A dishevelled looking stranger

You stagger slightly from the impact with the stranger, taking a moment to straighten before looking up and taking him in. To your surprise you are already well inside the park, off the main path and into one of the shadier corners that even as a guy you would be wary about walking through after dark. Mid morning though, you would happily stroll through here casually and sometimes even nod hello to one of the unfortunates that often sleep rough here. Now however, the area has a distinctly ominous vibe, especially as the man before you looms, leering maliciously down at you with a gap-toothed grin.

"Fuck love, let a man finish at least before ya try to jump his bones."

His eyes flick suggestively down and your gaze follows, your eyes widening as you take in his exposed cock, a rather big one at that, dribbling a few drops of piss onto the grass below (and a little splashing onto the leg of his filthy track pants).

"Can't a man fuckin piss in peace around here without some whore throwin herself at him any more?" the man spat with a dark chuckle.

Stunned, you quickly shake your head and take a step back, but the man's hand shoots out faster than you could have ever thought possible, gripping your slender wrist tightly.

"S-sorry..." you stammer weakly as you try to pull away but the man's grip is firm and he tugs you towards him in response.

"Relax little one, step into my abode... it's quite comfortable." the man crows mockingly as he begins to drag you into the nearby foliage which is scattered with piles of litter and junk.

"It's not much, but it's home." he chuckles as he watches you look about, "Now, down to business..."

Emboldened by your timid response, he takes your free hand and guides it to his exposed cock, your fingertips making contact - a sensation of soft, smooth, warm skin capped off with a trickle of moisture dribbling across your wrist. Your instinct is to pull away but something about the sensation of it all is overwhelming and your head spins. Suddenly you are painfully aware of the man's stench. Stale booze, B.O. and cigarettes, not to mention the piss. The combination is foul and repellant but also strangely intoxicating and as his musky male scent is added to the bouquet, activated by your wandering hand you feel light headed.

Wait. Wandering hand? Suddenly you realise your fingers, seemingly functioning with a mind of their own are now wrapped around the shaft of the vagrant's semi-erect cock, the throbbing, pulsing warmth of it urging you on to keep touching, keep feeling.

"Good girl..." the man coos, pulling you in tighter and you feel your resistance fading. You feel so ****, so small in the firm embrace of his wiry arms, the soft warmth of his growing erection against your hand a welcome distraction from the sight of his worn, stubbly face and wafting stench of his foul breath.

"That's it love... why dont you come in and take a seat and I'll show ya a good time? All the ladies love it... five minutes and you'll be begging for more. I swear."

You already know, but the insistent **** pulling you into the bushes is confirmation that the man is not really asking, he is about to take you deeper into his foul den and have his way with you. If you are going to escape that fate, now might be your only chance.