My parking space fetish story turned out to be 8 pages long, so I'll only post the last page here. If you want to read more, let me know. Now some nights, some foggy nights in the summer time, I tell my boyfriend I’m going out for drinks with my friends from work and instead drive out to the suburbs, return to that park near my mom’s house. I bring a yellow condom, choose a thick, long rock of cement from the parking space, the space I squatted in the night I watched Mary fuck the old man, and I peel the condom over the rock with a snap of latex. I pull down my pants and underwear, lie on my back in the center of the space, between the safe confines of the yellow lines. I cram the rock inside my pussy, the sharp edges scraping my pillowy vaginal walls through the condom as I work it in and out. I groan softly, the pain and hardness stirs my insides to burst out in violent orgasm. My pussy cream collects in globs of goo on the condom, the way the old man’s semen did. Sometimes the condom will break and chunks of gravel will crumble off the rock and get stuck deep inside me, up near the curve of my cervix. For weeks, I’ll find sparkling gems of asphalt on the toilet paper after I wipe myself. When I am finished, I lie there, sweat cooling off my forehead, the gravel of the parking space pressing into my bare ass, an oil stain soaking the back of my shirt. I stare up at the fog, the green trees and the black sky. I start to wish Mary would have been there to watch me please and hurt myself in this space, in this empty parking space, this geometric temple of pleasure, so she could sneer at me and tell me how gross I am and I could blush again.
Next is the dust bunny fetish. I promise that one won't be so gross.
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