," he looked around the freshly moved-in bachelorette's apartment, "I suppose your boyfriend will be bringing over his stuff pretty soon, eh?"
"Boyfriend? Ha! Haven't had one of those for awhile," Tara said, with just a hint of bitterness. Sex was so hard to come by since her last boyfriend, and her fantasies could only go so far to satisfy her. "Maybe you can ask your girlfriend to find me one, hmm?"
Roy laughed, "No girlfriends for me. I like to keep things pretty simple, and not just any girl will do. But you should be having tons of guys falling over themselves trying to get to you!"
Tara shook her head, "Mm-mm. Maybe none of them are brave enough to just come and get me."
"Oh, don't be too sure," Roy said, "I'm sure someone is going to catch you fairly soon, Tara."
Tara smiled – she was hoping he would ask for her number, but she heard the thumping steps in the hallway again.
"Looks like they've got your bed. I should probably go help them – they'll get cranky if I don't." Tara opened her mouth but Roy dashed out the door before she could say anything. "Damn," she huffed, smoothing out her skirt for the second time that night.
They positioned the bed with a loud thump. Somehow they were able to bring the large bed all up in one piece, a feat which further impressed Tara. All three men left the room again, Roy giving her a final sidelong glance as he walked out the door. She looked on, not wanting them to be leaving so soon, and pulled her black sheets from the box.
She sat at the foot of her bed and her mind wandered. Her mind flashed with short visions of hot and heavy sex, of strong men forcing her against her soft sheets, pressing her face into the pillows as they took their turns fucking her long and hard. Big strong men, like the ones in her living room right then... The movers were surely not helping her get over her horniness, and Tara felt like if she didn't get some relief soon she might very well make her fantasies a reality. Her hand crept up her inner thigh, wishing somehow she would get more than just fantasies tonight...
There was a polite, deep cough at the open bedroom door. Tara jumped to her feet, noticing only now that the movers had stopped talking. They stood inside her bedroom's doorway, Roy in front with arms crossed. They were grinning as she hastily straightened out her skirt, a blush crossing her face.
"All moved in, Tara," Roy announced, and Tara nodded quickly.
"T-thanks guys, you helped me out a lot!" Tara said, wondering if they had seen her hand under her skirt.
"Now, about our payment..." Roy said.
"Oh, right..." Tara said, "Let me just get my checkbook..." She stepped towards the doorway somewhat slowly. She was beginning to think of ways to keep them around – invite them to stay for coffee, or to move in just one more piece of furniture that she hadn't quite bought yet, or -
But Tara didn't have the chance to think. The door slammed shut before she got there.
"Not that kind of payment, Tara."
She stopped. "Um, do... do you guys only take cash then?"
This time they all laughed - strong hearty laughs. "Oh no, we're not going to take money from you, Tara." Roy said, stepping forward, "I discussed it with my boys, and we all agreed that we'll be taking something else tonight..."
Tara felt very small before the wall of muscle-bound men, "W-what will you take then?" She asked, backing up slightly. There was nowhere to go. A knowing chill ran up her spine. Roy grinned.
"You."
The men were on Tara in an instant – their strong hands grabbing her arms, roving up her legs, fondling her breasts. She couldn't even let out a yelp– her lungs were paralyzed around her terror-chilled heart. The men pawed her inner thighs, over her taut belly, down her back, up her neck, around her breasts – petting her whole transfixed body through her clothes.
"Oh god! What are they doing!?" Tara panicked. Their hands were so hot, and they pinched her ass and grabbed her breasts so forcefully, so eagerly. Tara tried to cross her legs, but powerful fingers pried between her tightened thighs anyway.
"Stop!" Tara cried out, "Get off me!"
Her protest fell on deaf ears. They boys had found their new toy. Roy spoke behind her, his chest pressing against her back.
"I told you Tara, I don't settle for just any girl. And it seems like you do want this..." She felt his hand slide up her thigh till it disappeared under her skirt. She jumped as his hot fingers ran across her hot, moist thong.
His chuckle reverberated through Tara's light frame, "I think you want this more than you're ready to admit!" He stroked along her wanting slit, and Tara's knees nearly buckled as she let out an involuntary moan.
"N-no! Get away from me!" Tara began to struggle, to break free from the groping men. But they were too strong for her, and it goaded them on. They lifted Tara's arms up and peeled off her t-shirt. Her skirt slid down her legs and pooled on the floor. Tara stood between them, only her lacy bra and pink thong to protect her. Their rough hands touched bare skin as she vainly tried to cover up and push them away.
Roy's voice played in her ear. "It's been awhile since we had an employer as sexy as you, Tara..." A hand grabbed her bare ass as another grasped one of her laced breasts, "or as ready to get fucked. We're pretty pent up, you know..." With a click, her bra went slack and fell to the ground. Roy cupped her bare tits from behind before she could cover them herself.
"Mmm, that feels so good..." Tara thought, despite her fear. Her alarmed gasp turned into a moan as those rough fingers toyed with her hardening nipples... "NO!" she back-thought, "What am I thinking!? I won't let them rape me!!" Her heart pounded in her chest, but she couldn't tell if it was from terror, or excitement.
"You're not going to fuck me, Roy!" She yelled, her heart jolting at the thought of Roy and the men taking her. She redoubled her struggle, trying to land a kick on the men holding her. They simply pressed closer.
"But of course I am, Tara. We all are..." The foreman replied as more rough fingers slid under her minute throng strings. The fabric clung to her sex before peeling away and dropping to the ground at her kicking feet. The three men felt in turn between her legs. Tara tried to lock her thighs in vain. No doubt they felt how wet she was getting, she knew. Tara felt her thighs loosening to let their pressing touches in despite herself...
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