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Intruder

By: Dartagnan



The fresh spring air filled her lungs as she maintained her pace. The sun had just set in the soft western sky and as predicted, it looked to be a very clear night again. The more brilliant stars were beginning to let themselves be seen and the crescent moon twinkled in the evening twilight. She slowed her pace to a soft walk, beginning her cool down before reaching home. As she turned the corner at Elmwood, she felt the chill of the night against the sweat that covered her neck. Pulling her hood up over her long auburn hair, she quickened her pace to the house. She arrived to the door just as she heard her the neighbor's dog barking insistently. A soft 'Be quiet' and the dog seemed to listen but he was not happy about something and seemed very restless.

She opened the door to the house and was suddenly aware that she had not used her key. One of her harebrained roommates had left the door unlocked, again! Sometimes she wished she didn't have to have them, but between the rent and student loan payments, her salary didn't always make do. She removed the ballcap that she always ran in, a gift from a very dear friend, pulled her hood up over her head as she headed for her room, and ultimately her shower. She climbed the stairs, something that was very difficult during her recovery. She entered her bedroom, just off the computer room, and tossed her sweatshirt into the dirty clothesbasket. Well, NEAR the clothesbasket anyway. The Nike sports bra was also soaked from her run. She sat in the edge of the bed untying her running shoes and slowly removed them and rubbed her socked feet. They were only a little tender compared to the first week after she started running again. She removed her socks and let them fall on top of the sweatshirt. Her running sweatpants came off next as she headed for the bathroom and the warmth and refreshment of the hot shower awaiting her. As she passed by the mirror she caught herself glancing into it. Not bad. But then again she always did have a pretty nice body. Running track in high school and she took care of herself, refusing to let herself go to pot.

Entering the bathroom she flipped on the light and fan, reached in and began the hot water of the shower. Steam was coming out of the shower area when she removed her bra and workout shorts. The matching dark green set was her favorite. Letting them fall to the floor she climbed in under the showerhead sitting in its holder above her head. The handheld shower massager was one of the best things she had ever invested in. It worked on everything, sore muscles, great for rinsing her thick hair, and even when she needed some special attention for other parts of her body. She was remembering the need to feel that massager one night not too long ago after talking with a very special friend on the computer. She had let him know that she was in a very aroused mood and he had responded by sending her the most erotic messages she had ever received. That night she was very glad to have a lot of hot water!

The hot shower felt wonderful and as she washed her, she was delighted to feel the strength growing back in her calves. She began to soap her legs, starting on her thighs and then running her hands down each calf, then back up over her thighs...as she bent over the warm water ran right down between her tight little ass cheeks, right over her sensitive ass. The sensations got the best of her and as she straightened up...her hand came up to her soft mound of hair and she began to gently wash herself with the natural sponge. As much as she loved the feel of the sponge on her sensitive areas, she could hardly wait for the feel of the warm jets from her handheld massager.

Placing one foot up on the edge of the tub, she began to rinse the soapy film off her body. First, her chest, the pulsing jets against her hardening nipples sent ripples of pleasure down her spine, then down her stomach to the soft mound of hair below. After rinsing her legs completely, she brought the spray back up to her very wet nether lips. Gently spreading them with your fingers, she directed the warm pulses right onto her hardened clit. The intensity was almost more than she could handle. She leaned against the wall of the shower as she redirected the pulses right at the sensitive inner lips exposed by her fingers. Waves of pleasure begin to spread across her body. The orgasm started to hit her and she cried out softly, almost biting her lip as she moved the water back up to her clit. The moment the first pulse made contact with her spasming clit; she could not hold back the deep moan.

She barely stopped herself from collapsing on to the floor of the shower. The sensations caused colors to stream across her eyes as she squeezed them shut with the waves of pleasure rushing through her body. She shut the shower off and reached out to the large yellow bath towel awaiting her on the railing just outside the shower door. The steam had fogged all the mirrors in the bathroom and she felt totally refreshed, although a little tired. She realized she was smiling, and a warm glow covered her chest as she thought about how far she had come in these last few months. She used the soft terry material to dry herself and paying very special attention to the sensitive areas on her body. The soft blotting of the towel felt wonderful. She opened to door into her bedroom and walked over to the bureau. After the first step, a movement caught the corner of her eye and she froze. Across the dark room, it moved again.

"Damn!" She exclaimed, as she exhaled loudly and walked over to shut the window that looked over the small yard to the rear of the house. The movement of the curtain had stopped her in her tracks and with her heart racing, she scolded herself for being so jumpy. It had been a hot day and her roommates had obviously opened the window to the back of the house to get air circulating. Funny, she hadn't noticed it being open before her shower. She waved it off with thoughts of fatigue from her run and her eagerness to get under that hot water. With her long, auburn hair in a fresh towel around her head, she walked over the bureau. As she opened the thin drawer that held the soft boxer shorts, adorned with the smiling face of Pooh, she loved to wear to bed, a strong hand grabbed her from behind. Fear struck at her heart as her eyes widened at the sight in the mirror of the dark clad man holding her tight against him. One hand over her mouth, stopping the cry that emitted from her lips and the other around her waist, easily holding her as if she were a ragdoll.

She struggled but his grip got tighter. "Don't scream or fight me, and you will live through this!" The suddenness of his words and the strength of his voice in her ear sent shivers down her spine. The sudden realization of her nakedness and the warm hardness she felt against her lower back fueled the terror behind her eyes as hers were locked with his. He was dressed entirely in black. A ski mask covered his face, leaving holes for his piercing emerald eyes.

His breath against her ear sent chills right to her core as he told her, "Don't be so surprised. I have been watching you for a long time now. You have sensed me there so many times that you grew used to feel of my eyes on your body. You know inside that you enjoyed feeling my presence around you, like the gargoyle that stands over the great cathedral, like a guardian. Knowing you were protected, but afraid of the protector. I see inside you, past all the walls you use to keep everyone else away from the hidden chambers in your mind and the deep secrets that burn in your heart."

His voice captivates her mind. She feels he is correct with all that he said but her mind refuses to surrender. Her eyes break contact as she glances down at the top of the bureau in front of her. His glance follows hers and they happen upon the letter opener at the same time. His grip tightens, "Don't even think about it." The thought leaves her mind as quickly as it came.

He picked her up and carried her roughly to the bed. Pushing her down onto the bed face down, covering her with his body. She cannot hardly move, let alone fight back. He is much bigger and stronger than she is. He removes the towel from around her head, letting her wet hair fall across her face. Even in this particular light and circumstance, he cannot help his breath catching at her beauty.

Once he has removed every bit of cover she has, he places a black silk scarf around her head, covering her eyes. She strains to see, but to no avail. She feels him lift his body off of her but maintaining his grip. Placing her hands over her head, she feels his wrap a strong but smooth rope of some kind around her wrists. She immediately begins to struggle but his strong grip and sharp, "Stop", halts her every move. She realizes he has total control and that she is at his mercy.

The realization that her body is responding with excitement sets off a war in her mind. How can she enjoy this? This man was taking her will away, yet somehow, she did not feel her life was in danger. In fact, his words from before began to haunt her mind. "Is he familiar?" "Have I felt him as a presence in my world?" "Does he see past my walls?" Over the years, she had placed so many there, not allowing anyone to deter her from her goals. Graduating college, becoming a professional, and yes, even ensuring she was not dependent on another. She promised herself that she would always be able to take care of herself.

The sudden shift of the bed brought her mind racing back to her current situation. With her hands securely fastened over her head to the bed and the blindfold in place, he lifted himself off the bed and her. He stood there, looking down on her beautiful body. Admiring God's work. How he had longed for this time, this very day. She shivered as he used his fingertip to trace from her heel up the backside of her leg. His touch trailed off to nothing as he moved up her thigh. Closing her mouth tight quickly stifled a cry of disappointment inside her head.

Refusing to let him know that her body was beginning to awaken. She could hear his smile and she realized that he could see the goosebumps she now felt across her thighs. She felt him reach down and lift her calf up, bending her leg at the knee.

"Ohhhhhhhhh", she cried out as he kissed her soft instep. A soft warm mouth in an area that was so sensitive. She tried to pull her foot away but the leverage and grip of his hand could not be overcome. She heard his laugh as he begin to kiss it again, this time letting his warm, wet tongue begin to tease and travel to her toes. She began to shake as a low moan left her mouth. The very second that he took a toe into his mouth and began to suck on it gently, electric shock shook her body from her foot to her head, especially right through her wetting pussy.

"OH GOD!" she exclaimed. He knew that she could hardly stand this intimate attack on a particular sensitive area, so he began to kiss up the backside of her leg. Each kiss followed by a soft stroke of a warm tongue against her soft skin. As he approached the very sensitive backside of her knee, her legs involuntarily parted slightly. This simple action amused him as much as it surprised her. That her body would betray her so easily shocked her so much.

She could feel the wetness between her legs and knew with the parting of her legs, he could see the dewy moisture forming on her sweet pussy lips. In fact, he was so close he could now smell the intoxicating aroma of her arousal. Her breath came in gasps as his tongue softly stroked the area behind her knee. She could not keep her hips still as his fingers began to trace up her inner thighs. His warm mouth followed his fingers and began to nibble and lick the sensitive area. As his mouth came closer to her now very wet lips, his hands moved to her ass. Each hand grasped tightly a very firm cheek and squeezed gently as he blow a warm breath across your sensitive nether lips. She moaned loudly as the sensations filled her mind with bright lights. Even though she was blindfolded, she squeezed her eyes shut with the sensations running through her body. She was trembling uncontrollably and when his tongue, wide and flat, came in contact with her eager pussy for the first time, she could hear a loud moan, almost animalistic. It seemed like seconds, but was really just immediate when she realized that noise was coming from her mouth.

Her first orgasm shattered any thoughts of maintaining some sort of dignity and decorum. She screamed into her pillow as wave upon wave hit her like electric shock! Oh how he loves feeding off the power she was giving him. He controlled her pleasure, he decided how much, how little. He quickly swallowed as much of her overflowing juices as he could; the taste was so sweet. Her nectar ran down his chin and she slowly came back to earth.

Intruder



Last summer, I spent a lot of time talking with the neighbor girl across the street. She is about 28, married, maybe 120 pounds, around 5' 10" tall, long blond hair, fantastic body for a married lady. nice husband, and three small children. A wonderful family, to the casual observer. But as we became closer, she confided in me that there was something missing in her marriage, something she couldn't understand. 

Her husband was somewhat unimaginative in the lovemaking department, always the same thing, and she was turning to fantasy for excitement. By the time we got to be close friends, she felt comfortable enough to tell me that she had fantasies about being raped in her own house, by an intruder wearing a ski mask, and the guy forced her to engage in a variety of sex acts with him at knifepoint. The idea excited her, and she was ashamed that she could have these dreams when her marriage was otherwise great.

She and I talked at length about her fantasy. She explained in detail about exactly what happened, that she had accidentally left the back door unlocked, and that she suddenly woke up to find a guy sitting on her chest, with a knife in his hand. We discussed why she would have that fantasy, why she wanted something different in her life. I explained that it was perfectly normal to feel the way she did, that everyone has such fantasies, but very few people ever express them to anyone, and even fewer ever have their fantasy actually happen.

She looked at me with her big brown eyes, and held my arm, saying "Well, it's a wonderfully exciting dream to have! I hope you can have a dream like that sometime..."

Nothing more was said about it for a few weeks, and we remained close friends. One day she told me her husband was going to be gone on a business trip for the rest of the week, and then she started talking about how safe our little town is, that she felt safe enough to leave her back door unlocked, and that her bedroom is the one to the left at the top of the stairs. As she said that, she stared into my eyes. Nothing more was said about it.

That night, I decided to make her fantasy come true. I gathered a small bag of toys, and at five minutes till one, walked over to her back door. I was wearing only a t shirt, jeans, and a ski mask. I had put on one of those voice changers. It's the kind that kids play with, that makes you sound like Darth Vader. Just as I expected, the door was unlocked. I quietly slipped inside, creeping carefully through the kitchen. In the moonlight I saw a wooden block full of kitchen knives, and grabbed a large one. Knife in hand, I crept up the stairs, and through the open door to the left. She was sleeping soundly, flat on her back, the blanket up to her neck.

I jumped astraddle her chest, and held my hand over her mouth. She woke up with a start, and struggled. 

I whispered to her, in a robot-like voice, "I have a knife, don't make me use it! I'm going to fuck you, bitch, for the next several hours, whether you like it or not. Now, I'm going to take away my hand, and you are going to decide if I have to kill you or not. Either way, you're fucked. You must be very quiet if you want to come out of this alive."

I carefully started to remove my hand, and she started to scream. I covered her mouth again before she made a sound. It was time to show her I was serious. I held the knife in front of her face, the tip perilously close to a point right between her eyes. Her eyes got really big, and she stopped struggling. 

I asked her, "now, bitch, are you going to fuck me without any struggle?" She shook her head yes, with a sigh of resignation.

It was now 1am, and we had at least 5 hours for uninterrupted sex before any of the kids would wake up. I would be gone long before that.

She was shaking now, tears rolling down her cheeks. I motioned for her to sit up, and she sat, moving to the side of the bed, her feet on the floor. 

She looked very somber and resigned. She asked me to please close the door, and I did. I said, "You're going to be alright, I'm not going to hurt you or your kids. We are going to practice safe sex, and I won't leave any evidence behind. Understand?" She shook her head yes.

"Now, I want you to stand up, and strip for me," I ordered, motioning with the knife.

She slowly stood, moving over to the middle of the floor, and very slowly started to peel off her long nightshirt, pulling it up over her belly, slowly up her chest, revealing her breasts, the nipples starting to harden in the cool air. She pulled it over her head, and tossed it aside, defiantly staring into my eyes. She wore only white cotton bikini panties now, cut high on the hip, held together with only a narrow band of elastic.

"Now stand in that doorway, spread your legs so your feet are against each side, and grab the door frame with your hands, arms spread above your head," I ordered. She quickly complied, her eyes never leaving mine.

Her body was fantastic in the soft light from the hallway. Her breasts were not large, but were very nicely shaped, with large areoles, and her nipples were small. her long narrow torso flared into smoothly rounded hips. Her legs were long and slim, looking very smooth and firm, only slightly muscular. Her body was that of a woman much younger.

I bent to lick her left nipple, she shuddered as my tongue touched her. I held the knife point to her throat, and warned her not to move. My tongue circled her nipple, then my lips closed over it, sucking it slowly inside my mouth. I heard her moan softly. I kissed and licked my way over to the other breast, giving it the same treatment. She threw her head back, and I heard her softly moaning. As I sucked, her nipples got harder and harder, until they were sticking out nearly a half inch.

Her arms were still stretched out to the door frame, her feet against each side, her thighs apart. The knife still at her throat, I reached down and placed my hand over her mound and began rubbing her pussy through the soft cotton, slowly up and down, applying just a little pressure with the palm of my hand. She moaned softly, her head moving slowly from side to side, eyes closed. I slowly slid the knife down her chest, between her breasts, down her soft smooth belly, and slid the point inside the waistband of her panties. Sliding the blade around to the side, I then turned the knife so the blade was away from her, and quickly sliced through the elastic, on her left side. The cloth fell away, still supported by the other side, most of her belly exposed now. Keeping the knife in contact with her skin, I slid it around to the other side, and sliced that elastic as well. As soon as I did, the panties fluttered to the floor between her feet. 

I slowly slid the knife around to the front of her belly, then lower, touching the flat of the blade along her skin, the cold steel causing her to shiver as it touched the wetness of her pussy lips. I slowly slid the knife up her body to her neck once again, holding it there, while my other hand carressed her pussy lips, sliding a finger between them, dipping it into her moistness. With a sharp intake of breath, she moaned quietly,"OH my GOD!" I slipped my finger up inside her, moving it around, exploring the inside of her pussy, always applying a constant pressure against her mound, and she continued to moan softly, almost a whisper.

My face was directly in front of hers. she once again opened her eyes, and our eyes locked together as I touched her intimately. I moved my thumb to touch her clitoris, as one finger explored inside her pussy. My thumb slid over it, then circled it, rubbing it up and down, as the finger inside her moved in all directions. The inside of her pussy felt like soft, warm, wet velvet as my finger probed and explored every crevice and fold. Almost imperceptibly, she began rocking her hips, in time with my hand, always moaning, and I pulled out my finger, keeping the knife at her throat, and backed away a bit.

I said "Now, keep your feet where they are, and take both hands and play with yourself. Make yourself cum!" I had relaxed the pressure of the knife point against her throat, and when I said that, her eyes flew open wide, and she shook her head no. She did not move her arms. I took the knife and scraped the point across her chest, above her right breast, and scratched her, drawing blood. "Now do it!" I ordered. She shook her head yes, and moved both hands to her belly. I sat on the side of the bed, just a few feet away, and watched.

"Give me a good show, now, and I won't have to slice you open, bitch!" I said. "Cum for me!" She slid her right hand over her belly, lower, into her pubic hair, then slipped a finger inside herself. She looked me right in the eye, defiantly, as she played with her own pussy. I gazed back into her eyes. She moved her left hand up to cup her left breast, the fingers pinching her nipple, carressing her breast. She was getting into it, her right hand moving up and down over her pussy, one finger inside her hot pussy, sliding in and out slowly, then another finger joined the first. Her left hand was moving from one breast to the other, kneading and pinching her nipples. 

She moaned, and her eyes got big, as her pace quickened, her entire right hand was getting wet from her juices. She started rocking back and forth, trying to keep her balance as she jerked herself off standing up in the doorway.

She started to groan, a muffled sound "mmm, mmm, mmmmmmhhhhh!!!! as she came, still staring into my eyes, unflinching, defiant.

"Go into the bathroom and sit on the counter" I said, and she turned toward the bathroom, dutifully climbing onto the counter, sitting there quietly. I turned on the lights, and said "Now, I'm going to shave your pussy, and you are going to help." she pointed to the cabinet on the left, and I opened the door, and found a bic razor and can of shaving cream.

I told her to scoot over the edge of the counter, and she complied, spreading her thighs wide apart without having to be told. She lay back along the counter, her pussy next to the sink, and I began to spread shaving cream over her pubic hair.

I slowly and carefully began shaving her, being careful not to nick her soft velvety skin. I rinsed the razor in the sink a few times, and soon was finished. I grabbed a towel and wiped her pussy clean. She would have some explaining to do when her husband made love to her, and discovered her pussy was clean shaven. Bet he likes it!

"Back into the bedroom" I commanded, and followed her there.

I stood in front of her, and said "Now, I want you to take my clothes off, all of them" She began to undress me, starting with my shirt, then the jeans. As she pulled them down, I said "Now, suck my dick, and pretend to like it!" She made no attempt to protest, making her masturbate for me had broken her spirit, she would do anything I asked now.

She stayed on her knees, looking up at me with a disgusted look, but complying. The knife was still in my left hand, and I kept it pointed in her direction. She took my stiff cock in her hands, and slowly moved her lips toward it. "Touch it with your tongue!" I said, and she stuck out the tip of her tongue, and touched the tip of my cock. "Now suck on it, you know how, make it look like you're enjoying it."

She closed her lips over the head, sucking it inside her mouth, her tongue swirling around it inside her mouth. She sucked it deeper inside her mouth, her cheeks caving in. "I want it all the way down your throat!" I said, and she shook her head no, her mouth moving my cock from side to side as she moved, looking up with big eyes. "Yes, bitch! do it now!" I said, as I held the knife next to her cheek so she could see it. She took my cock deeper, gagging and choking on it, but going back for more. She deep throated me like a pro, sliding her lips all the way up and down my shaft, the head going down her throat, the muscles in her throat massaging the head of my cock each time she gagged. 

"I want you to play with yourself, and make yourself cum," I said. "put a finger in your pussy, now!" 

She complied, slowly working it inside herself, apparently something she had some experience with before tonight. She stroked herself in time with her lips on my cock, then without further prompting, she inserted a second finger into her pussy.

"I'm going to cum and you're not going to stop, you will swallow all of it, and lick me dry!" I announced. I grabbed her hair and held her head in place, pulling her mouth down hard on my cock, as I watched her eyes grow big in disbelief. Then in the next few strokes, I began shooting hot liquid down her throat, and into her mouth. As she swallowed, choking it down, she continued to suck the cum out of my cock. She slowed down, her fingers still inside herself. I said "Make yourself cum, now! DO IT!!!!" I pulled my cock away from her mouth, and she stayed there, on her knees, her hand rapidly shoving two fingers up her cunt, she began to moan, quietly, "Oh, oh, oh, OH GOD!!!!" as she reached her orgasm, my cum dripping from the corners of her mouth. As she finished, her body involuntarily shook, and she looked down, ashamed of herself.

I waved the knife toward the bed, "get on the bed, on your back" and she got up, and laid back on the bed. " I want your feet on the floor, and your ass on the edge of the bed" I ordered. She scooted over to the edge, putting her feet on the floor, laying across the bed sideways, her ass just on the edge. "Now spread your legs wide apart, put your hands over your head." I said, as I took a kneeling position between her legs. She laid back, eyes closed, hands stretched above her head. 

I slowly began stroking the warm firm flesh of her thighs with the backs of my fingers, starting at her knees, moving slowly up her slim thighs, moving around the front of her thighs, and around to the backs, carressing the silky soft smooth skin, slowly working my hands up closer and closer to her pussy. My fingers now began to brush her smooth shaven pussy, gently, slowly moving closer to her moist core.

She softly moaned, "Oh.... Ohhhh... mmmmmmmm..."

My fingers parted her pussy lips, then slowly moved inside her. Using the index finger from each hand, I slipped them deeper inside her pussy, wet from her own juices. I moved my mouth closer, and closed my lips over her clit, sucking it barely inside, my tongue flicking it rapidly. She made a quick intake of breath, "AAAhhhh" My fingers were now pumping in and out of her depths, slick with her own wetness. 

Licking her pussy was making my cock hard again, and I rolled a condom over it. As I licked and finger-fucked her, she began another orgasm, this one stronger than the first. She began throwing her head from side to side, quietly moaning, then a slow rocking motion of her hips, her pelvis rotating her pussy up toward my mouth, pushing herself onto my tongue.

She was lost in the throes of orgasm now, oblivious to everything else. She rocked and groaned, and I kept my mouth planted on her, continuing to lick and suck her pussy as she came strongly, almost violently. She struggled to keep it as quiet as possible.

While she was still cumming, her eyes closed, I moved to my feet, leaning over and sliding my hard cock inside her throbbing pussy, deep into her wetness. As she was thrashing around, my cock could feel the contractions of her orgasm gripping, milking, pulling it deeper inside her warm wet pussy. "OH MY GODDDDD!" she quietly said. I began thrusting in and out of her, all the way from tip to base, sliding my hard cock the full length of her hot wet pussy, and in a few more strokes, I began to shoot my hot load deep inside her. She raised her legs and wrapped them around me, locking her ankles behind by thighs, using her feet to pull me deeper inside her, her legs locking me to her, pulling my cock deep inside her.

She kept her arms over her head, just as I had instructed her to do. Then she cried out once again, just a quiet little gasp, her head rolling side to side, saying "oh, oh, oh, oh god, oh, oh!!!!" as her orgasm continued with renewed pitch, and I filled the condom inside her.

As her orgasm slowly subsided, she unlocked her ankles from around my back, and slowly lowered her feet to the floor, turning her head to the side to avoid looking at me in the dim light. She began sobbing. She was obviously ashamed that she had enjoyed being raped as much as she did.

"Now get up on the bed, on your hands and knees!" I ordered, as I pulled my limp cock out of her, and pulled off the filled condom. She quickly moved into position, burying her head in a pillow, her ass in the air, knees spread for balance. I climbed on the bed and got on my knees, as I rolled a fresh condom on my cock. I placed my knees between her legs, putting my hands on her hips, moving her ass back and forth, showing her the motion I wanted. her rounded hips flared into her long narrow back, her shoulders and head down against the pillow, her hair splayed out around her. Her wet pussy lips were exposed between her thighs, with her tiny asshole just above.

With one hand, I held my cock and rubbed it against her pussy, then slowly inserted it between her lips. The heat coming from her pussy was incredible, she was extremely hot and wet. Leaning forward and moving my hands to her shoulders, I pulled her toward me, shoving my cock into her wetness, only about an inch at first. Slowly back out, and in again, over and over, in a slow and sensuous motion, each time a tiny bit deeper. My cock felt the heat of her as her lips parted to take it deep within her, her pussy caressing every inch as it slipped deeper into her hot wet depths. 

As my cock began to slip between her pussy lips, she moaned softly into the pillow, "OH GOD!!!! OH OH OH OH..... OHHHHH GODDDDD!!!!

Soon I was taking very long slow strokes, slowly all the way in, and slowly all the way out, then in again, all the way to the bottom. As I fucked her from the rear, I reached down to my bag on the edge of the bed, and picked up the egg vibrator I had laid there, along with the jar of vaseline. I opened the jar, and dipped the vibrator inside, covering the tip of it with a large glob of the grease. I then pushed the vibrator toward her asshole, as I continued to fuck her from behind. I used the vibrator to smear vaseline around her asshole, then placed the tip of it against her asshole. As I fucked her, I slowly pushed it harder, and forced the tip past her anus. The tiniest movements, in and out, a tiny bit deeper each time, as my cock continued to slide slowly in and out full length. The vibrator no more than three inches long, egg shaped, rounded on both ends, and was remotely controlled, wireless. It was not a lot bigger than the single size C flashlight battery that was inside it. 

I kept a constant pressure on the vibrator, pushing it slowly inside her ass each time she pushed back against my cock as I fucked her from the rear. With one finger I pushed it completely inside her, and her greasy asshole went completely closed behind it. The only way to remove it was for her to squeeze it out. 

With my hands on her hips, I guided her back and forth, her wet slick sheath sliding up and down my cock, as I filled her, and withdrew, time after time, in and out, never stopping. I reached down and picked up the remote control, and switched the vibrator on low. I laid the remote on her ass, in the small of her back, and put both hands back on her hips, my fingers circling her narrow waist. She immediately raised her head up off the pillow, and raised herself up on her arms, pushing back against me harder, moaning softly.

My cock could feel the vibrations, as her pussy squeezed me, pulsating. I fucked her in this position for a while, and she began to push back against my motions, increasing the exquisite pressure of my cock inside her. 




Intruder



I turned it to medium speed, and I could immediately feel the increased vibrations against my cock. She began to move faster, bucking back against me, slamming her pussy back toward my cock each time I began to withdraw. She threw her head back, softly moaning, trying her best to be as quiet as possible.

I flipped it up to high, and she went spastic, bucking and writhing beneath me, shoving hard against me, trying to get my cock inside her deeper. She became a wild woman, bucking and thrusting, unable to get enough of my cock.

I felt the cum churning in my balls, slowly working it's way up to my cock, as she softly yelled out "Ohhhhhhhhhh, ooooohhhhhhhhhh, aaaaaahhhhhhh! Ohhhh, GOD!!!!!!! Ohhhhhhh ggggggggodddddddd! I'm cumming!!!! Oh, oh, oh, oh, oooooohhhhhhhh GOD!!!!! OH, OH, OH, FUCK ME, FUCK ME!!!! PLEASE FUCK ME!!! FUCK ME HARDER!!!!!! PLEASE FUCK ME.....NOW!!!!!"

And she pushed hard against me, stopping all motion, her pussy throbbing, milking my cock, pulsating, pulling my cock deeper inside her. My cock began shooting hot cum into her, wave after wave of the hot liquid, filling her. Her body was locked in position, shoved hard against me, as her pussy pulsated, milking me, as she was lost in the throes of what was probably the most intense orgasm she had ever known. I shut off the vibrator.

She held this position for several minutes, as the pulsating of her pussy gradually subsided, and my cock finally quit squirting hot cum inside her, and began to shrink. She collapsed to the bed, and I followed her, lying on top of her backside. I pulled my cock out of her, and rolled away, the remote control in my hand.

I pulled off the filled condom, and, rolling her over onto her back, I climbed astraddle her chest once again. She was breathing very hard and fast, covered with a light sheen of sweat over her entire body, she was satiated. I placed my soft cock to her lips, sitting on her chest, my legs pinning her arms down. She was too weak to move anyway, and had no choice but to take my cock between her lips, and suck it inside her mouth.

As she began giving me a soft, slow, sensous blowjob, I turned the vibrator on to low, and her eyes flew open wide, staring at me. She looked so helpless and innocent looking up at me with those big brown eyes, her mouth filled with my cock as it pumped in and out past her wet lips, her cheeks sucking in and puffing out as she sucked it in and out of her mouth. As she sucked, the vibrator in her ass continued sending sparks through her pussy.

I moved my legs and freed her arms, and she moved her hands to slide over my thighs, caressing my belly, and holding my cock as it slid in and out of her mouth. She tentatively moved one hand to my balls, carefully fondling them, weighing them with her cupped fingers as she sucked my cock into her mouth.

After just a few minutes of her sensous lips on my cock, it began to get hard again. When it was rock hard once again, I moved down, stretching out over her body, as she watched me, never taking her eyes off mine. After I rolled a fresh condom onto my cock, I bent down to kiss her lips, she turned her head away. I held her face with both hands, pushing her back, and kissed her lips, softly, gently. She tried to ignore me, but soon gave in, and kissed me back. 

She began to give me a warm sensous kiss, and, as she did, she pushed me over onto my back, and moved to sit astraddle me. I complied, letting her sit on my belly. She looked down at me, staring me right in the eyes, and said in a throaty voice, "time for you to get fucked now, asshole..." She had grabbed the knife, and held the point to my throat, softly saying "don't try to move, or I'll kill you, you fucking asshole!"

With both her hands on my chest, her left hand holding the knife point to my throat, she moved down my body, straddling my legs. Her wet pussy found my hard cock, and she impaled herself with it, sliding over the full length of it in one fluid motion, burying it deep inside herself. Her mound was pressed against mine, my cock filling her, totally hidden inside her hot wet pussy. My cock could feel the gentle vibrations from the vibrator in her ass. Damn, I thought, where the hell is the remote? I felt the tip against her cervix, and she began a slow, soft, sensuous movement, back and forth, rocking, not sliding in and out, but forward and back, putting pressure against my cock, using it to rub her own clitoris. 

Our eyes were locked together, both of us staring, unflinching, deeply into the other's eyes.

Her thighs were spread wide apart as she sat on me, knees bent back, feet at her sides. She was leaning slightly forward, her hands on my chest, the knife in one hand, held against my throat. She rocked herself back and forth, never raising up, just the constant pressure of her pussy pushing against the top side of my cock. I had never been fucked like this in my life, and I was enjoying it immensely. She was masturbating herself on my cock.

With her free hand, she reached over to pick up the remote, and moved it to medium. The intensity of the vibrations seemed to double, and she was apparently enjoying this very much. Now she began to slowly lift herself up off me, sliding her pussy up over my cock, only a few inches, then slowly back down again, until the cheeks of her ass once again rested on my thighs.

She began to throw her head back, as she rocked and slid up and down on me, she softly moaned out " oh, oh, oh!!!" Then she turned the remote to high.

That's when all hell broke loose! She pounded her pussy against me, bobbing up and down, riding me, fucking my cock as hard and as fast as she possibly could.

Both her hands still rested on my chest, the left holding the knife, point against my chin. I didn't care about that, I reached for her hips, guiding her movements, my hands sliding around her ass, pulling her pussy hard against me.

She looked into my eyes, and said "Fuck me now, asshole, make me cum!" "do it now!" she said quietly and firmly. She continued to slide her hot wet pussy up and down my hard cock, the juices making it glisten in the soft moonlight each time she raised up.

She said firmly "Cum NOW you fucking bastard! FUCK ME NOW!!!!! CUM INSIDE ME OR I'LL SLICE YOUR FUCKING COCK OFF!!!!"

This was too much for me, I couldn't help but shoot my cum into her, filling her, and she, too, began to moan and buck wildly on my cock, as she began an earth-shattering orgasm. Squirt after squirt of hot liquid filled her, as she wildly rode my spasming cock. Both of us were covered with a sheen of perspiration, wet and slick.

When she finally settled down, she collapsed on top of me, then rolled off to one side, the knife still in her hand. Her eyes were closed, she was breathing heavily, and apparently drifting off to sleep, the vibrating egg buzzing away in her ass.

Not sure what to make of this turn of events, I thought it best to grab my pants and shirt while I was able, and get out of there. She didn't stir, and as I left the room the smell of sex was heavy in the air. I was home before two hours had passed.

The next morning, she was outside with her kids, as usual, and I was not sure if I should talk to her or run the other way. She saw me and smiled, calling out her usual friendly "hello." She motioned for me to come over as if nothing had happened, and whispered to me, "I had the most wonderful dream last night!" as she gave me a coy grin.....

She said "I wish I could have that same dream again every night for the rest of the week, and it's only Tuesday! I can't wait to see what I dream about tonight."

I wasn't sure if I wanted to see another knife quite that soon...



Intruder



Kat turned onto her side and reached out for the shrilling telephone on the bedside cabinet. The room was dark, the luminous digits on her bedside clock showing that it was a little after two in the morning. Kat's heart was stilled for a moment as she wondered what could be so urgent that someone would phone her. Sleepily, she lifted the receiver and held it close to her ear. The receiver was silent, save for the slightest hiss of an open line.

"Hello. Hello?" Kat said into the mouthpiece.

Still the only sounds in her ear were the whisper of an open connection and the throb of her heartbeat. She swallowed, and lifted herself into a sitting position. The room felt cold, as though a window had been opened, letting a cool current of air into the room. Her eyes slowly widened and she looked around, picking out the glimmer of starlight on the dressing table mirror and the glint of the handle on the door to the landing. 

"Soon." a voice whispered from the earpiece in her hand.

There came the metallic click of a disconnection and the low burr of a dial tone. Nervously, Kat replaced the receiver and looked around the room again, reaching for the switch of her bedside lamp. Before her fingers could push the button, a blinding shaft of light stabbed out from the corner of the room, dazzling her painfully. Kat lifted her hand to shield her watering eyes from the beam. A voice, that she recognised from the telephone call of a moment ago growled from behind the torch that was being shone into her eyes.

"Don't move." the voice commanded.

Kat froze, her hand halfway to her face, and screwed her eyes into slits. The light moved closer, bobbing a little, but still blinding her. Prickles of fear made the hair stand on the back of her neck and beads of icy sweat formed at the base of her throat and slid slowly between her breasts. The chill air made her nipples tighten, pressing against the silk of her red pyjamas. She could feel the air move, as a hand and arm appeared in the backwash of the torch beam, and smell a mixture of dust and cheap cologne. She sat, paralysed with fear, as the hand lifted a bag and pulled it down, over her head. She felt a cord being tightened around her throat, not tight enough to strangle her, but closing the bottom of the bag, so that all she could see was the wash of light on the cloth.

"W-w-what do you want?" Kat stuttered.

"Just do as you're told and everything will be fine." the voice whispered in her ear.

Kat trembled as she felt the bed sink a little from the weight of somebody lowering themselves onto the mattress. Unseen fingers plucked at the buttons holding her pyjama jacket closed and she felt the silk sliding over her skin. Rough, calloused hands pushed the jacket off her shoulders, so that it fell in a heap on the bed behind her. Kat bit her lip and tried not to cringe away as the hands reached for her and ran over the rounded, velvety skin of her belly, moving upwards until she could feel his fingers caressing her breasts. Kat shivered as his hands curved about the taut globes, lifting them and kneading them in his palms. His touch was gentle, contrasting with the rough calluses on his palms and, despite her fear, Kat found her nipples hardening, poking erectly from the puffy islands of her aureoles. The fingers slid over the swell of her breast, tracing circles around the base of her nipples, moving closer to the hard points. Kat moaned into the cloth over her face, as the fingers closed around her nipples, pulling on the hard points and twisting them until they felt bruised and tender. Kat moaned into the cloth over her face, biting her lip to keep from crying out.

The hand moved lower, his fingers gripping her waist firmly, and she felt hot breath warming her nipple and moist lips gripping it firmly. The tip of his tongue lashed against the hard point, flicking it and Kat shuddered, feeling her pussy starting to moisten. She felt him sucking on her nipple, drawing it into his mouth and stretching it, almost painfully, then nipping the point with the edge of his teeth. Kat groaned in the back of her throat as her pussy flooded with her juices again, staining the crotch of her pyjama pants. 

He took hold of her hands and pulled them forward, pushing her back onto the bed, so that she was laid flat. She felt his weight shift on the bed and her hips were pinned, as he straddled her. He guided her hands towards his body and she felt something thick and hot brushing against her fingertips. Closing her hands, she took hold of his cock, feeling the heat and hardness of his erect shaft. Kat closed her eyes and slowly moved her hands along the hot, hard flesh. The swollen tip was slippery from the pre-cum that had oozed from the eye and she could feel his shaven balls heavy and tight, beneath the base of his shaft. 

His fingers hooked in the waistband of her pyjama pants and he tugged at them, trying to work them under the cheeks of her ass. After a moment he stopped and Kat heard a strange, metallic click in the darkness. A moment later, she felt an icy touch of steel against her skin and heard the whisper of a knife blade, slicing through the silk covering her pussy and thighs. She felt the tattered ruins of her pyjama pants being pulled down, leaving her naked, except for the hood. Kat's mouth was dry and she could taste her fear, like a hot penny on her tongue. She felt another shift in weight, as her attacker moved off her and gripped her thighs, just above her knees. His fingers dug cruelly into her soft flesh, squeezing, as he pushed her knees apart. For a moment Kat struggled, but he was too strong and she felt his knee being forced between her thighs. The grip on her knee was released and he swung his hand in a stinging slap against the side of her face. Stars burst in her head and she tasted blood from a split lip as her head snapped to the side. 

Kat sobbed as she felt his stubby fingers rubbing at the mound of her sex, the tip of his finger thrusting roughly between the lips of her damp pussy. Kat moaned as he explored the wetness of her opening, the thick fingertip stretching her and scraping across the base of her erect clit.

"Please," she begged, "take the hood off. I won't tell anyone and you can do anything you want."

"I can't let you see my face." he replied, doubt in his voice.

"Why? I've promised not to tell anyone." she begged. "Why do you want to see my face?" he demanded.

"It's not that, Sir." she replied, almost whispering, "It makes it hard for me to breathe and, and I want to suck your cock." She finished in a rush.

The hands moved away from her thighs and pussy, and she felt the cord around her neck being loosened. The light was shut off and she felt the bag being pulled over her head. The room was still dark, but she could breathe freely again and she gulped great whooping draughts of the cooler air. The wait shifted on the bed again and she felt his hairy thighs pressing against the underside of her breasts as she was straddled again. She heard a slap as his slick, hard cock hit her breast, before he thrust it along the shallow cleft between her full breasts.

"Open your mouth then, bitch!" he snarled.

Kat meekly parted her lips and he thrust the tip of his cock between them, filling her mouth with the swollen head. Kat licked at the hot flesh sliding back and forth on her tongue, gagging as he thrust to the back of her mouth and into her throat. Tears filled her eyes and she choked on the hardness of his shaft as he forced her mouth wider. Desperately she sucked and swallowed, gasping around the meat filling her mouth. The room seemed filled with the slurping sounds of her sucking his hard cock as he drove it in and out of her mouth.

"Suck it slut!" he ordered.

Kat could not speak, only suck on his cock as he fucked her mouth, ramming the head over her tongue to the back of her throat. He held her head still as he thrust into her hot, wet mouth, her spittle making his cock slick and slimy. Kat's eyes were filled with tears and her nose ran, lubricating the shaft of his cock as he worked it in and out of her mouth, bruising her lips with his thrusts.

His cock stiffened in her mouth and he pulled away, sliding the head from between her lips and leaving her sprawled on the covers, gasping for air. The swell of her breasts was bruised and tender from the slapping of his thighs against the taut globes, as he thrust into her mouth. Kat moaned through her bruised lips as he grabbed her knees and wrenched her thighs apart. She could feel him spreading her legs and kneeling between her thighs, leaning over her until the tip of his cock rubbed against her belly, leaving a thin ribbon of slime on her skin. Even when he released his grip on her thighs, Kat could not summon the strength to push him off and she trembled as she felt him rubbing the head of his cock along her pussy, pushing it between the swollen, tender lips, until he had the tip poised at the tight entrance to her passage.

Grabbing her shoulders and pinning her, motionless, to the bed, he rammed his cock, violently, deep into her pussy. Kat screamed and bucked against him, as she felt his cock filling her. His hands gripped her shoulders tightly, holding her down as he pulled his cock back, then rammed it hard and deep, so that his balls slapped against her ass. Pinning her beneath his hips, he reached down and lifted her knees, draping her calves over his shoulders, lifting her ass and pussy so that he could ram even deeper. 

"There you are, bitch, can you feel my cock ripping your cunt open?" he snarled in her ear.

"God yes! You're splitting me open, you bastard!" she sobbed back.

He thrust deep inside her, long strokes that felt as though her tender pussy was being torn open. The top side of his shaft rubbed against her erect clit with every stroke, exciting her, against her will and driving her closer to cumming. Kat had given up any pretence of resisting the man who had broken into her room and all she could think about now was the sensation of his cock filling and stretching her pussy. She bucked against him, driving upwards to meet his thrusts and take the length of his cock deep inside her.

"Fuck me, please Sir, fuck me hard." Kat begged.

"Shut up, cunt." he snarled.

Kat just grunted as he rammed harder, their bare skin slapping wetly together with every thrust. She could only pant and grunt as he pounded into her dripping pussy, loud squelching noises and the tang of her slippery juices filling the air. The rubbing of his cock against her clit and the feel of her breasts crushed between them, her nipples rubbing against his t-shirt drove every thought out of her brain as she became a slut for him to use in every way he wished. Suddenly, he pulled his cock out of her pussy, leaving it, wet and gaping, while he grabbed her and flipped her onto her belly.

"Get your ass in the air, bitch!" he commanded, "Your cunt is too slack and sloppy for a real cock."

Kat lifted her hips and he grabbed her, pulling her back towards him and using his thumbs to spread the cheeks of her ass. The dark ring of her asshole was clenched tight, as she waited, fearfully, for him to take her. She shook her head as he placed the tip of his cock against the dark opening, realising that her bowels were full and not sure that she could cope with his cock rammed into her tender back passage. She felt the pressure against her tightly clenched anus increase, gradually at first, but more and more quickly as he gripped her tightly and pulled her closer. She felt her asshole stretching, until she thought he would tear her open. She had taken a cock in her ass before, but not often and not recently, so her ass was hot and tight. 

Kat heard him working his mouth and then with a hawking sound, he sprayed her ass with spittle, lubing the head of his cock. With a hard jerk of his hips, he rammed his cock home and Kat screamed into the pillow, as his thick meat, thicker and harder than any cock she had had before, slid into her back passage. She could feel his cock inside her bowel, pushing the contents back and stretching her. She could only pant and groan as he worked his cock in and out, deeper and harder, until his cock was sliding in and out of her ass, streaks of her filth smeared along the length.

His cock stiffened and swelled, sending sparks of pain shooting through to her pussy and, even as she began to cum, it felt as though her ass was tearing open. Her pussy showered heavy thick drops of cum onto the sheets as she felt his cock begin to jerk inside her, squirting thick slimy jets of his cum into her ass. He held still and grunted in time with the spurts that splashed into her ass as she gasped and sobbed, her legs giving way as she sprinkled the sheets with her cum. He shuddered, and pulled his softening cock, smeared with muck from her ass, out of her, letting her fall onto the bed.

Kat just lay across the bedclothes, bruised and tender, as he slid off the bed and pulled his pants back on. She tried to turn, to speak, before he escaped, but the movement set of a ripple in her pussy and her bowel. Sobbing in shame, Kat came on the sheets as her bowels emptied, covering her bed in stinking filth. All she could do was cry out after him as her attacker stepped onto the landing and raced down the stairs and out of the door.  



Intruder



Jessica lugged her laundry basket up the three flights of stairs, fumbled with her house key and maneuvered herself into her apartment. With her hands still full, she pulled the key from the lock and shut the door behind her without bothering to lock it. Moving to set the basket on the couch, Jessica began folding to soft fluffy towels, so warm and fresh from the dryer.

All of a sudden, the door flew open and a man wearing a ski-mask came barreling in. Jessica jumped and shrieked. The masked man shut the door behind himself and locked it. The click of the bolts sliding into place had a menacing feel. Jessica knew that there was going to be trouble.

Before she had time to react, the man was on her, grabbing her arms and pinning them behind her back. The man stood about half a foot over her and his body was solid and strong. He smelled clean like Irish Spring soap, a thought that came unbidden into her brain and seemed somehow inconsistent with the events that were taking place.

"I know over a hundred ways to incapacitate you and about half of them will leave you dead," the man said in a steely voice. "Don't scream, and don't make me use any of them. I won't hurt you if I don't have to."

"What do you want?" Jessica asked in a shaky voice. "There's a little money on top of the dresser and a few bracelets but I really don't have anything worth taking."

"Keep your money," the man sneered. "You do have something I want, and I will take it. Although you may be right, it may not be worth all that much."

"I don't know what you are talking about," Jessica faltered. Her voice sounded as though she were on the brink of tears.

"Move to the bedroom," he ordered.

"What, I-"

"Do it!" he yelled, jerking hard on her arms. Tears now began to fall.

"That hurt!" she yelped.

"Then don't make me do it again bitch. Do as I say."

Wordlessly, she led him to her bedroom. She was relieved that it was tidy and that the bed was made, usually it was all in such a disarray. Then she realized what she had been thinking and couldn't believe herself. She had actually been worried about this stranger thinking she was a slob! She didn't have much time however, either for relief or for berating herself because he threw her onto her perfectly made bed without any concern for messing up the comforter. 

At least he had let go of her arms, they had been starting to go numb. She turned to see the man unzipping his pants and fishing out a semi-erect cock. "You're right about one thing bitch. What I want is pretty worthless. It's you. Tell me what a worthless little whore you are and I'll let you suck my cock."

"I don't know what you are talking about. Why would I do that, I don't even want to suck your- er, suck you."

In an instant, she knew she had said the wrong thing. The man brought his hand up fast and sharp across her cheek. She couldn't believe the force with which he had struck her. This was no bitch slap, it was the smack of a man who clearly meant business. "Shut up bitch and do what you're told."

Choking back tears she whimpered, "Please don't hit me again. I'll do whatever you want. T-t-tell me again what you wanted me to s-s-say."

"Tell me," the man slowly repeated, "what a perfectly worthless filthy little slut you are and how badly you want to suck my cock into your hungry little mouth."

Jessica wasn't sure exactly what to do. She wasn't used to talking like that, she couldn't even image those words coming out of her mouth. Her voice was shaky as she did her best to comply.

"I'm just a worthless s-slut," she told him. "Put my mouth to good use and fill it with your c- your c-"

"Say it whore!" he demanded, prompting a tear to slide down her cheek. "Beg for my cock."

"I caaaaaant!" she wailed, unable to say the word. The intruder helped her out by grabbing her hair and yanking it hard. He didn't let go either, just held it tight in his brutish fist, squeezing progressively harder until her squeals of pain formulated into words.

"Please," she found herself crying. "Please let me suck your cock." Perhaps he would come quickly and be gone just as soon. Perhaps he wouldn't hurt her any more, if she did what he said and did it quickly.

His sex organ was growing some now but she could tell it still had a ways to go before it was completely hard. The man took it in his hand and rubbed it over her cheek. "It's not that easy bitch. I gotta really believe you want it."

Jessica couldn't believe this was happening to her. Once moment she was folding laundry in a state of domestic bliss, and the next- it was like some horror movie. She'd been attacked in her own home. The main was rough and course and his bulk and strength put any ideas of escape or defense out of her mind. She was helpless against him, and she knew it. The thought filled her with cold chills. She could only hope that he'd finish quickly and leave her safe and alive.

Tears she was trying so hard to hold back, rolled down her face. A bit of pre-cum had already leaked out on her skin and the stranger continued to wipe his damp member over the remainder of her face. He held the sides of her mouth, forcing her jaw open and her quivering lips to part.

"Come on bitch. Don't stop now. Beg for it."

"Oh God! Please!" she cried out, shaking. What she really meant was please make it stop, please go away, please God strike this bastard with lightning and get him off of me. The terror was obvious, yet she hoped he would chose to accept it for what he wanted.

"That's a good start, whore. But what about you? Tell me some more about yourself, street trash."

She squeezed her eyes shut tight. No, I'm not street trash, she thought. Why was he doing this. Did he have her confused with someone else? "I- I'm not street trash," she choked out through her tears.

"Liar!" he yelled, slapping her again. "I know about your dreams, whore. I know about your filthy fantasies."

Pangs of guilt attacked her. She did sometimes fantasize about things that she shouldn't. Dirty things. She knew it wasn't right to have dirty thoughts, she hadn't been brought up that way. Sex was a beautiful loving thing, not some lurid act of depraved debauchery like those disturbing dreams that had been waking her up in a fever with a yarning to touch herself.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she insisted. She felt the tightening of her hair in his hands. "Ok, ok! Please don't hurt me. I'll admit it. I- I sometimes wonder what it would be like to be a common street whore, to sell body to anybody with money. To feel cheep and used."

"Oh you don't have to wonder slut. Your just a piece of worthless gutter trash. Just because you've got a nice little home here, that's not fooling me. You're nasty, dirty, filthy. Say it!"

"No! No!- Ow! Ow! Please stop. Your hurting me!"

He spit in her face. "Good," he said in an evil voice. She recoiled from the shock. "Oh God, please!" she cried out again. "Please, please, please."

"No one can help you now but you slut. Name yourself. Beg for my cock."

She was broken. She knew that no help was on the way. "I'm a whore!" she wailed out. "I'm a filthy nasty slut. Just a cheap piece of gutter trash. Please mister, use me. Shove your cock in my mouth, please. Let me suck the sweat from your balls and swallow your hot cum."

She had to admit, she was growing damp. But she hated the sound of the words from her voice. She knew she was being forced to say them, yet she felt a certain truth to them, a truth that filled her with guilt and shame.

He dangled his hard organ over her pressed open mouth. She could smell his flesh, his warmth and his dampness. She felt herself almost eager for it. Just to get it over with, she told herself again. Just to get it over with so I can forget this ever happened.

"You want to suck my dick?" he asked her as though he were teasing her. He wasn't though, because she wasn't tempted by this disgusting brute, this criminal, this bully. Even though his hard organ was stretched out to full capacity. Even though it's veins bulged out over what looked like nearly a foot of man meat. Even though the velvety purple head had started to dribble just one drop of clear thick liquid. Like the famous ketchup commercial, the drop of pre-cum seemed to hang there, in suspended animation for eternity.

"Yes, please! Please! Please! Let me suck your thick monster cock! Let me be your dirty nasty fucking slut! Please mister! I need your cock in my slutty filthy mouth. Please, fuck my mouth! Oh god, please, make me your little bitch!"

"That's more like it, slut," he told her shoving his engorged member into her waiting mouth. He held her face and fucked in and out of her mouth with a smooth even rhythm. "You fuckin whore! You fucking cum rag!" he sputtered.

Already he was coming. Jessica felt the blast shoot deep into her throat. His grip tightened on her hair as he ordered her to swallow. As if she had any choice. The thick sickening liquid did not slide down with ease. She was not used to swallowing semen and she found it quite unpleasant.

"Look at you, you cheep whore," he told her as he pulled out of her mouth. You've go my cum leaking out of the side of your mouth. Be a good little slut and lick it up."

She flicked her tongue out as she had been told, cringing at the flavor and goopy texture of the mess he had left on her face.

"You think it's that easy? You think you're done?" he menaced.

"I thought... I thought..." she cried.

"You thought you were a good girl too, didn't you. But you found out something today. You found out that you are just a wanton little whore. A shameless tramp. And you know you fucking loved it." He reached down between her legs where she was beyond damp. His finger moved over her clit, causing her breath to become shallow and hard.

He slid down between her legs, letting his tongue do the work. Unprompted down, the filth poured forth from her mouth. "Lick my clit you fucking bastard! Suck my cunt, I want to be a filthy tramp. I want to slick your lips with my come. Eat my pussy you fucking bastard! Eat my fucking pussy and make me your shameless whore. Oh God Yes! Oh God! Oh God, Ray! Yes! Yes! Yes! You fucking own my pussy! Make me your bitch! I'm coming! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I'm coming! Yes! Ohhhhhhhhh!!! Ohhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhh!"

Her body tensed up, her pussy thrust forth in the air, all pretenses of innocence gone. She felt the coil wind and then all of a sudden release, and she was coming. She felt like she was bursting open like a bag of holiday confetti. She knew his lips were glistening with her juices now, knew that he was savoring her flavoring.

The man on the bed sat up and pulled off the ski mask. "Was it everything you hoped?" he asked.

She was coming back down to earth, feeling pleasant, playful and oddly enough- honest. "God yes. But-" she wrinkled her nose. "I didn't like the- ew- ...in my mouth."

Jessica's boyfriend laughed. "You'll get used to it."

"What makes you think I'm ever doing that again?"

"What makes you think you have a choice?"

Jessica rolled her eyes, "Oh god. I've created a monster."

He leaned down and covered her mouth with hers, their flavors mingling in her mouth. Her own musky taste was also new to her, and seemed to stir a strange passion. She hoped he was up for another round, she had a few more roll playing ideas in mind.



Intruder



He had been watching her for some time. Unaware, she blithely went about her everyday, normal business. But he was there. Constantly.

What was it that drew him to her? He had seen her laugh, her full mouth opening at a joke made and he had seen her cry, with tears falling from her bottomless blue eyes. He had seen her cold, shivering in a too-small towel, and he had seen her peel off layers of clothing when her daily workout covered her skin with a thin sheen of sweat. It wasn't that, though, it was the vulnerability of her that captured his imagination and made his breathing quicken as he observed her.

And now it was here, the day he had been anticipating and planning since she had accidentally bumped into him in the library that time. Her apology has been lost on him as he breathed in her musky scent and noticed how her dark, curling lashes framed her eyes and contrasted with the milky paleness of her skin.

Months of careful, meticulous observation had allowed him to become familiar with her daily routines. He knew when she had company.....and when she would be alone.

The air felt crisp and expectant as he watched her pull the car onto the driveway. No one would be home for hours. The thought of it made his cock stiffen and his pulse race. He suddenly collected himself as one transgression, one mistake would mean that he would not achieve his aim. He would possess her entirely before the day was done.

And now there he was, striding over towards the car. She was getting out but as usual had dropped the keys and was vainly searching for them. As she reached out for them, his hand gripped her arm like a pinching vice and as she yelped with pain, he scooped up her key chain with his free hand and twisted her arm viciously behind her back.

His mouth was close to her ear and he inhaled the scent of her fear and felt the heat radiating from her.

"Don't even think about calling out," he whispered, his voice clam and measured. "I know there is no one to hear you"

Her breathing was ragged now as he forced her towards the door. Her eyes were brimming with tears, which threatened to overflow at any second.

"Please, don't hurt me." 

Her voice wavered as she implored him to release her, but it was to no avail.

He unlocked the front door in one swift motion , and still with her arm bent behind her back, propelled her towards the bedroom. He knew where it was, he had spent hours watching her every move in there.

He could feel her trembling and it excited him .He wanted her scared, he wanted her broken and he wanted her now.

"On the bed. Do it!" he barked, shoving her backwards and pinning her down with his knee. His free hand worked at unbuckling his belt and releasing his hard cock from the confines of his trousers. 

She had begun to struggle now, the imminent danger giving her extra strength. She kicked out at him and clawed his now bare chest, drawing blood.

"Bitch!" he gasped as her nails gouged into him. "You'll pay for that"

He spun her over onto her front, straddling her so that his full body weight kept her face down on the bed. Still she fought him, but she was no match for his bulk and superior strength.

His hand roughly found her knickers and yanked them down. She was helpless, she couldn't move and was now fully exposed to him. 

He put this head near hers and began to gently bite the back of her neck and shoulders. Still her face was hidden from him.

He shifted his weight so he was lying on top of her and she felt his rigid cock against her arse. He burrowed his hand underneath her and cupped her full breast, pinching and tweaking her nipple until it was nearly as hard as he was. 

He felt her move underneath him, but this time something had changed. It was almost as if she was yielding to him.

He kept one hand on her breast and moved downwards, tracing her spine with his moist tongue. And again, there it was, almost a sigh from her.

Down he travelled until he reached the nape of her back, alternately licking and nibbling her almost translucent skin. He cupped her arse in both hands, wary and ready to pin her again if she moved, but there was no struggle.

His tongue foraged between her arse cheeks, probing the rim of her anus. He felt her involuntarily gasp as his tongue lapped across it. By now she was still, almost lost in the moment as he slowly eased first one finger and then two inside her. He felt the initial resistance and then there was a low, almost guttural moan from her. He buried his fingers further inside her and she began to move slowly up and down on them.

"Good girl," he whispered, "good girl"

They stayed like this for several minutes until he could wait no longer. Pulling back the loose skin of his cock, he plunged into her tight arse. Her back arched as he buried himself inside her, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her shoulder as he gripped her.

By now her moaning was rhythmic, and he could hear her breathing become rapid. Onwards he went, harder and faster until he could feel his orgasm rising up inside him and then bursting out of him into her arse.

He stopped, panting heavily as the waves of ecstasy subsided, his cock still inside her. Slowly, he withdrew and remained, almost trancelike, on top of her.

He could hear her breathing subside in intensity. His hand slid under her to her clit and found it erect and hot. 

"If you promise to behave, I will make you come harder than you ever had before" he told her. 

She moved her head as if to say yes, and with that he deftly turned her over, His face hovered above her clit and he could see the dampness on her cloud of pubic hair.

"Tell me that you want me to lick you." He barked, his hot breath covering her and making her shudder with anticipation.

"I do," she whispered, "Please, please do it"

His tongue swirled over her hot as his fingers plunged inside her now wet cunt. With is other hand, he reached up and pinched his hard nipple, working in a steady rhythm.

Her hips bucked up, burying his face deep inside her as she moaned with pleasure. Her blonde hair clung to her face and she writhed wantonly while he sucked on her swollen clit.

He could feel her cunt beginning to tighten around his fingers as her moans almost became sobs of pure pleasure and reached a crescendo.

"Fuck me, fuck me now!" she screamed as his sucking caused her orgasm to wash over her, wave after beautiful wave. He kept his fingers inside her and felt her contract again and again.

She cried out, her head whipping from side to side as she was lost in the moment. He watched her and it confirmed what he had known all along that secretly, deeply she had wanted and needed an experience like this.

He got up from the now rumpled and damp bed, pulling his trousers up.

"Until the next time," he growled "And you will never know when that will be."



Intruder



(This is a hot fantasy, but in no way condones rape.)

*

Lisa was home watching TV that fateful afternoon. She had led a fairly boring life after Frank, her bad-boy boyfriend was arrested for holding up a liquor store. He had been gruff and rude, but was great in bed, and had a kinky edge that always made her come back for more, even though she knew he was a dirtbag. There was no way for her to know that he had bragged about her to his cell mate at Attica, who was now a free man.

The doorbell rang, and Lisa answered it, without thinking much about it. A delivery maybe?

She opened the door and he was inside in an instant, his hand on her throat, slamming her against the wall and taking her breath away. She was instantly terrified as she grabbed for the man's tattooed forearm. He slammed the door closed with his left hand, his right hand pinning her against the wall. The second the door closed, he grabbed her long brown hair and pulled it hard, spinning her around to face the wall.

"Don't you fucking move!" he growled as he pushed her against the wall. "You hear me bitch? Don't you fuckin move or you're dead!"

She was panicking inside, and frozen in terror. He grabbed her wrists and placed her hands against the wall just above her head.

"You keep your hands right there—don't you fucking move them, you understand?"

She didn't reply, merely stayed exactly where he had put her. His hand pulling her hair back snapped her head back. "Say yes. Sir!"

She started crying. "Yes, sir..." she managed to say.

He pulled a large knife from the back pocket of his jeans and unfolded it. He was a big man, at least six-two, two-fifty, with long greasy hair and a light beard. He was smiling as he slid the knife under her white blouse. Lisa was just home from work, and was wearing a white silk blouse and a brown skirt. He let the knife point slide through the thin material, then drew it back towards him, slicing the blouse open in back. She was crying louder, which made him hard. He used the knife, razor sharp, to slice through the shoulder straps of her bra, and then the back. It fluttered to the floor at her feet, letting her 36D breasts hang free. He folded the knife and slid it back into his pocket. He leaned closer, his hands sliding around her chest, and whispered into her ear.

"Don't you fucking move you understand?"

"Yes," she whispered back, sobbing.

His hand slapping her ass so hard she almost fell shocked her. "Yes, SIR!" he bellowed. He was scary, the way Frank used to be, and she felt her nipples stiffen in the cold air. His hands slid over her breasts, perfect smooth orbs, and he found her hard nipples and squeezed hard as he twisted them. Her knees buckled at the pain...but she felt something else too.

"You like it, don't you slut?"

"No!" she cried out. "Please! Just leave and I won't tell anybody! Please! Stop!" she begged as he pulled and kneaded her perfect tits.

He squeezed harder. "You fucking love it! Now say it!" he roared.

"I love it," she whispered, now crying again.

He moved his hands slowly down her belly and unsnapped her skirt, which fell at her ankles. "Don't you move a muscle," he whispered, as his hand slid over her hips and around to her perfect little ass. She was wearing a white lace thong and it showed off her ass. 

"So nice," he said out loud, and then he slid his knife under it and cut it open. It fluttered to the floor by her skirt, and he kicked her ankles wider. His hands slid over her ass and thighs as he admired his new toy. Poor Lisa bit her bottom lip and tried to hold herself together. Her mascara ran down her cheeks. He spanked her bare ass so hard he left a red handprint. Her knees buckled and she cried out in shock and pain.

"Say 'thank you, sir'" he whispered into her ear.

"Thank you, sir," she said between louder sobs.

He spanked her again. And again. And again. She thanked him after each, the same way she used to thank Frank when he used her so hard. She could feel her body betraying her as he spanked her ass. When his fingertip traced the seam of her cunt, she moaned softly and he felt her warm silk on his fingertip.

"You fucking love it, don't you slut?" he asked.

She continued crying, and said "No...please, no more...please just leave..."

He spanked her nonstop for a full minute, until her ass was crimson. She was sobbing loudly, but her pussy was flooding with warm cream.

"You love it bitch...don't you," he whispered into her ear. She could feel his warm breath and smell alcohol and cigarettes. She cringed. Without warning, he pushed 2 fingers up into her pussy. She was soaked, although she was terrified and wanted him to stop and just leave her alone.

He started working his fingers in and out, then made rough circles on her clit. He knees buckled slightly as her body responded to the physical stimuli. She was crying and begging him to stop—and that's when he pushed his thumb into her asshole. With his thumb in her ass, he used the web of his hand to rub against her swollen clit, and her hips started rocking against his hand.

"Oh gawwwwd," she murmured, starting to forget where she was.

He continued to work her ass and clit as he reached around and pinched her hard nipple. She let out a long guttural moan, and her pussy was now flooding his hand.

"Little fuck toy loves, it doesn't she?" he whispered hoarsely. "Answer me bitch!" he said as he pushed harder into her cunt.

She whimpered and groaned out a long, "yessssssss..."

He pulled his hand away, leaving her ass and pussy open and needy, and she turned her head to face him, wondering why he had stopped. She was confused—she wanted him to stop and leave, she wanted him to make her cum, she wanted him to use her hard...what did she want?

He grabbed her by the hair and half pushed, half pulled her out of the foyer of her small house into the den.

"On the floor slut!" he commanded. Get on your back and spread your legs. She laid down and, with bent knees, spread her legs for him. He stood and looked at her shaved pussy. Her lips were still slightly open, and glossy with pussy cream. He began undressing and told her to rub her clit. Her tears began to flow again as she reached down and rubbed her swollen clit. She didn't want to enjoy it, but she couldn't help it...she rubbed faster...it felt so fucking good..." She closed her eyes and began to get lost as she neared her first orgasm.

"STOP!" he roared with such force that she immediately pulled her hand away. She looked up at him with scared eyes. She needed to cum so badly, her pussy cream was running down her ass.

He knelt between her legs and shoved a pillow from the couch under her ass. He pushed her legs open wider and she didn't resist. She was staring at his face, wanting him to eat her pussy so bad she couldn't take it, but she didn't say a word. He was a rapist. He had hit her. He had forced his way into her home, and now into her ass and pussy, and she was soaked and wanting to cum, what was wrong with her?

He held her ankles and pushed them wider, and laid on his stomach so he was staring at her cunt. It was beautiful, and dripping down her asshole. "Beg me to eat it," he said.

She started shaking her head no, but couldn't speak.

He spanked her bald cunt, and she whimpered and started rocking her hips in shock and exhilaration. It was something that Frank did to her when he went down on her, and always made her cum so hard. She couldn't stop her reaction at the sting, and started cumming against her will. Wave after wave or orgasm was sending chills through her body as she rocked and arched, her ankles still held by her captor. 

He laughed at her reaction. "Just like Frank said," he thought to himself, then buried his face in her spasming cunt. When he bit down on her clit, she screamed and started cumming again, this time even harder. When he shoved his two fingers up her wet asshole, she started squirting and rocking her hips wildly, screaming and cumming out of control. He pumped her asshole harder and harder as she squirted her pussy cream all over his face and chest. He leaned back and watched in amazement. No wonder his cellmate Frank was always bragging about her and jerking off in his bunk.

The ex-con slid up her body and without warning slammed his cock deep inside her squirting pussy. This brought on another round of screaming and squirting orgasms as he pumped her as hard as he could. He fucked her as deep and hard as he knew how, and she was out of control now, her legs wrapped around his back, and her own hands now pulling and squeezing her swollen nipples. Her head tossed from side to side and he was above her, watching the show in amazement. What a great piece of pussy.

When he was close to cumming she saw his face and snapped back to the present moment. She was horrified at her own body and begged him, "Please! Don't cum inside me!" He pulled out, and she relaxed only slightly, awaiting his cum shot on her tits or belly—instead he reached down, grabbed the base of his hard cock, and shoved it up into her asshole.

She howled. He could care less. He held himself over her, balanced on his hands over her shoulders, and plowed her asshole as hard as he could. She was screaming, but without even realizing it, she reached down and started rubbing her swollen clit, the way she would do it for Frank when he fucked her ass hard like this. She kept at it, faster and faster, until she was close to cumming, at which time the intruder groaned and shot a huge load of hot cum up her ass. She started cumming again when she felt him inside her asshole, and he remained there, buried deep, until his cock stopped spasming.

He pulled out of her asshole and slid up her chest on his knees, until his cock was in front of her face. "Suck it off girl," he commanded, and she took him in her mouth, tasting ass and cum. She sucked and licked, making loud slurping noises. He reached back and shoved 2 fingers up into her asshole, pulling out a wad of his cum, which he shoved into her mouth. He force fed her until he couldn't get any more out of her, and then stood up.

"Get up bitch," he said, and she complied, although her legs were so wobbly he had to hold her elbow. She was dizzy, and covered in her own juices. "You're a fucking mess, girl...we're gonna get you cleaned up."

He escorted her roughly to her bathroom and commanded her to get into the tub. When she reached for the faucets, he smacker her ass hard, leaving another pink handprint on her beautiful round ass. "No one told you to touch that. Sit down!"

She sat in the tub and wrapped her arms around her knees, now shielding her tits. It was a bit late for modestly, and her attacker laughed at her. 

"Spread your legs—hands at your sides!" She did as he said. She was quite shocked when his stream of urine hit her face, and shielded her face with her hands.

"Hands down! Open your fucking mouth!" he bellowed, sounding angry.

She put her hands down, and managed to open her mouth slightly, although she was disgusted by this depraved act of humiliation. His steady stream of warm piss splattered her face and mouth and tits, and he laughed at her. She started crying again, feeling like used trash, her tears mixing with his piss. When he was finished, he commanded her to kneel in the tub, which hurt her knees, but she complied. He grabbed her head and began fucking her throat so hard her eyes rolled back in her head. Oblivious to her choking, he fucked her face hard and fast, his cock growing bigger and harder as he used her mouth for a fuck hole. Her mascara was running down her piss-covered face as he pumped harder into her throat. When he got closer to cumming he stopped and pulled out of her mouth. She inhaled deeply, having been deprived air, and looked up at him.

"I'll save that for later," he said. He grabbed some bath gel and squirted it all over her tits like a cum shot. "Clean up you fucking slut!" He commanded and sat on the counter as she turned on the water. She bathed under his watchful eye until he was satisfied, and then he had her get out of the tub. He handed her a towel like a gentleman, and she thanked him quietly.

He watched her towel off and when she was finished, he told her to get to her bed and get on all fours. She did as she was told, no longer fighting mentally or physically. She was broken, and they both knew it. She got on all fours and he quietly told her to reach under and masturbate for him, which she did. With her face in the pillow, she rubbed her swollen clit, her rubbery pussy lips open and hanging. She was gentle and slow with her sore pussy, and only occasionally opened her eyes to see her attacker standing by her bed stroking his growing cock. When he approached her closer, she took him in her mouth without being asked, and sucked him as she kept rubbing her pussy, which was now making wet squishy cunt noises. He grew harder and harder, and finally pulled away. She looked up at him with puppy dog eyes, now wanting his cock in her mouth.

"Time for your cunt," he said matter of factly, and got up behind her. He used his thumbs to pull her ass cheeks apart, and shoved his meat inside her pussy without warning. Holding her hips, he began his second assault on her pussy, pumping her hard and deep as she continued to rub her clit. When she was close to cumming, she told him, and he pulled out of her pussy. She looked over her shoulder in disbelief—why had he stopped?

"Tell me you want me to fuck you..." he said quietly.

"Please....please fuck me..."

"Only if I own you, pet." 

That put her over the top. It had been a long time since she had a Master, and when she heard those words, she rubbed faster and started cumming again. "Oh God, Master, Oh God...I'm cumming!"

He pulled her hand away, but it was too late, she started squirting again, now lost in her waves or orgasm. "Fucking slut!" he screamed, and spanked her cunt, which made her cum even harder. He pulled her legs open wide and slammed his cock inside her as she squirted all over both of them, now lost in a multiple orgasm—her head slamming back and forth on her pillow. He shoved in as far as he could and unloaded a huge rope of cum deep inside her womb. She felt him pop and started screaming.

"Cum in me Master! Cum inside me! Oh God! Make me your slut Master!"

He groaned and let it all go, then collapsed next to her. He leaned up on one elbow. 

"You know what to do," he said quietly.

"Yes, thank you, Master," she said quietly, as she reached down to scoop his cum out of her open cunt. She fed herself for a few minutes, hungrily devouring his wad from her cunt, looking deep into his eyes the whole time. She had found a new master—or at least, he had found her.

"You're a good girl," he said. "Just like Frank said you were. I'm gonna use you hard until he gets out—that's at least seven years girl."

She know understood. That's how he knew what she needed. Frank had told him. And now she was his. She smiled as she licked his cum off her fingers.

"Thank you, Master," she said quietly...



Intruder



With the lights on it was easy work to finish up in the bathroom. After running a cloth over my face to remove what little make up remained after the bath. I took out my hairbrush and went into the bedroom. I made sure to lock both the doors behind me. I didn't know what had just happened but I was pretty sure what I was thinking was stupid. Nobody was in the house. I was alone. And if nobody was in the house and I was alone I was just imagining that an invisible man who probably died in 1918 was smoking a pipe and slamming doors in my face.

Old house, I told myself. Funky smells, drafts…

Even though I now had electricity, and several brass wall fixture glowed bright in the master bedroom. I kept the scented candles close. The smelled of honey and cinnamon. The bed was furnished with a mattress and box spring but I couldn't find much in the way of bed clothes. I was still barefoot, and wearing a pair of drawstring pajama bottoms and a sport's bra. I had a bunch of things in the hatchback parked out front. I shook my head. It was a warm enough night and I really didn't want to go back out into the hall again tonight. 

You're being paranoid and childish.

Had this been a normal night, I would have flipped on the tube and watched the late-night talk shows. However, my new house was devoid of television at the moment. First thing we fix tomorrow, I told myself. 

To do: Buy Television set.

I suddenly had a bad memory though. Hadn't the ghost come into the house through the television in Poltergeist? 

To do: Rent Poltergeist. If proves true that ghost came through TV, return both TV and video. 

I sighed realizing there was little for me to do except sleep. I checked my Timex portable alarm clock. It was barely 8:30. For some reason it felt much later. It was then that it occurred to me that I'd probably crossed into a different time zone. I was just trying to figure out whether I'd gained or lost an hour driving east out of the mountains when I heard a distant sound. It was a soft whine at first but as it drew near it became a slight rumble. I moved to the edge of the bed and then to the French doors. I looked out over the lip of the portico railing. A single light was coming down the gravel drive through the oak grove. I watched it for only a second before there was a loud thump. 

I leapt around and surveyed the room. I was alone but when the thump recurred I saw my leather jacket fall from the hook on the bedroom door. 

"Who is that?"

THUMP.

"Go away. I'll call the police if you're not out of my house in five…"

THUMP! It was an angry thump and in a few seconds it came again and again. The door rattled against its hinges as the thumping increased in volume and rhythm. Finally it reached a point of sheer frenzy. Whatever was on the other side of that door, it really wanted in. In the back of my mind I was aware of the motorcycle roaring into the turnaround in front of the house and then shutting off, but I was too distracted by the pounding on my door to pay much attention to anything. 

Then with two loud bangs on the door, the thumping hastily stopped. It was quiet again. I slowly walked over to the door and put my hand against it. I felt the cool white painted wood and pressed my ear to it. Was there someone breathing on the other side? I looked down at the key, still secure in the lock on the door. I turned it gently to the right and with a soft click, the door unlocked and I opened it quickly.

There was no one there. The dark hall was empty. I took a step into the hall, my arms moving up and around my torso. It was very cold in the hallway. Probably another draft… 

It was then I heard the sound of a key in the lock of the front door. I jumped at the sound but regained my composure as I heard the key work in the lock and the front door swing open. Someone was humming as they walked into the main entry hall of the house. I leaned over the railing and looked down on the seen. 

A light switch was flipped downstairs next to the door, revealing the biker from earlier that after noon. His helmet was off but he was turned away from me, humming a tune that sounded vaguely familiar. He walked out of the hall and into one of the front rooms. Another light clicked on and I heard the sound of running water. I had an impulse to call out to him but I paused. He had a key! How the hell did a complete stranger have a key to my house?

I quietly went back into my room and rummaged in my overnight bag for my cell phone. I took it out and began dialing 9-1-1 only to hear the annoyed beeping that signified that my battery needed charging. Shit!

I could hear him moving around downstairs. Who was he? What did he want? How the hell did he have keys?

Quickly I crossed over to the bedside table where a small but sturdy lamp stood. I unplugged it, leaving only the ceiling fixture as the source of illumination. I removed the lampshade and the bulb and gave it a practice swing. I took a deep breath and moved back out into the hall, shutting the door to the bedroom quietly.

As I padded quietly down the stairs, trying to keep the boards from squeeking under my feet, I watched the shadow cast long across the entrance hall. Finally, at the base of the stairs I paused and listened. I could hear him humming and singing the words to song by the Rolling Stone's.

"…Pleased to meet you. Hope you guess my name. Ah, what's puzzlin' you is the nature of my game…"

My heart was pounding as I tried to keep control of my breathing. I was going to have to be quick if I wanted to use the element of surprise to its full effect. I silently counted down from three and then leapt into the room. It was a dining room. It was also empty. The shadow was cast by an empty vase set as the center piece of the table. The humming continued from behind the door on my left. He was in the kitchen. And he was moving pots and pans around from the sound of it.

Again, I syked myself up and held the lamp poised. I began the countdown from three again. 

Three. Okay Lily, you can do this. Two. He's not that big. And he doesn't know you're coming. One.

The door to the kitchen suddenly swung open and I jumped back, dropping the lamp to the floor with a loud bang. I screamed and stumbled backward until my butt bounced against the dining room table. The plate the man had been carrying fell to the floor and smashed, as he was equally startled by me. And that was when we both paused, the terror replaced by instant recognition and confusion.

"I…" I said.

"How…" he began.

And we just stared at one another for a time; his arms, slack at his sides, my arms and legs frozen in the act of trying to scramble over the table to get away from him. 

"Frank?"

"Lily?"

And then simultaneously we shouted at one another… "What the hell are you doing in my house?"

*****

In 1995, I was 19 and, I'm sure you'll be shocked to know, quite timid. I'd grown up in Chicago and never traveled more than a few miles outside the city. I suppose that may have been my reason for applying to a University so far away from home. I wanted so badly to experience something new and unfamiliar.

My freshman year had been tragically uneventful. I joined a sorority, went to class, went to parties with large groups of friends from my house and went home with them before any of us could get too drunk or too carried away with the college boys we met. 

And then, in the fall of my sophomore year something happened. Eight of us went to a party off campus at a house supposedly rented by a friend of a friend of one of the girls in our group. We were there for a few hours, chatting up tons of drunk and horny frat boys when suddenly it was time for us to leave. We gathered at the door and Sabrina, the girl who had drawn the unattractive task of DD did a rapid head count.

"Lily, Hanna, Veronica, Fern, Joanna, Penelope…" Sabrina's eyes went slightly wide as she looked around the room. "Where's Jessa?"

Hanna piped up. "She said we could go on home without her. She met someone who's agreed to give her a lift home."

Sabrina's face morphed into a look of mild consternation. "We came here together we leave together. She knows that!"

Before any of us could say a word in response, Sabrina had cut through our little group at the door and had begun calling for Jessa. We somewhat doggedly followed suit and began asking if any one has seen our friend. 

"She's about this high with blonde hair and freckles," I said to a scrawny punk-rocker type leaning against the counter in the kitchen.

He tipped his plastic cup to his lips and drank. When the cup came down again he was smiling. "I saw her talking to my buddy, Frank a little while ago. I think they're out back in the yard."

I looked around for some of the other girls but all of them were apparently off in other parts of the house checking rooms for Jessa. I thanked my informant and began squeezing my way through the maze of bodies toward the back door. 

Once outside, I found a group of smokers talking quietly together but Jessa was not among them. I cut through and ambled towards the far end of the yard where a gate led into an alley behind the house. It was kind of a chilly night for early October and I desperately wished I'd worn my parka. I hugged my arms close around me as my heels sank slightly in the soft grass. A few yards away from the gate I became aware of a scuffling sound.

"Hello?" I called sheepishly. I continued on, my steps slowing as I neared the wooden gate. The fence was tall, built for privacy and as my hand fell on the latch I became aware of heavy breathing and soft lyrical squeaks coming from the other side. I was suddenly very aware of what I was hearing. The rhythmic popping noise, the slipping of heals against asphalt. My impulse was to back immediately; to go inside and tell the girls I hadn't found our friend. But something held me there, my hand on the gate latch, my ears cocked and alert.

"Oh, yes!" Jessa panted in a soft whine. "Oh. Oh. Eh."

Her little mutterings were in sync with the shallow, soft popping noises. 

"Please, faster," She begged.

The popping increased in intensity and so did the guttural masculine grunts. 

I couldn't bare it. My curiosity and sense of adventure forced my hand to pull up on the gate latch and peek out in the alleyway. 

Though the gate was only opened a crack I could see the two of them. Jessa with her skirt pulled up to her waist, her panties in a tangle around her knees, and her light sweater hanging like a saggy scarf around her neck. Her bra was off and lying forgotten on the ground at her feet while two large hands fondled her breasts, pinching her nipples gently. The hands were those of a tall and muscular looking guy who, with his fly open and his pants resting on his hips was slipping his rather intimidating cock in and out of Jessa's hole with measured abandon.

"Oh, God!" Jessa moaned, her body shaking. The tall guy pushed all the way into her and held her close, kissing the back of her ear. I'd never seen anyone orgasm before but it was obvious that she had hit one hard like a brick wall.

Though it was dark I took in the features of the stranger unabashedly fucking my friend. I would have place him at around 6' 3", a daunting height for someone more than a foot shorter in heels, and his hair was long and fell over his ears and out of the collar of his almond brown leather jacket. Though he was only naked about the hips for the mechanics of love making, I could see by the state of his hips, thighs and exposed buttocks that he was a pillar of taught sinew, lean and toned with muscles that came from labor and extreme physical exertion.

As Jessa's breathing slowed and she recovered. Her mystery man slowly pulled his member out of her until all that was left inside was the tip. He ran one of his hands up from her dangling breasts to the small of her back where he rubbed her gently as she twitched with the last waves of her climax. 

I was about to close the gate and return to the party when to my horror and secret amazement I saw the guy strain his hips and plow deep inside my friend's opening again. Jessa's face went from one of spent bliss to one of sudden shock.

"No," she said, fighting to right herself and pull away. "Let me have a mi…" but she didn't finish the sentence as the tall guy pulled her upright and increased his speed and force two-fold.

Jessa's eyes widened and she let out a heavy gasp. Her hands went back behind her to grip on to her paramour, trying to keep her balance as a violent screaming orgasm enveloped her. I saw all the strength go out of her knees, she buckled but her mystery man held her up, keeping her from fainting and falling to the hard asphalt covered ground. In a split second he strained and grunted, his own dark eyes rolling back slightly under his heavy long-lashed lids; his pants slipping down from his sculpted hips to his ankles. He was coming inside her and it was the most glorious thing I'd seen.

"Lily?"

I jumped and turned to face the person who had called my name. It was Sabrina, calling from the back door of the house. 

"Have you found, Jessa yet?"

"No," I called, trying to keep my voice from traveling over the fence. "I think she's already left with whoever it was…"

I felt a hand touch mine and I started. Jessa was beside me, her face all red and her hair in wild tendrils. "I'm here," she called up to the house. "Lily and I are just saying goodbye to someone. We'll be inside in a minute."

Sabrina gave us a wave of dismissal and went back into the house. I turned to Jessa, a look of shock on my face. 

She bowed her head, ashamed; she knew I had seen her with that guy. 

"Are you ready to go," I said, my voice breathless but still a little harsh sounding. 

"Yes." She refused to meet my gaze. "I just… can we wait a minute before we go in?"

I looked down at her clothes. Her sweater was pulled back over her breasts but it was obvious that she had left her bra on the ground where it had been flung. Her skirt was wrinkled and there was the distinct odor of her still excited womb.

Before I could say anything, the gate behind her swung slowly on its hinges and the mystery man stood before me, his pale thin face was still flushed but looked very much composed. His jeans were buttoned and zipped, although there was a tell-all smell of sweat and bodily secretions that gave away what he's just been doing more than a guilty aversion of eye contact or a not-too-innocent smile ever could.

After coming into the yard and closing the gate behind him, Jessa turned to acknowledge his presence but then quickly returned her gaze to the ground just in front of my shoes. He nodded to me and then put his hand on her shoulder turning her to face him. With her head downcast she could only look at his chest, clad in a Smashing Pumpkins tee-shirt that was just visible through the opening of his half-zipped leather biker's jacket. He lifted her face with his hand so that her eyes met his. He smiled at her and she, after a moment's exposure to his radiance, smiled back. They kissed and despite my impulse to turn away, I watched with fascination.

She eventually pulled away from him and came over to stand by me. She pointed to me. 

"Frank, this is Lillian she's in my sorority."

Frank nodded to me and extended his hand. I just looked at it for a moment until he put it back down at his side. He sighed heavily and turned back to address Jessa. "I would say call me but…" he let the sentence fall away.

Jessa looked up at him and giggled at the obviously inside joke. Then she turned and walked toward the house and our friends waiting inside. I stood my ground for a moment and then took a step towards the tall biker guy. I put my finger in his chest and looked him right in the eye. "I think you're a pig!" I said, and then turned on my heel to walk away. To my surprise he grabbed my arm and spun me back to face him.

"I don't care!" he said with a smile, and pushed me away toward the house. I scurried away like a frightened mouse expecting never to see him again.

Jessa and I rejoined the group and on the drive home she responded with mild apologies and silence when asked where she had disappeared to for so long. I kept my lip zipped until we had all piled out of the Sabrina's little station wagon and all the girls went inside. Jessa stood against the car until all of them were out of sight. I asked her way she was so timid about walking in with the group and she turned around to show me the large wet stain across the back of her skirt.

"Sabrina's going to be pissed when she notices the mess on her seat cushions," she said, looking through the rear passenger window. "That can't be good for the leather."

Jessa leaned against the car and looked up into the leaves of the tall elm trees that stood all around our old sorority house. I could tell she was thinking about what had just happened to her, the sheer animalian frenzy, the raw passion, the sticky mess I was sure still felt moist in her panties.

"He wasn't even wearing a condom." I said, as the corners of her mouth drifted upward into a smile.

She sucked in a deep breath and shook her head. "I'm on the pill," she said dismissively. "Besides, I know him well enough. He's safe."

I had the impulse to chide her anyway but bit my tongue as I realized it was pointless. I didn't know much about sex then but I had an inkling that I was seeing a very pronounce case of post coital euphoria. I just looked at shoes.

"Was he your first?" I asked, pretending to be interested in the few stars that were visible through the trees.

"No," she said with a giggle, tossing her cigarette away. "I've had lots of guys, Lily."

I looked into her eyes, displaying my shock. I'd roomed with Jessa for the entire year previous and in that time she'd never once opened up to me about men. To be honest, I'd always thought of her as a bit of a prude. "How many?"

She shook her head and giggled. "I don't fuck and tell."

"But that guy tonight. The way you were together…"

"Oh, Frank is definitely the best by far. Like when I said no and he kept going. Oh God! I had no idea a man could get inside me like that."

"Didn't it hurt? I mean, I saw you and you looked like you wanted to scream."

She walked over to a stone bench under one of the elms and sat, taking care not to sit down to fast. "It still hurts," she said, but grinning nonetheless as she leaned back on her hands and stretched out her legs. "Mmm, but it's such a weird and wonderful kind of hurt, Lily. If I were a poet I'd probably know the exact word for this pleasurable agony I feel down there."

I drug my toe through the dirt, drawing a little circle. "He was really cute."

"For a pig, right?"

I looked up to see her smiling at me. Despite my guise of neo-feminist disgust I let myself smile too. "Has he got a brother?" I asked.

Jessa threw her head back and rippled with laughter. She knew just as well as every girl in the house that I was still a virgin much to my chagrin. When her chuckles subsided she looked at me, amusedly but with a hint of calculation. In a moment she stood up and dug in the front pocket of her sweater. She took out a slip of paper and passed it to me. "You can have him if you like."

My eyes widened. Was she serious? I mean, a guy like that was first of all not my type in the least; too big, too rugged, too… dangerous. And second of all I'd called him a pig. There was no way he would want to even talk to me, let alone…

"He thought you were cute," Jessa said, pressing the slip of paper into my palm. 

"Otherwise he would have stopped everything when we heard the gate creek open." She brushed past me and went into the house, leaving me to hug myself in the cold night air. I looked down at the note scrawled in smudged black ink.




Intruder



It said simply, "English Department Ext. 4481. ~F. Collins"

Maybe it was the chill in the air but as I looked at the tidy masculine scrawl I felt my nipples hardening and my lips become very dry. Was tomorrow too soon? Was now too soon? I closed my eyes and saw him again, his lean hips, his massive shoulders, the dark and wild hair that fell in several commas over his forehead and matched the curly tangles from which had jutted his long and pulsing purple headed prick, only this time it wasn't Jessa he had pressed up against the fence in the alley, but me. It was my back he was rubbing as I shuttered and gasped; my hips he grabbed and pulled back against his as my hot wet fluids mingled with his in that last abrupt and all too violent explosion. I walked over to the cold granite bench where Jessa had sat and lay down on it looking up into the branches of the trees. I wanted to feel the cold air against my lower regions, simulating the way it would have felt for Jessa, as her panties were pulled down and her skirt flung up. I looked around to make sure no one was in sight and then, I slowly reached up under my own skirt and pulled my underwear down so that I could feel the hard cold stone against my warm and swelling opening. With another glance around I decided it was secluded enough to through more caution to the wind.

I lifted my own skirt, and kicked my panties off completely letting them lie on the grass. I first let my fingers mingle with my own little pubic hairs and then I went lower to find my own little pink pleasure button. 

In less than a minute I felt the quick contraction and felt a fresh flow of liquid pulse out of me and onto the stone bench. I sighed and lay there for a moment, my skirt still up around my waist letting the wind gently bush its invisible fingers over my skin and through the hair mound of my naughty place. When I'd finally come all the way down I sat up, reached across the grass for my panties and, stuffing them into my little handbag, walked in to take a quick bath before crawling under my cozy little pink frilled comforter in my cozy little pink frilled room.



Intruder



That night Omar was called to Philly for an emergency. He hated to leave his two girls after he had just returned home but he never hesitated with anything involving money so he suited up kissed Amore and Aaliyah and left. Amore wasn't expecting that at all. Right now she felt as if she needed her husband. Her being alone now, was not a good thing. She had almost nothing to do. Besides J.J. she had no close female friends. Any other female she talked to she only considered an acquaintance. She thought about calling Cee-lo but remembered he was out of the country for a couple of days. There was literally alone, left to her own devices. Aaliyah had quickly fallen asleep after her bath and she would be all night. 

 Amore sat restlessly on the side of her bed. She retrieved a small piece of paper from her bra and unfolded it. 305 E. 109th Street apt 4D, it read, a phone number underneath it. She fumbled through her purse for her BlackBerry and began to dial the numbers but she abruptly hit the end button to cancel the call. She repeated this five more times before finally putting her phone away. She lay on the bed, happy she had succeeded. Next time she wasn't so sure if she would. Sleep didn't come as easy as she would have liked it too. Instead her mind traveled to thoughts she cursed herself for having. She tried to contain them but she found it impossible. 

 Safe in the privacy of her head, Amore's robe was slowly peeled off of her. She looked up and watched the eyes that took in her nudity. She felt warm hands touching her, making her skin tingle. Fingers rubbed and gently pinched her clit, helping her orgasm build more strength and power. When something wet and long entered her, she began talking, only she couldn't understand what she was saying, only they could. They were making her speak that special language with every movement of their tongue. Soon their tongue was replaced by 1, 2, then 3 fingers while a soft pair of lips touched hers. Amore's body trembled. "Yes. Yes. I love you," she sighed. "I love you Sha-"

 "Who me?" she heard. Amore sat up quickly. That wasn't apart of her fantasy. Standing at the door of her bedroom was a man. She jumped up and nearly screamed.

 "What are you doing?" When she stood up to cover herself, Sharrod noticed the wetness that had spilled on her thighs. Sharrod licked his lips. He wanted to taste it right now but he stopped himself. There would be more than enough time for that. 

 "What the fuck are you doing here? Why are you in my house?" Amore ranted struggling to tie the sash of her robe. Sharrod smiled, just as charming as the devil and walked into the room, making himself comfortable on the bed Amore and Omar shared. As if he were poison, Amore backed away from him.

 "Come on, love. You know last night wasn't the end of me. I'm not letting you go," Sharrod said, his grey eyes glittering. Amore was horrified yet aroused at the same time. 

 "But? You..How did you find me?"

 "Don't be frightened but I had someone follow you." 

"Follow? I never noticed anyone." Sharrod chuckled.

"Of course not. I know you and I know how paranoid you are. I told them to keep a safe distance. They gave me your address and I saw you this morning." Amore clutched her robe together tighter as if he could see through it. It put her on edge that he could be that close to her life without her being aware. "You had on that green robe. It reminded me of the one you wore that night. Is it the same one?" Sharrod was referring to the robe Amore had worn, the first time they were intimate. She nodded, remembering that night. She always thought of it, almost daily. "Everything was perfect until your nigga showed up," Sharrod said spitefully.

"That nigga's name is Omar and he is my husband." Amore held up her ring finger, displaying the obscene item that was her wedding ring. The emerald cut diamond sparkled even in the dimmest of light.

"Go ahead and put your hand down. We gonna take that off anyway." Sharrod smiled mischievously rubbing his hands together.

"You have to leave now. I mean how did you even get into my house? The security system is on."

"How soon you forget. I told you what I did to get through college," he said getting off the bed. He walked towards Amore, in his signature walk. The one Amore knew no other male had.

"Don't come near me. You have to leave. If Omar came back and saw you here-"

"He's not. I made sure your nigga would be occupied. He's on his way to Philadelphia as we speak."

"Look. I don't know how you pulled this off but your out of line. What we had is over Sharrod. Don't you get that?"

"I would if I knew it were true but its not." Sharrod moved closer to Amore. "Your mine and you became mine the moment I saw you. I'm done living without you Amore. I don't care if your married. That don't mean shit to me. You don't love that motherfucker the way you do me," he said seriously. He saw the pain Amore was holding but it didn't move him enough to back down. It only succeeded in making him more determined to show her they would be together. He softly stroked her face, the face that made everything right in his world. As he leaned in to kiss her lips, Amore tried pushing him away but Sharrod held her body tight, forcing her body to meet his. While they kissed, he undid the sash of her robe and pushed it off of her shoulders. It soon fell to the floor leaving Amore bare underneath.

"Lay down," he told her. Amore wanted to fight. She did but her body needed him. She did as she was told and watched as Sharrod undressed. Once his t-shirt, jeans, and boxers were on the floor Amore traced the outline of his body with her eyes, all the way down to the spot she once owned. The area just above his dick shocked her. She looked up at him in disbelief. 

"I told you it was yours Amore," Sharrod said stoking himself. "I haven't been with another female since you."

"Your lying." She couldn't believe that a male that looked the way Sharrod looked hadn't had sex in going on two years. Sharrod sighed and stared into her onyx eyes. 

"Why do you do that? I thought I proved to you that I love you and only you. You're the only women I've ever loved. Stop doubting me." Even though she tried to put a cold front on, she knew deep down his words were true. They had to be. Not many men would tattoo the name of a women above their genitalia. "Put your lips on me," Sharrod suddenly said. "Put me in your mouth."

Shaking her head Amore looked horrified at that notion. "I can't" she said.

"Do it," Sharrod said standing over her. He let the head of his dick rub against her lower lips. The two locked in a stare, a battle of sorts. Amore saw defiance and complete determination in him. Sharrod flashed his perfect smile and licked his lips. She couldn't help it. She was entranced. Sliding off the bed, Amore got on her knees, eye level with Sharrod's dick. She ran her hands up his thighs and stroked the length of him. Simply kissing his enlarged head made Sharrod shudder. Amore french kissed the head, twirling her tongue around him. She loved the taste of his pre-cum. Slowly she slid Sharrod in her mouth inch by inch until he filled her throat. The groan that escaped Sharrod came from the very pit of his stomach. This felt so good. Almost too good. Like he could overdose on his feeling. He cradled Amore's head, running his fingers through her hair.

"Amore, it's all yours baby," he groaned. Amore was taking him so far down, tiny tears came from the sides of her closed eyes but she didn't let up. Sharrod held her face and rubbed the wetness into her skin with his thumbs. The moans coming from Sharrod were epic. Usually he was stoic and not very verbal in expressing his pleasure but now, he almost felt like screaming. Next to her pussy, her mouth was his favorite place to be but she had never done it like this. This head was lethal and it made Sharrod convinced everything she said was a total lie. She did love him and tonight he was going to make her admit it.

After watching Amore's lips wrap around his member for a while Sharrod couldn't contain his orgasm. He threw his head back and closed his eyes, his muscular body shivering violently. The feeling of her mouth had him lost. He was about to come and Amore knew this and softly massaged his sack.

"Ahhh. Fuck. Yes. Godamn," he groaned, his voice suddenly lower. When Sharrod felt Amore's hands on his ass, he came, shooting his liquid down her throat, letting go of two years worth fustration and anger. As Amore swallowed Sharrod's release, she felt lower then before. Sure she had imagined being with Sharrod ever since they last spoke but there was a huge difference between imagining things and actually doing it.

"Damn," Sharrod said to himself. What he felt right now, had him almost incapacitated. He looked down at Amore and could clearly read the look of shame and disappointment. He knew she was having regrets but he was on a mission. He reached down and nearly tossed her on the bed. The bed she shared with her husband. He climbed on top of her and instantly went to work on her spot, the one that always got her wet. Just like every time before it worked again. As Sharrod kissed the spot just behind her ear, Amore sighed and tried moving away but his powerful hands kept her body in place under him.

"I can't do this. You have to stop Sharrod. Please," she managed.

"I'll stop when you tell me something," Sharrod said letting his hand creep down her body. "Tell me you love me."

"Huh?" Amore said confused. 

"Tell me you love me. You've never told me and I want to hear it." That was out of the question.

"I can't tell you something that's not true," Amore said. She had to control the situation, which meant keeping her head. "You have to leave Sharrod. Now." Amore tried pushing him off her but it wasn't any use, his body was laying on top of hers. She felt Sharrod's lips curl into a smile on her neck. He thought it was cute how determined she was but he was going to show her, he was in control now. Sliding his body down hers, Sharrod planted kisses on all over her as he ventured lower and lower. Between kisses, Sharrod of what she would do.

"You." Kiss. "Will." Kiss. "Tell." Kiss. "Me." Kiss. Amore knew where he was headed. She knew once he got there she would loose all control. Her body was already overheating from just his quick kisses. Her attempts to move away, where once again ruined. Once Sharrod's face rested comfortable in between her thighs, his hands gripped her hips holding her in place. Sharrod could smell Amore's sweetness. There was no way she could convince him she didn't want him.

"Tell me baby," Sharrod said running his tongue in between her lips. When he saw she was still trying retain her composure he laughed. "I see you want to do this the hard way." Sharrod pushed his thick tongue inside Amore. Her response came in something indistinguishable. Finally Amore caught her breathe and protested.

"Shar-r-rod stop. Please. I don't want to..." her voice trailed off before she could finish her sentence. 

"You don't want to what?" Sharrod asked smiling. Three of his fingers were burrowing deep inside her while his teeth gently bit her enlarged clit. "What?" he asked again but Amore couldn't answer. She was trying not to scream or make any sound to indicate what she was feeling. Sharrod stopped biting her but continued with his fingers. "Come on Amore. I know you want to say it. Just say it." Amore shook her head, still defiant. Withdrawing his fingers, Sharrod inspected them. "Look at you. You running like a facet," he commented. Sharrod stilled his fingers and took Amore's clit between his lips. The flickering of his tongue caused her to have a death grip on his head. Laughing to himself Sharrod thought of how much he hated for his waves to be messed up but if Amore did it, he didn't mind at all. Bitting her bottom lip didn't help Amore keep her sounds inside. Soon she was screaming.

"Ahhh. Shit. Shit. Shit," Amore moaned loudly. She wasn't herself right now. She cupped her breasts and stroked her nipples with her fingers. Sharrod continued, her sounds causing his dick to harden even more than it was. He slipped his hands under her ass and lifted her lower body up to him so he could put his face in. Soon her legs steadily shook as she pushed Sharrod's head between her legs harder.

"Oh my god. Mmmmm," she nearly screamed while she came. Her eyelids fluttered and her entire body went limp. Whimpers came from her as she felt the last sensations of her orgasm. Sharrod carefully placed her body back on the bed, savoring the taste of her ejaculation.

"Are you going to tell me now?" he asked kissing the inside of her thigh. Amore weakly sat u, her body slightly shaking. Guilt quickly consumed her. What was she doing? She had laced her mouth on another man and let him do the same to her...in her house...in her bedroom...on her bed. Her and Omar's bed. Amore gathered her strength and tried pushing Sharrod away from her open thighs but he didn't budge. He moved back up her body, pinning her to the bed, his member resting comfortably against her opening. 

"Get off of me Sharrod. I don't want to do this. I can't."

"This proves otherwise." Sharrod reached down and felt her wetness. He knew her body almost better then his and she could lie but her body couldn't.

"I can't cheat on him. I promised myself I never would. I want to be faithful. He deserves that much."

"You can't put that niggas before yourself. You'd be faithful at the cost of hurting yourself?" Sharrod asked staring into Amore's eyes.

"Yes I would."

"That's noble of you baby but I don't think you could. You love me and I love you. We're supposed to be together. The quicker you understand that, the better for everyone." Amore looked up at Sharrod and tried pushing him off but he grabbed her wrists and held them above her head.

"Tell me you don't want me right now and I'll leave. I'll be gone," Sharrod said confidently even though he knew that was a complete lie. He could never leave her alone. Amore looked up at Sharrod and bit her lip. She was trying to gather the words but couldn't seem to say them. She did want him and right now she felt it impossible to tell him otherwise. Waiting a few moments, Sharrod kissed her lips. "I thought so." Without warning, Sharrod pushed his thickness inside Amore. It went in easily with the fluid that had flooded her. Nearly jumping off the bed, Amore fought and yanking her hands out of Sharrod's but he held tighter and moved even deeper inside her. In seconds Amore's eyes instinctively rolled back. In a few strokes she had melted. Finally Amore freed herself from her inhibitions and fully indulged in Sharrod. He had won. 

Amore wrapped her thighs around him, holding him in place. Sharrod let her hands go and one pushed him deeper into her while the other slowly raked his back. She closed her eyes and simply focused on how he felt. When she opened up her eyes, Amore blushed deep red. Sharrod was staring at her, watching her every reaction.

"It's been a long time baby. Too long. I missed you," Sharrod said honestly. Amore nodded unable to speak. Sharrod had slowed himself. He was slowly driving her crazy by filling her up, pulling all the way out, then going in again. "Tell me Amore." 

"I can't."

"Allright then," Sharrod said pulling out of her. 

"What are you doing?" Amore almost pleaded. He had only been out of her for seconds but she was craving him already. Sharrod smiled evilly.

"I'm serious. Tell me you love me or else you can't have this dick." Amore almost began crying. She couldn't believe how weak she was to him but she was. It was why she had always tried to control their relationship because she knew ultimately he could make her do anything he wanted.

"Sharrod please. Don't make me say it. You already know how I feel about you."

"Yes I do but I need to hear it." Amore was quickly getting angry. How could be playing games when she needed him back inside her? Didn't he know that? Of course he knew. He knew her weakness and was using it against her but Amore wouldn't let him. Not this time. Nearly tackling Sharrod, Amore fixed her body on top of his and pulled his dick back in her.

"Ummmm. Yes." Amore moaned satisfied that she now had the upper hand. Sharrod was taken aback. He wanted to push her off but he couldn't bare too. Her wet tightness felt like a one-of-one, custom fit just for him. The sight of her taking him also distracted him. Amore's curved body, her full breasts bouncing, her dark hair almost covering them in waves entranced him but her face really did it for him. Her eyes were shut, her high cheeks bones had a red hue to them, and her perfectly full lips were being wetted by her tongue. Damn she's beautiful, Sharrod thought to himself. He was in love with her helplessly and his deepest fear was that they would never be together the way they wanted. He loved the sex, was addicted to it but he didn't just want her body. He wanted ownership of her mind, but most of all her heart.

"I love you Amore," Sharrod whispered running his hands on the sides of her stomach. Amore opened her eyes and stared into Sharrod's. His grey ones were so pure. Not able to lie. He did love her and she loved him but it wasn't that simple. There was too much at stake but at this very moment she couldn't think about the consequences their love held. She only knew how she felt.

"Sharrod..." she said stoking his face. Single tears slipped down her cheeks and onto his. "I love you," she finally said. Sharrod looked up at her, a huge grin invading her face. Those three little words did more for him then anything else did. He wiped her tears. 

"I love you too." Energized from her words, Sharrod sat up with Amore still on his lap, her legs straddling him. He pulled her body to his, skin to skin. This felt right to him. He couldn't fully comprehend all he was experiencing but he knew he never wanted this feeling to end. He buried his face in her hair, loving the soft feel of it. Sharrod's hands palmed her back over the two tattoos that covered it: the "Survival of the Fittest" in perfect cursive across her upper back and the beautifully shaded lotus flower etched on her lower back. On her neck almost almost disguised by her hair was a small phrase tatted, "In only God, I trust." He kissed it, thinking she should replace God with his name. Sharrod let his hands roam freely on Amore. Her skin still felt and smelled the same. His large hands found her ass and squeezed each cheek tightly causing Amore to squeal. She made even more noise when Sharrod locked his hands around her waist, bringing her body up and down on his dick. Every time she came down, his head touched her G-spot and she screamed.

"Oh my god. Uhhhh. This feels...s-s-so...so good," she said incoherently.

"You like it baby?"

"Fuck yes. Yes. Your hitting my spot. Ahhh." Sharrod knew she was about to come by her head slumping forward and the little bites she was placing on his shoulders. She was going to explode. He could already feel the down pour of her juices onto him. Her muscles were also tightening. Sharrod felt himself about to release also. He had been so focused on causing her pleasure, he hadn't even realized. He felt like he was digging through her stomach. Both of them came at the same time, vibrating together. Sharrod shot his come inside her, not even thinking or even waiting to pull out while Amore gushed all over him. Amore fell slumped over on Sharrod hugging his neck, her heart racing, her body still shaking. Gently laying her down, Sharrod watched Amore and the love he felt for her became even stronger.

"I love you," he told her again kissing her chest over the tattoo of her daughter's name over her right breast. Amore nodded then her eyes softly closed. Sharrod smiled. Amore was a mess, trying to fall a sleep already. "Come on Amore, let me clean you off." He nearly had to pick her up. Bringing her into the master bathroom, he washed her off and then himself and helped her into bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow. Sharrod was exhausted too but he had something else to do. In her near catatonic state, Amore sensed him leaving but sleep already had its grasp, so she let go and drifted off to sleep. Just as Sharrod left the bedroom after dressing he noticed the framed photograph of Amore and Omar taken on their wedding day sitting on the mantle above the fire place. He grew so angry he could barely look at it. Instinct told him to break the glass, and destroy the picture but he had no time for that. He simply placed it face down and proceeded out the room and down the hallway.




Intruder



Quickly Sharrod found the room he was looking for. Instantly he liked it. It was dark, only lit by a the soft glow of a night light. It had various shades of pink and purple, perfect for a little girl. He walked over to the crib beside the window, his heart thumping. Looking down at Aaliyah, a warm rush went through him. She was even more beautiful than before. Sharrod imagined this was how angels looked. She was laying there sleeping peacefully, a blanket covering her. Sharrod inspected the child's face, trying to confirm his earlier thoughts. He was right. He wanted to pick her up but he hesitated, not knowing if the child would begin crying but he found himself helpless. Sharrod uncovered the child and picked her up. Stirring, Aaliyah opened her eyes. He froze. Children usually grew scared with someone they didn't know but Aaliyah simply stared at him and stretched her arms to reach for him. That act made Sharrod glow. He held her against his chest and everything was perfect. This was the same feeling he had the first time he held Ebony, his first daughter and he missed it. He had never gotten to be a father but somehow he missed the feeling. The fuzzy feel of Aaliyah's lavender footy pajamas, the weight of her on him, the warmness of her little body, proved one thing. He was in love for the second time.



Stalking Intruder and the Virgin



Like any other day I'm finally home from a long night at work. Being a secretary isn't bad it's just taking orders and answering phones drives me crazy sometimes. It's just after eleven when I get into my apartment and lock the door behind. I quickly remove my clothes down to just my bra and panties. "Ahh, much better." I say out loud talking to myself like usual. I go to the bathroom and flick on the light to see a man wearing a mask in the reflection of the mirror right behind me. I let out a scream but immediately a hand goes over my mouth and an arm wraps around me holding me close and I'm unable to move my arms.

To my ear he says; "You will listen to me and obey. I don't want to hurt you. But, there will be pain and if your good I will give you pleasure. Do as your told. Do you understand?" I try to move but just his one arm is too strong. I let out a scream but his hand muffles it good. "Oh, Lauren. Are you going to be a bad girl for me? Do you want just pain?" 

My heart was racing. He knows my name! Tears start to roll down my face. "Answer me!" He growled making me jump. "Do you want just pain?" 

I shook my head no and I tried to say, "please don't do this." But my words are muffled. 

He let out a little laugh, "Mmm, you will do as your told and I promise you'll enjoy this too. I know what you really want Lauren. I've been watching you. I see the books you read and those naughty websites you go to. 

Oh, no! He's been stalking me! And, how could he see those websites? He's been on my computer! 

"No! Please, just go!" Again my words are muffled. He laughs again and with his arm still around me he moves his hand up to my bra and under. He then begins squeezing my breast tightly. My nipple gets hard and he quickly twists it. I let out a 'no' but it became a moan. I try to move again to get away. But, his fingers squeeze and twist my nipple even harder. I let out a louder moan. My body gets weak and I lean into him.

"Mmm, we're going to have so much fun." He stops twisting my nipple and starts massaging my breasts. "See Lauren, pain and pleasure. Are you going to be a good girl? Can I remove my hand?" I shook my head yes. "Hmm, if you let out a scream at all I will have to gag you and that gag will stay on until my cock can shut up your mouth. Do you understand?" 

I gulp. Cock in my mouth? My body gets weak at his words. I shook my head yes and he slowly removes his hand. 

I let out a quiet moan. "Please. Please, don't do this." His arm lets go of me and I quickly move to the right to the door but he's fast and comes up behind me pinning me to the door. I want to scream but I know what he will do.

"Please just leave me!" I cry out. He takes my arms and pulls them tight behind me causing me pain, "Ahh, please no!" He's putting something around my wrists it feels like rope. "No, no! Don't tie me!" My hearts racing. 

"Oh, Lauren. But this is what you want. I know you do. You don't need to hide it anymore." 

"Just let me go! You don't want me!" I try to plea with him.

He laughs, "I want you more then you know and you will be mine." My wrists are tightly together that I can't even move them a bit. He moves away from me, "turn around!" He demands and I slowly turn around. Now, I get a good look at him. He's in all black, with a black ski mask. His eyes dance wildly all over my body. 

I'm helpless. My arms tied behind my back and just in my bra and panties. He moves to me and comes around behind me. He extends his arm in front of me and there's something in his hand. Its a switchblade! I jump and gasp when the blade comes out. "Oh, please no!" I beg. 

"I will not hurt you Lauren. Hmm, at least not with this. I need that bra off." He cuts the straps to my bra and pulls it away throwing it to the ground. My nipples harden immediately. "Mmm, good girl." He puts the knife away and cups both of my breasts firmly with his hands. I moan. "Your breast fit perfectly in my hands..so beautiful."

"Please, no more!" I scream. 

"Mmm, but we just started. Lauren, I can't stop now. I have no control when I get started." 

"Please don't! Why me?" 

"Shhh." He put his finger to my mouth. "Don't talk until I tell you to or you'll be gagged. Do you understand?" I shook my head yes. "Good girl." His left hand stayed on my breast working and twisting the nipple. His right hand started to slowly move down my stomach. I giggle & move away from his hand. 

"Oh, so ticklish. We'll have to work on that." He tighten his finger on my nipple and I let out a moan. "Don't move away from me again or there will be pain. Understand?" I shook my head yes. "No! Answer me!" He growled. 

"Yes, I...I understand." 

"You will call me 'Sir'. Understand?" 

"Yes." I breathed. 

He twisted both of my nipples hard, "Ahhh!" 

"You will say; 'yes Sir' or you will be punished. Understand?" 

"Yes.." He twisted them hard. "Yes..Sir!" I screamed out. 

"Hmm, very good." His right hand slowly went down my stomach. "Don't move away." He growled. It tickled so much but I kept still. His hand went into my panties. 

"No! Not there! Please, no more! No more!" 

"I didn't tell you to talk!" He growled. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry...Sir." 

"Oh, Lauren. What am I going to do with you? Hmm, you will be spanked after I'm done with this. Let's see how wet you are." Gulp. Did he say spanked? His hand went into my panties, I jumped & gasped. 

"Oh, wow. You are very wet. Mmm, very good Lauren. Let's see how tight that pussy is." His middle finger started going in. 

"No! Stop!" I screamed. He was about to cover my mouth when I said; "I'm...I'm a virgin." I managed to breath out. 

"What?" He immediately said in shock and let go of me stepping away. 

"Please, don't do this." I begged. My heart was pounding so fast. He slowly moved in front of me shacking his head. 

"Are you lying to me!?" He growled and his hand went to my throat pushing me hard against the wall. 

"No! Please! I'm telling the truth! I'm a virgin!" He was looking me directly into my eyes. 

"Your a beautiful, single, 22-year-old, virgin? How is that possible?" He let go of my neck. 

"I...I just haven't found the right guy. Listen, just untie me and go. I'm not going to call the cops because they won't find you and I really don't have it in me to explain everything that just happened. Please, just go." 

He looked down at me, "hmm, your right. I shouldn't do this to you. Fuck!" I jumped at the tone of his voice. He turned around and hit the wall with his hand and started talking under his breath. "How did I not see this!"

He turned to me and came over putting each arm beside me on the wall so I couldn't get away. He looked down at me. "Lauren, my dear. Why are you looking at those extreme dirty websites and watching those videos?" I blushed and looked down away from him."Look at me!" He demanded. I slowly looked up into his eyes. 

"I...that's none of your business!" I shouted back. 

"Tell...me." He slowly said through his clenched teeth. "What...it's just something that turns you on? You want it. Don't you Lauren? Tell me. You touch yourself when watching those videos? Hmm?" I blushed again and didn't say anything. "Tell me!" He shouted. 

"Yes! Yes to all of it! Are you happy now! Just please leave me alone!" My arms were starting to hurt being tied like this. Can't he just leave?

"Leave!" I shouted. His hand came up to my mouth covering it and a smirk came across his face. 

"My dear, do you remember what I said before? Once I get started...there's no control." He lifted me up and over his shoulder giving my butt a hard smack. I let out a low scream. He took me to my bedroom throwing me on the bed. "Lauren, I'm really not a bad man. I haven't raped or attacked any women...ever. But, I have role played like this before. I've done a lot of stuff and a lot of BDSM."

"I was doing all of this for you. I know it's hard for you to understand that but I'll explain more later. With that said...I'm not going to rape you. I know you want me to leave but really deep down you want this. We are going to take it slow or fast...depends how this goes. But, right now I'm going to give you that spanking you deserve. Here's some rules; do what I tell you, you will call me Sir, do not talk until I give you permission, if you scream I will gag you. Do you understand?" 

I took a deep breath. "Yes, Sir." He is right. It seems so wrong but really, this is what I want.



Intruder Ch. 01



Life has been good to me so far. After graduating from college I got a job as a nurse at the biggest hospital in the city, and managed to rent a cosy little apartment only ten minutes from where I worked. My plan was to save up enough to go to med school and study to become a doctor, with plenty of on-the-job training to back it up. Although I'd been to second base, I'd managed somehow to stay a virgin. This wasn't because I'd actually set out to remain a virgin, I just never found myself in that position. Needless to say, my sex life had never been all that colourful, with only a few boyfriends through high school and college, and none now that I had a full time job. Life had been good to me so far, until that night. He came to me in the dark and changed my life forever that night, and I never saw or heard him coming.

***

Getting ready for bed was the same regular routine: I showered, brushed my teeth, and changed into my pyjamas. After changing, I paused to examine myself in my head-to-toe vanity mirror. At only 22, my body was gorgeous, if I do say so myself. I was in good shape with toned legs, a near perfect hourglass figure, and a pair of natural 34C breasts to go with them. For bed, I wore a sensual, black nightshirt with a single knot tied between my breasts, leaving my ample cleavage on display above the knot and a large, triangular gap exposing my toned stomach below it. I ran a hand through the flowing tresses of my recently washed, auburn hair, which gleamed under the bathroom light. I cupped my breasts in my hands and gently massaged the nipples, sending a tingle of arousal down my spine all the way to my groin. I then slowly ran my hands down my body, across the smooth, tanned skin of my belly to the little jewelled piercing in my navel. I had gotten it for my 16th birthday and it was the sluttiest thing I still allowed myself to wear these days, apart from my sultry nightshirt.

I smiled to myself in the mirror, my electric blue eyes lighting up as I did so. Any woman with a body like mine was entitled to a touch of vanity; the sight in the mirror would make any man instantly hard. Unbidden, my mind slipped away with the image of a powerful, muscular male, ogling me with lust-filled eyes, struggling to hide the enormous tent in his pants. Unable to control his urges any longer, he grabbed me and forced me to the ground, my feminine frame no match for his overpowering strength. Pinning me beneath his massive weight, he used one massive hand to restrain both my wrists behind my head while the other hand pawed at my underwear, frantically trying to ...

"...Uh!" the sound escaping my lips yanked me back into reality. Looking in the mirror again, I saw one hand frozen in the middle of a breast massage and the other lodged snugly between my legs. Feeling slightly embarrassed, I withdrew my hands and became acutely aware of a small damp patch in the crotch of my panties. Well, it was a good fantasy at least. Ignoring the moist spot between my legs, I turned off the light and returned to my bedroom.

Having made sure that my door was locked and the lights were all off, I clambered into bed and went to sleep, not bothering to snuggle under my covers. It was the middle of July and even indoors the heat was sweltering; but instead of leaving the noisy air conditioning on all night, I decided to leave my windows open to let the night time breeze waft through the room and across my naked belly ... big mistake.

***

The first sign that he was there was the muffled sound of sheets being rustled as I stirred. In the split second that I realised there was someone on my bed, a hand clamped over my mouth, jolting me out of unconsciousness. My eyes shot open in panic, for all the good that did since it was pitch black. I couldn't see my attacker, but I could feel him, a sizeable male frame looming over me in the darkness, one hand still clamped over my mouth to muffle my screams while the other groped and pawed at my body. I jerked violently in response to this violation, struggling to fight off the intruder; but he was already lodged between my legs and I couldn't dislodge him. Beating my fists against him did even less, and when I tried to grab his face in order to go for his eyes and mouth as self-defence instruction had taught me, he wrapped his free hand around my throat and squeezed the fight out of me. The choking of my windpipe sapped my resistance completely, I didn't want to die, and I knew he could kill me if he wanted to.

By now it was pretty clear what he wanted and the sound of him pulling down his pants chilled me to the bone. I also heard and felt him tug his shirt off, my attacker and soon-to-be rapist was now completely naked. Once naked, he ran his hand along the inside of my thigh, taking his time and clearly savouring the feel of my smooth skin in a way that made me shiver. When his hand reached my panties, his fingers reached behind the cloth and sealed it in a firm grip. I could feel his cold knuckles pressed against my pussy lips, and imagined him, even though I couldn't see him, leering down at me. Completely without warning, an inexplicable tingle bloomed in my groin at his touch and a tiny patch of dampness blossomed at the entrance to my womanhood. My body's aroused reaction to this unwanted intrusion filled me with horror ... or was that excitement? The sudden attack of confusion distracted me and left me unprepared when he ripped away my panties and tossed them across the room.

I knew what was next. I wasn't about to lose my virginity or willingly give it to the love of my life on our wedding night, it was about to be taken, stolen from me by a rapist in my own bed. I was paralysed with fearful anticipation, too petrified to continue resisting or cry out for help, even when he removed his hand from my mouth to help guide his cock to my moist entrance. Another shiver, this time of genuine sexual excitement, involuntarily ran through my body when the head of his cock made contact with my labia. This was the moment. I felt him relax ever so slightly above me and I relaxed with him, lowering my guard just a little. Then without warning, he thrust himself inside me.

I yelped half in surprise and half in pain as his manhood filled me all the way up to the neck of my womb. It was done, my virginity was gone, this animal was completely in control of my body, and there was nothing I could do to resist. His first strokes were long and forceful, pulling out slowly and thrusting back in, slow withdrawal and sharp re-entry. I released tiny, girlish yelps every time he refilled me, squealing like a virgin as it were. The sharp jolts of pain from his strokes made me wince, but actually it wasn't nearly as bad as the horror stories I'd heard about abused vaginas, gushing blood from torn hymens. Nevertheless, this man, my rapist, must have been hung like a horse for him to stretch the walls of my pussy so much. I just lay there and took it, helpless to do anything as he rutted me, grunting like a caveman laying claim to his female captive.

I had become numbed to the loss of privacy and the general sense of violation that accompanied my ongoing ordeal, but the worst feeling of all was the lack of control over my own body. I could feel my passage getting slicker as my love-canal churned out more lubricant to accommodate my rapist's member, and before long I could even hear the squelching noise as his man-rod slid in and out of me. The tingling sensation had returned to my groin and to my horrified bewilderment it was starting to spread through the rest of my body.

Feeling my pussy dampening and sensing my body's excitement, my rapist quickened his thrusts until they were a constant series of short, sharp strokes. He grabbed my wrists and pressed them down against the mattress, lifting himself into a push-up position, and continued his rutting with renewed vigour, causing the bed to creak as he did so. The growing waves of pleasure wafting through my body were becoming too much to handle, I had started to unconsciously thrust my hips back at him ever so slightly, in time with each stroke. My restrained hands struggled against his superior strength, and my feet had risen into the air of their own accord. My heart was throbbing at a mile a minute and it felt like my heart had migrated to my pussy, because that was where the throbbing was coming from, at the point where my rapist and I were one. My rape, my first fucking, and all the sensations it stirred within me finally drove me over the edge.

My first cock-induced orgasm hit me like a freight train, surging through my body like a tsunami of pure ecstasy. It was so powerful that I actually yanked my wrists free of my rapist, not to fight back against him, but to run my hands across his toned and well muscled shoulders, arms, and back. He must have been very handsome, why would he need to force women to have sex when he could probably take them willingly? No answer was forthcoming as my rapist responded to my orgasm by increasing the tempo of his thrusts to furious speeds, pounding me like a wild beast. His rutting in my pussy should have been excruciating by now, but in place of pain all I felt were spikes of pure pleasure being rammed home deep inside me, and I rode the crest of my orgasmic wave, my pained yelps now transformed into shameless moans of pleasure.

Finally, my rapist reached his own limit and with a bestial snarl, he thrust himself as far into me as he could go, and he came ... hard. I felt a hot, creamy spurt bloom deep inside my pussy, followed by another and another, some even shooting directly into my cervix with overpowering force. The sensation of being filled with his potent seed forced me over the brink a second time and another orgasm swept through my body. My rapist held himself as close to me as possible, pressing his huge chest against my own and keeping my love-canal firmly plugged as he continued to fill me. It felt like an eternity before his hot spurts died down altogether.

After my rapist had finished cumming, he lay on top of me for some time afterwards, recovering his strength before finally pulling out of me. He came so deep inside me that there was almost no leakage, all I felt was my pussy become empty before gradually shrinking back to its original size and shape. I was so exhausted from the ordeal that I dozed off almost instantly into a long dreamless sleep.

***

I awoke to the pleasant sensation of my naked skin basking in the warmth of the morning sunshine. I lay there in the sunlight, whilst one hand slipped down across my smooth skin, stroking my belly piercing before reaching down to my pussy. My womanhood was wet from the sensual feeling of the sun on my skin and my inner lips and crack were coated with a crusty ...

I bolted up in shock as I remembered the previous night; the intruder who climbed in through the window, choking me and stripping off my underwear before raping me. All the details came back, but the intense arousal that accompanied them was gone. Only the paralytic fear I had felt and the sickening feeling of violation remained. I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, retching in the sink at recalling the previous night's events. I was pale as a ghost and felt weak and filthy.

I had been raped. I was a victim of rape in my own home. The intruder had ambushed me in the middle of the night when I was most vulnerable, forced me into physical submission, and filled me with his seed. I opened my cupboard and rummaged around for a douche, only to remember that it wouldn't do any good. It had been hours since he ejaculated inside me, by then nearly all of his semen would have been vacuumed up by my cervix. Washing out my reproductive innards would be a futile exercise. I felt a sharp knot in my stomach at the thought of that animal's sperm swimming about inside my body, searching for an egg to fertilise. I had been a virgin when he raped me, so I never used birth control; this meant I really could get pregnant by him. The thought of conceiving his child made my heart do a somersault and my pussy grew wet ... wait a minute, what? The thought of conceiving and bearing my rapist's child had actually excited me?

I shook my head clear of such contradictory reactions and began my day, stripping naked and getting into the shower. The hospital would have morning-after pills available, as a nurse I could simply requisition some for myself and maybe get some off-the-record tests done for STIs just to be safe. I relaxed as the cool water poured over my skin and smiled calmly, in spite of my situation. I could sort everything out when I got to work.



Intruder Ch. 02



(Several readers have pointed out a factual error in this story, it has now been corrected. Thank you for the input and support, and don't forget to leave a comment at the bottom if you like (or don't like) something about the story. Enjoy!) 

*

The ten minute walk to work was a blur as my mind swam with a countless array of thoughts and considerations. I had to get a morning-after pill for myself which was easy enough, but I also had to surreptitiously order a barrage of STI tests before I could be sure that I didn't have Herpes or Chlamydia or some other horrible disease. On top of that, I agonised over whether or not to report the intruder to the police. Maybe they already had his DNA on record for some other crime. How many other women had he done this to? Maybe they were too scared or too ashamed to report it. If I didn't report the attack then how many other women would he rape before someone finally did? Part of me felt that I owed it to this man's other victims, if he had any, to go to the police.

Then again, what evidence did I have for my own ordeal? If I hadn't been so quick to get in the shower I might have been able to collect some of his dried cum that leaked out of me from the previous night, but it was gone now. Besides, how many rapists did the police actually catch, let alone bring to trial or successfully convict? A mysterious guy whom I couldn't see, and therefore couldn't identify, had entered my home through an open window and raped me, leaving behind DNA evidence which I had thoughtlessly washed away. Even if any of my neighbours had overheard the attack, they would probably remember my orgasmic moans, not my cries for help which he had been careful to silence. Why go through all the trouble of a police investigation if no one would believe me?

My morning went by quickly; I quietly submitted a series of fluid samples for anonymous STI testing in between running hospital errands, but had yet to get my hands on a morning-after pill. I kept my cool well enough to pretend to my colleagues that nothing was wrong, but eventually the thoughts running through my head became too much to deal with. I went to the bathroom and locked the door.

One thought bothered me most of all: as the attack had unfolded, I had actually started to feel EXCITED by the ordeal. I simply couldn't wrap my head around it; rape was possibly the worst thing that could happen to a woman, and yet something about the experience of being physically and sexually subjugated had stirred something inside me. The mere act of recollecting the event made me wet.

My hand disappeared down my pants and began to massage my clit through my underwear. This anonymous intruder, this alpha male, had entered my bedroom in the dead of night and claimed me for his own. I remembered his powerful hand clamp over my mouth to stop me crying out for help, as his other hand slid across the skin of my thigh up to my precious womanhood, exposed and vulnerable to his touch. I imagined his manhood tease the gateway to my body before forcing his way inside me.

"...Unngh!" I gritted my teeth and suppressed the moan of pleasure that tried to escape my lips, slipping my hand into my panties as I did so. As I slid my fingers into my cunt I imagined his cock inside me, ravishing me, subjugating me to his will. My juices were flowing now, making squelching noises that were becoming distractingly loud. I abruptly stopped my self-pleasuring, in case someone outside were to overhear. I hurriedly washed my hands and cleaned myself up, feeling thoroughly conflicted. I had a ton of work to do today and I still had to get myself a morning-after pill; and yet I could still find the time to fantasise about my supposedly-traumatic rape the previous night. What was wrong with me?

***

I made my way to the hospital's drug storage room on the sixth floor. It was nearly 7pm, which meant that the room would be locked for the night. It was also nearly the end of my shift, so I had to get myself a morning-after pill before I went home. I waved my ID at the scanner and the door into the storage room unlocked for me. After a quick search through the refrigerated storage containers, I found a single morning-after capsule. Perfect. I shut the drug storage room behind me and put the capsule in my pocket; I could take it as soon as I got home.

The corridor was deserted; aside from myself there was only a hospital orderly, fiddling with the lock of a storage room. I walked straight past him as he opened the door and entered, presumably to fetch some cleaning supplies. I furrowed my brow a little at this, since when did orderlies double as janitors?

A masculine hand appeared from nowhere and clamped firmly over my mouth. A spike of sheer terror pierced my heart and I screamed into his hand as he dragged me into the storage room, my cries for help reduced to muffled squeaks. He shut the door behind him and threw me to the ground. To my surprise I did not land on the hard floor, but on a mattress. My attacker flicked on the lights and I saw that the room was filled with hospital mattresses, sheets, linen, and other paraphernalia. I looked over my shoulder and got a look at my attacker for the first time, with no doubt in my mind that this was the man who had raped me the previous night.

He was indeed handsome; he was clean shaven with two green eyes set into a chiselled, masculine face and a head of short, dark hair. He was dressed in the white uniform of a hospital orderly which barely contained his muscled physique. I took in all of this in the brief glance I got before he pounced on me, forcing his body between my legs again. I knew what was going to happen next, and my heart was pounding in fearful anticipation. He grabbed a handful of cloth and shoved it into my mouth to keep me quiet and pressed his full body weight onto me, trapping me beneath him. I felt him shifting about and heard him pull his pants down before grabbing mine and yanking them down as well, along with my panties. I was totally frozen, too terrified even to spit out the cloth in my mouth, lest he decide to physically hurt me. I made one last token effort to struggle against him, but it was no use.

With one hand gently clasping the back of my neck, I felt him use the other to guide his manhood towards my pussy. My cheeks burned with shame as I felt my pussy tingle in sexual anticipation. The tingle became a rush of involuntary excitement which gripped my heart as the head of his penis touched my labia. He rubbed the head of his cock up and down my entrance, teasing me, taunting me with my body's aroused reaction to his probing. Another wave of arousal swept through me, coalescing in my pussy as more juices began to flow from it. I remained totally still, awaiting the inevitable; this man had deflowered me and made me his own, he had found me again to remind me of that fact. Then with a gentle thrust, he entered me. I inhaled sharply as my rapist's member filled me once more. My love canal stretched obediently to accommodate his considerable length and girth, and I was once again helpless to do anything.

As with the previous night, his strokes were long and powerful at first; a muffled yelp was forced out of me every time he thrust back in. I could hear him grunting with effort as he thrust into me, clearly finding me very tight; and I winced in pain as he penetrated me to the hilt, the head of his manhood reaching all the way up to my cervix. My passage grew slicker as his thrusting continued, and the familiar feeling of arousal continued to grow in my groin and spread to my belly, in spite of the pain caused by his violation.

Sensing my increased arousal my rapist quickened his pace, planting a hand firmly between my shoulder blades to lift himself into a new position. His strokes were faster now, less controlled, like a rutting stallion atop a mare in heat. Before long the squelching sound of our coupling was audible, as was the sound of his groin slapping into my ass with each thrust.

As he continued to rape me, I lapsed into passive resignation. I no longer felt the sense of violation that I had the previous night, but the confusion over my growing arousal at this most intimate of assaults was still palpable. My rapist had shown last night that he could exercise more control over my own body than I could, and he was proving it again now. The pleasure was still welling up within me, and was building to an apex that I could barely suppress. My heart was thumping in my pussy, sent into overdrive by the masculine tool plumbing my depths with such skill. Finally it became too much.

A tsunami of ecstasy washed away any vestiges of self-control I may have had. I bucked and gyrated like a bitch in heat, and I involuntarily spat out the cloth in my mouth as I hyperventilated in sheer pleasure, unable to help myself any longer. Having brought to me to orgasm, my rapist increased his tempo once more until he was ramming me like an enraged bull. The slapping sound of our bodies slamming together must have been audible from the corridor outside, and if it wasn't then my shameless moans of lust certainly were.

At long last my rapist could hold back no longer and with one last mighty thrust and a snarl of masculine pleasure, he forced himself as deep inside me as possible. His hot seed gushed into me in one rhythmic jet after another, the sensation sending a sensual chill up and down my spine, enough to drive me into another mind blowing orgasm. He held himself inside me for a good five minutes before slumping forward onto my back. Then he swept my hair to one side and whispered directly into my ear.

"They'll all come back negative, by the way."

His accent was distinctly British and would have had me weak at the knees if I weren't already drained from the ordeal I had just undergone. I assumed he was talking about the STI tests I had ordered earlier that day, and it did occur to me to wonder how he knew I had ordered them; but in my post-coital fugue I was too exhausted to care. Having imparted his assurance to me, he got off of me and pulled himself out, making me gasp a little at the sudden emptiness. He then graciously pulled my panties and pants back up, but not before rummaging through my pockets a little. With that done, I heard him redress himself and take his leave, not bothering to turn out the lights.

I lay there for about ten more minutes, overwhelmed by the experience of being raped twice by the same man in less than 24 hours. I knew even before I eventually got up and patted down my pockets that he had confiscated the morning-after pill I had. The drug storage room was now locked for the night and, it being Saturday tomorrow, I wouldn't be allowed back in accept as a patient. The reasons were all buried in the legal nonsense of my employment contract, which stipulated that I would only work on the weekdays except for covering some weekend and night-time shifts. In any case, my chance to avert pregnancy with a morning-after pill had come and gone.

***

My thought processes were thoroughly confounded on the way home. I had always had private fantasies about being ravished, but I had always been horrified by the thought of actual rape. This just wasn't supposed to happen. Worse still, I could no longer deny to myself that a substantial part of me had enjoyed be taken against my will. I had even gotten wet, not just from remembering the attack, but at the idea of getting pregnant as a result of it. Was it my body that betrayed my mind or my mind which had betrayed my body? These questions raced round and round in my head even as I felt a little trickle of wetness seep into my panties. I knew it was his semen leaking out of me, and that a gallon of it was swimming around in my reproductive organs seeking out a viable egg to fertilise, and colonise my womb with his DNA. That thought didn't make me shudder or retch, though. If anything, it gave me a strangely fuzzy feeling, which only added to my emotional turmoil.

Was that why he had raped me? To hijack my body's reproductive functions and force me to give birth to his child? Did he get off on that the way I seemed to get off on him forcing himself inside me? The thought of being forced to bear a child made me shiver, but whether in pleasure or horror was totally unclear. I unconsciously rested my hand on my belly, picturing myself with a baby bump, imagining the bundle of cells grow into an embryo and then into a full-sized foetus, a potent physical reminder of its father's conquest of my body. I actually sighed aloud, somehow calmed by the idea of pregnancy.

As I approached my apartment, my mind was still in chaos over what had happened to me in the span of a night and a day; but I knew that whatever the identity of my rapist, it wouldn't be the last I saw of him.

How right I was.



Intruder Ch. 03



(Here is part 3 of my Intruder series. Please feel free to post a comment once you finish reading, especially if you have criticisms about the story. No criticism, no improvements. Also, if you object to rape-themed erotic fiction, then what the hell are you doing here? Finally, to those of you with no such objections, if you would like a part 4, just say so below.) 

*

Once I got back to my apartment, I stripped off completely for a shower. Not my usual routine at the end of the day, but then my daily routine didn't usually include being raped by a complete stranger at home and again at work. I needed to clear my mind, and a nice relaxing shower was the best way to do that.

I padded into my bathroom, completely naked, turned on the water, and stepped in. As the cool water poured down my skin, the quagmire of confusion and conflicting feelings slowly washed away. But even though the cool shower calmed me, questions continued to pop up in my mind. Who was he? Why me? How did he know I had ordered the STI tests? How long had he been following me for?

I shook my head clear of the sudden wave of questions. I was supposed to be feeling relaxed. Yet still, the thoughts kept re-emerging. I simply couldn't help feeling that this mysterious rapist had chosen me, that it wasn't a random act of opportunity. He had chosen me as his victim, to ambush me in the night, subjugate me, inseminate me, and breed me. Clearly his intention was to breed me, or else he wouldn't have followed me to the hospital and confiscated the morning-after pill. A man's sperm can survive inside a woman for up to 7 days, and it had been a week and a half since my last period, so my impregnation was essentially guaranteed.

My powerlessness to stop my own body conceiving a child, and a rapist's child at that, caused that ambiguous shiver of fear and excitement to return to my body. My hand slipped down, unbidden, between my legs, and I began to touch myself in the shower. If I was going to bear a child, then at least the father was an alpha male, powerful and assertive, handsome and physically imposing. My baby would be strong and healthy like its father, and I could be content that I had been bred by a true man with an animal streak.

Before long I was frigging myself in the shower, something I normally didn't do, totally oblivious to the irony that I was fantasising about my rapist. I began to moan softly, picturing his cock inside me, thrusting inside me, spewing its masculine payload into me. My fingers were a poor substitute for my first and only cock, but he wasn't there to fill me ... at least, that's what I thought.

The shower curtain was dramatically swept to one side and I actually screamed in fright. The intruder was back, and he was stark naked. His hand clamped down over my mouth, cutting off my scream, and he stepped into the shower with me, eyeing me up and down with a devilish smile. Still terrified by the intruder, I got my first real look at the man who had taken my virginity against my will.

The intruder had short, dark hair, dazzling green eyes, and a handsome, clean shaven face that looked like it had been chiselled from stone. His body, too, looked like it had been carved by Michelangelo, with thick, well defined muscles that had been toned to the perfection of a male model, and a totally hairless chest. His body glistened as the shower water poured down his chest like rain on a window, and I would have actually swooned at the sight of such a man if I hadn't been so frightened.

His body was pressed up against me, and I felt my stomach being poked by something. I looked down and yelped at the sight of his erection. It was nearly seven inches long and over an inch and a half thick. The sight and size of it terrified me. With one hand still clamped firmly over my mouth, he gripped his horse-cock with the other and guided it for the third, and probably not the final time, towards my womanhood. As the head of his manhood made contact with my nether-lips, my fear-induced paralysis was dramatically broken by a surge of pleasure welling up inside my groin. Nonetheless, my rapist's overwhelming presence and proximity had rendered me incapable of even the mildest resistance. I winced as he entered me, filling me to the brim once more. Then, pressing his massive chest against mine, he leaned into my ear and whispered to me.

"You didn't think I would leave you alone just like that, did you darling?" his British elocution caused any remaining vestiges of defiance to wash away with the shower water, "yours is the best pussy I've had in a long time, and I won't stop fucking you until I've filled that gorgeous belly of yours with a baby ... my baby." His voice and accent were exquisite, but his words made my fear and bodily excitement acute. It was one thing to theorise that his plan all along had been to impregnate me against my will, but hearing it from his own lips chilled me to the bone whilst making my pussy tingle with distinctly sexual anticipation. On that note, my third rape commenced.

There was less room to manoeuvre in the shower, so the intruder's initial thrusting wasn't as deep as before, but he still made me squeak with pain every time he thrust himself back in to me. My thighs were spread pretty awkwardly with his thrusting hips lodged firmly between them, and my hands now gripped his powerful shoulders for balance as he fucked me. He had released his hold on my mouth in order to grasp my hips as he fucked me, and he had rested his head beside mine, grunting directly into my ear with each stroke.

Eventually, my rapist reached down, placed a hand behind my knee, and lifted my leg as far up as he could before continuing the rape. Now forced to stand on only one leg, I wrapped my arms around his neck, more fearful of toppling over than of my ongoing ordeal. The shower water running down our bodies caused a watery smacking noise as his hips slammed into mine. My feminine passageway was also becoming slicker, I could feel it, and so could he.

Just as the predictable wave of pleasure began to bloom inside me, the intruder began to quicken his strokes and his grunts became louder and more bestial. This time I tried to fight it, I tried to focus on something else, anything that would suppress the impending and humiliating orgasm that signified his control over me. As if sensing my resistance, my rapist quickened his strokes again, increasing the tempo to a wild frenzy, and mercilessly mashing his groin against my clitoris.

"When a woman has an orgasm," he growled into my ear, his refined accent tinged with animalistic lust, "the contractions she feels aren't just her cunt muscles milking the man's cock for everything its worth, it's her cervix sucking up all of the cum getting pumped into her. Your body has been aiding and abetting my conquest of it every time we couple. How does that make you feel, my sweet?"

It made me feel all kinds of things, overwhelming the feeble resistance I had tried to put up against my oncoming orgasm. It made me feel disgusted at my own body for betraying me, it made me feel frightened and dirty, it made me feel like putty in the hands of this extraordinary man, as a woman it made me feel excited succumbing to my hormones and my natural urges, it made me feel ...

"...Unnngh!" I squealed out loud as the orgasm swept all my thoughts away, and totally succumbed to the raw pleasure that my rapist's masculine tool was giving me. Feeling my orgasm, he accelerated his strokes once again until I thought he might split me apart with his frenzied rutting. Sophisticated accent or not, he was little more than a caveman now, savagely asserting his ownership of and power over a hapless female, subjugating her to his will by subjecting her to his lust. Then finally he roared into my ear, I mean literally roared, and came inside me once again. I felt his seed bloom inside me for the second time that day, spurt after spurt filling me up. I was still in the throes of my orgasm, and the sensation of being filled with his seed cascaded with my ongoing climax, causing me to buck like a mare in heat.

In the midst of my orgasmic hysteria I was still able to notice some new sensations. As our orgasms collided, the walls of my pussy were rippling in such a way that it actually was milking the sperm out of his cock. I could actually feel the contractions in my vagina and at the base of my womb; he was right, my body was sucking his sperm out of his cock and drawing it deeper into me. My body really WAS helping my rapist to complete his conquest of me.

I was utterly spent when the flood-waters of my ecstasy finally subsided. I held my rapist close, needing some emotional anchor to keep me from being swept out to sea by the sensations brought on by this most intimate of intrusions. The intruder's own ecstasy took a while longer to subside as he held himself inside me, making absolutely sure that his seed would take hold in my womb. Then finally he pulled out of my pussy. A dollop of his cum spilled from my vagina as his deflating cock withdrew from me. He slowly relaxed his hold and I slipped from his arms, sliding down the wall of the shower until I was slumped in the corner, panting like a parched dog, my legs spread wide as our mingled fluids dribbled from my slit.

My third-time rapist stood over me, admiring his conquest, and was clearly pleased with his handiwork. Then after a moment of silent triumph, he switched off the water in the shower and left me there. I heard a shuffling as he gathered up some clothes, presumably his own, and then the door to the bathroom opened and shut. I was alone again.

I don't know how long I was slumped there for, but it was a while before I could muster enough strength to pick myself up off the ground. In spite of my grogginess, I was vaguely aware of the wet, sticky trickle of cum that had seeped out of my violated pussy and down to my ass crack. It was only a trickle because most of it had already been jetted deep into my body. I turned the shower water back on and gave myself a scrubbing down, particularly between my legs, before finishing my interrupted shower.

I found that the intruder had taken all of my clothes with him, for what perverted reasons I didn't care to guess, before leaving, so I dried myself down and put on a bathrobe instead. My mind had once again been thrown into turmoil by this man and his serial violation of me. Worst of all, the events of the last 24 hours dominated my thought processes. Was this the last time he was going to rape me? Would he continue to rape me until I had morning sickness or until it was too late to get an abortion? Did I even want an abortion? How would I raise a child as a single parent on a nurse's salary? Those questions spun round and round my head like bits of debris in a tornado; and I was Dorothy, holding on for dear life as the house that was my mind was spun round and round and ...

I decided I would go straight to bed tonight, I simply wasn't hungry, and I didn't want to think about anything. Simply being awake was making me think way too much, and it was driving me insane. Lock all the doors and windows beforehand, and then jump straight into bed, that was my plan for the evening. I had the whole weekend to sort out the mess that my life had become; right now I needed to rest.

***

As I exited the bathroom and headed to my bedroom, I decided that it might be a good idea to get something to eat after all. As I turned the corner into the kitchen I yelped in fright. The intruder was right there, sitting at my kitchen table waiting for me, finishing a plate of biscuits and cold cuts. At least now he was fully dressed, wearing a dark tracksuit and black turtle-neck.

"You should eat something," he suggested endearingly, gesturing to a plate of food at the opposite place, "you'll need your strength."

"I'm not hungry," I lied defiantly.

"Even so," he replied calmly, "you should eat." I didn't answer him. I simply stood there in my bathrobe, my obstinate stare belying the fact that I was once again frozen stiff with fear. Seeing that I wasn't budging, he suddenly became serious.

"Don't make me come over there and force you into that chair, my dear" his voice was ever so calm as he spoke, made all the more compelling by his British accent, but there was a distinct undertone of menace that scared me into compliance. Without saying a word, I sat down opposite him and began to eat. Sharing a meal with a man who'd just raped me for the third time in a row was the last thing I wanted to do right then, but I was genuinely afraid that he might hurt me if I were too defiant, so I devoured the plate of food in front of me. He sat there like the master of the house, sipping a glass of fruit juice with a look of smug satisfaction playing around the corners of his lips.

"Why are you still here?" I demanded, sounding a lot more courageous than I actually felt.

"Because you have yet to conceive," he responded.

"So is this the part where you kidnap me, lock me in a basement, and turn me into a sex slave for the rest of my life?" I asked, fearfully wondering whether this might be his ultimate plan for me. He chuckled with amusement.

"I did consider that plan for a while," he confessed, "I could certainly have the requisite facilities prepared if I wanted to. But sadly, you can't just make someone disappear; sooner or later someone would notice that you had vanished. There were other considerations as well, but I have no intention of locking you up in a cellar."

"Then, what are you going to do with me?" I asked with trepidation.

"I'm going to stay here, with you" he answered, "and keep filling that juicy little cunt of yours with my seed until it takes root." I was speechless with horror.

"Y ... you ... you're not staying here!" I stammered in objection.

"I most certainly will, my dear" he replied matter-of-factly, "as will you, all day, every day, until you become pregnant. Then I will make absolutely certain that you carry it to term."

"But, my job at the hospital," I countered, grasping at straw excuses "my colleagues will notice if I don't turn up to work on Monday."

"I'm sure they will," he answered ever so calmly, "but they'll understand why." A knot began to tighten in my stomach.

"What do you mean?"

The intruder reached over to the counter and grabbed the cordless phone off of its stand. He dialled in a code and slid it across the table towards me; feeling unbearably apprehensive, I picked it up. It was my voicemail inbox, and there was one new message.

"Hello, Ms Leah Taylor, this is Dr Hatfield with the results of the tests you ordered earlier today. The good news is that you're completely STI free. The bad news, however, is that your throat swab came back positive for mononucleosis. Since you haven't reported any symptoms recently, your mono is probably still in the incubation phase. Now unfortunately there's no reliable treatment or cure available, and we don't recommend antibiotics in case of complications. So as soon as you start to experience symptoms you should stay home and get as much rest as possible until they subside. If you need any more advice, just give me a call."

I sat there, utterly speechless. He sat there, utterly self-satisfied.

"What the hell did you do?!" I demanded angrily, "I didn't order a mono test!"

"According to the hospital, you did," he responded smoothly, utterly unfazed by my outburst, "and sadly, you won't be able to go in to work next week. In fact, you won't be able to go in to work for the next six or seven weeks whilst you 'recuperate' with me."

I couldn't believe what had just transpired. I was going to be a prisoner in my own home for the next month and a half, having my brains fucked out by this devious animal whilst the rest of the world thought I was too sick to get out of bed.

"You won't get away with this," I shot back with the thickest veneer of defiance I could manage, "I'll ... I'll call the cops!"

"Oh no, please don't call the police," he exclaimed with mock pleading, "I'll go to prison for the rest of my life."

"You should have thought of that before you raped me." I said coldly, not noticing the undertone of sarcasm in his feigned begging. I snatched up the phone again and dialled 911, putting it to my ear and waiting for the operator to answer. The intruder casually reached into his pocket, pulled out a cell phone, and raised it to his own ear.

"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency." I felt the colour drain from my skin, and the phone slipped from my hand and clattered onto the table. The operator's voice was that of the intruder, speaking into his cell phone with a perfectly mimicked American accent.

"H ... how ... how did you ..." the words simply wouldn't form in my mouth. He closed his phone and put it back in his pocket.

"You should know, my dear, that I have certain skills at my disposal. Skills which will ensure that no one will come looking for you throughout the time I intend to make use of your exquisite body." He got up from his chair and moved around the table towards me. I snapped out of my paralytic disbelief and grabbed a knife off of the table, aiming it squarely at him.

"Stay the fuck away from me, you creep!" I threatened, my hand trembling. He casually raised his hands in mock surrender, whilst taking slow steps towards me.

"I said stay back!" I threatened, my voice wavering.

"You're not going to stab me, Leah." He said confidently, continuing to advance forward. I lunged forward with the knife, and he seized my tiny wrist in one massive hand, twisting the knife out of my grip, and twisting my arm all the way behind my back. He wrapped his other arm all the way around my body, pinning my other arm to my side and bear hugging me against his chest. My heart skipped several beats as I realised I had just made a huge mistake.

"That was unbelievably stupid of you, my sweet," he whispered directly into my ear, "now, I'm not going to hurt you unless it becomes absolutely necessary; but believe you me, that very nearly qualified."

"P ... please," I pleaded, terrified tears welling up in my eyes, "...don't kill me."

"I think we've already established what I want from you, Leah. Needless to say, killing or seriously injuring you would drastically impede my efforts to breed you." he answered, his breath on my ear making me shiver with fear, and sending yet another infuriatingly inappropriate tingle of pleasure down to my groin, "however, now that you'll be staying home with me, there are a few ground rules you need to be aware of."

My rapist, and now de-facto owner, released my wrist and wrapped his newly free arm around my body to keep me still, then slipped his hand into my bathrobe, cupping one of my breasts in his palm. The feel of his hands on my bare flesh sent another tingle buzzing down my spine all the way to my pussy, which was starting to moisten once again in response to this barbarian's touch.

"Number one: your body is mine to use, I will take it wherever, and whenever I wish to. Number two: you will do whatever I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it, without complaint."

He started to use his finger and thumb to massage my nipples; making me shiver with definite pleasure and my cheeks burn with shame.

"Number three: you will not attempt to leave the flat unless I give you explicit permission to do so. I will come and go in order to purchase food and supplies as necessary, whilst you remain here. Number four: any attempt to ambush me or injure me in any way, with or without a weapon, will make me hurt you back, a lot. You are, however, permitted to try to fight back when I take you; in fact, I like it when you struggle."

Now he brought both his hands to bear and, pulling open my bathrobe to expose my breasts, began to expertly manipulate my nipples. Soon they were both erect and a low moan of pleasure escaped my lips before I could seal my mouth in shame.




Intruder Ch. 03



"And last but not least, number five: from now on, you will address me as 'sir'. Is all of that understood?"

"...Yes." I murmured submissively. He viciously twisted one of my nipples, eliciting a sharp cry of pain from me.

"Yes...what?" he prompted, whispering gently in my ear.

"Yes sir." I whimpered.

"There's a good girl." With one hand still caressing my breasts, his other hand slid down my belly, pausing to play with my jewelled navel piercing before sliding all the way down to my womanhood. He slipped two fingers inside me, making me gasp at the sudden intrusion as his fingers began to move inside me, "there's a very good girl; no wonder your pussy is so tight, and so eager for more."

He was right, the fear and arousal that his ministrations were evoking in me were becoming difficult to suppress. An increasingly large part of me genuinely wanted this as his fingers wriggled inside my snatch, making me wetter than ever. Then he withdrew his fingers from my love-tunnel and lifted them up to my mouth.

"Why don't you have a taste," he commanded me, so gently that it almost sounded like a suggestion. His fingers were sticky and dripping wet from a combination of my copious lubricant and his semen, still there from his most recent conquest of my body. It smelt a little unappetising, but I did as I was told and opened my mouth. He stuck his fingers in all the way towards the back of my throat and slowly withdrew them as I closed my lips. The taste was a little salty, mixed with the tang of an aroused female; I had just tasted myself, mingled with the seed of the man who would be the father of my child.

With one arm still wrapped across my chest, the intruder reached down and hooked his other arm behind my knees. I yelped in surprise as I was literally swept off my feet, wrapping my arms around his neck for support. He carried me effortlessly to my bedroom, shutting the door behind him and dumping me rather unceremoniously on the bed.

He began stripping off his clothing even as I scooted back towards the wall to get away from him. I wrapped my bathrobe across my naked breasts, feeling weak with fearful excitement, and knowing full well what was about to happen next. When he was totally naked and stood before me at the foot of the bed, I sat there in awe at his physique, even though I had already seen it up close. His perfectly defined six pack and pectorals, his powerful arms and shoulders, his equally powerful and toned thighs, and his magnificent masculine apparatus. His horse-like manhood was already fully erect with a pair of plum sized testicles dangling below them.

He climbed onto the bed and crawled towards me, the hapless female about to be mounted by an aggressive alpha male. I put up a token resistance to him as he yanked my bathrobe open again, ineffectually beating my fists against his shoulders and chest as he forced my legs apart and positioned himself between them. But my feeble attempts to resist him were useless and we both knew it.

Whilst holding me in place with one hand planted firmly on my chest, the intruder took hold of his hard-on in the other hand and rubbed the glistening purple head against the soaking gateway to my womanhood, causing waves of pleasure to shudder through me. Then, for the fourth time in less than 24 hours, he entered me.

I gasped in awe at the sensation of being filled by his throbbing manhood. This was only the fourth time I had been fucked, and the tightness of my pussy still made the feeling of his huge cock inside it somewhat painful, particularly when he started to thrust inside me. As before, his strokes were long and powerful, taking care to make me yelp as my body tried to accommodate the rock-hard intruder within my depths.

But something was different this time. As he humped me, my rapist bent down and kissed me. His tongue invaded my surprised and already gaping mouth, mirroring the intrusion between my legs. He grasped my head and kissed me passionately. Not knowing how else to respond, I kissed him back, accepting him as my lover and not just my rapist. My heart began to beat faster with excitement at the feeling of being made love to and not just fucked like a blow-up doll. I mustered up the courage to break off the kiss in order to ask him something I needed to know.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked. My answer was a quick slap across the face.

"Rule number 5?" He prompted gruffly, thrusting more roughly to impress the point.

"Why are you doing this, sir?" I repeated, my cheek smarting from the blow.

"Because I need to." was the answer, delivered with an undertone of primal desire.

"You need to break into women's homes and rape them in their own beds?"

"That is the means," he replied, shortening his strokes but keeping the slow pace, "the end goal is to realise my control as a man over you as a woman. Women are sexually subordinate to men, and the power we have over you can only be truly realised through this act."

"We're not inferior to men," I objected, stung by his words, "and rape has nothing to do with sex, it's a tool of fear used by men to keep women in their place."

"So deliciously naïve," my rapist replied with a chuckle, quickening his strokes, "rape IS sex, and sex is what makes women subordinate, not inferior, to men."

"But...that doesn't mean we should be subordinate to you," I argued back indignantly, "just because you're bigger and stronger than us...sir" Had I been a neutral observer, I would have laughed at the absurdity of this situation. I was arguing in favour of feminism with a rapist, WHILE he was raping me.

"The question isn't a normative one," he answered, his erudite elocution belying the increasing forcefulness of his thrusts, "you, as a gender, are designed to be entered, and we are designed to enter you. Our capacity to invade you sexually is a physiological fact; and once we're inside, you cannot dislodge us until we're satisfied. Why else do you think you get so wet when I fill you?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. If he had been a simple misogynist or an unshaven pervert in a trench coat who raped women because he could, then it would have been easy to understand. But to be raped by a man and at the same time listen to him eloquently explain his rationale for violating me in this way was blowing my mind.

"Furthermore, when a woman becomes pregnant she has to carry the man's DNA within her body for nine months as it grows inside her. Then, after a gruelling process of delivering the end result into the world, she has to raise the fruit of that mating, which may have occurred with or without her consent, for years afterwards; and all I, as a male, have to do to force you to undergo such a profound and long term experience is to enter and inseminate you." My rapist leaned in close to me, put his mouth to my ear, and whispered slowly, "That is a LOT of power."

Those words made me shudder with a terrifying combination of horror, excitement, and pure lust. The realisation his words were sparking in my mind terrified and awed me. Women were surpassing men in all kinds of areas, and yet a man could be an illiterate beast and all he needed to force a woman into complete submission was the apparatus between his legs. This fact also set off another flow of juices in my pussy, and my intruder quickened the rhythm of his strokes again in response, creating audible squelching sounds as he rutted me.

"I don't have any hatred or disdain for women," my rapist continued, thrusting harder and harder now "your capacity to create life within your bodies and bring it into the world is a miraculous one, but that miracle requires a man to bring about. I'm not just asserting my physical and sexual dominance over you; I'm helping you fulfil your purpose as a woman by causing you to bear a child, my child."

It was true, it FELT true. I had been so terrified of being raped and impregnated whilst enjoying my fantasies about those things in private. Yet it felt so natural to actually experience those sensations in the flesh, as it were. It felt wonderful to have a man between my legs satisfying his basest urges deep inside me, and forcing me to bear the consequences of those urges long after he was gone. I wrapped my arms around his muscular torso, gripping his shoulders with my hands whilst I raised my ankles into the air and locked them together behind the small of his back. I wanted him to take me and to do it harder.

His thrusting became faster, more aggressive, as my feminine passageway grew slicker and slicker with the liquid proof of my acquiescence. He lifted himself into a push-up position and renewed his rutting with a bestial intensity, pinning my wrists to the bed as he dominated me. I was shifting my hips as he fucked me, thrusting them back at him as the intensity of our mating continued to build. My heart was throbbing in my pussy now, and I looked down to my crouch where his groin was slamming into mine with growing fury, the slapping sound that resulted echoing through the room. His rock-solid manhood was a blur, constantly disappearing into me and filling me so completely that I was breathless with pleasure. I could feel his balls too, slapping into my ass as our mating progressed, filled to the brim with his potent, life-giving seed.

As before, my orgasm hit me first, sweeping through me like flood-waters from a burst dam. I twitched and bucked, crying out in pure lust and ecstasy, and yanking my hands free of my rapist in order to claw at his back and pull him closer in. Shortly thereafter, his own orgasm arrived and with a deliciously, masculine roar, he forced himself as far inside me as possible, the tip of his cock pressing right against my cervix. At the same time he wrapped his hands behind my shoulders and lifted me off the bed, holding me close to his body. I held him closer still and flung my head back, still in the throes of my own ecstasy.

He had already inseminated me twice in the past two or three hours, and yet he ejaculated like never before, shooting jets of hot cum deep into my pussy, with some of it entering my womb. I was still orgasming when he finally came, and the extraordinary sensation of being filled with this man's seed piled into my still ongoing climax, causing me to actually pass out from the pleasure.

***

When I awoke the room was pitch black and I was lying upside down. As my mind oriented itself, I realised that I wasn't actually upside down; I was just lying on my stomach instead of on my back. Furthermore, I was sprawled on top of a broad, masculine torso with a pair of powerful arms wrapped across my back. The position was actually very cosy; the only discomfort was the odd trickling sensation coming from my snatch as my pussy dribbled cum onto the intruder's belly.

I wrapped my arm across my rapist's massive chest, laying my head down next to his own. In response, he reached a hand up and began to stroke my hair. I smiled contentedly at that, and curled up around him even more. This man had intruded into my life and into me in the most intimate way possible; but in spite of the violation he had inflicted on me it felt good to snuggle with him, it felt better still that he was cuddling me back. I felt safe in my rapist's arms, and the irony wasn't lost on me.

"Boy or girl?" I whispered into his ear.

"I didn't catch that, Leah." was the stern response.

"Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?" I repeated, "Sir."



Intruder Ch. 04



(You asked for it and here it is, chapter 4. Comments and criticism are welcome and encouraged, but if you're not into rape themed erotic fiction, then I suggest you stop reading right now. For everybody else, please enjoy!)




I awoke to a queasy feeling in my stomach rising gradually towards my throat. I slipped out of bed and padded, naked, to the bathroom before dry heaving into the sink. I looked up at my reflection in the mirror, pale faced from nausea, and unconsciously rested a hand on my belly. The dry heaving returned and I drank a glass of water to calm my stomach.

The door to the bathroom opened and a familiar pair of hands grabbed me by the hips and began to slide across my belly and waist, making my skin tingle with sensual pleasure.

"You sound a little out of sorts, my dear." said my intruder, leaning forward over my shoulder and planting his lips on my neck. The sensation made me shiver and a moist feeling bloomed in my crotch.

"I'm fine, thank you sir." I replied a little dreamily as my rapist-lover caressed me.

"Is there something you need to tell me?" my intruder asked. He planted his palms firmly on my stomach and gazed expectantly at my reflection in the mirror. I finally relented.

"I'm pregnant." I admitted slowly.

He didn't respond for a good long minute, then his grasp loosened on my belly, but his embrace tightened slightly, pressing me protectively against his own naked body.

"When did you know?" he asked me.

"I woke up a week ago and just felt ... different," I replied with a blissful tone that was quite at odds with the bout of nausea that had just forced me out of bed. A broad smile broke out across his face.

"Very good," he said approvingly, resuming his exploration of my body, "you'll look beautiful with a baby bump." One hand rested on my stomach and he began to play with my belly piercing, "but you'll have to take this out." I covered my piercing with a protective hand.

"But I like my piercing." I said in a tone that was a little whinier than I would have liked.

"So do I," he replied endearingly, giving my stomach a playful scratch, "but as your abdomen expands, it will become far less comfortable to wear."

"But I'm not even showing yet," I protested. He gave my piercing a harsh tug, eliciting a sharp spike of pain in my navel.

"Rules 2 & 5?" He prompted sternly.

"I understand, sir." I answered submissively, hanging my head like a disciplined puppy. He took hold of my chin and lifted my mouth towards his, pulling me into a sensual kiss. I instinctively kissed him back, allowing his tongue to invade my mouth. The intimacy of the kiss made my body shiver and sent a sexual tingle down to my womanhood. He broke off the kiss and spoke to me.

"You can keep it in for now," he said graciously, "but it has to come out by the end of the first trimester. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir." was my obedient response. With that he resumed the kiss. One hand held me by the cheek, keeping me in place for the kiss. The other hand massaged my belly before slipping down to my crotch. My labia were moist with pleasure, and I began to moan into his mouth as he fondled the most intimate part of my body. I could feel his manhood growing harder and harder, poking into my ass cheek. He was pleasuring me to make me more pliable in satisfying his own needs.

He abruptly broke off the kiss and planted his free hand between my shoulder blades, pushing my face down over the sink. I put out my hands to stop my head from hitting the tap while he used his feet to force my legs apart and his other hand to position the head of his cock at the entrance to my dripping snatch.

I gasped aloud as he entered me, his massive member filling me up to the hilt. After six weeks of constant fucking, my cunt had become well ploughed indeed. Gone was the pain of the first few times he had forced himself inside me, now it was pure bliss.

Taking a firm hold of my hips, my intruder thrust himself into me, keeping his strokes long and powerful, and pulling my hips back into his groin. I stood there, bent over the sink, moaning like the submissive, horny bitch I had become, content to let him spill his seed inside me again.

Unexpectedly, he took one hand off my hips and grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking my head backwards. The tugging on my scalp hurt, yet it was also strangely erotic, and I acquiesced in the new sensations he was forcing me to undergo.

My love-canal grew slicker and slicker as his thrusting grew fiercer and less restrained. With one hand still tugging on my hair, his other hand took a firm hold on my belly, massaging it with the utmost care even as his strokes began to produce wet slapping noises that echoed around the small bathroom.

"Your belly will grow bigger and bigger as my child grows inside you," my rapist/lover whispered into my ear with barely restrained masculine lust, "and when the time comes, you will squeeze our child out from between your legs, and only then will you truly become a woman." His words chimed with my feminine instincts as my ecstasy continued to build throughout my body. I could feel the new life growing inside me, and it was all because of him. It was his virile seed that had filled me, just as he was threatening to fill me again.

My orgasm broke over me like a wave on a rock, making me cry out in pleasure, bucking and heaving as the ecstasy washed through me. My rapist-lover accelerated his rutting to a bull-like frenzy in response to my orgasm, and I ground my ass into his groin in reciprocal fucking motions, trying to get as much of his cock into me as possible. His seed had already been planted deep in my belly, but I needed him to fill me again. A few moments later I got my wish.

The intruder thrust himself into me as deep as he could possibly go, the tip of his cock actually touching my cervix, and he ejaculated with a bestial snarl. I felt his semen fill my pussy in successive hot, sticky jets, thoroughly inseminating me as he had done so many times before. Once again, my orgasm collided with his, and I almost blacked out from the combined climax that resulted.

Over the course of several long minutes, his seminal jets became spurts, and the spurts became dribbles; and then finally, he pulled out of me. I slumped forward over the sink, utterly wasted from this latest nighttime romp as the intruder cleaned himself up before carefully leading me back to bed.

***

He gingerly laid me down on the mattress, his cum still oozing from my slit, before heading back to the bathroom. I was too exhausted to move, but still not so tired that I could doze off back to sleep again. My nausea was gone for now, but it would probably come back fairly soon, especially given that it was morning sickness. Instead, I lay there, idly playing with my recently refilled snatch and picturing my latest rape in lurid detail.

I wasn't even sure it still qualified as rape anymore. Certainly, he would fuck me whether I wanted to or not, but just as he had conquered my body by impregnating me, so he had almost conquered my mind with the exquisite pleasure he made me undergo every time he forced himself inside me.

As my post-orgasmic fugue gradually subsided, however, the details of my situation returned to me. For the past six weeks this intruder had raped me on a daily and nightly basis, determined to impregnate me against my will. Sometimes I pleaded, and fought, and cried, but mostly I submitted for fear of harsh reprisals, then squealed with ecstasy as he fucked me; and he still hadn't told me who he was.

The intruder exited the bathroom and went into the kitchen, working on god knew what. I hadn't told him I was pregnant out of fear of what would happen once the baby was born. Why had my rapist chosen me? Would he disappear once it was too late for an abortion, or once I had given birth? Would he try to take the child with him once it was born? To the UK or some other place? The possibility of my child being taken away from me made me gasp aloud in horror, and I hugged my belly protectively. It may not have been my choice to conceive it, but this baby was MINE. After all that I had been through, I would rather die than let anyone take it away from me.

He returned from the kitchen, still naked, and clambered into bed next to me. I sidled away to give him space, but he rolled over and wrapped his arm around me, seeking out my precious abdomen.

"It's still only four in the morning," he said, caressing my belly, "you should try to get some more sleep."

"I can't sleep." I replied.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know anything about you," I twisted my head around to glare at him in the darkness, and let loose, "you came out of no where, raped me, impregnated me, made me a sex slave in my own home, and I don't even know your name. You're from Britain and you're some kind of spy with 'certain skills', whatever that means, but other than that I'm completely in the dark. As the mother of your child, I think you owe me an answer or two." I finished my frustrated rant and then nervously added, "sir." The intruder paused for a long time before answering, perhaps weighing up whether and how to punish me for talking back.

"Alright, darling" he answered after a while, "you can call me James."

"Am I carrying Bond Junior?" I asked sarcastically.

"No," he acknowledged, "but I can't tell you my full name."

"Otherwise you'd have to kill me," I huffed, rather unsatisfied that the father of my child wouldn't even tell me his real name. At that, 'James' took hold of one of my nipples and twisted it, making me yelp in pain.

"You shouldn't be so surly, sweetheart," the intruder admonished.

"I'm sorry," I whimpered.

""I'm sorry" what?" He prompted me sternly.

"I'm sorry ... James." I started to cry a little. He reached for my cheek and turned my head towards him, kissing me lovingly on the lips.

"Don't cry, Leah," he said, more like a man to his lover than a master to his slave girl, "you can call me James if you want. Just be more respectful next time." I figured he wasn't going to risk inflicting any injuries on a woman pregnant with his child, so I snuffled and took his word for it.

"What else would you like to know?" the intruder asked me tenderly, brushing my hair out of the way and caressing my cheek with his thumb.

"Will you take my child away when you leave?" I asked fearfully.

"No," he said categorically, "you carry it, you raise it. I'll give you necessary support for the child from time to time, but it's yours to care for." The relief that swept over me was tremendous, and I snuggled into his embrace. "You didn't think I was going to sell our baby on the black market did you?"

"Don't joke about that, please." I said uncomfortably, "I really was afraid that was part of your plan for me."

"Well you can rest assured that it's not," he assured me, his hand slipping down to my breasts again, tending to my twisted nipple, "besides, the most important part of womanhood is motherhood, and you can't be a mother without a child to care for."

"How many other women have you said that to?" I asked.

"I've had quite a few women before you, not all of them willing." he acknowledged, I felt a very curious twinge of jealousy tug at my heart strings. Why the hell would I be jealous of other women who had been raped by the same man as me?

"How much longer will you stay with me?" I asked him.

"You'll have to go back to work the Monday after next," the Intruder replied, "I'll leave a little before that."

"And then you'll move onto the next one." I said with genuine dejection creeping into my voice.

"Yes," he admitted. Now the jealousy become palpable.

"Why do men have to go round fucking all the women they see?" I complained indignantly, holding my intruder responsible for half the human race.

"Because it's to our evolutionary advantage," he replied coolly, "the kind of man who sticks around to help raise the children that he thinks he's sired is a beta male, and I am not a beta."

"That's not true at all," I answered, taking hold of his hand and clasping it tenderly in mine "nice guys don't finish last."

""Nice guys" don't finish at all." he quipped in response, "a man's best evolutionary strategy is to breed as many women as possible, and not get tied down with any one woman."

"But we're the ones who have to bear the consequences of getting fucked," I continued, a little sulkily "it'd be nice to have a little bit of help once you've "scored"." His hand slipped from my grasp and slid across my belly down to my womanhood.

"Which is why a woman's best strategy involves persuading a man to stay with her, or at least to visit frequently enough to help look after her children," his fingers discovered my clitoris and began to tease it ever so gently, causing a silent gasp to escape my mouth, "and that is why women fear rape so much, and why so many feminists are in denial over the fact that rape and consensual sex are one and the same act." His teasing of my clitoris became more vigorous, and I curled up defensively in response to his probing, "women are horrified by rape because it targets your reproductive strategy at its most vulnerable point, conquering you through the very act you use to convince a partner of your choosing to stay a little longer: the act of sexual intercourse."

"Do you really believe that?" I asked him, the growing pleasure in my groin starting to disrupt my focus.

"It makes the most sense," said my rapist, rubbing my pleasure-button with exquisite finesse, "great feminist philosophers like Susan Brownmiller expend so much energy trying unsuccessfully to prove that rape is unnatural, even though it occurs in numerous other species, and end up back at square one; why is there rape? The obvious answer is, because it's natural."

"How can you say that?" I objected, a lot more forcefully this time, "is it 'natural' when rapists beat, humiliate, or even kill their victims?"

"Of course not," my rapist answered, unfazed by my emotional outburst, "those kinds of rapists are either pathetically inadequate or sadistic psychopaths." Now he brought his other hand to bear, and began teasing my nipples with his fingers. The tide of ecstasy was inexorably drifting in, and there was little I could do to stop it.

"I am neither of those kinds of rapist," he continued, "I may 'discipline' you from time to time, but I have no intention of physically or emotionally hurting you. I rape because it feels natural to impose my sexual instincts on a beautiful woman, and in so doing force her to carry my genes on into the next generation. Almost every man feels that urge in one way or another, but they bury the urge to rape out of fear that it will make them a 'monster' or a 'creep'. I have the balls to let my masculine instincts run wild, as they were always meant to do."

I was positively leaking cunt juice from my crotch just from listening to his sexually charged rhetoric and his wonderfully sophisticated British accent. Even six weeks on, his philosophy, if one could call it that, was still hard for me to compute. Rape was still a horrible thing ... except, my experiences told me, when 'James' did it.

His hand delved right between my thighs and levered me onto my back again. I took hold of his thick wrist and tried to get his hand away from my pussy, but he was too strong for me and effortlessly inserted three fingers into my dripping snatch. I grunted in response to the intrusion, feeling his digits wriggle inside me in a come-hither movement as he placed his palm on my pubic bone.

I've been finger fucked before, including once by a girl friend, but never like this before. My rapist - lover was probably more accurate by now - pleasured me like a pro, the tips of his fingers found my G-spot and rubbed it relentlessly. I bucked and heaved, rendered utterly helpless by the storm of pleasure that came over me. When the orgasm hit me I arched my back like a contortionist, the ecstasy filling my body to the brim for at least a whole minute. I was panting with exhaustion as he withdrew his fingers from my depths and brought them up to my lips.

"Open your mouth, Leah," he ordered me. Too orgasmically wasted to object, I obeyed his command. He stuck his dripping fingers all the way to the back of my throat, making me gag a little as I swallowed the mixture of semen and vaginal lubricant. That would probably come back up later thanks to the morning sickness. Next he put his hands between my thighs and forced them open, I tried to force them closed again but he was having none of it and yanked them wide open, positioning himself between them for the hundredth time.

"Please, I don't want to do it again so soon," I lied, begging like a slave. I tried to sit up and push him away, beating his chest with my tiny fists. Of course I knew that as a woman against such a powerful man, I may as well have been a housefly attacking a concrete wall. He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up close to him.

"You've been quite rude tonight," my intruder reproached me, his hardened cock poking at my pussy, "I think you're in need of a little more disciplining. Besides, you seem to have forgotten rule number one." With that, he pushed me onto my back again. Planting one hand on my belly, he took hold of his manhood with the other and rubbed the head up and down my dripping wet snatch before thrusting it all the way inside me.

The intruder had raped me so many times before that I had lost count, but I never failed to gasp in pleasure and sheer awe as he filled me all the way up to the hilt, forcing my vagina to stretch massively to accommodate his bull cock. The hairs all over my skin stood on end as my rapist and lover revelled in his sexual domination of my body. Then he began to thrust.

I was already slick with vaginal fluids, as well as his cum from our previous fucking, and so his initial thrusts produced wet slaps each time. His rutting began at a faster pace than usual, whilst retaining their familiar power. I yelped in response to each stroke as he made the bed creak with his movements, moving my hips in response to his thrusts. It was pitch black, and I couldn't see him. The atmosphere reminded me of the night he first took me. An intruder in the dark, a prowling rapist who had chosen me to be the mother of his child, the submissive vessel for his DNA. My yelps were now shameless moans of ecstasy as my rapist's fucking of my slick pussy increased to a relentless tempo.

Suddenly he lowered himself down on top of me until his stomach was rubbing against mine. He took hold of both my wrists with his hands and pinned them in place, positioning his head beside mine. Then he continued his rutting with renewed force. I let out girlish noises as he fucked me, too overwhelmed by his sheer masculinity to do anything except lie there and squeal.

"This is why I do what I do," he hissed into my ear, "because spilling my seed deep inside a woman's body, in full knowledge of my power to impregnate her, is the most extraordinary feeling in the world. Tell me, Leah, what does it feel like to be on the receiving end of a true man's lust?"

I could not even begin to describe the answer to his question, drowning as I was in my own lust. My slender, feminine frame was imprisoned beneath his overbearing weight, and my tiny wrists were totally encompassed by his powerful hands and pinned to the bed as he fucked me. The feeling of sheer powerlessness in the grip of this alpha male, my alpha male, mixed with the sensation of this testosterone fuelled beast rutting my pussy with his bull-like cock compounded my rapidly approaching orgasm.

When my orgasm struck, I screamed at the top of my lungs, my whole body spasmed in ecstasy. As a woman, socialised, and perhaps also evolved, to feel mortal terror at the thought of rape, I wished with all my heart, with my entire being, that every rapist in the world could be like this man.




Intruder Ch. 04



My orgasm spurred my rapist on, and he quickened his strokes to a maddening frenzy, mercilessly sawing his cock in and out of my poor, soaking love-tunnel, his massive scrotum slapping into my ass like a cushion in a pillow fight. He released my wrists and slid his hands under my shoulders to hold me closer still. I in turn wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, anchoring his body to my own as his own orgasm finally arrived.

His lust-filled snarl sounded in my ear and he forced himself as deep inside me as possible, the tip of his cock pressing against my cervix. As his manhood twitched and writhed inside me, I felt a hot explosion of sticky liquid burst inside me. Jet after jet of his virile seed filled my cunt. The feeling of his cum shooting into me slammed into my mind like a freight train and I was once again drowned in ecstasy.

We lay there in one another's arms for a good half hour as we glided down from our respective highs. I was in total bliss, idly pondering my situation. I was still conflicted over the fact that I was technically a prisoner in my own home and my own bed, and that my sexual functions were hostage to my jailer. He now had even more power over me now that I was pregnant. That being said, the last six weeks had been the most extraordinary and life-changing I had ever experienced. 

No, I hadn't forgotten rule number one; in fact, that was my favourite rule of all.

***

I awoke late, with sunlight pouring in through the window. At the beginning of September, the summer heat wave had long since dissipated. The sun was still shining, though, and I smiled blissfully as I lay there, naked and filled with my rapist's DNA. I rubbed my belly contentedly, wondering how long it would take for my condition to start showing. As I fiddled with my piercing, I started to think that he was right after all; once my belly button popped outwards, a solid metal barbell would start to make some pretty ugly stretch marks on my expanding stomach.

I rolled off of the bed and walked naked to the bathroom for a shower. As the water poured down my skin, I half expected, and half hoped, that the intruder would ambush me in the shower again. But he never came, and I ended up fingering myself to a partially satisfying release. That done, I shaved my legs, my armpits, and my pubic hair, before stepping out of the shower.

Once I was washed and dried down, I put on a knee length sundress and went to the kitchen for breakfast. The intruder was already there, and he'd prepared a full english breakfast for me, his own plate was finished. Before I could sit down, though, 'James' marched over, held me against the wall with one hand, and reached up my dress with the other, copping a thorough feel of my freshly shaven crotch.

"No underwear today?" He asked.

"You keep tearing my panties off, so I decided not to bother." I replied, not feeling terribly uncomfortable at his indecent probing.

"Fair enough." he kissed me on the lips and withdrew his hand from beneath my dress, returning to his seat and flipping open a laptop.

I sat down and devoured my breakfast with gusto. The food was delicious, he was almost as good in the kitchen as he was the bedroom. Once I was finished, I asked him if I could go out today to buy some new things. He refused, reminding me that my bosses at the hospital still thought I was recovering from mono; I would have to wait another week. I nodded obediently, more moved by his masculine authority than his logic. It just felt so natural to submit to his will, in bed and out.

"Besides, you can order what you need online," 'James' suggested.

"Sure," I agreed, "I'll bring my laptop in here."

"No, stay in your bedroom." he commanded me.

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" I asked him indignantly, before humbly adding, "sir."

"I have some business to take care of today," he replied, "I need to work alone for a few hours."

"I understand, sir." I acknowledged compliantly. Once I had finished my breakfast, I got up from the table and walked towards him. The intruder shut his laptop screen as I approached; I wrapped my arms around him and planted my lips on his neck, sucking hard to give him a hickey. He smiled and pulled me in towards him for a long, full kiss.

"I need to work now." He said in a serious tone.

"Don't work too long." I whispered to him, playfully sticking my tongue in his ear. Then released him and left him to his mysterious work.

***

I spent the next few hours surfing the web, mainly shopping for maternity garb and baby accessories, but after a while I was bored stiff. What could he be doing on a computer that was so important and time consuming that he needed to be alone to do it? If he weren't fucking me on a daily and nightly basis I'd swear he was jacking off to porn. I didn't dare interrupt him though. Eventually I shut down my laptop and lay down on my bed to think. It was much easier to objectively view my situation when I wasn't being screwed within an inch of my life by a British superman.

I was now undoubtedly a willing participant in my own imprisonment and rape. In fact, it was obvious that what had happened to me since would not even qualify as rape in a court of law. If, for some reason, I did decide to go to the police, the best argument that could be presented was that I had developed Stockholm Syndrome. 'James', obviously not his real name, had become the worst and the best thing that ever happened to me. He was certainly the most confusing.

I was still confounded by how he could justify rape to me. My intruder had violated in the worst way it was possible to violate woman, and the consequence of his crime was now growing inside my womb. As a woman, I instinctively found rape horrifying; and yet, on an even more instinctive level, I enjoyed what my rapist did to me. Over the past six weeks, I had barely gotten enough of it. I was even genuinely jealous of the unknown number of other women who had endured, or more likely enjoyed, being sexually assaulted by him. In fact, it wasn't just jealousy . . .

My hand drifted down to the crotch of my dress where a damp patch was developing. Of course I wasn't the only one, my rapist was an alpha, he probably had a harem of victims/lovers scattered across the country, if not the whole world. Men liked variety, and they needed to sire as many children as possible, of course they almost never stuck with one woman. I began to imagine watching him do to someone else what he had done to me, and pleasure bloomed in my pubic region just as it began to bloom in my dress. Perhaps he was planning his next attack, and that was why he didn't want me in the room with him. The thought of carrying the baby of a serial rapist made me feel perversely aroused, the thought of him aggressively siring children with women across the globe against their will made me gush with liquid. A moan of unequivocal arousal escaped from my mouth which he couldn't possibly have failed to hear.

I stopped my impromptu self-pleasuring and looked down at my crotch. My dress was stained with a wet blotch of vaginal secretions and would need a good wash. Feeling thoroughly guilty for fantasising about the rape traumas of my global sisters, I got up from the bed and opened my drawers to look for a new dress to wear.

The door opened abruptly and I slammed the drawer shut in surprise, making it look as though I had been up to no good. 'James' walked in, not looking the least bit suspicious.

"You've been keeping yourself entertained I trust?" He asked me in his ever-so-cultured accent.

"Y ... yes ... yessir." I replied, stammering from the surprise of his entry.

"You know you can call me James if you want to." He said, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me close to him.

"I ... don't want to." I answered haltingly.

"Why not?" he asked me. Now my confidence returned.

"Because it's obviously not your real name," I told him emphatically, "if you won't tell me your real name, then I'd rather keep calling you sir ... sir." 'Sir' paused in thought, mulling over my statement.

"Alright then." He decided, "'sir' it is. I have a few things to discuss with you anyway." He sat me down on the bed and I listened attentively, "I have a domestic flight next week, shortly before you go back to work. I have business to take care of out of state."

"So you'll be gone," I hung my head, looking and feeling dejected. He lifted my chin up with his finger.

"Don't feel so blue," my rapist said to me, "I'll be back."

"In time for the birth?" I asked him earnestly. For the first time ever, I saw his cool, confident exterior start to slip.

"I ... I don't know if I ..." Now it was my turn to be assertive. I gripped his wrist as tightly as my slender, female hand could manage and, lifting the hem of my dress up with the other, guided his hand to my stomach, planting his palm firmly on my pregnant belly.

"Promise me." I demanded, not a little apprehensive that my tone was out of place. He looked at me with his beautiful, green eyes.

"I promise."

I burst into a smile at his answer and hugged him in gratitude. His hand remained beneath my dress and gradually drifted down to my womanhood.

"That being said, I'm not sure I liked the tone you just used with me, my sweet," my intruder whispered huskily into my ear, "you'll need to be punished for that." With that, he pushed me onto the bed and began to undress. I desperately scooted away from my rapist in a futile attempt to stop him laying his hands on me again.

Once he was naked, the intruder pounced on me, covering my mouth with one hand whilst grabbing the hem of my dress with the other. I shook my head from side to side and struggled with both hands to dislodge his free hand, trying to keep him from pulling up my dress, the only thing protecting my pussy from his throbbing manhood. I thrashed my legs about also, but he was already between my thighs and ready to commence his latest violation of my body.

Finally, he slapped my hands away and yanked my dress up over my breasts, leaving my moist snatch totally exposed and vulnerable. With his horse-like member perilously close to my cunt, which dripped with welcoming lubricant, the intruder released my mouth and planted his hand on my chest which rose and fell with excited hyperventilation. Then he took his rock-hard penis in his other hand and pressed the glistening head in between my labia. I froze with agonising anticipation before he thrust his masculinity into me, making me scream.



(Now that you've finished reading, please leave a comment with your thoughts, especially if you have a constructive criticism to make.)



Intruder Ch. 05



 (Thanks to everyone for all the comments and suggestions so far. This is the first part of a mini arc within the series, I hope you enjoy it!) 

*

The three storey mansion before me was the very image of Beverly Hills wealth; white plastered walls, marble pillars, a well kept garden in the front, and a party pool in the back. There were two cars in the open garage: a Porsche 911 convertible and an SUV. To a prospective car thief, they looked ready for the taking. Such a would-be thief, however, would have to contend with the 3 metre high fence surrounding the property, the wrought iron gates that blocked entrance to the winding driveway, and the suite of security cameras scattered around the perimeter. There was probably a state-of-the-art alarm system inside as well. This house would be a serious challenge to break into, which was partly why I had chosen it for my next 'project'. Many people call me different things depending on which identity I happen to have assumed. At least one person calls me 'sir'. You know me as the 'intruder'.

The name on the deed to this particular house was Katrina Ziegler, née Cuomo, a 44 year old divorcee who got to keep the big house when her husband left her for a younger model. Browsing through her digitised medical history, graciously provided by the woefully inadequate firewall around her local health clinic's database, I could see that she had had cosmetic surgery done on her breasts and her labia in the past few years. She had also been treated for an eating disorder and been referred to a physical therapy clinic as part of her treatment. Most people understandably prefer 'all-natural' women, but to me, yoga plus boob job spells MILF, to put it somewhat crudely. Unfortunately, medical records don't come with photo galleries; I needed to see her in the flesh before I fucked her. When I finally got into the house, it wasn't through the window, or a secret entrance, it was through the front door.

"You're on time, at least." Katrina said, in an unappreciative New York drawl, "this way."

I followed Katrina through the magnificent house, admiring her shapely legs and even more shapely hips and ass, accentuated by her tight jeans rolled up above the ankles. The strutting gait she had in those 3 inch high heels of hers made her look sexier still.

We passed through a lavishly equipped kitchen, through a sliding glass door, and into the back garden. Even in the middle of September the glorious California sun smiled down from a cloudless sky. The swimming pool had an elliptical shape and wasn't more than five feet deep, it was a party pool after all. Katrina turned to me, giving me a full, frontal view of her surgically enhanced bust, her guitar-like model's figure, and her flowing dark hair and Mediterranean features. She tossed me a key without warning, and I caught it against my chest.

"All the stuff you need is in the shed," she said flippantly, gesturing to a small shack on the other side of the pool, "help yourself to a beer in the kitchen if you're thirsty. I'll be back in an hour; you get your 300 bucks when it's done." With that, she strutted off. The pool was hardly Olympic sized, and would not take an hour to clean; even so, I needed the extra time.

I headed back into the kitchen and found the fuse box; not for the entire house, just for the kitchen. Removing the panel, I took out the perfectly functioning fuse and replaced it with a special, custom-made one. My work complete, I helped myself to a beer, and then got to work on the pool. I checked and replaced the filters, scooped out a couple of leaves that had floated onto the water, and in 15 minutes I was done. Katrina could have done this herself for free if she had been so inclined. My job done, I fetched another beer from the fridge and reclined in a deckchair in the shade, waiting for Ms Ziegler to return.

As I relaxed and enjoyed the California weather, I heard a muffled splash. Looking in the pool's direction, I saw two figures paddling aimlessly around, giggling and gossiping together. One of them was undoubtedly Zoë, Katrina's 18 year old daughter; I didn't know who the other one could be. The two girls splashed and laughed before one of them swam to my side of the pool and clambered out, walking straight across my field of vision.

I recognised her face as that of Zoë Ziegler. How she failed to notice me watching her from the shade was a mystery, but I certainly noticed her. I noticed her toned swimmer's body clad in a skimpy, two-piece bathing suit. I noticed her brown hair with blond highlights tied into a small bun. Most of all, I noticed her jewelled belly piercing which twinkled in the sun.

My masculine urges surged to the fore when I saw her bejewelled stomach. Navel piercings turn me on almost as much as raping the women who get them done. The irrational urge to ambush this young lady and screw her senseless momentarily flooded my mind. I wanted to pounce on her and force her to the ground, then rip that slutty outfit off of her delicious body, force my cock into her barely legal teenage pussy, and make her scream as I rammed into her. I wanted to ravage her till she came and then ravage her until I came, deep inside her snatch.

Snapping back to reality, I removed my hand from my groin and tried to covertly rearrange my shorts in such a way as to conceal the great tent that had appeared. Thankful for Zoë's apparent obliviousness to my presence, I mentally added her to my list of targets. By the time I was finished, mother and daughter would both be expecting.

Zoë reappeared with an inflated swimming pool lounger big enough for two, and tossed it onto the water before re-entering the pool. Both girls clambered onto the pool lounger and lay down together, idly paddling the water until they were spinning in lazy circles. I was starting to wonder how long it would take them to start playing with each other when the sliding door to the kitchen opened.

"I'm not paying you 300 bucks to laze about." Katrina snapped imperiously.

"No, you're paying me 300 bucks for a job that took me barely a half hour to finish," I answered in a calm riposte, perfectly mimicking an American accent.

"You're done already?"

"Yeah," I passed the time it was taking Katrina to grasp this simple concept by admiring the new outfit she had on. She now sported running shoes, a pair of skin-tight, Capri jogging pants, and a hefty sports bra keeping her surgically enhanced bust in check. This left her entire toned, tanned midriff exposed, making her look at least 15 years younger. Sadly, she didn't have a belly piercing, which would really have put the cherry on the cake.

"Oh," Katrina said, her moody expression softening somewhat, "you were actually on time, AND you got the job done fifty times faster than the last guy. Can you believe that lazy son-of-a-bitch called me up this morning saying he was too sick to come in today? I mean what the fuck kinda bullshit does he think he's playing at?!"

I felt, but did not show, some sympathy for poor Hernando. That kind of 'bullshit' usually happens when your food is spiked with a liquid emetic drug and an extra powerful laxative. My predecessor would be indisposed for several days until he recovered from what closely resembled a serious case of food poisoning. I did spare the guy a guilty thought for poisoning him and stealing his job, but sacrifices had to be made.

"Anyway, I told that piece of shit he was fired, of course," Katrina pouted indignantly, unconsciously shifting into a model's pose, "Here. I've got your cash inside." Her imperious rant over, Lady Ziegler strutted back into the kitchen.

I followed her inside and quite deliberately switched on the kitchen lights. They flashed for an instant before a loud crack was heard and the fuse box door blew open with a puff of smoke. Katrina was incensed.

"What the fuck just happened?!" She demanded angrily to no one in particular. I marched confidently over to the fuse box, waving the smoke away, and made a big show of inspecting the switches. Using the hem of my shirt, I gingerly removed the defective fuse from the socket and presented it to Katrina.

"Blown fuse," I announced.

"What do you mean a 'blown fuse'?" Katrina demanded, as if such inconveniences never befell the rich and privileged.

"When did you last have these replaced?" I asked her, though I already knew the answer.

"I don't know," she responded, "a few years ago, maybe." It had been 18 months.

"Fuses get worn down every time juice flows through them," I expounded confidently, "eventually they just blow."

"Great," Katrina exclaimed, visibly pissed, "now I have to shell out ten grand to some electric company just to fix a bunch of lights."

"I could do that for you," I offered helpfully, Katrina's frustration softened into incredulous curiosity.

"You'd do that?"

"For a price," I added, "but yeah, I could come in tomorrow with some new fuses and replace them for you. It'd be a lot cheaper than paying a company to do it." Katrina's brow furrowed in thought, mulling over my offer.

"Deal," she announced, "be here at ten tomorrow, and I'll pay you a thousand bucks to replace every fuse in the house."

"Tomorrow at ten," I replied in agreement. At that moment, Zoë and her friend returned from the pool wearing towels.

"Mom, can Maria sleepover tonight?" Zoë asked in a whiny princess voice.

"Sure, honey." Katrina said, obviously not interested.

"What happened to the lights?" asked Maria, flipping the switch on and off to no avail.

"Fucking fuse just blew," Katrina answered, "luckily; handy he-man over here has offered to replace them." As Katrina pointed me out, both girls turned in my direction. Both their jaws dropped in teenage awe. I was still holding the melted fuse with my shirt, unintentionally giving all three women a generous view of my abdominal muscles.

"So how many fuse boxes do you have in the house?" I asked, carefully placing the blown fuse in the rubbish bin.

"Not a clue," Katrina shrugged, "just buy a hundred of them and I'll pay you back on top of the thousand bucks."

"Sounds good to me," I replied obligingly. Maria had gone around the counter and made a cup of fruit juice. Then she moved back towards the group and quite deliberately tripped over her own feet, spilling her drink over my shirt.

"Dios Mio, I'm so sorry!" Maria made a big show of apology, pretending to try and rub the stain out of my shirt when she was actually running her hands up and down my six pack. I in turn was given a generous look at her ample cleavage. Not quite as ample as Ms Ziegler's, but not too bad.

"Never mind," I said, moving the teenager away, "it's just a shirt." It was time to leave.

"So I'll see you tomorrow at ten?" I said to Katrina.

"Yeah yeah, ten o'clock." She replied, picking up a wad of cash and handing it to me, not the least bit concerned about my ruined shirt. I quickly counted the cash, and then showed myself out, but not before quietly stealing a spare house key for future use.

***

I returned to the house at ten o'clock sharp the next day. Katrina was already standing in the doorway in a skin-tight yoga outfit with a delicious camel-toe with Zoë who was wearing a white tube top and a pair of daisy dukes. The pair was evidently having a tense conversation, including a stern warning to Zoë about not ditching her community service to hang out with friends. I didn't catch any more context than that as the pair stopped as soon as I appeared.

Zoë promptly took off in her Porsche whilst Katrina led me inside the house. She told me that there were about fifty fuse boxes for various parts of the house, and I had all day to replace them. My instructions given, she drove off to yoga class in the SUV, leaving me wondering what it would be like to screw such a flexible MILF.

Once she was gone, I returned the stolen spare key to its box and set off on my bogus quest to replace a house full of perfectly good fuses. This was not an entirely pointless exercise, what I really wanted was to find the security room for the cameras and the alarm system. I started on the ground floor and worked my way up, replacing good fuses with brand new ones. One of the fuse boxes was inside what I presumed to be Zoë's room.

The room was dominated by a Queen sized double bed with ruffled sheets. Multiple sets of ornate drawers and wardrobes carved from oak lined the walls in addition to an enormous vanity mirror. In spite of the ample storage space, multiple piles of women's clothes were scattered across the floor. There was even a vibrator lying on the bed. I shook my head and began searching for the fuse box. I eventually found it behind one of the wardrobes and shifted the massive piece of furniture aside to gain access to the box.

"Who the fuck's there?" said a partially indignant, partially fearful teenage girl's voice. I emerged slowly from behind the wardrobe. The speaker was a teenage Hispanic girl dressed in bright pink, Victoria's Secret lingerie. I went instantly hard as I eyed her gorgeous curved physique and the gem dangling from a tiny chain pierced through her navel. She had light espresso coloured skin, curly brown hair which flowed past her shoulders, and a rack much fuller than one would expect for a teenager.

"Oh," Maria looked surprised, almost apologetic, "I thought I was alone."

"Ms Ziegler asked me to change round all the fuses," I explained, "I'll just be a minute."

"You're the new pool guy, no?" Maria asked me.

"That's right." I confirmed.

"Sorry about your shirt," she continued, starting to inch forward, "I would've gotten you a new one, but you ran off."

"Don't worry about it," I replied, getting to work on the fuse box, "it was just an accident." Suddenly, Maria was right beside me, giving me a sultry look with a pair of big dark eyes.

"Well, it wasn't TOTALLY by accident," she confessed, slipping a hand beneath my shirt and across my stomach, "I wanted to see some more of that hot body of yours." Her hand slipped down to my crotch and I quickly pulled away, but not before she had managed to get a feel of my sizeable erection.

"What's the matter?" she teased, "are you gay?"

"No," I replied, unsettled by this unexpected twist in the plan "you're just too young for me." Maria looked stung.

"I'm not a little girl," she countered, "I turned 18 like, two weeks ago." She picked up a driver's license and presented it to me. Sure enough, Maria J. Martinez had turned eighteen on September 3rd of this year. But as tempting as it was to fuck her, I would much prefer to take her in the night without her knowledge.

"Still too shy?" she taunted, still waiting for an answer. Clearly this little teenage tart didn't take no for an answer; then again, neither did I.

I grabbed her and threw her onto the bed as if she weighed nothing, which to me she practically did. She yelped in surprise at the sudden attack and her driver's license went sailing out of her hand as I gripped her panties in mine and ripped them clean off.

"Hey, careful!" she complained.

"You don't get to complain, my dear," I snarled dominantly, my American accent slipping, "you want my cock inside you, that's what you're going to get."

I yanked down my shorts and briefs, and deployed my prick. It felt as hard as a steel pole, and the sight of it made Maria gasp. Her pubic mound had been waxed to a smooth, bald finish, and her inner labia were already glistening with feminine moisture, ready to accept me into their depths. I lined up the throbbing, purple head of my cock with Maria's nether-lips, tormenting her for a good minute as I rubbed the head up and down her inner labia, making her wetter still. Maria whimpered softly, her body quivering in sexual anticipation. When she was wet enough, I rammed myself inside, eliciting a loud squeal from her in response, though whether in pain or delight I couldn't tell.

I started off at a faster pace than usual; being a teenager she couldn't be that difficult to get off. Her barely legal pussy was slick with pleasure, and I forced myself all the way up to her cervix, making her yelp with each stroke. Maria's love-canal was tight from youth, but she was certainly no virgin; what a surprise.

I gripped Maria's waist with both hands as I fucked her, increasing my tempo to a frenzied pace. Maria herself barely participated at first; her hands lay on either side of her head, and her beautiful tits, which appeared to be natural, bounced with each thrust. With each stroke, a squeak of sexual delight escaped Maria's lips, passively enduring the abuse my meat-rod was inflicting on her cunt; she was a natural submissive. My eyes remained focused on her slutty navel piercing. Women with belly piercings never fail to make me hard; it screams out to me "please rape me!" To me women who wore such sexy body jewellery were begging to be fucked; and if they screamed and cried and fought back, so much the better.

Maria, however, wasn't screaming or crying or fighting back, she was moaning. She was thoroughly enjoying being taken so vigorously. Her head was shaking about in the throes of teenage lust, her legs had drifted up into the air in a reflexive female attempt to get me as deep inside her as possible, and her hands had now disappeared beneath her bra in order to pleasure her nipples.

Suddenly, Maria cried out in ecstasy, and I felt her cunt muscles clamp down on my thrusting manhood in reflexive response. She whipped her hands round my neck and pulled herself up towards me in a vaguely tantric position. I continued to fuck her as she squealed, horny as a champion bull but still not enough to cum yet. Even as I had yet to reach my peak, Maria came off hers and released her grip on my neck, flopping back down onto the bed as I continued to fuck her. A sudden realisation apparently struck Maria.

"Pull out before you cum." She told me, a note of worry entering her voice.

"Why?" I said, rutting her teenage cunt with no intention of honouring her request.

"I'm not on the pill," she replied, breathless with sex, "and you don't have a condom on."

"Well that's a shame," I said, increasing my pace to a blinding fury, "because I'm not going to." By now Maria was about to fall off the precipice of a second climax, so her reaction to my refusal was not all that clear. She held onto my muscular arms for dear life as the bed rocked from our mating. Maria's moans became squeals of ecstasy once again as she dug her nails into the skin of my shoulders, clawing her way back into my arms; she was pretty easy to please.

Eventually, I felt my own pleasure begin to build. It started as a churning in my balls, which had been unused for over a fortnight as I staked this house out. The churning moved to my prostate and then I threw my head back and snarled, forcing my cock all the way up to the entrance of Maria's barely legal womb as the pleasure bloomed in my groin and surged along the length of my sizeable manhood.

I savoured the look of shock and ecstasy on Maria's face as my penis jerked and writhed inside her like an angry serpent, shooting my virile payload deep into her fertile pussy in one explosive jet after another. My climax mingled with Maria's just as my fluids mingled with hers, and she wrapped her arms and legs around my body, lifting herself clear off the bed, and holding me close as our combined orgasm overwhelmed her 18 year old senses.

I allowed her to fall back down to the bed whilst continuing to hold myself inside her. I grunted and sweated from the exertion whilst she hyperventilated with exhaustion like a newly deflowered virgin. The sex wasn't the most satisfying I'd ever had, but it wasn't everyday you got to plough a teenager, even if she was a trollop.

I slowly pulled out, causing a dollop of my spunk mixed with Maria's own juices to spill from her well fucked and fertile pussy, and pour down her ass crack. I climbed off the bed and got dressed again, deciding to finish with the fuse box and be gone before Maria recovered.




Intruder Ch. 05



"That ... was ... amazing!" she exclaimed as she caught her breath. Then she slowly sat up in bed and began examining her cum-filled slit. "Why did you cum in me?" she whined, probing herself with two fingers.

"Because you have one tight little pussy," I replied, my American accent returned.

"But what if I get pregnant?" She complained.

"Not my problem." I answered selfishly. A pillow hit me in the face in reply.

"Fuck you," said Maria, climbing off the bed and inspecting her torn underwear, "and you ripped my panties too."

"Nothing gets between a man and a juicy cunt like yours." I commented boorishly, finishing with the fuse box. Maria rolled her eyes as she tried to use her torn underwear as a cloth to clean her cum-stained labia and inner thighs.

"Why are all the hottest guys such dicks?" she asked rhetorically, dropping the cum-stained rag on the floor and undoing her bra.

"Well you enjoyed it, didn't you?" I asked.

"Yeah," Maria said, as if the answer were obvious, picking up a towel and wrapping it around her naked body "no one's ever fucked me like that before; but you're still an ass-hole for not pulling out. I mean look at this," she picked up the cum-soaked panties again and threw them at me, "that is so fucking nasty; if I get pregnant you are SO paying me child support."

"What's wrong with an abortion?" I suggested.

"I'm catholic," Maria replied tersely, "unborn life is sacred, especially to my parents. They wouldn't let me have an abortion if I was raped. They're SUPER traditional." Maria headed for a side-door where the bathroom was presumably located.

"Well, thanks to you I need a shower now," she announced, "Zoë's doing her weekly 'community-volunteer' work all day and her mom won't be back from yoga till 1pm. So it's just you and me in the house ... cabrón." With that parting shot, Princess Maria departed for the shower, leaving me with a slightly higher opinion of her than before.

By 'higher opinion' I don't mean as a person, she was still a spoilt, irritating little tart. That being said, she had just thoughtlessly dropped two valuable titbits of information regarding Katrina's and Zoë's respective timetables. If I kept 'pumping' her the way I had just done, I might be able to pump her for more information.

This was not part of my original plan; I needed to surprise my victims in the night, forcing them into physical, and ultimately mental, submission through shock and awe; but I was the one who had just been ambushed, after a fashion. Still, the fact that this girl was a semi-devout catholic essentially guaranteed our future child's entry into the world; and no, I would not be paying child support to this girl.

I heard the water in the shower start flowing and it occurred to me that I had another two hours alone with this girl. Replacing the fuses was only a pretext to scope out the house from the inside, and Maria could tell me any number of useful things about the two women I had come here to target; but she needed to be made more compliant first.

Just the thought of ambushing her in the shower made me hard again, just like when I surprised Leah in her own home. It had turned me on to no end to listen to her moaning in the shower as she fantasised about my cock invading her pussy, and I wondered if Maria was about to start doing the same. Non-consensual sex had always been my greatest turn on, and already I was horny again. There wouldn't be much left in my balls so soon after screwing Maria, but I was still ready to go.

My male instincts overrode my critical faculties, compelling me to strip down and march to the bathroom with a purpose. I felt like a bull with the scent of a cow in heat in my nose, clouding my mind with aggressive lust. There would be at least three new swollen bellies in Beverly Hills before I left the Golden State.

***

The SUV pulled up to the house, and then around and into the garage. Katrina was stressed; not only had her yoga class been cancelled, but she'd been pulled over by some brain-dead traffic cop for going 5mph over the limit. She switched off the engine and got out, dumping the keys on the table as she strutted back into the house in a huff. An hour of therapeutic stretching was the best part of her week, and it was gone; a quick jog around the neighbourhood would have to do. Katrina went upstairs to dump her yoga outfit back in her bedroom and change into some running gear. It was still only eleven in the morning, and Zoë would be out all day doing her community-volunteer work, hopefully.

Katrina strutted down the hallway where all the bedrooms were located, still huffing from the California heat and the ruination of her morning, when she heard a shriek from Zoë's bedroom. Katrina froze, remembering that Zoë's best friend Maria was still in the house. She tiptoed to the bedroom door and carefully pushed it open.

Zoë's room was a mess, of course, but there was no sign of Maria or anyone else. The sound of the shower running emanated from the far side of the room, meaning that Maria must have been in the bathroom. One of the wardrobes had been shifted aside, revealing a fuse box behind it. The pool guy had been in here, and might still be there; had he attacked Maria?

"Maria?" Katrina called out cautiously, "it's Kat, are you alright?" No one replied. Katrina entered the room as quietly as possible, manoeuvring between piles of clothes towards the bed. The sheets were ruffled and there was a dark patch in the centre. Katrina went over for a closer look and dipped a finger in experimentally; it was a fresh cum stain. Had the pool guy raped Maria whilst she was out?

Another girlish yelp, coming from the bathroom, broke Katrina's fearful train of thought. That was definitely Maria's voice. Then the yelps started up again at a regular tempo, except now they sounded like moans. Katrina wiped her finger clean on the sheets then snuck over to the bathroom door, fearful of what she might see, and opened the door just a crack.

The shower aperture was shaped like a cylinder with a frosted glass door protecting the user's privacy. Through the frosted glass and the cloud of steam, Katrina could make out the muscular back of a man and a pair of girlish hands with pink nails digging into the skin of the man's back. The man appeared to be bouncing up and down in time with what were unmistakeably moans of ecstasy from Maria.

Katrina rolled her eyes; the pool guy had been hired yesterday afternoon and already the little slut was spreading her legs for him; the scream she had heard from the room must have been Maria getting her pussy plugged by him. Katrina stood with her head peaking through the doorway, listening and watching rapturously as the mating progressed before realising that this was voyeurism on her part. She closed the door as quietly as possible until there was only a crack left, but she couldn't quite bring herself to stop listening in. Maria's moans were becoming more delirious, and through the sound of the shower water pouring down Katrina could just make out the grunting of the pool guy as he thrust into Maria's teenage snatch.

Unconsciously, Katrina began touching herself through her tracksuit, rubbing her neglected womanhood and releasing gasps of silent pleasure. She leant against the door frame and continued her self-pleasuring, slipping a hand down her tracksuit and into her panties to stimulate her clit directly. Her panties began soaking up her flowing cunt juices as the pleasure in her crotch grew and grew.

Maria squealed out loud as the pool guy made her cum. Katrina slipped her fingers in between her lower lips, picturing her own pussy being filled by his cock. Fingers were a poor substitute for an actual manhood, but they did the trick as the mating continued. Before long, Katrina's love-tunnel was making liquid noises as her fluids continued to flow; were it not for the still running shower water, the pair in the bathroom would have known for sure that they were being spied upon.

Maria's moans were more breathless than ever now; this guy was clearly experienced, too experienced for a loose teenager to handle. He had brought her to an orgasm whilst hardly even trying, and was still going strong. Katrina continued to frig herself without shame or fear, imagining that cock sliding in and out of her sex. There was now an obvious damp patch in the crotch of her tracksuit, and yet still she continued, her ecstasy building in sync with the pair in the shower with no consideration for the awkward position she would find herself in if caught.

Before long, Maria was squealing with ecstasy again as the pool guy brought her to another teenage climax. This time, however, the muffled masculine grunts that accompanied her moaning became louder and more intense. Then finally, the grunts were subsumed into a virile snarl as the pool guy came to his own climax. Katrina's fingers working her sopping wet womanhood brought her to a simultaneous orgasm, and she gritted her teeth as she came, keeling over forward as she did so.

A few minutes passed as Katrina glided down from her voyeuristic high before she remembered that the two were still in the bathroom and would be coming out. She scrambled to her feet and scampered as quietly as possible out of Zoë's bedroom, just as the bathroom door opened and the pool guy emerged. Katrina hurried along the corridor, disappearing around the corner and into her own bedroom. She waited for him to emerge, hoping he hadn't noticed her presence. When he emerged from the room, Katrina did not relax until she heard his footsteps fade down the corridor.

A curious tingle of excitement sparked in Katrina's chest and in her groin at what she had just done; getting off on listening to two other people fucking, one of them her daughter's best friend. It had been a long time since she'd actually gotten laid, but this was the next best thing. Her tracksuit was soaking as a result, and she herself would need a shower after that.

Katrina stood up and began stripping down for a shower. Dumping her clothes in the wash basket, she walked naked to her own bathroom and turned on the water. As the cool water poured down her skin, her thoughts drifted back to the vigorous mating she had borne witness to. As she washed her groin with a flannel, she began to imagine what it would be like to have the pool guy in the shower with her, thrusting his manhood into her neglected pussy. Once he was done fixing all the fuses, the pool guy might have other uses as well.

***

Maria didn't notice me open the door to the bathroom, but she did when I opened the door to the shower. She screamed in fright before I could clamp a hand over her mouth and pin her doll-like teenage frame against the wall of the shower with my much larger and stronger body. I looked into her startled brown eyes for several seconds before speaking.

"I think I'm still a little horny after that," I hissed into her ear, "I could also do with a shower after fucking you in your best friend's bed. How about we share?" I took my hand off Maria's mouth and prised her thighs apart, readying my hard-on for another shower-shag.

"But, I don't want to go again so soon." Maria protested.

"Well I certainly do," I replied.

"Get off me." said Maria, trying ineffectually to push me away, "this is rape!"

"Not if I make you cum again," I said disingenuously, "and trust me, you will."

"Can you at least go and get a condom from my handbag?" she pleaded, shifting about in an attempt to thwart my mating efforts, "if I get pregnant, Miguel will never forgive me."

"Who's Miguel?" I asked without much interest.

"He's my boyfriend."

"You have a boyfriend?" I asked incredulously. What a cheap tart.

"He's at college, and we always use condoms when we have sex." Maria's struggles were getting irritating, so I reached behind her knee and yanked her leg up, forcing her to stand on one leg. She abandoned her efforts to push me away and put one arm out to balance herself against the wall, wrapping the other around my neck. With the water still running down our naked bodies, I kept her leg suspended next to my hip with one hand and lined up my throbbing erection at her moist entrance with the other.

"A devout catholic schoolgirl who uses condoms to have pre-marital sex," I summarised mockingly, savouring the delicious hypocrisy "if only your family knew what you get up to." With that said, I thrust my manhood into her tight snatch, making her shriek once again.

My strokes were long and hard, making Maria yelp with each inward thrust. I had my free arm around her waist, pulling her close in to me, savouring the feel of this tight, teenage pussy. She was already well lubricated and, thanks to the shower water, our bodies made a wet slapping noise every time I slammed my groin into hers.

Maria's yelps became moans as she resigned herself to her fate, wrapping both arms around my neck and holding me close to her body. I quickened my strokes in response, feeling her love-tunnel grow more slippery as our semi-consensual mating progressed. Although clearly not a virgin, she was deliciously tight, just like a Leah.

I leaned forward over Maria's shoulder as her head rolled back, releasing high-pitched moans towards the roof. Memories of taking Leah in her most intimate and vulnerable moment popped up in my mind, bursting like a bubbles in a pot of boiling water. Her beautiful flowing hair, her Venus-like hourglass figure, her smooth, toned belly, and the risqué navel piercing that crowned it.

Maria's moans broke into a squeal of pleasure and I felt her cunt muscles contract rhythmically as an orgasm swept through her body. I quickened my strokes in response, feeling my own climax starting to simmer at the base of my testicles. I released Maria's waist and ran my hand across her stomach, fiddling with her belly piercing and picturing Leah in her place, holding her rapist close to her body, helpless to resist my virile urges.

Maria began to scratch my back in response to my increased tempo, acquiescing completely in her mid-shower assault, her moans becoming ever more breathless as I fucked her. I thrust into her more vigorously in response, feeling myself lose control as my own pleasure continued to build in my groin; I was determined to give her another orgasm before I came. And so she did. Another high-pitched squeal of teenage delight filled the bathroom, and she bucked her hips up and down my groin. Her love-canal aggressively massaged my cock with rhythmic spasms, begging my manhood to release my seed into her depths. A moment later, I obliged.

The overflowing pool of pleasure building in my groin reached a critical mass, and with a snarl of raw, masculine pleasure, I forced my prick all the way up to the gateway of Maria's womb and released what remained of my testicular payload into her pussy. Maria seized up in orgasmic shock as my potent liquid pleasure was shot into her feminine innards for the second time in as many minutes. There wouldn't be very much actual semen so soon after our first fuck, but it still felt good to cum inside her again. I hyperventilated like an angry bull, revelling in the feeling of Maria's cunt muscles massaging every part of my dick, squeezing out every last drop of my semen, drawing it through her cervix and into her soon-to-be fertilised womb.

After several long minutes of that glorious experience, I eventually ran totally empty and slowly pulled out of my latest conquest. Maria slipped from my arms and slid down the shower wall, panting with exhaustion from the assault. She looked so adorable, just like Leah, freshly fucked in the shower by a real man, and with a gorgeous belly that was soon to bulge with my seed germinating within its depths.

Once I was finished gloating, I stepped out of the shower and grabbed a spare towel from the railing, drying myself down thoroughly. Maria continued to rest slumped down in the shower, too drained of energy to get up and do anything for now. I did notice that the bathroom door was open a crack, but thought nothing of it. I turned to leave and opened the door.

"Wait!" Maria called to me; I paused and turned back to face her, "give me your number so I can call you."

"Your phone's just there," I replied, pointing to her Smartphone lying on the floor, "I'll just take down your number."

"If you don't call me I will hunt you down," she said with as much menace as a fucked-out teenage whore could manage, "especially if you get me pregnant." I nodded in acknowledgement and picked up her phone. There was no lock on it, so I checked her phone number, entered my own number onto it, and got dressed again. This was an interesting development, but I was still not much closer to cracking the security in this place.

***

After replacing all of the working fuses in the house I received my thousand dollar payment from Katrina, who seemed oddly pleased to see me. Before I could leave, she took down my number, telling me cryptically that she might have some more jobs for me to do quite soon; at least I had another excuse to get back into the house. On the way back to my hotel I tossed the wad of cash into the bucket of a charity worker canvassing for cancer research. The man was speechless with surprise and gratitude, and I disappeared into the crowd before he could regain his voice.

My hotel was a modest, three-star establishment that suited my needs nicely. After ordering a room service lunch, I pulled out my laptop for work. I used my own portable, encrypted wireless modem instead of the hotel's network, which was unsecured and laughably slow. I still hadn't found the control room for the Ziegler residence's security cameras, and I was mulling over whether or not I could risk expanding my California adventure to include Maria and her catholic mother. I was here for the MILFs after all. Either way, I would need to do some research on the Martinez family.

My thoughts, however, drifted back to Leah, and I logged into her bank account to view her recent financial history. She was the first one I had ever kept as a prisoner of any kind, and this new modus operandi had worked out nicely in her case. 

The disadvantage of this new approach, however, was that I had developed an inexplicable mental attachment to her. Why on earth would I start fantasising about a woman I had already slept with during sex with another woman? Leah was exceptionally beautiful, more so than she realised, but that was still a very strange thing to happen to me. Still, she was carrying one of my children; it was only natural for me to want to keep an electronic eye on her.

She had certainly put my $500,000 deposit to good use, spending a chunk of it on a clothes shopping spree. I shook my head wearily; women and their wardrobes were the bane of any man's wallet. At least she had bought mainly maternity garb, though. She had also written cheques for weekly prenatal yoga classes and put in an insurance claim for a prescription drug to counter morning sickness.

An uncharacteristic flash of worry swept through my chest for a split second before passing. Leah would be fine until I returned, I assured myself; and return I would. Until then, however, I had a MILF hunt to continue, and I never left a job unfinished.

*

(Comments, suggestions, and constructive criticisms, particularly from native New Yorkers regarding Katrina's lingo, are welcome and encouraged.) 



Intruder Ch. 06



Spying on people is a laborious task, especially when it is done properly. I got up early on Monday morning to watch the Martinez family begin there day; Mr Martinez left first for his consultancy job, followed by the classy looking Mrs Martinez driving Maria and two younger boys to school. Using their phone numbers I tapped into Maria and her mother's respective voice-mail accounts, and accessed the source code embedded in their SIM cards, giving me the ability to block or redirect phone calls made to particular numbers. I also broke into the Martinez family home to inspect their alarm system and the contents of their bathroom waste bin. There were no bloody tampons or pads, but there was a receipt for a new box of tampons dated just over a week previously. Using this information I had a rough idea of their ovulation cycles.

I also kept in contact with Maria, playing the part of stand-in boyfriend, who surprised me by inviting me to stay over at her house on Friday night. Her father would be leaving in the morning for San Francisco and would be away all weekend, and her mother would be working late also. Not only would Maria save me the trouble of breaking into her house, but I could nail both mother and daughter in one night. Better still, Maria was forbidden to have any guests over without her parents' permission, so one visitor was the maximum she could get away with. The coincidental timing was almost too good to be true. Maria's two brothers would be the only other males in the house, certainly a risk, but an acceptable one given that they were only fifteen and twelve. I readily accepted Maria's invitation.

***

I had my nap in the late afternoon before meeting Maria in the early evening. She met me at the door in a backless party dress with hoop earrings and high heels, looking very pleased to see me. She looked like a model instead of the 18 year old, teenage princess that she was, and I went instantly hard at the sight of this sexy young Latina.

"About time you got here," she said with a sultry grin, "come inside." 'Yes please' I thought, following her into the house. It wasn't nearly as big as the Ziegler home but it was still worth a few million on the property market. I followed Maria up a grandly carpeted staircase and down a hallway to her bedroom. Having let myself into the house earlier that week, I had already been down this hallway before and, as a consequence, already knew the layout. Her parents' room was directly opposite hers, with a bathroom at their end of the hallway and her brothers' bedrooms at the other end of the house who shared their own bathroom. My targets were at one end and my obstacles were at the other end.

Maria ushered me into a room half the size of Zoë's Ziegler's bedroom but almost identical in layout. There was a queen sized bed in the middle with wardrobes and dressers lining the walls like adoring subjects. Piles of clothes were scattered across the floor and the aroma of a freshly delivered pizza bathed the room. Maria gave me some pizza and illegally helped herself to a beer, tossing one to me as well.

"Mom won't be back until one or two in the morning," Maria informed me, "and Jorge and Juan will wear themselves out playing video games, so it's just you and me tonight."

"Good to know," I smiled in anticipation, downing half my beer, "how come Zoë can't make it?" I enquired casually.

"She's been grounded," Maria replied, not sounding terribly disappointed, "ditching her community-volunteer work to go bowling. Like her mom didn't see that coming. She could sneak out, though."

"Won't her mom see her on camera?" I asked in my fake American accent. Maria snorted.

"They're all fake," she said, finishing off her beer, "they're just for show, to make people think they're being recorded. Still, they haven't been robbed yet, so it must work." I thanked god for gossipy teenagers and the valuable cats they idly released from their bags, "but she's probably too scared of her mom to try. Kat can be a mean bitch when she wants to be."

"She looks like a hard-ass." I remarked, my mind briefly going through a list of other adjectives that could be applied to Katrina's rear.

"She is, that woman has one hell of a temper," Maria continued to expound with typical teenage enthusiasm, "When Zoë told her she wanted to take a year out instead of going straight to college, she actually threw a vase at the wall. She only calmed down when Zoë promised to do community service of some kind over the summer. Now she's gone and broken her promise."

"Why doesn't she want to go to college?" I pressed, determined to mine this seam for every detail it was worth.

"I think she's just lazy and doesn't want the pressure," Maria answered bluntly, helping herself to more pizza, "she's just like me. That's probably why we're best friends."

"That would explain the vibrator I saw." I remarked casually, finishing my beer.

"Oh, that's hers, not mine." Maria pointed out hurriedly, "but yeah, we've had some lesbian adventures together."

"She doesn't like boys?" I asked.

"Oh, she loves boys," Maria replied, "she's just never been able to get one. I don't wanna trash talk her, but her attitude to sex is totally fucked up. She got her cunt pierced as well as her belly, which, IMHO, is one of the sluttiest places to get pierced. But she doesn't want her cherry popped until she's in a 'deep' and 'committed' relationship with some knight in white. She simply can't make up her mind about it."

My mind was taking Maria's thoughts about her best friend with a pinch of salt, but my body was charged with arousal. A teenage virgin with belly AND pussy piercings; this was probably too good to be true, but still worth fantasising about until I could find out for myself. Apparently I was fantasising about it a little too much.

"Are you getting hard from this?" she demanded, feigning disapproval. I shifted a little in a futile effort to conceal my boner.

"A little bit, yeah," I admitted.

"Whose pussy are you thinking about? Hers," Maria uncrossed her legs, displaying her lack of panties "or mine?" I put down my food and marched over to her with masculine determination. She yelped as I swept her off her feet and planted her on a dresser, fiddling with my trousers to release my raging hard-on.

"Hold your horses, sweetheart," Maria wrapped her slender legs around my waist and pulled me closer in, also preventing me from getting to my belt, "no rubber, no sex."

"Seriously?" I exclaimed, my inner alpha raging to be set free.

"Hey, you basically raped me back at Zoë's house," Maria answered resolutely, "I'll be lucky if I don't get pregnant, and the way you fucked me last week I may already be carrying the your baby. But as much as I enjoyed the way you took me, I don't want to make it more likely." Releasing my waist, Maria reached into a drawer and pulled out a condom, shoving it into my chest, "and hurry up, I can't wait to feel you inside me again."

I reluctantly obliged. I could have just raped her then and there, but last week was an act of opportunity with no one else around. If her two brothers heard her scream, or if Mrs Martinez came back from work early to find me raping her daughter, it would be all over. I had to take them when everyone was likely to be asleep; so I had no choice but to bide my time with Maria.

Maria watched me pull down my trousers and boxer shorts, idly playing with her moist slit as I did so. I opened the condom wrapper and rolled on the rubber; it was just the right size for me, making me suspect that Maria had bought it especially for me. Maria stopped playing with herself and slid her arms over my shoulders and around my neck as I lined up my rubber-sheathed cock with her dripping teenage sex, sliding it into her in one thrust.

Maria inhaled sharply through gritted teeth and her head lolled back as I filled her once again. I began to pump her with restrained but firm strokes. This would be a delicate balancing act; I had no intention of spilling my valuable seed into a rubber sock, so I would have to give a convincing enough performance that I could fake my orgasm.

"I know you can do better than that." Maria admonished me, giving me a disapproving scowl. I grabbed her hips and hoisted her effortlessly off the drawer, making her yelp in surprise and excitement. From there I carried her to the bed and dived down onto the covers. Maria locked her high-heeled feet behind my back and hugged me close as I pumped her more aggressively, "that's more like it." She panted.

I kept my strokes long but forceful, fucking a fine line between a good performance and not building up my rutting to the point of ejaculation. Maria seemed pleased enough with my efforts, moaning like a horny teenager and digging her painted nails into my shirt. The sensation was rather reduced through the condom, not as exciting and visceral as having my manhood rub up and down the length of a wet vagina. Maria didn't seem to mind, at least.

Maria unlocked her ankles and pressed them against my thighs, using her hips to try and shift me to one side. I rolled with her until she was on top and straddling me, something I almost never let women do. Maybe Leah would enjoy it when her belly got too big.

Maria hiked up the hem of her party dress over her hips and began to roll forwards and backwards; undulating her hips like a belly dancer. Maria might be a cheap tart, but at least she was no amateur; her boyfriend was a lucky guy. She rocked her hips faster and faster, slipping one hand under my shirt and using the other to run her fingers through her hair.

I held down the growing pleasure in my groin, determined not to orgasm until the condom was gone. Maria let out a sustained yowl of ecstasy as she brought herself to orgasm, rocking like a porn star in heat, and making it harder to control my own growing pleasure. If I let her keep this up, I might blow my load into the condom; I took a hold of her waist and rolled her onto her back again, pulling up her dress to reveal her belly piercing.

"You do like to be in charge, don't you?" Maria gasped dreamily as I resumed my fucking, building up to a feigned frenzy. Maria held on for dear life, moaning aloud without shame as I finally reached my fake climax. I grunted hard, forcing my cock as deep inside her as possible, feigning the orgasm to the best of my ability. As it happened, my fucking brought Maria to a second orgasm at the same time, so she was too lost in the throes of teenage pleasure to notice anything different.

"Nice," Maria cooed, gliding leisurely down from her climactic high, "almost as good as when you attacked me." Grimly accepting my blue balls, I slowly pulled out of Maria's slick pussy and clambered off the bed, affecting a post-coital masculine swagger towards the door, and making a show of removing the empty condom from my hard-on.

"The bathroom's down the hall." Maria said helpfully, teasing her empty snatch. After reaching the bathroom and disposing of the condom in a sterile plastic bag which I could smuggle out of the house and destroy later, I returned to Maria's room.

Together, Princess Maria and her illicit lover dined on the finest beer and junk food Beverly Hills had to offer before she inserted herself into my arms and performed an erotic grinding dance up and down body to the tune from some hideous genre of club music which closely resembled the sound of a machine being tortured for information, referred to innocuously enough as 'dubstep'.

By 11pm, Maria was getting drowsy from the drink. I had drunk some beer with her out of courtesy but needed a sharp mind for the night, which was only just beginning for me. I helped her to bed, knowing that she'd eaten enough food to stop the alcohol irritating her stomach, the cause of the dreaded hangover. I didn't want her to get sick whilst I fucked her.

Maria insisted that I come to bed with her and we both stripped down to our birthday suits for bed. I wasn't tired at all, and 2 years in the Special Boat Service had given me the physical conditioning to only need 4 hours of sleep a night. I nonetheless played the role of dutiful lover, allowing Maria to snuggle with me and drift off to sleep in my arms, even as I plotted to rape her mother.

***

It was not until one o'clock in the morning that Valentina Martinez arrived home from work. I slipped out of Maria's bed and tiptoed over to the door as I heard Mrs Martinez walk down the hallway towards this end of the corridor. Through the keyhole I caught a glimpse of a beautiful Latina in her forties strutting down the hallway in a pair of flat bottomed heels and a sexy black dress which accentuated her sylph-like body. She looked more like a high class model than a typical MILF, wearing a pair of gold earrings and a necklace with a crucifix nestled in her cleavage. It wasn't as ample as Katrina Ziegler's rack, but it was good looking nonetheless.

I absorbed all of this at the closest distance I had yet been to Mrs Martinez before realising that she was heading straight for Maria's door. I leapt to one side as the door knob turned quietly and the door opened a few inches. Mrs Martinez peered in to check that her daughter was in bed before shutting the door again. Hiding behind the door, my presence in the house was still a secret.

As the sound of Mrs Martinez entering her bedroom reached me, I took out a pair of gloves from my pocket and put them on. Before I did anything, I had to get rid of as much evidence of my presence as possible. I wiped down my beer cans as thoroughly as possible using a cloth I had brought with me before placing the cloth inside the same plastic bag as the condom.

I wanted to impregnate mother and daughter in one night, but it would be too risky to shuttle back and forth between their rooms. Furthermore, I would have to wait up to an hour before I could be sure that Valentina Martinez had gone to sleep. Now that Valentina had checked to see that Maria was asleep, the best way for me to pass the time as I waited to attack her was to fuck her daughter.

My balls were brimming with potent seed and my cock was hardening already in anticipation. I put the bag down and climbed back into bed with Maria. She had rolled over onto her back and was sleeping peacefully. Under the covers, I slowly spread her thighs to give me access to her shaven pussy, then slid forward and pressed my lips to hers. A quiet, reflexive gasp escaped Maria's mouth as I ran my tongue up and down her snatch, which was moistening in response to my ministrations. I kept a firm grip on Maria's thighs as I ate her out, vigorously French kissing her increasingly wet cunt.

Maria let out a low yelp of pleasure and her hand shot out and gripped my hair, forcing my head down between her legs even further. She was clearly awake and enjoying this. I withdrew a little and teased her clit with the tip of my tongue, sending the teenage princess wild. She was just mindful enough of the need not to make too much noise, but she was still bucking like a female bronco as I worked my mouth on her. Maria arched her back spasmodically as her orgasm washed over her, gripping the sheets in her fists and allowing me to take hold of her hips as I drove her over the edge. Now was the time to strike.

Still naked, I crawled forward until I was on top of her, planting one hand on her pierced belly and using the other to line the head of my throbbing erection up with her dripping love-mouth. In her orgasmic state, Maria barely noticed as I slid my cock into her depths, the bare flesh of my manhood caressing the inside of her well-lubricated love-tunnel.

Shifting into a push-up position, I began to thrust into Maria. My strokes were short and sharp, going for intensity rather than depth. This needed to be a quickie; the more thorough job would be reserved for Mrs Martinez. Maria didn't seem to care, and gripped my shoulders hard, digging her nails into the skin of my back as I rutted her. She wrapped her legs around my waist and I could feel her shifting her hips in opposition to my own movements. A flash of realisation evidently broke through her sexual reverie.

"Are you wearing a condom?" she asked me between strokes.

"No." I said bluntly. Why bother with deceit when I could overpower her with the truth?

"Wait...stop," She said in a low, breathless voice, "you need... to put on...a condom!"

"Can't stop now!" I grunted, thrusting into my teenage conquest faster and faster as my own orgasm began to build in my groin, "your pussy feels so much better without a rubber sheath covering my dick."

"Por favor," Maria begged, delirious with pleasure, "I don't want to have a baby yet."

"You'll look beautiful with a pregnant belly, Leah." I said in response.

"What? Who's Leah?" Maria demanded, still lucid enough to notice my slip up.

"Maria," I grunted back, cursing myself for such a stupid lapse, "I said Maria."

"I don't...believe...Unngh!" Maria came a second time, cutting off her jealous reply, and I wasn't far behind. The churning in my prostate reached an unbearable blue-balled point of no return, and I thrust my groin into Maria's with muffled snarl of pleasure, partially mindful of the fact that my victim's mother lived across the hallway.

My pent up seminal fluids, which had been building up for almost a week, burst into Maria's feminine depths like water from a fire hose, bathing her cervix in my potent seed. Maria shuddered as the feeling of my semen saturating her love-canal cascaded with her second orgasm. I had just enough presence of mind to cover her mouth, stifling any cries of ecstasy that might have alerted my next victim.

I held myself inside Maria, ensuring the conception of our mixed white-Hispanic child. I revelled in the feeling of breeding this spoilt teenage girl against her will, asserting my masculinity over her. She would blossom into a beautiful, mature woman by the time she gave birth to our baby; and when she did, her life would gain true meaning.

"You'll look beautiful with a baby bump, Maria." I whispered in her ear, more to make up for my earlier mistake than to reassure her.

"Fuck you," Maria murmured back, clearly pissed at me.

"You already have." I quipped. She punched me in the shoulder.

"You know what I mean, you dick." Maria answered sulkily, "Now I'll have to break up with Miguel, because there's no way I can convince him our baby is actually his." I slowly pulled out of Maria, confident that my juices were deep enough inside that they wouldn't spill out, "at least our kid will have a macho stud for a father."

"That he will," I concurred with an undertone of masculine conceit, clambering off the bed and searching around for my clothes. I had left them in a specific pile and put them on again, stuffing the plastic bag into my zip pocket, "I need to go before your mother comes back."

"If she hasn't already," Maria said in agreement, "You are by far the best screw I've ever had," she told me wistfully, snuggling back under the covers.

"Good to know." I answered, heading for the door.

"I'm still coming after you for child support, though." She threatened soporifically, "and maybe...occasional...sex."

"Very good to know," I murmured quietly to myself before opening the door.

***

The day before, I had greased the door hinges whilst the Martinez family was out, so not the faintest squeak was heard as I opened Maria's door and peered out into the hallway. The lights were still on and there was no one in sight. I slipped out of Maria's bedroom and shut the door behind me, moving stealthily over to her parents' bedroom door. In the not too distant past I would have watched my intended victim get ready for bed, and then wait an hour until I was sure she was asleep. If she came out the door to head to the bathroom she would scream and I would have to flee; but you can't plan for everything. All the measures I could realistically take to pull off tonight had been taken before I left for the house, so all could do was stand and wait.




Intruder Ch. 06



When my watch hit 2am I quietly opened the door, stepping into near total darkness as I shut the door behind me. I had already memorised the layout of the room as well as the rest of the house; unless the Martinez' had relocated a wardrobe to the centre of the room, I would be fine. As my eyes adjusted, I saw the outline of the grand double bed at the back of the room, and I heard the gentle rustling of sheets.

I grinned like a thirsty vampire about to seize his kill, my manhood beginning to pitch a tent in my trousers as I neared my goal of sexually subjugating a MILF in her own bed, the same bed where her husband fucked her. She was in her early forties, so there was no guarantee that she would actually conceive, but the thought of conquering her womb in the process was a double bonus and my penis was soon throbbing with anticipation.

I clambered onto the bed and crawled forward, feeling Valentina Martinez's slender legs and body shift slightly beneath me. Once I was on top of her I gently pulled the covers aside, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. I couldn't see her body, but I could feel it. I ran my palm over her soft cotton pyjamas and slipped my hand underneath her nightshirt, feeling her smooth belly and gently groping her breasts. They were a decent size, clearly not implants, and surprisingly firm for a forty year old. I would have loved to take her in broad daylight, but I couldn't risk her seeing my face, so the lights would have to stay off.

She stirred and then awoke with a start. I clamped my hand over her mouth before any meaningful sound could escape her lips. She began to fight and struggle as I ripped open her night shirt, sending buttons popping, and began to yank down her pyjama bottoms. Valentina fought like a feral cat, scratching me in the process; so I grabbed her throat and squeezed it. I had actually crushed several throats during my service, but I had no intention of hurting my victim, not physically anyway. I gripped just hard enough to squeeze the air and the fight out of Mrs Martinez, to let her know exactly who was in charge. She went stiff with terror and then relaxed in my grasp, choosing life over defiance.

My masculine tool was as hard as a metal pole by this point, hurting people wasn't pleasant but being fully in control was, especially of a woman and her body. I couldn't wait any longer. I pulled Valentina's pyjama bottoms down followed by my own trousers and temporarily released my victim's throat in order to guide the head of my cock to her feminine gateway.

Valentina whimpered and struggled as she realised exactly what was about to happen to her, trying to force her thighs shut to deny me access, but I was having none of it. I wrestled my way in between her legs and used my weight to pin her down, overpowering her with my superior masculine strength. Then I pressed the throbbing mushroom-like head of my manhood up against Valentina's opening.

I felt my victim's body shiver and her nether lips moisten as her body responded reflexively to the touch of a male member, preparing itself for the coming intrusion. I teased her with a touch of sadism, slowly rubbing the head of my cock up and down her inner labia, feeling the lubrication leak out of her and soak my penis. She was just like Leah the first night I took her, soaking wet in her sex and quivering with fear and sexual excitement. Then I thrust into her.

Valentina's scream was muffled by the hand still clamped over her mouth. She was a snug fit, the birth of three children had widened her out somewhat but her vagina was tight enough to accommodate my manhood comfortably; and she was already well lubricated. I was now impossible to dislodge and Valentina knew it. I lay still for a moment, savouring the feeling of being inside my victim, and then I began to thrust.

I started with long deep strokes, forcing my hard-on all the way up to Valentina's cervix, pulling back to her entrance and thrusting back in again. Valentina yelped quietly through the hand covering her mouth, now lacking any desire to fight what was happening to her. I forced her thighs a few inches further apart and settled into a push-up position, renewing my rutting at a faster pace, determined to fuck another baby into this woman.

The bed began to creak as my rutting grew more aggressive. Mrs Martinez shifted and squirmed as much as she could, ineffectually slapping at my arms and shoulders as I violated her, forcing her to take my cock into her most intimate depths. However, slowly but surely, her struggling became feebler; and her distressed whimpers metamorphosed into moans of pleasure. I increased my tempo until I was a raging animal, my mind clouded with primal masculine lust, thrusting my horse-cock into my victim's pussy which was growing slicker by the second.

Mrs Martinez suddenly arched her back and let out a muffled scream of pleasure, writhing like a feral cat in heat. I felt her love-tunnel gush with feminine fluid, easing the violation I was inflicting upon her. I planted my hand on her chest and forced her back down to the bed, using my arm to anchor myself and restrain her as I fucked her with bestial ferocity. The wet slapping of my nut sack against her ass cheeks was audible throughout the room, and possibly in the hallway outside; in any case, I could hold back no longer.

The painful churning in my testicles and prostate ballooned, and I snarled through gritted teeth as my own climax overwhelmed me, thrusting my manhood into Valentina's MILF cunt all the way to the hilt. The churning followed the path of least resistance to the base of my penis and shot out of the tip and into her pussy as though from a water cannon. My sticky, virile fluid jetted out and settled in a growing puddle right at the base of my victim's cervix. My victim was still orgasming and I could feel the muscles of her love-canal squeezing rhythmically on my cock, milking it for every drop it was worth before drawing it up through her cervix and into her womb. My seed had been planted.

Valentina was panting with exhaustion, overwhelmed emotionally as well as physically by the ordeal I had just subjected her to. I cradled her in my arms like a lover, and instinctively she hugged me back. I held her like that for a good half hour, ensuring that my payload would be delivered and denying my freshly inseminated victim the possibility of douching it out. After a while she began to sob quietly. I didn't like that; now was my cue to leave. As Valentina relaxed her reciprocal hold, probably too scared to push me away, I pulled out of her pussy. A quick feel of her sex revealed copious lubricant but no semen; I had cum too deep inside her for my seed to come spilling out again.

I got dressed again in the pitch black, tapped my trouser pockets to make sure I still had the bag of incriminating items, and clambered off the bed again, leaving the fucked out Mrs Martinez lying on the bed with a belly full of another man's DNA. A small twinge of guilt briefly pinched my chest at ploughing another man's woman, but it passed as quickly as it came. Leah would probably be disgusted at my lack of guilt with regard to my victim...or maybe she would be turned on by it, I actually had no idea.

I went straight to the window and opened it with my gloved hands. I had greased the hinges on the window as well, so the only sound was the cool summer breeze that wafted through the room, just like the night I first visited Leah...

I shook my head to rid my mind of these distracting sentimentalities; I could fantasise about Leah when I was actually fucking her again, for now I had to leave. I clambered out of the window and used the drain pipe to climb down to the ground, taking off my gloves and stuffing them into the sterile bag again. This done, I headed back to my hotel.

***

No one was on duty at the front desk and I used a simple lock pick to get back into my hotel; terrible security, they didn't even have any security cameras, not even fake ones. Once I got back to my hotel room, I disabled the fire alarm and burnt the contents of the sterile bag in the sink, using the extractor fan to get rid of the smoke. I then washed my clothes and took a shower. Obviously I couldn't get rid of everything I had left behind, but I just committed a rape not a bank robbery. I would have to count on Mrs Martinez not calling the police.

Consulting the specialist software on my laptop, I saw that none of the Martinez's phones had dialled 911, and the longer Mrs Martinez didn't call the police, the more reluctant she would be to admit to what had happened, especially if she got pregnant as a result. It is a well documented, but as yet unexplained, fact that women who live in the same household have synchronised ovulation cycles. I could infer from the tampon box receipt I had found in their house that both Valentina and Maria had had their periods just under two weeks ago. If my timing was right, and if luck was on my side, both women would end up carrying my illegitimate children. That would bring my total number of offspring to fifty two...but those women and the children I sired with them are separate stories altogether.

*

(Thanks to all my readers, and those who post comments or send me feedback. Comments, suggestions, and constructive criticism are welcome and actively encouraged by the author).



Intruder Ch. 07



Now that I knew everything I needed to about the Ziegler home's security systems, I could proceed against my original targets. Katrina and her daughter Zoë were particularly tantalising. If what Maria had said was true, then Zoë was a teenage virgin with piercings in her cunt and navel; merely picturing Zoë naked was enough to make me instantly hard and positively bristle with the need to sexually aggress. Young Zoë would be very pliable once I had 'broken her in', and might even come to bond with me the way Leah had done.

That being said, the female half of humanity had been programmed by evolution to be mortally terrified of rape. As much as I liked the idea of my victims developing Stockholm syndrome, I knew perfectly well that the chances of Zoë acquiescing in such an intimate intrusion of her body were extremely low. It had taken weeks to emotionally subdue Leah, and even then she still harboured perfectly natural misgivings about the feelings she had developed towards her rapist. Although forcing her into physical submission would be easy enough, there was absolutely no guarantee that I would be able to replicate my success with Leah when I finally did conquer Zoë.

Katrina, however, would be an entirely different game. Imagining this toned, fitness-conscious MILF naked was just as exciting as picturing her daughter. The feisty, short-tempered divorcee was no less likely to resist, but I got the distinct feeling that her resistance would be a lot more physical. I felt an excited tingle in my groin at the thought of some rough sex, particularly a struggle for dominance in which I would triumph through raw, virile strength, but there was also the likelihood that Katrina would get really violent in fighting me. I didn't want that, not least because I would have to physically injure her if she did; I may be a rapist, but the idea of beating a woman still offended the gentleman in me.

In any case, raping and impregnating two women over the next few weeks, with all the associated risks, would be an interesting challenge. It was only the second time I had tried this MO, and it was certainly a step up from keeping a woman prisoner in her own apartment. My exit strategy was prepared and the Ziegler phones had been tapped and the necessary settings "adjusted". The Martinez women had been an exciting detour, but the Zieglers were my original targets, and thanks to Maria Martinez I now had all the information I needed to get started.

***

Having grabbed a few hours of sleep after my Friday night activities in the Martinez home, I showed up for work the next day to clean the Zieglers' swimming pool. Katrina met me at the front door as usual, wearing her Capri jogging pants and sports bra, her toned, tanned stomach on full display and making me hard on sight. She gave me the keys to the shed as usual and left me to do the simple job of cleaning the pool. I was finished in all of fifteen minutes.

As I made my way back to the house I heard that something was wrong, there was shouting coming from the kitchen. The walls were clearly not soundproof, and I recognised the voices of Katrina and Zoë in heated argument. Instead of re-entering the house and potentially interrupting the argument, I lay down in a deckchair in the shadow of the house, out of sight of the kitchen window, and listened intently whilst pretending to bask in the afternoon shade.

"You know damn well why you've been grounded, missy!" yelled Katrina.

"I took a break with some friends, mom!" Zoë protested in response, "and they fired me for no fucking reason."

"The whole point of you doing this community service thing was as part of our deal on you taking a year out before going to college, and you've gone and lost it!"

"I don't want to go to college, mom! Don't you get that? I don't want to spend four years of my life studying some bullshit subject--"

"You are not gonna spend your life lounging around this fucking house just because we're loaded, you little brat!" the irate New York MILF screamed.

"Why the fuck not?!" Zoë screamed back, her teenage voice not nearly as aggressive as her mother's, "dad paid us a giant pile of cash when he dumped you, why can't we just use it?"

"We're going to use it to get you an education!"

"I don't want to go to college--"

"Oh, just go to your room." Katrina snapped, her patience worn out.

"I'm not a little girl anymore," Zoë objected, "You can't send me--"

"GO TO YOUR FUCKING ROOM!" Katrina's screech was so loud I actually jumped in my seat. That woman had strong lungs, almost as strong as her thighs, I imagined.

"Fine!" Princess Zoë shouted back defiantly, "maybe I'll just run away and get myself pregnant, you fascist bitch!"

The argument ended there as Zoë presumably stormed out. I slowly rose from my seat and quickly sat down again in startled surprise when the door shook as Katrina punched it hard; maybe boxing would be a better outlet than yoga. I stood up again and opened the door, striding into the kitchen as though I hadn't heard a thing.

"Ms Ziegler? I'm done cleaning the pool." Katrina had pulled out a bottle of wine, downing an entire glass in one go.

"Oh, hey there." she acknowledged me wearily, pouring herself another glass, "I'll get you your cash in a second."

"I'm guessing something's wrong." I ventured cautiously.

"Congratulations, buddy." Katrina shot back sarcastically, "you get a fucking medal for guessing what's totally fucking obvious. My daughter is a lazy, spoilt little brat who misses her daddy; so she acts like a bitch thinking that it'll get his attention, like he still gives a shit about her, about us. I'm telling you, don't ever have kids; and if you do, give 'em up for adoption. It's bad enough carrying 'em around inside you for months on end and then spending hours in pain while you squeeze 'em out between your legs -- well you're a guy, so you probably don't give a shit about all that -- but then you have to spend years raising 'em, only for them to treat you like dirt and act like their king or queen of the fucking universe as soon as they hit puberty." 

Katrina took a deep breath and regained her composure, then downed another half a glass.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that," Katrina continued apologetically, "you don't have to listen to me and my fucking problems. But it's not every day your own daughter calls you a bitch." She finished her second glass and reached for the bottle to pour herself another one. I put out a hand and stopped her.

"You'll get a headache if you drink anymore." I counselled.

"I already have one!" Katrina snapped irritably, then relented and sealed the bottle before returning it to the fridge, "I don't know what the fuck to do with her."

"I'm sure she'll calm down in an hour." I reassured Katrina confidently, not at all convinced by my prediction.

"No she won't," Katrina contradicted me, "you guys have it easy; when you have an argument, you beat the crap out of each other, and afterwards you're friends again. Us girls, though, we've got a ritual to follow. We get angry, scream and yell, maybe pull each other's hair out, then storm out, ignore each other for a few days, the whole nine yards; then we kiss and make up. She ain't gonna calm down, and neither am I. Not for a long while."

As fascinating as the trials and tribulations of the Ziegler household were, they didn't alter my original plans. It was time that I collected my cash and left.

"I've gotta get going." I announced, "Do you have my cash?"

"Sure, follow me."

I followed Katrina out of the kitchen to an exquisitely furnished living room where she had left her handbag. I ogled her ass as she bent over to retrieve my payment. She pulled out a 300 dollar wad of cash and handed it to me. Then suddenly, and completely without warning, tears started to form in her hazel coloured eyes.

"I don't know what to do with her," Katrina sobbed, her tough, no nonsense, blunt-talking New Yorker's exterior melting away before me, "she was the sweetest thing before her ass-hole father left us for some harlot half my age. Now she's a stubborn little bitch who never does what I tell her to."

All this soul bearing was making me uncomfortable, and sapping my initiative. I stuffed the cash into my pocket and took a nervous step backwards. Then suddenly, Katrina grabbed my face and kissed me full on the lips.

"Fuck me." She whispered.

"What?" I said, taken aback at this emotional ambush.

"Did I stutter? I told you to fuck me." As if to emphasise the point, Katrina reached down and took a firm grip of my masculine equipment, I went instantaneously from uncomfortable to alarmed "I need to feel a cock inside me again."

Katrina began to massage my crotch, squeezing and relaxing ever so gently. It took a conscious effort on my part not to squirm in response. I had been ambushed once again and this time I was totally powerless to refuse sex. Yet despite the uncomfortable sensation of acute vulnerability I felt, Katrina's manual stimulation was strangely pleasurable. A flutter of pleasure grew in my groin as my cock began to harden and grow in size. At the same time, Katrina nuzzled her face into my neck, kissing and sucking hungrily as my manhood responded to her ministrations. I decided to grow a pair and take charge.

"Get on your back." I commanded, whispering huskily into Katrina's ear.

"What?" Katrina asked me, pausing her groping.

"Did I stutter?" I replied sternly, "I told you to get on your back."

Katrina pulled back slowly, leaning back slightly as though to obey my command, then yelped in surprise as I pushed her onto the couch behind her, pulling aggressively at her Capri jogging pants like a horny rapist. Katrina eagerly helped me, divesting herself of her jogging pants and underwear in one go, and revealing an exquisitely formed womanhood. She had been rendered totally hairless down below by a Brazilian wax and her sex resembled a teenager's, looking ripe and ready for the taking.

I pulled down my trousers and underwear, and released my solidly erect manhood for Katrina to see. She gasped at the size of it and hungrily spread her legs to invite it into her depths. Taking my throbbing cock in hand I pressed the bright purple head up against her opening and forced it in without ceremony. Katrina gasped at the sensation and arched her back reflexively as I drove my manhood home. She was moist enough but would need some work.

Katrina began to thrust back at me even before I had begun, grasping at my shoulders, and looking at me with ravenous eyes. I thrust long and hard into her, making her moan in semi-sated appreciation. Her passage was getting wetter as my man-rod filled her up, rubbing against the little nub that could only be her g-spot. Katrina was driven to new heights of lust by my stimulation of her most intimate depths, she didn't yelp like a powerless rape victim, she didn't squeal like a violated virgin, she wrapped her arms around my back and moaned like a woman.

I fucked her more ferociously now, overtaken by masculine lust, but also driven partly by anger. This woman had held my most precious possessions in the grip of her hand and held the power to squeeze them. The sense of vulnerability, even of personal violation, ironically enough, had rattled my sense of masculinity. I had to reassert my power and physically reiterate why men were dominant over women; so I fucked this presumptuous MILF like a driven animal, rutting her back into her place with my male weaponry.

Katrina, oblivious to my self-consciously chauvinistic philosophising, continued to thrust her hips back at me, clawing at my shoulder and back like a feral cat and moaning at the top of her lungs like a professional whore. When her orgasm came, her moans turned to squeals as the ecstasy caused her body to twitch and jerk violently. Poor Katrina probably hadn't been laid since she got divorced; if so, she was gorging herself like a starving refugee at a buffet dinner. 

Without warning, Katrina wrapped her already airborne legs around my waist and used her hips to roll me over onto my back. Now Katrina was the dominant one, and she acted like it. She rocked and rolled her hips backwards and forwards making it hard for me to hold my own impending orgasm at bay. Maria had been very talented at cowgirl the previous night, but experience and two years of weekly yoga classes meant my little Hispanic slut had nothing on this cock hungry New York tiger-mother.

Katrina's sleek feminine abs rippled as she rocked, while the woman herself reached behind her back and undid the sports bra holding her massive bust in place. The plastic surgeon who did Katrina's operation had certainly earned his fee; Katrina's breasts had been inflated to a luscious, but still natural looking size with a pair of dark areola almost an inch across. They bounced as we fucked, and her rocking motions became more vigorous, demonstrating her eagerness for the final act.

Finally, I could hold back my own pleasure no longer. The orgasmic churning in my groin reached the point-of-no-return and I seized Katrina's hips, holding her firmly in place and preventing her from unplugging my cock from her womanhood. Then I thrust up into her as hard as I could, lifting her several inches into the air and snarling as I did so. Katrina threw her head back in bleary eyed ecstasy, revelling in our coupling as my cum spewed up and into her depths like water from a geyser.

I suspended her on my hips like that for a whole minute as the virile contents of my balls were dumped into her before lowering my groin downwards again and allowing her to collapse forward onto my chest with my deflating cock still buried inside her. I wrapped my arms across her back and she reciprocated, sliding her arms underneath my shirt to grasp the breadth of my torso and snuggling into my bear hug.

"Was I good?" Katrina asked me silkily.

"You fuck like a goddess," I said in response. I would have preferred to ambush her in the night, but the compliment wasn't far from the truth.

"Good to know," she replied contentedly, "I've been out of practice for two years. The last two things my ex-husband gave me before he left was a big fat cheque for our divorce settlement and the second-best screw of my life."

"Second best?"

"Well, you just knocked it down from first." Katrina answered in admiration, "Plus, your junk is a helluva lot bigger than my ex-husband's."

"Good to know."

"Sorry for crying like a little bitch just now," Katrina continued, resting her head on my shoulder, "it's just hard raising a teenage girl who acts like a spoilt brat because she misses her daddy; or maybe I'm just a crappy parent. In any case I'm out of ideas."

"You think she'll follow through on threatening to get pregnant?" I prompted, hoping to have Katrina corroborate Maria's stories.

"Nah," was Katrina's dismissive reply, "girls scream all kinds of bullshit at each other when they're pissed. Besides, Zoë's still a virgin, and that's not gonna change anytime soon."

"She's a virgin?" I asked.

"What, you think because a girl dresses like a whore that means she is one?" Katrina asked me rhetorically. That was exactly what I thought. "Let me tell you something, buddy; girls dress up to get people's attention and to make themselves feel sexy. My little girl is trying too hard, and failing at both. Most of all, she wants her daddy's attention, except he's not around to see what happens to a spoilt teenage girl with no father, so she takes it out on me. That's her biggest god damn problem. Luckily, she has enough sense to know that she's not gonna get respect by spreading her legs for every guy she meets."

Katrina paused for breath and thought whilst I digested all of this useful and freely given intelligence on my target.

"Sometimes, though," Katrina mused, "I think she needs to get laid, so she won't be such a high-strung, insecure little brat." I looked forward to carrying out Katrina's proposed cure for her daughter's attitude with lecherous anticipation whilst questioning the logic behind it. Then Katrina looked up at me with her hazel coloured eyes, and I detected an uncharacteristic glint of intrigue in them.

"How would you like to make a woman out of my daughter?" she asked me. I knew exactly what she meant, and yet it still took several seconds to process.

"How would I like to what your daughter?" I asked, thinking I'd misheard.

"How would you like to fuck my daughter?" Katrina repeated slowly.

"You mean rape your daughter?" I asked, still not quite sure that it was possible for a mother to make such a request against their own child.

"Rape, fuck, screw, have intercourse with, call it whatever you like," Katrina answered dismissively, "you heard me loud and clear. I want you to take that horse-dick of yours, shove it up my daughter's spoilt, unspoilt little pussy, and fuck her till she screams, then keep fucking her till she's been filled to the brim." She paused to let the words sink in.

"Why?" I asked, still in a state of disbelief over Katrina's request.

"Because I want you to knock her up," Katrina said bluntly, "once she's gone through all the trouble I went through to have her, she'll be a bit more mature about her life choices. When my ex-husband got me pregnant with Zoë I had to change everything about my lifestyle, and I ended up the better for it."

This was definitely not part of the plan. I had never even heard of such a proposal, and was genuinely lost for words at what Katrina was asking me to do to her own daughter.

"But the trauma of rape must be horrible to go through, you can't seriously want that done to your own daughter, can you?" Under any other circumstances I would have laughed at the spectacle of me, myself an unrepentant rapist, protesting on behalf of rape victims about the trauma inflicted by the men who attacked them. It was true that I liked to think of myself as a comparatively 'gentle' rapist, i.e. concerned with sexual dominance of my victims and not degrading and humiliating them for the sake of it; but I wasn't a sex offender for hire, and I certainly didn't do what I did to 'teach my victims a lesson'.

"I told you, I'm out of ideas," insisted Katrina, "besides, it's about time she had a real cock inside her, instead of the stupid dildo she uses. But I'm serious; I will pay you to fuck my daughter from now till the end of next week if that's what it takes. She's on my health insurance plan, so she can't get the pill or an abortion without my written consent. You do the fucking and I'll do the rest."

"Ok," I said very reluctantly, "how exactly would this work?"

"Come over at midnight, tonight. I'll make Zoë go to bed before then. I'll let you into the house and direct you to her room. Then just do to her what you did to Maria." My head shot up at the mention of Maria's name.

"What about Maria?" I asked suspiciously. Katrina smiled like a succubus.

"My yoga class was cancelled last week, so I came home to get a shower and change into something more comfortable, only to find the pool guy screwing my daughter's best friend in the shower. I even had some private time outside the bathroom door whilst you two fucked." Katrina drank up my obvious discomfort with gusto. "So you can't plead to me that you don't like barely legal teen pussy."

Maria was a consenting adult, so there was very little blackmail value in this somewhat embarrassing revelation. Even so, I felt very exposed and vulnerable to Katrina, even though she was still sprawled naked across my chest impaled on my cock.

"Anyway, if you won't do it for an ageing single mom, then at least do it for some extra cash," Katrina continued, determined to pursue her plan, "I'll pay you 1K for each time you cum inside her. How's that sound?"

"That sounds...like a deal." I replied tentatively.




Intruder Ch. 07



"Good." Katrina smiled, lifting herself off of me and getting dressed again. I got off the couch and put my own clothes back on. "Now remember," Katrina said to me, invading my personal space and pinning me to the spot with a gentle but firm grip on my manhood, "come to the gate at midnight, not a minute beforehand. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am." I replied with just the right dose of cautious enthusiasm. I pulled her in close to me and kissed her assertively, and she acquiesced in my mouth-to-mouth assault. Katrina broke off the kiss in order to speak.

"Call me 'Kat' from now on," Katrina whispered seductively in my ear.

"Ok, Kat." I answered, "Just one more thing, are you on the pill?"

"No," Katrina answered dryly, "Don't look so worried, I'm nearly half a century old. I'm still having periods, but as much as I like the idea of starting from scratch I'm not likely to have any more kids." 'We'll see about that' I thought deviously.

"You'd better go home and get some rest," Katrina concluded, showing me to the door, "tonight's gonna be a long night." On that we could both agree.

***

For the first time ever, I was genuinely conflicted about raping Zoë. Her own mother had commissioned me to commit against her the most intensely personal crime it was possible for a man to commit against a woman. Contract killings made sense even though they were illegal, and rightly so, but contract rapes? Who on earth would pay someone to rape someone else, let alone their own daughter?

The questions kept circulating my head like a squad of interrogators in a prison cell. I hadn't spoken to Zoë directly, but from what her mother and best friend had told me she clearly had some problems. That being said, Katrina's proposed solution was absolutely insane, not to mention sadistic; if I didn't know better I would have concluded that this mad scheme was born out of a mixture of parental desperation and a post-coital high. What Zoë needed was a decent father figure, not a rape to put her in her place. She was barely 18 years old, any younger and I would have refused outright.

Still, she was incredibly attractive and of legal age; and the chance to inseminate a virgin girl with belly and cunt piercings was almost too good for me to pass up. Zoë would be emotionally scarred by having her virginity raped out of her, but she might end up enjoying it; and I would gain another illegitimate child to add to my sizeable progeny. So eventually, selfishly perhaps, I decided to go along with Katrina's plan.

In any case, unexpectedly nailing Katrina and being asked to rape her daughter had dealt a double blow to my carefully laid plans. I would have to redo my exit strategy from scratch if I was to get out of this without getting caught, especially if I wanted to see Leah again.

***

I arrived at the Ziegler mansion gates at midnight sharp, and texted Katrina to let her know I was there. A minute later the gates were opened remotely, and I made my way up to the front door where Miss Ziegler was waiting for me. She was wearing silk pyjamas and a bathrobe, and her hair was tied up in a bun.

"I was worried you might back out," she said to me, clearly pleased that I hadn't. She let me into the house and led me upstairs to the corridor where Zoë's bedroom was.

"Are you sure you want me to do this, Kat?" I asked in a whisper.

"I've tried and failed to change her out of being a spoilt little girl," Katrina replied adamantly, "I love her to death, but someone needs to make a woman out of her; and seeing how you performed this afternoon, it might as well be you."

"Ok," I acknowledged.

"Just do it as many times as it takes," said Katrina, dropping to her knees and unzipping the fly of my trousers, "here, let me get you started." Katrina freed my flaccid cock from my trousers and applied her mouth to it, carefully massaging my nuts as she did so. A strong buzz of pleasure bloomed in the tip of my prick and in the base of my balls as Katrina sucked like a champion. In no time at all I was hard as a rock.

"First door on the left halfway down the corridor," Katrina instructed me, "my room's the last door on the right."

"Maybe I'll come visit you afterwards." I said, acting as though it were a suggestion.

"I'd like that," Katrina replied with a cougar smile, before turning serious and earnest, "also, one more thing before you start; don't go easy on her just because she's a virgin, fuck her like you fucked me today."

"I will," I assured her. With that, I proceeded to fulfil my first ever contract rape.

***

There was no light coming from the crack beneath Zoë's door, so she was probably asleep by now. Then again probably not, what kind of teenager went to bed at midnight, anyway? I put on a ski mask in case Zoë had a light on, and gripped the door knob, turning it with the utmost care. I hadn't had the chance to grease the hinges in the Ziegler mansion, so squeaking and creaking were to be expected. I slowly opened the door, mindful of the slightest noise, and slipped into the room without making a sound.

Unlike the pitch black which greeted me when I made my move on Maria's mother, Zoë was gracious enough to provide me with a light source. Her duvet covers were glowing from the light of an iPod or some Smartphone; hopefully this meant that she wouldn't hear me coming. I crept towards the bed, mindful of the piles of clothes strewn across the floor. As I approached, I picked up a faintly musical noise from beneath Zoë's covers; her headphones' volume must be on maximum for her not to notice me there.

After Katrina's blowjob, my cock was starting to go flaccid again, so I reached down my trousers and began to masturbate, something I almost never did. I could see the outline of Zoë's slender, but shapely, teenage body stretched out on her stomach like a sunbather. I wondered what kind of pyjamas she was wearing, or if she was going to sleep in her underwear, perhaps even naked; it would certainly save me the trouble if she went to bed in the buff. These fantasies flooded my mind as I stood over Zoë, whacking off like a pervert. I forced down the laugh that threatened to surge up my throat; I was a rapist, the worst kind of pervert in existence.

Before long, I was hard again, and I spent a few minutes jacking off like a teenage boy before proceeding with the plan. Quietly stripping down until I was totally naked, I leaned forward ready to tear the covers away. Suddenly the light underneath Zoë's covers disappeared, leaving me in complete darkness, and the covers shifted as Zoë moved them aside and dumped her iPod and headphones on the floor. There was no way that she could have seen or heard me, but in a sudden panic I pounced on her.

My hand clamped down over her mouth as my body bore down on hers, trapping her beneath my weight even as my hand trapped her muffled screams in her throat. She wriggled and struggled like a feral cat as I fought to lodge myself between her teenage thighs. Zoë had clearly inherited some of her mother's feistiness as she continue to struggle ferociously against me, but it was to no avail as I finally forced my way between her thighs and pressed my huge, rock-solid manhood up against her groin, pinning her in place with my weight. I could feel that Zoë was wearing some kind of nightwear and would have to divest her of it before I could proceed. But more than that, I had to see her body piercings for myself, so I took a profound risk. I reached over to her bedside table, and switched on the light.

Zoë squirmed with renewed fright when the light was switched on, beholding my gloriously naked body rippling with muscles, and my 7 inch cock rubbing against the crotch of her nightwear. Zoë looked even cuter up close, with her brown hair and blond highlights flowing across her shoulders and chest. She was wearing a dull grey pair of pyjama bottoms cropped above the ankles and a cropped pyjama top which gave me an exquisite view of the jewelled piercing which crowned her smooth belly. A rush of excitement swept through my body from my groin upwards; that belly gem made her look so inviting, so eager to be taken, even if her struggles and muffled screams suggested otherwise.

I reached down and applied my fingers to Zoë's crotch, rubbing her around her clitoris to get her lubricated enough to allow me inside. I could feel a distinct nub of metal where her clitoris was, and my heart leapt with sexual excitement to know that Maria was telling the truth about her best friend having a cunt piercing. Zoë continued to rock and struggle as I mercilessly pleasured her most sensitive area. Before long I could feel a distinct wet patch blooming in the crotch of her pyjamas. Zoë felt it too, and redoubled her futile efforts to dislodge me.

Once I was satisfied with my victim's moistness, I gripped the crotch of Zoë's pyjama bottoms in my fist and yanked it all the way down. Zoë immediately began kicking at me like bronco, but I wedged my way in between her legs again before she could connect the sole of her foot with my face. Her teenage pussy was now totally exposed with nothing protecting it from its first penetration. There was indeed a piercing through Zoë's clitoral hood, a silver barbell running vertically through the flesh. It was fully healed, and it made me wild with anticipation.

Already too well placed between Zoë's legs for her to prevent the inevitable, I took my aching erection in my free hand and rubbed the purple head of my manhood up and down her teenage snatch. Her little barbell shone in the light and I delighted in how Zoë shuddered with involuntary pleasure as I teased her clit. She was frozen by her body's acquiescence in this assault, making her as helpless as Leah on our first night. Still holding my rock-solid cock in one hand and covering her mouth with the other, I leaned in close to Zoë, pressing my bare skin against hers, and slid inside her.

Zoë was tight, really tight; her mouth gaped and her eyes widened in shock as I slid my full length and girth in between the lips of her fertile entrance. The natural lubrication of her previously untouched womanhood eased my intrusion into her body, but her passageway still squeezed my member like a python with its prey. Zoë was definitely a virgin.

I stopped sliding in and began to retract my aching cock out of Zoë's exceedingly tight passageway again, priming my steely-hard manhood just inside the entrance to Zoë's womanhood, and making ready to end Zoë's existence as a pubescent and naïve teenage girl once and for all.

"Tonight you become a woman, my dear." I whispered huskily into Zoë's ear. Then with all the strength my hips could muster, I deflowered Zoë Zeigler.

Zoë screamed aloud in pain. I kept her mouth covered so that no one would hear. I was now balls deep in the youngest virgin I had ever taken. Her pussy was unbelievably tight, gripping my bull-like cock like a vice; a warm, wet, succulent vice that treacherously provided the intruder inside it with ample lubricant as I began to thrust.

My first strokes were long and powerful, fucking Zoë all the way to the back of her vagina. Zoë yelped in pain as my man-rod stretched out her most intimate interior like a balloon. As the rape progressed, Zoë began to put up more resistance. Her previously idle hands now began to beat and scratch at my shoulders and back, doing no real harm but exciting me beyond measure as they signified how helpless my victim was to resist the consequences of my masculine urges. Zoë was fighting back as though she could still prevent my inevitable conquest of her body, a notion I would disabuse her of in the days to come.

I responded to Zoë's spirited but futile resistance by increasing the tempo of my strokes. She also tried to shift and struggle with her hips and waist as I fucked her, ultimately ending up inadvertently thrusting her hips back into my own, making me smile at her feistiness. Her pussy was now slick with her juices, and the vigorous movement of my manhood within her produced liquid sounds which excited me even further. Zoë's resistance would crumble once I started forcing her to climax.

Zoë inhaled sharply as her first cock-induced orgasm struck her head on. She arched her back reflexively and sensually scratched my back, her mind momentarily fogged by the ecstasy that flooded her senses. She would go back to fighting me again once her first climax had passed, but after a few cycles of being made to orgasm against her will her resolve will dissolve away like sugar in boiling water.

I wanted this rape to go on for longer than normal, so instead of increasing the tempo of my strokes I started to grind my pubic bone into Zoë's groin. Aside from making the woman look like a whore in bed, genital piercings have the useful advantage of increasing the woman's pleasure, especially the kind Zoë had which rubbed right up against the clitoris. The result was that my teenage victim experienced a second orgasm right on the heels of the first which sent her wild with unrestrained ecstasy.

Doubtless this ecstasy must have been accompanied by a not inconsiderable amount of pain as my huge cock stretched out the most delicate part of her body which had never before known an intruder other than the pathetic dildo she probably used. But she was only a little tighter than Leah had been when I first took her; and, like my first real mistress, I would continue to fuck Zoë until I had bred her, by which time her womanhood would be well accustomed to fleshy intrusion.

My own climax was starting to build in my prostate as the sensation of pounding this deliciously tight and wet teenage virgin with all my strength began to erode my capacity to resist. I increased the speed of my strokes to a bullish frenzy, ramming her like a piston on full power. Zoë was so badly shaken by the ferocity of our mating that she appeared to stop fighting back altogether, her muffled screams and yelps were now delirious cries of pleasure which would come back to haunt her in the aftermath of her dramatic transition into womanhood.

The pleasure in my groin pooled in my swollen nut sack before reaching the brim and blossoming in my prostate like a bonfire of pure sexuality. With one last mighty thrust and an unrestrained roar of pleasure, I rammed my cock all the way up to the gates of Zoë's inner temple and my virile offering to her innate fertility exploded from the tip of my cock into her. My virile seed gushed into Zoë's body in wet sticky jets that flooded her to the brim, and I felt the rhythmic muscular ripples of her vaginal walls ritually massaging my manhood and drawing my masculine seed into her depths as her virgin cervix eagerly sucked up my sperm and deposited it inside the inner sanctum of her femininity.

I lay atop my latest conquest, revelling in the sheer masculinity of this experience; this was the purest expression of manliness I had ever discovered. I had learned long ago that the purpose of my masculine existence was to dominate women and force them to submit to my will; not through misogynistic intimidation or violence, but through raw sexual intensity backed up by the superior upper and lower body strength endowed by nature.

Best of all was the knowledge that Zoë would still have to submit to my will long after I was gone by bearing and raising the consequence of my virility. She would give birth to my child as so many others had before her, as Leah would eventually do, fulfilling her purpose as a woman. Looking down at Zoë's panting, semi-naked, freshly deflowered body, I was reminded as I was every time exactly why I adored the female gender; so beautiful, so sensual, such an awe-inspiring power to create life within themselves, and so empowering to harness that power and exercise it to its full potential.

As my ejaculations became residual trickles and my orgasm receded like the tide, it occurred to me that if I were ever caught and made to divulge my motivations to investigators, I would probably be judged to be criminally insane and incarcerated in a psychiatric facility instead of a normal prison. It didn't matter to me; I always made sure not to get caught. The rest of society may not accept my philosophy as true, but that wasn't a problem. It was true to me, and that was all that mattered.

***

I had already tapped all the phones in the house as well as the mobile phones of both Zoë and Katrina; so no one in this house would be calling the police about anything, which left me safe for the time being. Having finished with Zoë and collected my clothes again, I exited her room and quietly closed the door behind me. Katrina was waiting for me.

"Damn, handy he-man; you fuck like a god on steroids." said the worst mother in the world, whispering so as not to be overheard by her recently contract-raped daughter.

"Happy to help, Kat." was my blandly formal reply.

"First time's always the hardest," Katrina said, without a shade of concern for the fact that she had pledged money to have her daughter's innocence destroyed through sexual assault, "but with a sex-god like you taking her every night, she'll start to like. By the time she squeezes out my grandkid, she'll be a lot more appreciative of what I've gone through for her."

I wanted to shake my head in disbelief at this woman's warped logic and her callous pettiness towards her own child; or better still, pimp slap her across the face and tell her that her daughter needed a father not a rapist. But either of those actions might have looked suspicious, to say nothing of the mild dose of hypocrisy inherent in my disapproval of Katrina. So instead I nodded my agreement and turned to leave. Before I could leave, Katrina grabbed me by the collar.

"Not so fast," she whispered sultrily in my ear, "walk out the door after midnight and you'll trip the alarms. Besides, I haven't paid you yet, and I'm too tired to get the cash now. You'll just have to keep me entertained until morning."

I reluctantly allowed Katrina to lead me like a dog on a leash to her own bedroom. She undid her dressing gown and let it slip to the floor, revealing her naked body to me in all its full frontal glory. In spite of my disgust at her parenting skills, my flaccid cock immediately regained its stiffness at the sight of Katrina toned and curvaceous outline. This would be a very long night.

*

(Thank you to all my readers and commentors, your thoughts and support are invaluable and greatly appreciated. Don't forget to leave any comments and suggestions you have below!) 



Intruder Ch. 08



After deflowering Zoë Ziegler so vigorously, with payment from her own mother for the deed, I spent over three weeks fucking Katrina Ziegler by day and raping her daughter by night. Zoë always retained her defiance every time I took her, struggling like a feral cat before succumbing to my thrusts and the involuntary pleasure they gave her. She took to locking her bedroom door and sleeping in different rooms to try and evade me, all without success -- she even tried to knee me in the nuts once, after which I anger-raped her with extra ferocity -- and over time her physical resistance began to wear away. I made sure to wear my ski mask every time I attacked Zoë, but couldn't be totally sure she hadn't figured out who I was, or rather who I was pretending to be. In the daytime, Zoë walked around looking far more subdued than her usual self, not even interested in the fact that she was still grounded, and therefore a prisoner in the house at the mercy of her night-time rapist.

Katrina on the other hand was in very high spirits thanks to me. She was even more cock hungry than Zoë's best friend Maria. Two years is a long time to go without a real man's cock inside you, and when I wasn't busy raping her daughter, Katrina had me every time she was able to get me alone. She hadn't had the slightest misgivings about paying me to rape and impregnate her own daughter, and still didn't weeks afterwards; she even laughed when I told her how I anger-raped Zoë after she tried to knee me between the legs.

"Good thing you showed the little brat who's boss, huh?" she remarked flippantly, "Now how about you come over here and show me who's boss?"

I was now carefully considering how long this could go on for. Zoë's spirit was dampened by the nightly physical and sexual subjugation she had to undergo, but hardly broken. She was very unlikely to accept my dominance over her, even with the humiliating experience of being forced to orgasm during every rape, and might try something drastic to make me stop. I didn't want to have to injure her, but I would be forced to if she tried to stab me or ambush me in some way in retaliation for my crimes against her bodily integrity. I may be a rapist, but I do have the honesty to admit to myself that what I do is against the law and usually against my victim's wishes.

I was also beginning to doubt Katrina's motives in all this. Such was Katrina's quasi-sadistic disregard for her own daughter's well-being that I seriously wondered whether she wasn't really setting me up for something. It didn't seem likely that she would go to all the trouble of recruiting me to rape her daughter just to turn me over to the police, especially given that I could and would implicate her in recruiting me to do so if I were ever caught, to say nothing of the abysmally low conviction rates for rape across the United States. Still, it wouldn't hurt to take a few precautions whilst I set up my exit plan.

In any case, I wanted to see my favourite rape victim again. Leah had been the first victim of mine with whom I had stayed for any period of time, and was certainly the first with whom I had developed any sort of attachment. She had come to accept my domination of her body in a way that stoked my masculine instincts to invigorating heights. She didn't fight me every step of the way as Zoë did, a perfectly understandable reaction in any woman, but neither was she a drooling slave eager to be humiliated. She was a free-willed woman; and, more importantly, she was my woman.

Furthermore, I cared about all my children, but only in an abstract way given that I had never met them or provided anything to them beyond remotely sabotaging their mothers' efforts to have them aborted as well as depositing my DNA inside their mothers' to get the ball rolling in the first place. But spending such a length of time with one such mother-to-be, who had never taken the opportunity to run away or slit my throat in the middle of the night, made me feel genuinely attached to her and the child she carried. Indeed, I actually felt responsible for her well-being. I had to go back soon and check up on her.

***

It was near the end of October and I lay on a deck chair in the shadow of the Ziegler mansion, enjoying the early autumn weather. The glorious California sun was slowly fading towards the west, casting a tranquil orange haze over the horizon, and a light breeze wafted through the air. Zoë was inside, perhaps barricading herself inside her bedroom in preparation for the next rape. Katrina, meanwhile, was outside with me, flaunting her swimming skills in the party pool for me to see. She was pretty agile in the water and clearly enjoyed it more than jogging round the neighbourhood. I considered stripping off and ambushing her in the water, but ultimately decided to just watch for now.

Eventually, Katrina finished her swimming exercises and climbed out of the pool, grabbing a towel and drying herself off as she approached me. She was wearing a deliciously skimpy two piece swimsuit, the kind one usually sees on swimwear models, and my manhood rose to attention at the sight of it, as did I.

"Is that a horse cock in your pants, or are you just pleased to see me?" Katrina Ziegler quipped with a prurient smile.

I approached her and manfully grabbed her waist, pulling her in towards me and kissing her hungrily. She dropped the towel and held my head in response as our tongues intertwined, slipping a hand down, and grabbing a handful of my ass as we kissed. After a few moments Katrina broke off the kiss.

"It's getting late," she murmured, "and I still need to pay you for fucking Zoë last night."

As I followed Katrina back to the house I couldn't help but notice that she no longer looked as toned as before. She still strutted with a model's body, but her toned abs had faded considerably over the past few weeks, and there was more flesh visible on her hips and waist. Not that she looked fat, far from it. She just looked fleshier; more statuesque; more...womanly. As we walked into the kitchen, Katrina surprised me by opening the fridge, pulling out some yoghurt, and devouring the entire pack. She was clearly no longer on any kind of diet.

"Not worried about your figure anymore?" I noted casually.

"Nope," was Katrina's laconic response, "besides, I'm gonna get really fat soon, anyway." She looked at me expectantly whilst I decrypted the meaning behind this statement.

"Are you...pregnant?" I ventured.

"Congratulations, Einstein. You're gonna be a daddy." Katrina announced, tossing the empty yoghurts into the rubbish bin.

"Oh, I thought that..." I began tentatively.

"That I was all dried up in there?" Katrina unilaterally finished my sentence, "well, apparently not, handy he-man. And statistically speaking, dumping a pint of cum in a woman's pussy every day for a month straight makes you more likely to give that woman a swollen belly. Do the math and don't be surprised at the numbers you get."

"No, I meant I thought you didn't want any more kids." I corrected her.

"Well, they're a pain to look after when they hit their teens, sure." Katrina conceded, "But despite what I may have said before, there's nothing more amazing than feeling a life grow inside you, and seeing that life emerge from your body. It's the one thing that unites all of womankind: motherhood. I haven't been a very good mom to Zoë, but maybe now we'll have a chance to start over, by going through the same experience together."

Katrina's voice grew softer as she spoke, and she looked almost wistful as she explained this to me, even though I had to suppress a laugh when she made the spectacular understatement of admitting that she wasn't a particularly good parent to Zoë. But there was genuinely maternal compassion in her voice this time; did she regret contracting me to rape her daughter?

"Is Zoë pregnant too then?" I asked after a pause.

"Yep, missed her period just like me," Katrina confirmed, "she probably hasn't noticed yet, too scared of you to pay attention, but I've known her since the minute she was born; you've given me a second kid and grandkid in one go."

I paused in thought for a while, contemplating with virile pride the fact that I had now sired 54 children. Maria had called me up last week to confirm that she was pregnant, and to feign annoyance at the fact that it was my fault as well as to threaten to pursue me for child support, as if she needed the money, interspersed with sultry invitations to come back. She had also been happy to gossip about the fact that her parents were having another baby, apparently failing to notice the extraordinary coincidence in these two events. I couldn't be totally certain that I was the father of Maria's unborn sibling, but I could always come back in a year to confirm.

"Unless you're deciding whether to fuck me on the counter or on the floor, I suggest you come and collect your cash, daydreamer." Katrina abruptly interrupted my thoughts.

I followed her out of the kitchen and through the house, still thinking on the move. I had accomplished my original MILF hunt and successfully fathered at least three, potentially four, new illegitimate children -- I didn't like calling them bastards -- and even though it had not gone quite accordingly to plan, it had been a very stimulating adventure. But now, it was time to leave. I would take the money and run, keeping tabs on my victims in the months to come.

I followed Katrina into her bedroom and shut the door. Unlike certain teenagers I had gotten to know, Ms Ziegler actually liked to put her clothes away when she wasn't wearing them. She had a queen sized bed just like Zoë, but it had actually been made, and the floor was devoid of clothing, making it a change from stepping around piles of laundry to get to somewhere. Katrina stripped off her swimsuit in front of me without embarrassment and put on a bathrobe.

"Your cash is in the bag over there." Katrina gestured to a supermarket shopping bag sitting on a chair in the corner of the room.

I walked over to the chair whilst Katrina went to the bathroom and opened up the bag, it was stuffed with bundles of cash in small denominations. Katrina returned from the bathroom and I didn't bother to turn round.

A click behind me froze me in my movements. Every soldier recognised that sound.

"Turn around, slowly." Katrina ordered menacingly. I did as I was told, calmly raising my hands in surrender as I did so.

Katrina Ziegler was still wearing a bathrobe, and had tied her dried off her hair into a neat bun behind her head. She was aiming a Smith and Wesson 686 squarely at my head.

"Sorry pal, but there's no place for a rapist in me and my daughter's future," said Katrina.

"So you finally decided it wasn't such a good idea to pay a guy to rape your own child?" I asked calmly. In comparison to what I had gone through in my service, a duplicitous cougar-mother aiming a pistol at me was far from terrifying. Still, that was no reason to get cocky.

"No, I don't regret that," explained Katrina, her gun hand steady from practice, "I really was at my wits end when I asked you to pop Zoë's cherry. But she'll end up the better for it, and her mom will be there to guide her every step of the way. I've thought about it long and hard, and this is the way it has to be."

"Well since I'm about to die, how exactly will this play out?" I asked casually.

"I shoot you; the gunshot wakes up Katrina who runs in to see that mommy's just gunned down the man who raped her. Then we call the cops and I explain how I found out you were raping my daughter and confronted you, you tried to strangle me and I shot you in self defence."

"So will you admit to sleeping with the pool guy or did he come visit you in the night too?" I continued to press for details, being already aware of at least one flaw in Katrina's dastardly scheme to mend fences with her daughter.

"I toyed with that idea," admitted Katrina, "but it'd be kinda hard to imagine a guy raping two women in the same house for weeks on end. So yeah, I'll have to admit that I was sleeping with the pool guy, only to discover that he was preying on my daughter as well. Once this whole mess is behind us, I'll admit to Zoë that I'm also pregnant but that I want to keep it. She'll want to abort hers and I'll talk her out of it by telling her that the baby's a spark of hope in the darkness of her trauma, or some bullshit like that."

"You honestly think that making her give birth to a rapist's child will be enough to persuade her to go to college?"

"I wasn't lying about what I told you downstairs," Katrina continued, genuine sincerity permeating her words, "the experience of motherhood unites all women; and when I hold my grandchild for the first time and show Zoë how beautiful he or she is, she'll realise how important it is to get a better life for herself in order to get a better life for her own child. And while she's at college, I can start over on being a better mom to Zoë's half sibling as well as Zoë's kid, and it will all be thanks to you."

"So I was just a walking sperm bank, is that it?"

"That's exactly what you were," Katrina confirmed, making me feel stung by her response, "not that I don't appreciate your help; in a lot of ways, yours is the most important contribution of all. But you're a guy; you'd never understand what it means to carry a life inside you, to spend hours delivering it into the world; although, if you're decent enough you might stick around to watch it grow into a person. My ex-husband lasted fifteen years before bailing out, and there was no one to support me except myself. Not this time though, Zoë and I will have each other, we'll have a picture-perfect future together with our respective kids, and I'm afraid there's no room for you in that picture. Plus, I can't have you telling the cops that I paid you to get this whole thing moving. So I'm sorry, but as much as I would've liked to keep you around for your lower body strength, I'll just have to hire someone else to clean the pool."

***

If you put a gun to someone's head, there are only two kinds of people who will do anything other than exactly what they are told: psychopaths and trained killers. I will leave it to you to guess which one I am, and which one is more dangerous.

In the split second that Katrina finished her sentence I swept one hand around and swatted the gun aside, while at the same time clenching my other hand into a bear paw gesture and rabbit punching Katrina in the throat; not hard enough to do any real damage, but just enough to have her gasping for air. The gun dropped from her hand and I caught it deftly in mine and pressed it underneath her chin whilst gripping her throat with my other hand.

"Breathe..." I murmured soothingly as Katrina continued to choke, turning pale faced at the magnitude of her mistake.

"Now that was an incredibly stupid thing to do, my dear," I said softly, dropping my fake American accent for my more sinister British one, "wouldn't you agree?"

"P...please...don't kill...my daughter." Katrina pleaded between breaths.

"Why on Earth would I do that?" I replied with perfect upper class British elocution, "She didn't try to shoot me or plot to stage my murder as an act of self defence. You on the other hand..."

"But...I'm pregnant...with your child." Katrina continued to beg while still struggling to catch her breath through her temporarily collapsed throat.

"Are you really, Kat?" I asked her, lowering the gun down to her belly, "Because at the right angle, a bullet can be made to pass straight through the womb and out the other side, missing all the internal organs major blood vessels, and thereby killing the embryo whilst leaving the woman alive." A look of pure horror spread across Katrina's face as she absorbed my claim and the feigned knowledge of biology upon which it was based.

"No, please don't do that," she pleaded, genuine tears welling up in her eyes, "either kill me or leave me alone, but I'd rather die than live through that; and you'll never forgive yourself if you kill your own unborn child."

"You're right," I said immediately, taking the gun off her belly, "just a Solomon's test."

In spite of the menacing situation that had brewed, and in spite of the fact that I was now holding a pregnant woman at gunpoint, the closeness of our bodies was starting to make me horny again. Katrina's surgically enhanced cleavage was on display through her bathrobe and the hem of her robe only reached down to her knees, leaving her bare legs on display, to say nothing of the fact that she was naked underneath. The rapist in me took charge.

"Clearly there's no place for the pool boy in your rosy future life with Zoë, but the sperm bank would like to make one last deposit before he leaves. Get on the bed and don't make a sound." I commanded menacingly, and pushed Katrina away from me. She stumbled backwards and landed harmlessly onto her back.

Whilst keeping my victim in check with the gun, I undid my shoes and pulled off my shorts and boxers, then motioned for her to strip as well. She did so, slowly and obediently undoing the cord of her bathrobe and removing it from her shoulders before scooting backwards onto the bed, keeping her thighs shut together.

She looked absolutely delicious. Less exercise and more food over the course of a month had given Katrina a truly venusian figure with toned legs and thighs, exquisite child bearing hips with enough flesh on them to sustain the child that was growing within. Her waist narrowed like a guitar, and her belly -- although it lacked a piercing that would have driven me wild with lust -- looked sensuously smooth with her abs only faintly visible now. Her beautiful stomach led up to her buoyant rack with their sizeable areola, crowning her chest in all their artificially enhanced glory. Katrina still had an attractive face and flowing brown hair at 44, and there was a glint of angry defiance mixed in with the fear in her eyes. She was perfect.

"Spread your legs, Kat." I ordered, approaching her with the gun still aimed at her head. Katrina reluctantly spread her thighs, giving me a delicious view of her waxed snatch.

"If I fuck you; will you let my daughter and I go?" asked Katrina hopefully, her normally blunt tone subdued in deference to her soon-to-be rapist and the gun in his hand.

"Firstly, women do not fuck, they get fucked," I responded whilst clambering onto the bed, naked from the waist down, "secondly, after I fuck you, I will do whatever I please; that being said, how well you perform will directly influence whether or not I decide to hurt you or Zoë."

Katrina sat up on her elbows as I approached her, keeping her legs obediently spread. I kept the gun aimed at her in case she planned to knee me; but she didn't try it, and I parked myself between her thighs without incident. She gazed up at me with her big hazel eyes, nervously anticipating what she had enjoyed so much for nearly a month.

"Don't worry, I'll play fair." I wrapped my free hand around Katrina's throat and reached forward, placing the gun on the pillow behind her.

As soon as I released the gun Katrina began to struggle, so I squeezed her throat to choke off her resistance, just enough to allow me to penetrate her freely. Using my free hand, I took hold of my manhood and lined it up with Katrina's hairless snatch, rubbing it up and down her entrance until her juices were flowing. Katrina strained to fight back against me, but didn't dare struggle too hard lest I squeeze her throat again. Instead, she looked at me with a defiant scowl. I looked her straight in the eyes, and thrust forward.

Katrina yelped aloud as I thrust into her for what was probably the final time. I stripped off my shirt and tossed it onto the floor, releasing my grip on Katrina's throat as I did so. She began to struggle again as I proceeded with our last fuck, thrusting into her with mercilessly hard strokes. Katrina continued to fight back, scratching and snarling at me like a mother tigress. I slapped her hands away as I fucked her before grabbing her by the wrists and restraining her. Zoë had been troublesome to subjugate, but at least now I knew where she got her spunk from.




Intruder Ch. 08



I leaned down and pressed my chest against Katrina's ample bosom, pinning her wrists down to the bed and thrusting harder and harder into her. With her arms immobilised, Katrina tried to buck and heave in a futile attempt to dislodge me. Her movements excited me even more than her hot body and spirited resistance, and I increased the tempo of our mating, mashing my groin into hers with each stroke. Her pussy felt slick, it was warm and wet and accommodating as my man-rod thrust in and out and in again; her body didn't care that this was rape, it simply responded to my every touch exactly the way evolution had intended it to.

Katrina was trying so hard not to succumb to my cock. She grunted through gritted teeth on every stroke, refusing to yelp like a helpless rape victim, and refusing to moan as though she were enjoying it. But the overwhelming vigour of my thrusts and her sheer powerlessness under my imprisoning weight and strength slowly eroded her will, and her grunts gradually became moans, though still made through gritted teeth.

With my face muzzled into her neck, I released her wrists from captivity. Katrina immediately sank her nails into the flesh of my back as I raped her; her hips now unmistakeably shifting back and forth to meet my oncoming thrusts. She had acquired a potent craving for my cock inside her, in spite of the fact that she had tried to betray me, and it showed in every little movement she now made.

Katrina arched her back and viciously scratched mine as her orgasm washed over her. She let loose a proper moan of pleasure this time, not even pretending that she wasn't enjoying being raped by the 'sperm bank'. Her legs were suspended in mid air, shaking back and forth as I fucked her, and she planted the soles of her feet on my ass cheeks as they rose and fell with each stroke. I continued to mash my groin into hers as we mated, determined to force her to a second orgasm before I came.

Before long, Katrina arrived at her second climax, thrashing wildly as the pleasure swamped her senses. I accelerated the pace of our mating once again, pistoning my rock-hard prick into her soaking wet womanhood with primal ferocity. My cum-filled testicles slapped against her ass cheeks like balls smacking into a pillow, and the excess juices from her love-tunnel created an audible squelching sound as we mated. Suddenly, she put both her hands on the back of my head and pulled me in close.

"Cum for me, handy he-man." she whispered salaciously into my ear, "Give me your seed like the man you are."

Her deliciously dirty statement, whispered directly into my ear, was the last straw. My own pleasure had been brewing and churning inside my groin like a boiling cauldron, and I breached the threshold of no return. I thrust forward with all the virile intensity I could muster and snarled as my seed boiled up from within me and shot in jets from the end of my manhood, saturating the interior of Katrina's already pregnant pussy with the same DNA that now grew within her womb. Her third climax cascaded with the previous one and she reflexively squeezed my torso between her thighs, digging her nails into my back and shoulders, and scratching hard.

As we glided down on the eddy currents of our mutual climax, Katrina slid one hand across the back of my neck and pulled me into a sensual kiss. I closed my eyes as our tongues intertwined like two mating snakes, mirroring the intertwining of our bodies. Katrina broke off the kiss and gazed at me with a soft smile on her face.

"I love guys so much," Katrina said in a silky, almost dreamy voice, "You're so strong, so handy...so sexual...and so, so," I felt the touch of cold steel against my temple, "...stupid." Katrina concluded her praise for the masculine gender with the seductively evil smile of a black widow. She had the gun again.

"You know," Katrina continued, locking me in place with an arousing femme fatale gaze, "you could've knocked me the fuck out, taken the money, and run. But like everything with a cock and balls, most of your brainpower is between your legs. You couldn't resist plunging that giant horse-cock of yours into my middle-aged snatch one last time; and now you're mine again."

"Oh dear," I said with quintessentially British understatement.

"Well I kinda feel like I should thank you," continued Katrina with a gloating air, "you truly are the best screw I've ever had, and having came inside me one last time, I can now spin the story that you surprised me in my bedroom and raped me. And whilst you were busy filling me with your seed, I reached for the gun which I always keep under my pillow and blew your fucking brains out. Sure I got pregnant as a result, but so did my daughter; and in addition to our pregnancies, we'll also be brought closer together by something else: rape trauma."

"You are by far the worst mother I have ever..." I began to comment.

"Shut the fuck up!" Katrina hissed, pressing her gun against my temple to emphasise the point, "everything I've done, I've done for Zoë's sake. She'll be stronger after this, and so will our kids. Speaking of which, I should skin you alive for threatening to kill your own unborn child; my child. The only reason I'm not gonna to do that is I have a plan to stick to."

"So do I get any last words?" I asked with not a little sarcasm.

"Yes, you do," Katrina replied endearingly, "it's just occurred to me that I've never actually asked your name."

"Why would you bother to learn the pool guy's name?" I wondered aloud.

"I wouldn't," was Katrina's honest reply, "but I would like to know who the father of my child and grandchild is. I might even name one of 'em after you."

"David Gilmore." I said casually.

"Well, David Gilmore," Katrina answered, "it's time to say good night." With that she pulled the trigger.

There was a resounding click as the trigger released the cocking hammer, striking the metal of the gun.

Nothing happened.

Quick as lightning, I snatched the gun from Katrina's hand by the barrel, seized her by the chin, and used the butt of the revolver to knock her the fuck out.

I withdrew my flaccid member from inside the unconscious mother of the as yet unborn 'David Gilmore Junior' and climbed off the bed. I slid a small cushion underneath Katrina hips -- just in case she wasn't actually pregnant yet -- put my clothes back on and wiped my fingerprints off of the gun. I put the stashed gun inside the bag full of cash and took it with me, but not before turning around to take one last look at Ms Katrina Ziegler, lying spread-eagled and unconscious on the bed like a cum-filled whore.

"Goodnight."

***

Before checking out of my hotel under the name James Bauer, I remotely accessed the Ziegler phones and deactivated the tap that prevented them from calling 911, made a few final preparations for my exit plan and destroyed anything potentially incriminating that I couldn't take with me. Two hours later, 'Jack Bond' was sitting comfortably on a flight departing from LAX, safe in the knowledge that the Beverley Hills PD's investigation would take them in some very interesting directions, but none of them would lead back to me.

Katrina had caught me completely by surprise when she threatened to kill me, but she had not caught me unprepared. No one ever catches me unprepared. I knew every detail about the Ziegler family as long as there was an electronic trail leading me to it. I found out weeks before I'd even met Katrina that she was a registered gun owner, and had taken the precaution of replacing her weapon with an identical model that I had modified myself. The firing pin in the weapon Katrina had pointed at me was a few millimetres too short, meaning that it was too short to physically touch the bullet. Contrary to Katrina's assertion, most of my brainpower is not in fact located in my groin; indeed, I devote most of my considerable brainpower to ensuring that I live to fuck another day.

*

(As always, comments, suggestions, and feedback are welcome. I don't always respond to feedback, but I always read what my readers have to say, and take it into account for future releases. So if you have something to say, say it!)



Intruder Ch. 09



Only thirteen weeks along and my pregnancy was already starting to screw with my internal body clock. I awoke at five in the morning and simply wasn't tired enough to fall back to sleep, so I got up and started the day with a shower before making myself a hearty pre-dawn breakfast. My rapist had been gone for nearly two months, and I had never felt so much emotional turmoil in my life.

The awe of his presence near me, and especially inside me, had now faded far enough into the past that I could look back on our time together with real objectivity. Underneath the genuinely emotional connection I had started to develop towards him, along with the raw physical and sexual attraction that had made me such a cooperative rape victim, there had been something else there; a faint, sickly after-taste beneath the whirlwind of other, sweeter feelings I had felt towards him: it had been fear.

Its presence was so obvious in retrospect, and yet it hadn't really occurred to me that it was even there. I had been afraid of my rapist all the time that I had been his prisoner, of course I had been. That was why I hadn't dared to try and kill him in his sleep or run screaming out of the apartment, there was always the underlying fear that he would exact some terrible reprisal against me and my unborn child. Thinking about how much of my acquiescence was fear and how much of it was genuine attraction or even lust was making my head hurt; or maybe it was just dehydration. I poured myself a glass of water and downed it like a shot of whisky.

I would probably be hungry again in a few hours, but in the meantime I returned to my bedroom and switched on the TV. There was the usual assortment of pre-dawn Adult channels with naked tarts wiggling their junk on screen, but eventually I found the news.

"...Another bizarre twist in the case of the alleged serial rape of an 18 year old girl in Beverley Hills, California. The alleged victim's mother, identified only as KZ, who told investigators that her daughter was sexually assaulted over the course of a month by the man she had hired for domestic chores, is now being questioned by police with the possible charge of soliciting prostitution looming over her head after she admitted to being in a consensual relationship with the alleged rapist and after the alleged rapist's cell phone number, provided by KZ to investigators, turned out to be the main contact number for a male escort agency called California Cupids.

The Chief Executive of California Cupids, Marina Horowitz, has denied that KZ was ever a client of her firm, and has strenuously denied that California Cupids is a prostitution ring, even though one of the company's employees, a man identified as 23 year old David Gilmore, has been named by BHPD as the prime suspect in the alleged rape of KZ's daughter, who cannot be identified for legal reasons..."

I switched off the TV again, not in the mood to be reminded too much of rape. That being said, the photograph of David Gilmore did bear a superficial resemblance to my rapist. He wasn't nearly as handsome and he lacked the entrancing emerald eyes of the man who deflowered me, but there were enough similarities that I couldn't shake it from my head. Did my rapist have something to do with that case? Was David Gilmore one of his aliases?

I thought of him taking those women in the dead of night, selfishly filling them with his seed before disappearing into the darkness, never intending to be a part of the new lives he had brought into being. I imagined he would have executed some ingenious escape plan before anyone could catch him, using David Gilmore as a decoy, or perhaps as a fall guy. I imagined him secretly returning to this city, to my apartment, to me. I imagined him sliding onto the bed, sliding on top of me, sliding into me when I was at my most vulnerable...

I shook my head clear of such fantasies. I had no guarantee that he was ever coming back, in spite of the promise he had made to be back in time for the birth. Besides, the man was a rapist; the fact that a part of me actually missed my rapist was rather perverse. I looked at the time; it was still only 6am. What the hell. This was my apartment, I could fantasise about whatever I wanted. I slowly reclined onto the bed and spread my thighs a little, reaching down into my bathrobe to touch the tender folds of my sex.

I closed my eyes and rolled my head back, picturing my rapist in all his naked glory towering over my vulnerable frame; his beautiful green eyes set into a chiselled masculine face, his exquisitely muscular torso, and his beast-like manhood, standing tall and proud, ready to make a woman out of me again and again. A tender finger rub couldn't possibly match the feel of his horse-like cock inside me; but I would just have to make do until he came back, if he ever came back.

My feminine fluids began to leak from me down onto the sheets as I circled my clit with my fingers, and the fuzzy warmth of sexual pleasure began to pool in my groin. I had seldom, if ever, pleasured myself before he had come to me, but ever since he'd left I couldn't get enough of this activity. I wanted him back; I wanted him back on top of me; I wanted him back inside of me. Carrying a part of him inside my belly simply wasn't enough.

I stuck two fingers into my pregnant pussy, imagining as best I could his thrusting manhood inside me, aggressively probing my feminine depths, threatening to fill me with his virile seed as he had done so many times before, and to so many other women before. A digitally induced orgasm began to build and build inside my groin, making me frig myself until I arched my back in an orgasmic state and moaned out load as the pleasure swept through me.

I lay on my back for the next hour as my orgasmic afterglow slowly receded; as it faded, so too did the rather fantastical image of my rapist that had clouded my mind. I was fully entitled to some self-pleasure once in a while, but fantasising about the man who raped me smacked of Stockholm syndrome. As my alarm clock beeped, I disabled it and got ready for the day...again.

***

Once I'd eaten my second breakfast and was dressed and ready for work, I set the alarm and locked the door. In addition to a clothes shopping spree, I had also spent a chunk of the mysterious $500,000 deposit in my account on boosted security. The windows were now double glazed, making them intruder proof, and supplemented by an air-conditioning system that was actually quiet as well as effective. My home alarm was state-of-the-art and the front door was reinforced with multiple bolts and a single extra-strong lock. As mixed as my feelings about my rapist were, there was nothing ambiguous about my need for security.

I locked the front door and headed towards the elevator. David was already there and he greeted me with a smile. I smiled back and greeted him with a big two armed hug.

"Morning beautiful," he beamed at me, "how are you today?"

"Tired," I admitted with a slight yawn, "I woke up at five in the morning and couldn't get back to sleep."

"The hormones are taking effect already, I see." He noted sympathetically.

"Yeah, it's probably a girl." I told him.

"How do you know?"

"I'm starting to get really bad mood swings."

"Isn't that a stereotype that women are more emotional?" he asked me attempting to affect a disapproving look.

"Absolutely not," I replied adamantly, "at for me it runs in the family. My mom told me that once, when she was pregnant with me, she burst into tears because the milk in her cereal wasn't cold enough."

"Ok, now you're just yanking my chain." David answered laughing.

"No, I'm deadly serious," I said, joining with his laughter.

"Maybe I'll ask your parents when I get to meet them."

***

The elevator arrived and we rode it down together. David was tall and handsome with a cute button nose, pearly white teeth, and a little stud in his earlobe. His eyes were green and they lit up when he smiled. He worked as a doctor at the same hospital I did, and had even moved onto the same floor as me shortly after the other man in my life had gone on his merry way. David had been my shoulder to lean on ever since, and he never expected anything from me in return. He was also the only person to whom I had confided my pregnancy, though I couldn't bring myself to tell him how I had come to be that way, or who was responsible.

We were chatting and laughing all the way to the hospital before beginning our separate shifts. He was a full-time gynaecologist and obstetrician, and I was still just a nurse. My bump wasn't showing yet, but I was already heaving to wear bras that were a cup size larger than before. I also found it more comfortable to wear pantihose under my clothes, and I felt sexier too.

"Hey Leah," called a masculine voice. A rugged and mischievous looking young man approached me with an endearing smile. Dean looked happy to see me, he usually was.

"Hi Dean," I answered, trying to affect a friendly acknowledgement, "I was just gonna start doing the rounds on the 2nd floor."

"Oh, mind if I join you?" he said enthusiastically.

"Uh, not at all," I said with slight hesitation.

"Good, we should get it done twice as fast."

Dean was a nice enough person; with messy hair and a bad boy glint in his eyes, he was enthusiastic about his job and liked to make people laugh, especially young women. I was a little wary of him; then again, I was a little wary of guys in general since getting pregnant. Every girl knows what guys are ultimately after, and rumour had it that Dean had already scored with a few of my more naïve female colleagues. Still, he was civil enough to me.

We worked our way down each corridor until the entire floor was done, with Dean making small talk all the way. It was a little distracting having him talk to me whilst we were doing our jobs, but I listened as attentively as I could, laughed at his jokes, and even found some of them genuinely funny. Before I knew it, it was time for a lunch break, and Dean invited me to join him at the staff cafeteria; I politely declined since I hated the food there, and ate a salad with David instead. David was better company and I felt a lot more comfortable when he was around, plus I could freely discuss my condition with him.

***

The end of the day was nearing, and I had finally finished the afternoon rounds of the 3rd floor, plus I helped a doctor stabilise a patient who was undergoing a myocardial infarction. It had been a pretty good day, and now I could head home and relax.

"Nurse L. Taylor, report to 21-C on the 3rd floor, Nurse L. Taylor to 21-C, 3rd floor."

My heart sank at the announcement of the surprise errand, followed by a flash of anger and disappointment sweeping through me. Then I shook my head in bewilderment, it was just one more errand to run. Being pregnant was making angry, happy, and miserable at even the smallest things. If and when my rapist ever returned, I was going to slap him across the face for screwing up my previously well balanced emotional swings by impregnating me. I probably wasn't going to do that; but until then, one last job and I could go home.

I was already in corridor C and room 21 was at the end of the corridor, so I made my way to my required destination. As I approached 21-C, it did occur to me how odd it was to summon a specific nurse to a specific room in the hospital. Normally, if there was a problem, whoever was unoccupied would be sent down to fix it.

The light was on in the room and the patient was buried under the covers, presumably fast asleep. As I stepped into the patient's room, I noticed that the heartbeat and breathing monitors were switched off, and that they weren't actually hooked up to anything. With a nervous feeling suddenly clenching my stomach, I reached over and pulled back the covers. There was just a pair of pillows arranged to resemble a person.

The lights snapped off and a masculine hand grabbed my mouth. I squealed in terror through the hand, knowing that no one would hear my cries for help as my attacker shut the door behind me and locked it. He then spun me around and pushed me up against the bed, keeping my mouth covered whilst he grabbed my pants and yanked them down, roughly groping the crotch of my pantihose, which was already getting wet from the excitement of this attack. My attacker was already completely naked and I struggled against his powerful hands and muscular body as he pinned me to the edge of the bed and assaulted me.

After getting my juices flowing through my underwear, my attacker gripped a handful of my pantihose and ripped a hole in it. I yelped in indignation as he tore through the expensive material and aggressively shifted my panties to one side before expertly rubbing the nub of my clit with his fingers. My eyes rolled back as the pleasure began to coarse through me in pulses, my feeble resistance melting away as the assault progressed. Balanced on the edge of the hospital bed, I involuntarily lifted my feet off the ground and held onto my attacker's powerful shoulders as he violated my bodily integrity.

His hand went from rubbing my love-button to sliding in between my lower lips, making me gasp aloud as he released my mouth and began to undo the buttons on my shirt, exposing my black lace bra to him and copping a feel of my ample breasts. I hugged him ever closer to my body as he assaulted my body and the pleasure assaulted my senses. His fingers wriggled inside me in a come-hither expression that reached my precious g-spot, driving me absolutely wild. His massive horse-cock poked at me, smearing pre-cum onto the bare skin of my thigh, and his well filled balls rubbed up and down my leg as he humped at me.

I stifled an ecstatic squeal to avoid being overheard as he brought me to a digitally-induced orgasm, and wrapped my legs behind his in eagerness for more. I felt suddenly empty as he withdrew his fingers from me and took hold of his man-rod, lining it up with my pussy. I was dripping wet down there and could barely contain my anticipation as the head of his cock made contact with my womanhood. He rubbed his cock up and down my entrance, soaking the head of his penis in my copious juices before plunging himself into me in one stroke.

I gave out a high pitched moan as I felt his cock fill me up to the back of my pussy, our groins connecting fully at the crotch. His thrusts were long and strong, his hips slapping into mine with audible force at each stroke. I mewled helplessly at each stroke and held on for dear life as he took hold of my hips to guide his cock home. He grunted with masculine determination as he humped me, ramming his groin into mine and gradually increasing the rate of his strokes. My bump was barely visible, but I leaned back a little to protect my tummy from the force of his humping, just in case.

My attacker increased his speed to a feral frenzy, rutting my helpless pussy like a champion stallion balls deep in a mare in heat. My orgasm was fast approaching, and judging from the intensity of his mating thrusts, so was his. I couldn't help but let out a high-pitched squeak of ecstasy as my climax overwhelmed my senses, and I scratched at his back whilst reflexively crossing my ankles behind his back to trap his cock inside me.

With a furious snarl, my attacker forced himself all the way up to the hilt and ejaculated with the force of a fire hydrant. I felt his man-rod twitch and writhe inside me as the hot liquid of his man-seed gushed into my feminine depths. I snuggled into my rapist's hold, nestling into his neck as he filled me with his seed; if I weren't already pregnant, this would surely have done it.

"Where have you been all this time?" I asked dreamily, still in a post-orgasmic fugue.

"How did you know it was me?" my rapist asked in his deliciously British elocution.

"You had your way with me every night and day for nearly two months," I replied, caressing my intruder's muscular back, "after that, I think I'm pretty familiar with what your body feels like, against me and inside me."

"So absence really does make the heart grow fonder."

"Apparently; and besides, if I'd even suspected it was anyone but you, I'd have zapped you with enough juice to power this hospital for a week."

"Is that right?" he replied with sceptical amusement. A loud electric zapping noise wiped the smirk off his face as I demonstrated my taser, "ok, now that I wasn't expecting from you."

"A girl can't be too careful these days," I said, locking onto his eyes with a disapproving scowl, "with dirty, no good rapists on the prowl, attacking helpless women at home and at work."

I held my scowl for as long as possible before we both broke down into mutual laughter.

"I'm so glad you came back," I murmured affectionately, hugging my rapist close to my body, "part of me was afraid you wouldn't."

"I'm glad to be back," he replied reassuringly, reciprocating the hug whilst still buried inside me, "especially after that nonsense in California."

"That was you in Beverley Hills?" I asked in genuine surprise.

"Yes," he admitted, "although it's not quite what it sounds like on the news."

"I bet."

"Your shift is over, I believe." He said, releasing me from his hug and withdrawing from me, "how about we go home to talk about it?"

"Only if you promise to buy me a new set of pantihose," I qualified, putting my taser back in my pocket and shifting my panties back into position.

"What for?"

"Because you tore the ones I'm wearing!" I complained, indicating the rip in the crotch of my pantihose, "plus, you need to make up for the fact that you never called me, and the fact that you've just criminally assaulted me...again."

"OK, I promise."

***

Once we were both dressed again, my rapist and I exited the unused room and walked back down the corridor together. He was dressed as a hospital orderly, complete with a fake ID tag and a small bag full of technical equipment which he must have used to issue the bogus intercom announcement. It did occur to me how perverse it was to be glad that my rapist was back, and yet I was; he was still the father of my child, after all. Plus he was ten times more handsome than any man I'd ever met, even David. As we headed towards the exit at the other end of the corridor, the door opened and Dean appeared.

"Hey, I was wondering where you'd gotten to." Dean called to me with a relieved smile on his face, walking towards us and not noticing the intruder beside me.

"Yeah, I had one last errand to run before my shift ended," I replied, trying to simultaneously suppress my hesitation and my puzzlement at why Dean had been looking for me.

"Oh, you mean an emergency?" prompted Dean.

"No, someone just needed their IV solution swapped out," interjected my rapist with a smooth American accent. Dean's eyes turned to the towering male beside me and the smile was wiped right off his face.

"You swapped out a patient's IV solution?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"That's what I just said." replied my rapist.

"And it took two of you to do that?" Dean continued with his eyes narrowed.

"Well I'm not qualified to do that so when I saw something was wrong I called Ms Taylor over to help me." I was impressed and slightly unnerved by how smooth a liar my rapist was, but the suspicion on Dean's face was slowly giving way to grudging belief.

The two men were unconsciously flexing their muscles in front of one another. Dean was glaring up at his much larger rival with a faintly aggressive look on his face, and my rapist – who stead several inches taller than Dean – was looking down at him with the superior sneer of an alpha. Even though I was trying hard to resist the urge to roll my eyes at this macho stand-off, it was pretty clear who the dominant male was.




Intruder Ch. 09



"We were just heading out, by the way." said my rapist, finally breaking the testosterone saturated silence before I had to.

"Yes, of course, I don't want to keep you from anything important," Dean glanced down at the intruder's name tag, "'Greg'." Then he quietly stalked away with his head held as high as he could, giving me a softer glance as he did so.

"Who the fuck was that?" asked my rapist, making me look up at him in surprise as I had never heard him swear before.

"Dean Kaczynski, he's a colleague of mine."

"I don't think he likes me."

"I can't imagine why."

***

We made our way to the ground floor of the hospital, with my rapist guarding me like I was the president. When we got to the front desk, I saw David in his white coat speaking with some other staff, and I politely interrupted his conversation with a happy smile.

"Dave, I'm heading home now, are you coming?"

"I can't," David replied apologetically, "doctors work longer hours, remember? Sorry."

"Oh, well I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Have a good night, Leah." He gave me a kiss on the cheek and I went back to the intruder who had been patiently waiting for me – and looked none too pleased at my friendship with another guy.

"What?"

"Another colleague of yours?" my rapist asked with narrowed, predatory looking eyes.

"Yeah, that's David, Dr. Hatfield." I explained blithely, "he's a close friend of mine. In fact he lives on the same floor as me."

"I see," my intruder acknowledged suspiciously. I stepped slowly into his personal space and gazed up into his eyes.

"Your eyes look green today," I said softly.

"My eyes are always green." He replied obtusely.

"No, I mean they look a lot greener than they did when I last saw you."

"Wait, you think I'm jealous?" he said, wrong footed by my turn of phrase. I smiled mischievously at him and led him back home.

***

I led my rapist back to my apartment like an excited teenager returning from her first date, immune to the doublethink of having such feelings towards the man who had raped me and left me alone for so long. We had dinner together and I let him caress my pregnant belly whilst I told him about life as a single mother-to-be. He in turn told me all about his California adventures. His story was far stranger than the fiction the media had been led to believe.

"Her own mother paid you to rape her?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yes she did." He confirmed.

We were lying naked on my bed with him spooning me from behind. I was nestled into his arms as he slowly caressed my pregnant belly, no doubt feeling very proud of himself for his physical conquest of my body. The mixed feelings I had for him were still there, and would probably always be there.

"No one deserves a parent like that." I said, shaking my head.

"No argument here." My intruder replied in agreement, "Zoë needs a father, not a rapist."

"And yet you raped her anyway." I pointed out.

"I know that's incredibly hypocritical of me, but..." he didn't finish the sentence, and I'm not sure I wanted him to. A slightly awkward silence fell.

"Why me?" I asked after a pause.

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you choose me?"

"I came to this city for a summer break from things, and went to the big gym on the high street," he began to recount, "and I saw you there, working out on one of the Stair-masters. You were the most attractive woman there, with nothing on but jogging shorts and a sports bra; and your belly piercing was on full display. I had to resist the urge to just rape you right there on the floor of the gym."

"Uh, OK," I said a little dis-concertedly, "why, may I ask, did you not simply walk up to me and ask me out to dinner?"



"Because...you might have said no." he answered hesitantly. I guffawed, not quite believing what I was hearing.

"THAT is your excuse for raping me afterwards? You were afraid I might reject you?"

"I wasn't afraid, but you telling me 'no' was a perfectly real prospect."

"Are you kidding me?" I snorted in disbelief, "With your accent, I'd have spread my legs for you on the first date."

"Really?"

"Of course! In fact with a body like the one you have, coupled with your British accent, you could have pretty much any woman you wanted – me included – just by seducing them the normal way, i.e. the legal way." My rapist paused in thought, his hand drifting down towards my womanhood. I closed my eyes and let out a silent moan as he touched me.

"Perhaps," my rapist mused as he touched me, "but it's so much more fundamental than that. When a beautiful woman makes me horny, it would be a hundred times more satisfying to just act on those urges. To fuck because my instincts tell me to, rather than go through the long process of courtship and seduction, it just feels so much more natural, more manly, to do that, even if it is against the woman's wishes."

"And yet you plan out your rapes in such detail," I said, at once disgusted and fascinated by his rapist's mentality.

"I only do that to avoid getting caught afterwards," he explained, "otherwise, I would love to be able to just claim any woman I wanted simply because I can, and leave behind a permanent reminder of my masculine power over her."

"You must have had a very interesting childhood." I murmured to myself.

"And now you're thinking I was abused as a child and that's why I do what I do, aren't you?"

"Well no I...OK I was," I admitted to him, "but I know so little about you, it just seems like...you know what, forget I said that."

"Well, I suppose you've earned the right to know. My father was a colonel in the Royal Marines and my mother was a civilian administrator for the Royal Navy."

"That sounds like quite a couple." I smiled.

"He was there at my birth, but I never actually met him. He was already married, and with children." My rapist continued, "But he was never that faithful to his wife, in fact he was something of a predator." My rapist paused in mid-flow before continuing, "I was conceived on the floor of my mother's office."

"Wow, talk about lust at first sight."

"It was for him; when I was older, my mother admitted that it wasn't totally consensual."

"You were conceived through rape?" I asked, unable to hold back a tone of mild horror as my sense of female solidarity keened for the mother of my rapist.

"Legally speaking, yes." My rapist continued, "But she always downplayed that fact and spoke about him in such awe. How he saw her and wanted her, and just claimed her on the spot, because he wanted her, and how I was the result."

"How do you feel about it?" I asked, fascinated by this journey into my rapist's motivations, "the fact that you were conceived that way?"

"I've never quite been able to come to terms with it," my rapist answered frankly, "the fact that I owe my existence to such a brief moment of masculine lust, and how my mother happily and dutifully bore the consequences for years afterwards. That...that kind of power, I still find it awe-inspiring."

"So you did the same thing to women because you thought it would bring you closer to your father?" I was afraid to press on into this subject, but raging curiosity drove me forward.

"I didn't become a rapist because my father was one," my intruder answered categorically; "I chose to do that. But every time I take a woman, when I spill my seed inside her...the knowledge that I can deliver the spark of life into her simply by thrusting my hips forward, and that her body is designed to bear and raise the consequence of such a simple act on my part, whether she wanted the act to take place or not... it's hard to describe how intoxicating that feels for me. In some ways it's better than any orgasm could feel."

"Of course," I said unhappily, "rape is about power."

"In many ways it is, yes." He finally admitted.

"How many women have you 'overpowered' that way?"

"I've impregnated at least 54 women so far," he told me, "including you."

"And all because you can't take responsibility for your urges," I said, my mood swinging rapidly into resentful misery.

"It's an extraordinary power," he started to say.

"It's a selfish power!" I snapped, "Your father became horny for a few moments and satisfied his urges on the first receptacle he saw, and your mother had to go through the pain of childbirth and all the inconveniences of pregnancy and parenthood all by herself; and all because of your father's selfish need to relieve himself!" I burst into tears in my rapist's arms as he tried to comfort me, clearly rattled by the passion of my emotional outburst.

"I don't think you're talking about my parents, are you?" my rapist ventured.

"No I'm not!" I wept, "You raped me in my own bed, robbed me of my virginity, and after keeping me as a sex slave in my own home, you left me here with a pregnant belly for two months, and I missed you the whole time. Why the fuck would I miss the man who did such things to me?" My rapist didn't answer, how could he have done? Instead, he waited patiently for me to calm down, which eventually I did. I rolled over a little to face him.

"I'm sorry about that," I sniffled, wiping the tears from my eyes, "this pregnancy is giving me all kinds of mood swings, and that is your fault."

"I thought about you all the time I was in California," my rapist said with surprising compassion in his voice, wrapping his powerful arms around my body and embracing me close to his chest, "that's never really happened to me before. Having you for that period of time made me start to care for you as an individual, and I do care about the well-being of my children and the women who carry them, even though you're the first woman I've stayed with."

"So, you're not going to rape me for talking back to you?" I asked apprehensively.

"I don't rape women out of spite or as some form of punishment," he explained, "I do it out of lust. Right now, I'd rather take care of the mother of my child."

That was the sweetest thing I had ever heard him say, and I snuggled contentedly into his powerful embrace, feeling safe in his arms. The sense of security I felt with him no longer bore the slightest bit of irony, in spite of the fact that he had forced his baby into me against my will. Now, I wanted to have him with me, and I wanted to have his baby. He could have saved us both an awful lot of trouble if he had seduced me in the gym, but I didn't care about that now, I just wanted to fall asleep in my rapist's arms.

***

I've been trained and conditioned in such a way that I only require four hours of sleep at a time, and I awoke in the dead of night with Leah nestled into my arms. The feel of her naked body nestled against mine gave me a powerful sense of masculine pride, bolstered by the fact that she clearly felt safe in my arms. The touch of naked female flesh against my skin was also incredibly arousing as we spooned together, and my manhood slowly rose to attention as my masculine urges began to take charge.

For some reason I didn't want to take her by force as she slept. In the past part of the thrill of taking a woman against her will was to do it when she least expected it, in a place where she felt safest, such as her own home. That had been my MO for most of my targets before finding Leah, and the sense of conquest was always exquisite. But somehow that same sense failed to materialise within me, and instead I leaned forward and kissed Leah on the neck, gently waking her for some nocturnal sex.

She stirred gently in my arms and I reached down and slipped a hand between her thighs, gently rubbing her clitoris and causing silent gasps of pleasure to escape her mouth. She lifted her leg a little to give me greater access and I lifted it further, lodging my knee into the gap before talking hold of my manhood and lining it up with her pregnant sex. Leah gasped softly as the head of my hard-on made contact with her moist labia and I rubbed it up and down to get her juices flowing before entering, sliding my member in between her damp folds, and pushing all the way up to her cervix.

Leah let out a soft and audible moan as I began to pump her. My thrusts were gentle, a lot more gentle than usual. Leah's passageway was moist and smooth, and gave my cock no resistance as it stretched to accommodate me. But somehow it wasn't very satisfying. I started to pump a little faster, with a little more aggression, assert my masculine dominance over Leah and her beautiful feminine body.

"Slow down a bit, darling" murmured Leah softly, snuggling closer into my chest.

I obligingly slowed down, going for depth and intensity instead. My urges told me to be more aggressive, to be a man, and fuck her like one, but this tempo was making Leah happy, so I continued to make love her to that way. Leah, in turn, reached down to the point where our bodies connected and began to rub her clitoris, moving two fingers in quick circles over her love-button as my cock sawed into her.

I kept up my steady rhythm of fucking until Leah moaned aloud as she came, and I felt her vagina soak my thrusting cock with extra lubricant. In response, I increased the speed of my strokes just a little, and put a little bit more aggression into them. Leah didn't seem to notice, or mind; in fact she reached further down and found my testes, taking a gentle but firm grip on them as I continued to fuck her.

Memories of the treacherous femme fatale Katrina Zeigler put me off the development slightly, but I continued to perform. Leah was far gentler with her handling of my junk, caressing them softly as my own pleasure began to build in my groin. Leah's testicular massage was certainly having an effect, and I felt a sensual tingling in my balls as my orgasm neared. I increased the speed of my fucking just a little bit more as my pleasure went from a tingle to a blaze and surged up from my groin and out the end of my cock.

I held myself inside Leah as I unloaded the virile contents of my balls into her pregnant love-tunnel, and she moaned again as my ejaculations sent her into a second orgasm. I felt her cunt muscles contract in rhythm as they massaged the length of my cock, milking my seed from its tip and drawing into her body. My load was as large as any I had deposited, but the sex hadn't quite been as satisfying as I would have liked. Leah seemed to disagree, and closed her legs around my cock as it stayed buried in her depths whilst taking my arms and wrapping them around her like a blanket in winter. At least she was happy with our coupling, and I obliged her by kissing her on the neck and giving her a wholehearted embrace.

As I mused about my preference for non-consensual sex, Leah's earlier comments kept popping up in my mind. It was indeed hypocritical of me to empathise with Zoë's fatherless upbringing whilst siring so many children without any thought to helping raise them. Leah was the first, and would probably be the only, mother for whom I had directly cared. The doublethink was much easier to simply avoid, but I couldn't help feeling a little guilty over it.

But why on earth should I feel guilty about it? I'm a man. Surely fathering as many babies as possible without any thought towards the logistics of raising them was my evolutionary birthright? Men who did concern themselves with such things were betas and sissies. I had never been a beta-male and I had no intention of starting now.

Come to think of it, I wasn't so sure how much of that I actually believed and how much of it was a crude emulation of my father, whom I had never even spoken to. My mother had been a more than capable single parent, and had never been anything but supportive of me – although perhaps she didn't need to know about my rape sprees and other sexual adventures – but I honestly didn't know how things might have turned out if my biological father had at least paid regular visits, or indeed if I had had any father figure other than the wide-eyed paragon of manliness my mother said had fathered me.

I wondered briefly how many of my illegitimate offspring had begun to ask their mothers where daddy was, and how those women tried to explain to their children how they had been conceived. For some reason I didn't feel guilty about the trauma my actions inflicted upon the mothers; after all I hadn't physically harmed them, only psychologically, which was unavoidable. It was only the thought of how they were coping raising children they hadn't consented to have that tugged on my mind, like a persistent itch that wouldn't go away.

As Leah drifted off back to sleep in my arms, I couldn't help thinking that maybe I had a chance here. If I actually stayed around to be a father to our child in more than just the biological sense, he or she might have a far easier upbringing than I did. I had returned to Leah's arms for her and the unique attachment I felt towards her; but now that I was back, I felt a genuine attachment to the life I had planted inside her.

If I left Leah now, she would find someone else, if she hadn't already in the time I'd been gone, someone who wouldn't care that she wasn't carrying his baby. I'd be damned if I was going to lose her to some pusillanimous, beta-male prick; she was my woman, and she was carrying my child, I should be the one to be there for her. Perhaps it was time I started.

***

I was having the most beautifully sensual dream when I was awoken in the middle of the night by a gentle kiss on my neck. I glided pleasantly into the land of the waking, basking in the feeling a powerful masculine body against the skin of my back, the only masculine body who had ever gotten this close to me. It felt beautiful to be naked and pregnant, being spooned by the man who had made me this way, regardless of the circumstances surrounding how this had come to be; or perhaps I was too sleepy to care. 

I felt a hand slip down between my thighs and rub my love-button ever so gently. A silent gasp of pleasure escaped my mouth and I instinctively raised my leg a little to give him greater access. My intruder propped my leg up with his knee and I felt his masculine tool slide across the skin of my inner thighs and make contact with my womanhood. I gasped again as I felt his manhood touch my feminine gateway, and he rubbed the head up and down my labia, making my juices flow with the pleasure.

I moaned aloud when he slipped his member inside me, and I felt the head of horse-prick touch my cervix. He was so big and filling as he began to pump his cock into me. His thrusting was slow and gentle; it was just the right pace for our nocturnal love-making. He spoiled it a little but quickening his thrust too early, though.

"Slow down a bit, darling." I murmured softly, snuggling closer into his chest.

My rapist obliged and decreased his speed, thrusting into me slowly and deeply. It felt perfect. There was a repressed urgency to his movements inside me, like he wanted to fuck more aggressively but was restraining himself. It was a wonderful notion, so gentle and yet brimming with dormant strength. I reached down between my legs and began to pleasure myself to complement his strokes, and did this until I came for him.

In response to my orgasm, my rapist increased the speed of his strokes ever so slightly, possibly hoping that I wouldn't notice. I didn't mind. In fact, I decided to encourage him just a little by reaching down a little lower until I found his testes. I gave them the gentlest massage that I could, feeling a mischievous sense of pride that I finally had my rapist by the balls, the virile wellspring of the life that grew inside me.

No, I was not tempted to squeeze. He may be a rapist, but the gift of life he had given me was a beautiful one, and his particular gift might yet keep on giving, if I could convince him to stay.

As I massaged my intruder's testes, I felt the intensity of his thrusts grow gradually stronger until finally I felt him thrust himself deep into me and his cock twitched and pulsed as he semen spurted into me, depositing his liquid virility deep inside me. The sensation drove me into a second orgasm and I moaned aloud to declare it. I closed my legs around my rapist's cock, keeping it buried inside me, whilst making sure that his balls weren't squeezed, and snuggling into his arms. He seemed to like that, and reciprocated with a manfully protective embrace.




Intruder Ch. 09



He would probably have preferred to take me more aggressively, to rape me and subjugate me sexually – I would have liked that too if not for my pregnancy – but I appreciated his gentleness this time around. In fact it was the first time he had really made love to me in this way, without the primal urgency of a male needing to spread his seed; after all, he had already succeeded in that department. I loved it.

As I lay in his arms I wondered how long he was planning to stick around for, and tried to push to the back of my mind the question of whether I was the only one kept woman he had. Either way, I was glad he was here. I hoped he hadn't been put off by my outburst, and genuinely hoped that he would be a father to our daughter. Of course that might take some convincing, given his sexual propensities.

If I couldn't convince my mysterious British rapist-lover to stick around, I really wasn't sure who could even come close to measuring up. David was handsome and kind, and had been a tremendous source of emotional support as well as of personal advice for me ever since my intruder had left; but he was a friend, just a friend. Dean was probably enthusiastic and vigorous in bed, but he was also annoying, and he gave me the impression of being a bit of a pervert. He clearly liked me, but I found it pretty hard to feel the same way in return.

David would almost certainly be number 2 on my list, if he were so inclined. I was comfortable enough being in physical contact with him that I didn't feel threatened when he touched or embraced me, which was more than I could say for most men. I wondered how the intruder would react if he caught me flirting with another man. A feeling of cold terror gripped my heart as I tried to picture the scale of his anger at seeing an inferior male, or any male at all, try to steal his mate from him. It was probably best not to risk that since I had never really seen him genuinely angry, and would probably regret the experience if I ever did.

As I drifted off to sleep again, I wondered what my rapist was thinking about...





(I always read comments and feedback, and I always take them into account when I write the next instalment. That doesn't mean I'll always follow suggestions that are given to me - Leah's alpha will never be outmatched - but I always appreciate feedback from readers. So please do post a comment with your thoughts below).



Intruder Ch. 1



Malcolm sat quietly at his desk. His thoughts lingered on his new "talent." Always a computer geek, he assumed his true talent was in making programs. His mind could think in binary, a fact that excluded him from the social scenes of high school and college. He grew accustomed to his life, knowing exactly what to expect. Then the headaches came.

At first they were annoying. His skull would throb softly, and he would take a pill. Soon it became apparent that his remedy was not working. He'd gone to doctors, but they offered no answers. The day he actually called in to work was the last day he ever experienced a headache and the day his talent blossomed fully.

He had managed to stumble to his mailbox and was just opening it when he saw Shelly. She lived in his apartment complex, and was single. She never went out. She never had any company. But she did get lots of mail. Normally, they were wrapped in plain coverings and bore a generic label. He suspected that she was ordering sex toys online, and his electronic snooping proved him right.

As soon as he saw her, a blast of pain rocked him. She turned to face him... and he felt his mind reach out and grab hers. Or so he thought. What he saw was... bizarre. He saw everything she did. He could tell when she was going to move towards him. He could feel the impulses demanding her heart to beat. He ran back to his apartment, dazed and confused.

It took him nearly a year to actually come to grips with his power. When he did, he had a reasonable hypothesis. It sounded too sci-fi, but it fit the facts. Unlike a true mind control artist, he could not control anyone's emotions or mental state. All he commanded were their physical action and reactions. Even so, this was a great power, one he tested carefully.

His first test subject had been the secretary of the president at work. He always wanted to know what she wore beneath the very conservative dresses that always draped her body. One day, while she was typing up a report, he slid into her office and simply concentrated on her left hand. He saw the paths the impulses took, and redirected them. Within moments, she was unable to move it. She was shocked; he was happier than he'd ever been. After three months, he knew he could make her do anything. He could even stop her heart. This thought chilled him. He could kill easily and safely.

And he didn't have to see her to do it. He'd become so familiar with the feel of her inner self that he could do so when he slept. He trained himself to control his dreams just in case he happened to dream something... horrible.

His first sexual test was almost an accident. She was typing out yet another report when his thoughts wandered to how she pleased herself sexually. His mind filled with images he readily recognized as physical memories. He smiled. Then he had another thought. He could make her finger herself right there. OR... He entered her inner self and commanded her body to remember.

Her eyes widened with something akin to a blend between fright and lust. Her clit began to stiffen, aroused by the 'finger' that slowly rubbed it up and down.

"Are you OK?" he asked innocently. His mind reached out and forced another memory to surface and become 'real.'

"Uh... sure. It's lunch coming back for a repeat performance," she muttered. Her asshole tingled as something began worming its way inside.

"Oh. OK," he said as he returned to his seat.

He continued, forcing her body to physically remember being masturbated. He watched as she tried to hide her impending orgasm. He locked eyes with her, and gave her a comforting smile.

"Our secret," he muttered. She nodded, then reached beneath her dress. He knew she didn't wear panties from his previous experiments. He opened a magazine and pretended to read, all the while marking down the paths of impulses as she fingered herself to climax. She choked back her moan of sexual pleasure, and he made note of that as well. It would help him later on as she brought other women, and some men, to climax.

The men he experimented on were mostly co-workers involved in relationships. He tended to lean towards bringing them to premature climax, his sense of sick justice too twisted to actually tease a male as he did females. There were a few outstanding cases where he caused a hard dick to go limp, but those were cases of petty revenge.

* * * *

After four years he turned in his two weeks notice. The company threw him a very nice party. He gave each person who attended a gift: one mind shattering orgasm. It was the least he could do; they treated him like a human being. That done, he left for Virginia Tech. Home of the Hokies and his Alma Mater.

During the flight from California he took the time to practice his talent. One flight attendant, a very sultry looking brunette, got his special attention. Her body remembered the touch of her lover very well. Almost too well. He couldn't tell, but he figured her lover was female.

His first intrusion, as he came to call the process, came as she walked by his seat. He reached out and made her 'remember' being licked anally. Yet he did not complete her orgasm. He simply replayed the memory over and over again. The results were immediate; she changed her step every time she passed his seat. One time she actually stopped and asked him if everything was fine. He smiled; HE should ask her the same question. As he answered affirmative, he switched to her cunt, making her 'remember' being filled repeatedly by an invading member. Her eyes glazed over... and she quickly made her way to the bathroom. He kept her in mind, and as she fingered her cunt, he made her body not cum. Cruel, but he wanted to test his power against the strength of human will. As she got frustrated, he cut her off. This means he gave her the afterglow of an orgasm while denying her the actual orgasm.

He tried out his power on many of the passengers. Even an eighty-year old woman sitting three rows back. Since she was alone, he also made the concession of making sure her heart did not burst from the increased sensations her body experienced. This gave him a unique thought; he could also save lives as well as end them. Having a heart attack? Heart stop beating? He could change that. The raw power he possessed gave him pause, and for a moment, everyone slept or ate peacefully.

Which caused him to think. How many could he control? One monster of a headache later he knew his limit: three. The headache faded after he stopped trying, but he knew his limit. For now; with practice that could change. Just before the plane landed, he reached out to the brunette and gave her several small orgasms. Not enough to satisfy her, but more than enough to make her want more. Her lover would definitely wonder about her increased drive that night!!

* * * *

Three years later. He was working for Virginia Tech running their computer maintenance department. He'd intruded on several women, but ceased doing so. Even though he could give pleasure to anyone he chose, he was still, at the age of thirty-eight, a virgin. He was becoming quite depressed. Then he met Angela.

Their relationship began quite unexpectedly. She had just gotten through a messy divorce from an abusive husband and was looking for a fresh start. At forty-two, she could easily pass for someone half her age. Everything about her screamed sensuality. She would come into his office, sit and chat during her lunch breaks. He wondered why, but didn't want to piss God off by asking her. He took his lucky breaks where he could get them.

One afternoon Angela approached him with a peculiar offer. She wanted go cook dinner for two: herself and him. Malcolm agreed. The rest of his day dragged on as he tried to remain calm. Then something strange happened. Maxine, a co-worker he absolutely hated, walked into his cubicle. She didn't say anything; she stood there and glared at Malcolm for several minutes. Suddenly pissed, Malcolm intruded.

He found himself searching for pain. When he found it within Maxine he noticed that quite a few of the paint areas were hard-wired to her pleasure centers. He paused the intrusion to think about this. Causing her pain would turn her on. Then his thoughts turned to another aspect of his discovery. He could turn her into his personal slave by re-working the hard-connections within her body. HE could seduce her, promise her new levels of pain, and the instant the electrons began flowing he would get to work. He knew he could do it.

"What do you want, slut." The barely growled words slid easily from his lips. He felt her anger flow through her body, and diverted every impulse into her pleasure center, hardwiring her hate into her pleasure center.

He watched as Maxine's face flowed from anger to lust to shock. She didn't move. Nor did she reply. Malcolm intruded on her lungs and vocal chords. He knew the answer he wanted to hear. So intent was he on his goal that he did not notice the fierce jab of pain... nor it's brevity.

"I want you to rape me." The fear on her face pleased him, so he let it linger a moment longer than she actually held the emotion.

"On my terms," he hissed. Then he forced her body to walk back to her cubicle. Malcolm didn't know what to expect from this momentary lapse in control, but he knew his time at Virginia Tech was over.

* * * *

Dinner was excellent. Medium-rare Black Angus steaks, baked potato and broccoli covered in a sharp cheddar cheese sauce. And, of course, a dry red wine. Malcolm enjoyed not only the meal, but also the soft tender moment after the last bite slid down his throat. He let his eyes slide across the table, ending their journey locked in Angela's beautiful eyes.

Razor blue. That is how he will always describe her eyes. He knew he could find true love within her arms... and those razor blue eyes. He also knew that his gift would prevent him from ever trusting her fully. A flash of his confrontation with Maxine burned that point home. Just as sadness threatened to ruin his mood he saw her rise from her seat. He followed her with his eyes, knowing instinctively where she was going. The black dress flowed gently behind her as it caressed her body. He felt his cock stiffen. His mouth went dry, and he reached for the bottle of wine.

She pulled the spaghetti straps away from her shoulders. Two shoulder swivels and the dress slithered off of her body. Malcolm licked his lips and groaned softly. His hands trembled. He could feel his nostrils flare. He wanted her. No... he DESIRED her. The feeling had to be experienced; no words could hope to describe what he felt. That is when he intruded into Angela's body.

It felt different. Compared to his previous attempts at intrusion, this was natural. Right. Hell... he wasn't really trying to see or control her... it was as if he WAS Angela. And she was Malcolm. His conscious mind was just an observer. He saw his arms move as his fingers tried to remove the tie and shirt simultaneously. He felt Angela's hands as they snatched the belt off of his pants, then fumble with the zipper. He could feel her anxiety twist with the lust within her. He knew that same moment existed within his own body.

He mentally chuckled as he felt the fear of knowing what his dick felt like. He knew it would hurt, aching with the raw passion it longed to know between the soft cunt lips and warm, tender cunt flesh. He knew Angela's cunt drooled like some starving beast from the darkest nightmare from the most twisted mind. Yet he could appreciate its artistry. He watched as his arm tipped the bottle of wine, covering her heaving breasts with wine. As his head merged with her breast, slathering one wine-drenched nipple with his tongue, he wondered what the flavor would taste like.

Warmth and comfort. He smiled as he felt her nipple tingle as his tongue wiggled over it. Then Angela had the bottle. Could she? The wine felt refreshing as it cascaded over his body. Her pleasure pathways were reaching critical. They were passing signals as fast as physically possible. They were reaching sensory capacity. Malcolm didn't think about his next action... or the consequences. He jury-rigged a connection between himself and Angela.

* * * *

The tech-specs for this are very simple. When applied to the human form, it is amazing to even consider. Angela and Malcolm would be connected together, wired through their sensory neurons. The sweat would transmit the impulses so long as they touched. They would both feel the full force of lust driven pleasure... times two. The risk of burning out one or the other was real. Very real.

She wrapped her lips around his dick and sucked gently, flicking her tongue over the tip. She felt the heat from his dick, the cool wetness of her tongue on his dick, the surge of pleasure as her clit tingled in anticipation, the powerful heave as his balls sent a massive dose of testosterone into his blood, the thundering as his blood engorged penis filled to just beneath bursting, and every other minor sensation either experienced at that moment. It was a humbling experience.

He grabbed her beneath her shoulders and almost threw her on the table, hanging her head off the edge. The hunger swelled within him, banishing the last lingering thread of fear. He dragged his tongue down her crotch. It slithered over her clit, trying to pull it along. He felt her inhale his cock, swallowing his entire eight-and-three-quarter-inch long-two-and-seven-eighths-inch thick African American manhood. It nearly choked him to feel a cock that big in her throat.

He was going to cum. Never before had he been so aware of his own impending orgasm. He was able to freeze that moment and examine it. His orgasm was indeed powerful. He doubted he would be awake when it was over and done with. Yet it could be even MORE powerful if he were to wait until he was fully inside her... and she was cumming at the same time. A simple thought, but the power behind it was seductive. He would know the feel of that power. Angela agreed, and he delayed his own impending peak. She was also close, so they stopped by her own growing orgasm and slowed its growth. A thought and both seeds of bliss were linked.

He rose up and helped Angela turn around. Once ready, he grabbed his cock, nearly doubling over with pleasure/pain as he did. Angela shared in the sensation; her hands dug deeply into the white-hot flesh of her bare breasts. He walked his cock closer and closer to its first contact with a cunt. Angela's cunt. THEIR cunt. Soon they would truly be one. Then was inside his first cunt.

* * * *

Malcolm groaned long and deep. The sheer pleasure of sliding into his first cunt blinded him temporarily. He heard her moan of ecstasy as she accepted his member. It was longer and thicker than all previous cocks blessed with the knowledge of her depths. Angela rolled her hips, savoring the raw hardness within her. One hand wrapped around his neck, pulling Malcolm closer to her. He felt her cunt stretch to accommodate its new visitor. He left his pulse thunder through the walls of her cunt. Through the power of every sensation they felt, he found his voice.

"Guess I'm not a virgin anymore." He chuckled the words. Angela's soft laughter brought a smile to his lips. She knew!! HE marveled at the powers within all women. She knew he was a virgin, yet did not let that sway her view of him. He loved her. She loved him. This... their union... was right.

Slowly he filled her with his manhood. Drool snaked down the corner of his mouth as her felt her cunt ripple around his member. Angela moaned her pleasure, totally oblivious to anything other than the reality of a virgin within her cunt. He would leave his first seed within a woman... inside her walls of bliss. She grabbed his flexing ass and spurred him on. Harder and harder. Faster. Malcolm swung his hips this way and that, churning her nectar into frothing foam.

Both were lost in their own... and each other's... rise to sexual completion. In that instant, they found themselves viewing their linked orgasms. The smiled as they let the seeds explode, then froze that instant, burning it into their memories. Together, the returned to their bodies and experienced the sensations as they came together.

Malcolm was moving at a blinding pace, literally fucking her with everything he could muster, beg, borrow or steal. Sweat flew from his form as his belly and lions slapped into Angela's flesh. When he came... THEY came... it was as if the entire universe had exploded, scattering everything into some nameless void. The heat was so intense it froze him to the core, only to turn those same frozen crystals into so much vapor. He was sure he bellowed like a primal beast even though he did not... COULD NOT... hear it. Yet still he continued to thrust, fucking Angela with all of the love he ever felt for anyone or anything.

Angela knew she was experiencing her first real orgasm. Even her cums while masturbating were nothing compared to this moment. She felt her cunt grab Malcolm's dick as it were a lifeline thrown to a drowning soul. Even so, he was still pounding her cunt with strength only known by those in true love. She tried to fuck back, but she could not tell how effective her movements were. If she could, she would have seen and felt her hips slam mercilessly into Malcolm's body... with more strength than she ever thought possible. She was living a dream: her white body being fucked... WELL FUCKED... by a black man with more dick than any of her white lovers. She vibrated through realities, experiencing the same mind numbing orgasm that currently occupied her entire being.

Then... silence.

* * * *

Morning. Malcolm knew he had passed out. Yet he was still linked to Angela. He ceased intrusion within her soul, but the wave of longing quickly overcame him. Something was wrong. He would have to discover what. And soon; he still had to deal with Maxine. There was much that needed to be done.

He doubted he could do it alone. His eyes fell on Angela, and he felt himself desire that special touch.

To Be Continued.



Intruder Ch. 10



"""Hi everyone. Sorry to have kept you all waiting for chapter 10, but university students don't have much time for side-projects. Since it's been a while, you should probably reread chapter 9 before reading chapter 10.

As always, I will read all comments and suggestions, and take all the constructive ones into account for any future chapters.

Enjoy!""" 

*

Once again, I woke up before dawn thanks to my pregnancy-skewed biological clock; but it was a pleasant transition into the waking world cuddled in my rapist's powerful embrace, and at least the medication was keeping my otherwise horrible morning sickness at bay. His cock was still inside me from the previous night, and I wouldn't be surprised if he'd had me in my sleep. I wouldn't mind if he had. I was his, I felt like I was his. I wanted to belong to him and to carry his child. In spite of the fact that he was a rapist and in spite of how he had come into my life, in that moment I wanted nothing more than to be his woman.

Eventually, though, I had to get up for work. I carefully extricated myself from his embrace and gently withdrew his cock from me. His cum came dripping out of my snatch, proof that he had had some pleasure with my body after I had gone back to sleep. I smiled a little, pleased that he'd enjoyed himself and had also had the courtesy not to wake me up for multiple quickies. Leaving him asleep in the bed, I departed for the bathroom.

I turned on the shower and stepped into the cubicle, closing my eyes and letting the cool water flow down my skin. I caressed my belly thoughtfully as I showered; there was a small but definite bump visible, and I wondered when the baby was going to start kicking. David would probably know. I smiled contentedly as I washed my skin; being full of life felt wonderful, and I hoped my intruder would stick around to share it with me.

The shower curtain was swept aside, startling me as I tried instinctively to cover my modesty. My baby's father had no such reservations and stepped into the cubicle with me as naked as the day he was born.

"How is the mother of my child today?" he asked with a smile.

"Get out, you pervert!" I retorted indignantly.

"Why? Are you afraid I'll take advantage of you?" he asked rhetorically, taking a tender grasp of my pregnant belly.

"I suppose it's a little late to worry about that."

We washed together and made small talk whilst admiring each others' bodies. It was immensely comforting, even arousing, to be in the presence of the man who'd impregnated me; there was no other man I could ever be comfortable being naked in front of. Although, perhaps that was because I'd grown used to the fact that my modesty wasn't something he worried about. Once the scrubbing was done, however, my rapist inevitably began to crave what all men wanted.

"How about a quick shower romp?" he suggested with an atypical lack of subtlety, reaching a hand down to my groin.

"Men and their urges," I said with a roll of my eyes.

"Utterly insatiable," he replied.

He rubbed my pussy with practiced skill, causing my eyes to roll back as the pleasure wafted up from my crotch, and made my thighs spread reflexively. With the water still flowing down our bodies, I reached out and took a hold of his muscular arms and body, holding on for support as he pleasured my pussy. His enormous hard-on poked at my groin like a cyclopean serpent, dribbling precum from the opening, eager to gain entrance. I wrapped my arms around my rapist's neck and spread my thighs wider to allow him inside; and he entered me once again. A sharp moan left my mouth as he filled me and began to thrust.

Mindful of my belly and the lack of space, my rapist's strokes were restrained in their force, slipping and sliding into my passageway. The sensuality of the encounter was incredible; he was so powerful and yet so gentle in using me to satisfy his urges. I savoured the touch of his skin rubbing gently against mine just as I knew he revelled in the feeling of my wet pussy engulfing his thrusting manhood. His strokes grew more insistent as our mutual pleasure built; he expertly rubbed his pubic bone against my clit with each thrust, causing an orgasm to bloom in my groin and the base of my belly until I squealed breathlessly in climax.

Having brought me to my peak, my rapist's strokes increased in speed once again, creating a watery slapping sound as the shower water ran down our skin and over our connected groins. He tightened his grasp on me, drawing me in closer to his body as he fucked me, and I tightened my embrace of his muscular torso, immersing myself in his masculine presence as his own climax neared.

I could feel his approaching orgasm in the urgency of his thrusting and I could hear it in his laboured breathing. I held on tight as his thrusts increased to an alpha male frenzy in spite of the tight quarters in which we were mating. Then he let out a powerful grunt and thrust home. I let my head roll back as I felt his cock twitch inside me before spurting his potent seed into my already pregnant snatch, and that familiar chill of sensuous pleasure slithered up my spine as he inseminated me once again. It was amazing how much he had in reserve in those massive balls of his; I almost felt guilty hogging it all for my own pussy...almost.

He held me in his powerful arms for a good few minutes before I gently reminded him that I had a job to get to. Slowly, he pulled out, letting his seed drip out of me, and we finished washing together before going to get dressed. I put on casual pants and a t-shirt, knowing I could change into scrubs once I got to the hospital. My intruder made breakfast for both of us and we made small talk as we ate, before I had to go.

"I'll be around." He said, as he cleared our plates.

"What, in the apartment all day?" I asked.

"No, I mean in the hospital," he clarified. That struck a discordant mental note for me.

"And, why do you need to come to the hospital with me?" I asked suspiciously.

"To keep an eye on you, of course."

"Well, I'm touched that you're so concerned about my wellbeing all of a sudden," I replied with a slightly hostile note of sarcasm, "but I've been doing just fine these past few months without you prowling around in the shadows watching me."

"Fine with whom, I wonder." My intruder said rather darkly.

"What or who are you talking about?" I demanded, starting to get annoyed.

"Your work colleagues Dean Kaczynski and Dr David Hatfield, that's who." he growled.

"What about them?" I demanded.

"I saw the way Kaczynski was looking at you yesterday evening." he replied, his tone tinged with masculine jealousy.

"You mean after you raped me?"

"I also couldn't help noticing how friendly you were with 'David'."

"Ok, firstly, Dean is a conceited pervert, so you needn't get so jealous about him," I retorted, starting to lose my temper, "secondly, David has been my best friend and my only source of emotional support in the months you were gone; and thirdly, who the fuck do you think you are accusing me of being unfaithful to you after raping me and then leaving me with a pregnant belly to go screw women on the other side of the country?"

"I wasn't accusing you of doing any such thing." He defended himself.

"But you were implying it," I snapped, pressing my attack, "feel free to stick around the apartment if you want, but I don't want you following me around like I'm your bitch on a leash. You can't tell me who I can and can't be friends with, and you can't micromanage my life, you fucking hypocritical rapist!"

My rapist said nothing in response; he just stood there seething with anger. I should have been terrified that he might explode and hurt me, but I felt too angry and indignant to back down. Even so, I decided it was probably better to leave the argument at that, so I got my coat and went to the front door.

"Oh, one more thing," I called from the front hall, "at least I know David's name!" with that parting shot, I abruptly left the apartment.

***

I was bristling with indignation as I walked down the corridor to the elevator. Who did he think he was, telling me he was going to follow me around my place of work? It was one thing for him to be concerned about my safety, but it was unnecessarily intrusive of him to let me know that I would be under surveillance just in case I had conversations with men other than him. Were we in America or Saudi Arabia?!

As my pregnancy-induced mood swing dissipated, I had to stifle a laugh at the idea that his surveillance of me was 'intrusive'. The man was a rapist, the vilest kind of intruder imaginable, and yet I was more angry about being snooped on by my quasi-boyfriend than the fact that he'd impregnated me against my will. But worry also began to hold in my mind; had I been a little too strident in snapping at him?

Of course not, I decided resolutely. Just because he'd usurped my right to give or withhold sexual consent, it didn't mean he could control every aspect of my life. Even so, the worry continued to nag me from the back of my mind. Had I overdone it when I'd argued with him? How angry had he been when I'd left the apartment? Would he try to punish me later for talking back to him?

This time, the emotional corollary to these questions was genuine fear. Statistically speaking, everyone had met at least one woman who'd been in an abusive relationship at some point in her life. For all the progress made by women in the past hundred years, fragile male egos coupled with masculine brute strength were still a dangerous combination. My rapist had ample reserves of the latter; I could do nothing about the former except hope that I hadn't tested it beyond its limits.

As I summoned the elevator, a familiar tap on the shoulder instantly brightened my day.

"How are you today, sweetheart?" asked David with a pearly-white smile, his diamond ear stud twinkling in the light.

"I'm alright." I assured him, semi-truthfully.

"You don't sound totally alright to me." He pressed with a concerned look.

"Really, David," I answered evasively, "I'm fine."

"To tell you the truth," David admitted, "I just overheard you arguing with someone on my way past your apartment."

"You heard that?" I asked, surprised.

"I was going to knock on your door and walk you to the elevator when I heard you shouting at someone," David explained, "I also heard my name mentioned."

A ping announced the arrival of the elevator, and the two of us stepped inside, heading for the ground floor.

"Baby-daddy found time to come back and see me and got jealous of the fact that I'm friends with other guys, including you."

I hadn't told anyone, not even David, the truth about how I had ended up pregnant. Instead I had crafted the story that 'baby-daddy' had been on a business trip in the city and had seduced me into a one night stand before flying home, leaving me with pleasant memories and an expanding stomach. It was at least partially true.

"He wouldn't be the handsome young man I saw you walking home with last night, would he?" David asked.

"The very one," I confirmed, "it's unbelievable; he leaves me here to go and do his work, and when he comes back he tries to dictate to me who I can and can't see!" That version wasn't totally accurate, of course, but it conveyed my feelings well enough.

"I think he just missed you." David offered.

"I hope so." I replied.

As the elevator descended, I felt a wet trickle start to seep out of my pussy and into my underwear. It was my intruder's cum from our most recent coupling, and it was a rather unsettling reminder of who had most of the power in our relationship.

***

The morning in the hospital was uneventful, just the usual medical errands that needed running, not even a heart attack to liven things up. That was a horrible thing to think, but all day I was rather preoccupied with my earlier argument with my nameless intruder.

A big part of the problem was that he wouldn't tell me who he really was. He was keeping me at arm's length with fake names whilst ensuring I stayed under his control. A bit of mystery could be hot and romantic, but an actual first name was far too basic to skip over. It was a bit too late for him to worry that I might turn him in; and even if I did, he had enough skills and resources to just disappear if he wanted to whether I reported him or not. After what he'd put me through, at the very least he owed me a little trust. In fact, he especially owed me some trust as I had little logical reason to trust him. I was a woman, and he was a rapist. From my position, he wasn't so much an alpha male as an alpha predator to be avoided all costs by his female prey. Of course, I had long since become sexually subordinate to him, but in return for having his baby, the least he could do was treat me like an independent human-being.

I spent all morning in this half-resentful, half-worried state of mind before taking a break for lunch. I ate lunch with David as usual, who never failed to cheer me up. He was funny and kind, and full of useful information about what do to as my belly got bigger. It did occur to me that my intruder was probably watching us from the shadows, so I made an extra show of enjoying David's company. He was a damned good friend to me, and my rapist had no right to stop me from having friends.

Eventually, I had to return to work, and I went down to yet another ward in the vast hospital to do the rounds there. All the rooms had two beds separated by a curtain for a partition; soon enough, my rapist revealed himself from behind one of them.

The nagging sense of paranoia in my mind, coupled with memories of previous ambushes, softened the shock at seeing him emerge from behind a curtain and clamp a hand over my mouth as I was changing a sleeping patient's IV drip. I struggled indignantly, not at all in the mood for surprise sex, but instead of getting down to business he pulled me behind the curtain and closed it again, pinning me against the empty bed on the other side.

"I just want to talk to you." My rapist whispered, removing his hand from my mouth but keeping a firm hold of my hips and waist.

"That's a new development," I hissed sarcastically, "here I was thinking you needed to relieve your urges."

"I'm serious, Leah," he replied, "I don't like that we fought earlier, and I wanted to see how you're doing."

"Well aside from being attacked by a rapist, I'm doing just fine, thanks." I answered, "I also had a very nice conversation about you with David, who is, and will remain, my best friend, whether you like it or not. But you probably already knew that, didn't you?"

I was still angry about my quasi-boyfriend's intrusion into my private life, and was deliberately barbing him, a fact he clearly noticed.

"As long as he's just a friend, I don't mind." was his surprisingly calm response.

Since he claimed to be so calm about, and because I was still annoyed with him, I decided on the spur of the moment to test him.

"Well, he would be my number 2." I mentioned with a casual, saccharine voice.

"Your what?" my rapist asked, his voice and face hardening suddenly.

"If you were to leave me alone again, or piss me off again like you did this morning, David would be my number 2 option."

That really got his blood boiling; he gripped my hips possessively and forced his groin in between my legs, his beautiful green eyes seething with masculine jealousy. His sudden, aggressive change sent a spike of fear through my heart. It probably wasn't wise for a woman to antagonise a man who was twice as strong as her.

"No one is going to lay their hands on you, except for me." He growled.

My heart was racing with fear at this point. Perversely, his aggressive, possessive behaviour was also making me seriously wet. He was still a prime example of an alpha male, and his basest urges were on full display. Even so, would he hurt the mother of his child in the heat of his anger? I seriously hoped not, but I quietly slipped my hand into my pocket and nervously gripped my taser just in case.

"If you're going to 'punish' me again, you'd better hurry up," I said defiantly, fearful of his boiling potential for violence and the knowledge that I was playing a very dangerous power-game with him, "someone will be around soon, wondering why I'm taking so long to swap out an IV drip." With my heart pounding in my chest, I leaned in close and whispered in his ear, "and being caught red-handed raping a healthcare worker can't be good for your freedom."

I gazed into his eyes, terrified by the seething anger I saw in them, and uneasily awaiting his response to my gutsy ultimatum. At long last, his grip relaxed and the tense standoff ended.

"Get out." He ordered, letting me go. A huge wave of relief washed over me and I decided to do as he said rather than push my luck any further.

***

As I finished my round of the ward, I couldn't help feeling somewhat proud of myself for standing up to my rapist. Even though he retained most of the power in our relationship -- assuming that was the right word to use -- I'd managed to goad him by pretending to be interested in other guys, and still get him to back off from fucking me. I might have to pay for it tonight, but it felt good to face him down.

That being said, I hadn't done it purely to spite him. In all the time I'd been with him, I had genuinely fallen for him, which made the fact that he wouldn't tell me his name that much harder to bear. I wanted him to stick around and be a father to our baby; maybe if I poked and prodded him in the right places, he would stay. But my smugness at having bested him was also tinged with a little fear. As with our argument that morning, I hoped I hadn't overdone it by implying I was interested in David.

"Someone looks happy today." said another male colleague of mine by way of greeting.

Dean joined me to help with the last few rooms in the ward, making small talk along the way. In spite of his reputation as a pervert and a womaniser, I found myself genuinely enjoying his company. He seemed particularly friendly to me today, dropping a few flirtatious remarks here and there; I even found myself flirting back, the better to annoy my rapist/lover if he happened to be watching.

"There's one last patient at the end of the hallway," said Dean, pointing to the furthest door, "then we're done with this ward."

I nodded and went straight to the end door, preparing to check the last patient only to find there was nobody in the room. I turned around to see Dean enter the room after me, locking the door behind him.

"There's no one else in the ward," he assured me, straightening his messy hair out, "so we have some time to ourselves."

"Time for what?" I asked Dean, feeling confused and uneasy about this turn of events.

"You're smoking hot, Leah," Dean said, walking towards me as I inched away, "and I've had my eye on you for a while. Now, I want to do something about it."

"Dean, I'm flattered," I replied with a nervous smile, "but I don't feel that way about you."

"Then why were you flirting with me earlier?" he asked, unconsciously flexing his muscles as he approached me. The glint in Dean's eye was different this time, and it set my feminine, survival instincts abuzz, warning me to escape.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Dean." I answered evasively.

"Of course you do, Leah," replied Dean, finally getting me up against one of the beds, "I've been dropping hints for weeks now, and so have you; and I'm not content to stand around and watch you strut by me every day with those sexy legs of yours without getting a taste of what's between them."

"Dean, that's enough," I protested, trying to manoeuvre out from behind him, "we should get back to work before somebody notices we're gone."




Intruder Ch. 10



But Dean was having none of it. He pinned my arms in place, making my heart jump with fear, and setting off major alarm bells in my head.

"Before who notices us?" Dean asked with a look of jealousy, "your buddy 'Greg'?"

"Get off me, Dean!" I snapped, struggling to be free of him.

As I struggled with him, Dean grabbed my head and planted his lips on mine. I squirmed in disgust and slapped him hard across the face. He stood there smarting for a few moments, and I stood there too frozen with terror to run for the door.

"Little bitch is playing hard to get, I see." Dean hissed, his face darkening with anger.

I recoiled in terror as Dean advanced on me again, wrapping a hand around my throat pushing back against the bed again.

"You don't get to dangle such juicy fruit in front of me and then whisk it away when I try to have a taste, baby," he growled menacingly, "sooner or later, a man has to have the balls to take what he wants. And right now, I want you."

Those words terrified me; even more so when Dean reached his free hand under my shirt and placed his palm on my belly. I froze over completely when he did that.

"You've put on a bit of weight, I see." Dean noted with a sneer. Then his sneer turned to puzzlement as he ran his hand up and down my nascent baby bump.

"Are you pregnant?" he asked. I nodded fearfully, too afraid to open my mouth to speak. Dean's look of puzzlement turned into an incredulous laugh.

"Unfuckingbelievable," he exclaimed in a strange mix of amusement and disappointment, "I should have known the hot ones were the sluttiest."

I was mortally terrified now. Terrified of being forced upon by this pervert; terrified of what my rapist/lover would think if he saw Dean in this position with me; terrified, above all, that Dean might hurt the baby.

"Well, in that case, I guess 'Greg', or whatever his name is, won't mind if I help myself to a free sample," said Dean, fiddling with the zipper of his pants, "seeing as he beat me to the finishing line."

I tried to renew my struggles in a last ditch effort to prevent Dean from forcing himself on me, but he cut off my resistance with a gentle squeeze on my throat and by keeping his palm placed firmly on belly.

"Now there'll be none of that, Leah," Dean admonished me in a sickeningly gentle tone, "after all, we don't want the baby to get hurt."

That crossed a line.

I reached into my pocket, pulled out my taser, and jabbed it into Dean's neck. His eyes bulged in shock -- pardon the pun -- and he staggered backwards, enough for me to lean back and kick him full in the chest with all the strength I could manage. He went sailing backwards and hit the back of his head against the edge of a storage cabinet with a loud clang of bone against metal. I didn't stick around to see if he was unconscious or not, I dropped the taser and bolted for the door, unlocking the latch and scampering down the hallway, screaming for help.

Another door opened, and my rapist emerged in response to my cries. I ran straight into his arms and hugged him, craving the safety of his embrace.

"What happened?" he asked earnestly.

"It was Dean," I wept, so glad to be safe again, "he tried to rape me, but I tasered him and knocked him out."

The latter part turned out not to be totally accurate as the far door from which I had fled opened and Dean came stumbling out. He looked delirious and livid, the taser and the knock to the head having taking a serious toll on his critical faculties.

"You sneaky little whore!" he snarled, shambling forward like a resurrected zombie, "I'm gonna fucking kill you!"

My alpha male guardian released me from his embrace and advanced towards Dean. I caught a murderous glint in his eye as he walked past me. I watched as Dean drunkenly swung his fist at my intruder, who swiftly sidestepped the punch and judo flipped Dean over his shoulder. Still holding onto Dean's wrist as he hit the ground, my rapist planted his foot on Dean's elbow and viciously broke his arm. Dean yowled in agony and passed out then and there, whilst I winced and curled up against the wall at the sickeningly audible crack of bone. My rapist finished with a brutal punch to the side of Dean's head. I was busy rocking back and forth with my face buried in my hands when my rapist came back over to comfort me.

"It's ok," he assured me, his upper class British elocution like balm to my trauma, "no one is going to hurt you. Not me and especially not him."

I allowed him to pull me to my feet and lead me to the staff common room where I could lie down. He got me a drink of water and I sipped a little, calming my nerves somewhat.

"Is the baby alright?" he asked earnestly.

"Yes," I assured him, hugging my belly protectively.

"Good, I can't stand the thought of losing either one of you."

***

Dean was admitted to the critical care ward and kept under police guard since he couldn't be formally arrested until he was discharged. Meanwhile, the cops took statements from my rapist/lover and I after which we were both allowed to go home early. My intruder was ostensibly also an employee at the hospital, and so he passed by unnoticed.

We walked back to my apartment in complete silence, with me nervously holding onto his arm as we made the ten minute walk home. My intruder was stern and protective, elbowing strangers aside to clear a path whilst I struggled with the turmoil of my attempted rape by a co-worker. He hadn't been anything more than a friendly acquaintance, but we had been working together ever since I first got a job at the hospital, how could he suddenly turn on me like this? Had he forced himself on other women prior to me?

Similar questions from the morning after losing my virginity to rape were now resurfacing in my mind, and I couldn't stay blind to the perverse irony of being protected from a man who'd attempted to rape me by the man who'd actually succeeded. What exactly was the difference between Dean and my actual rapist? That the latter had gotten to me first? Was I nothing more than a tender fuck-hole to be bred and defended by an alpha brute against beta brutes like Dean? Justifiably or not, I started to feel like a juicy piece of meat being escorted home for supper at a latter date.

However, my inner turmoil was worsened by the fact that I couldn't reconcile my cynicism regarding my rapist's possible motives with the fact that he had saved my life, and that of my baby, our baby. In spite of my trauma, I felt genuinely safe in his presence, and I had genuine feelings for him. For the first time, I admitted to myself that I was in love with my rapist. The catch was I didn't know if he really loved me back. Had he been motivated to protect me by a reciprocal love for me, or did he see me as nothing more than a vessel for his progeny? What was his name? I needed answers to all these questions before I could fully trust him.

***

We arrived back at the apartment in the middle of the afternoon. My intruder told me to lie down and get some rest, but I insisted that he first set all the locks on the front door and all the windows before I did anything to relax. When he assured me that the apartment was now completely impregnable -- unlike me -- I agreed to lie down on the bed while he went to the kitchen to make me some tea.

As I lay on my side tenderly stroking my belly, I couldn't help but wonder why he was being so nice to me all of a sudden. Back in the early days he hadn't hesitated to berate or nipple-twist me if I answered back to him; now he was suddenly so caring. Even though the answer was obviously that he was taking care of his unborn child, I couldn't shake the feeling of cynicism over how important I really was to him. After all, he'd left me to start a whole new brood in another state, and would probably leave when he was bored of me to find another fertile young woman to prey upon.

Eventually, the initial shock of the events of earlier in the day had dissipated enough that I could start to think more clearly. I was afraid of being raped, but I was also afraid that my rapist would leave me now that his work with me was finished. If Dean had succeeded, would my intruder have been as caring and sensitive to me as he had been today? Or would he have abandoned me like the damaged goods I had almost become? It was a big what if, and I couldn't drive it from my mind.

Finally, my rapist returned with a cup of tea in hand, and I sat up on the bed and took a few sips. The tea was warm and minty and it calmed my nerves a lot. I put the tea on the bedside table with a weak but grateful smile.

"How are you feeling?" my rapist asked me tenderly.

"Safer, now that you're here." I answered, turning over on my side.

He shut the curtains, kicked off his shoes, and climbed onto the bed behind me, spooning me in his arms. I snuggled into his embrace, doing my best to lose myself in the security of his presence; but I still couldn't banish the obvious parallels between my would-be rapist and my actual rapist. I felt safe in my rapist's arms, but I didn't know whether I should.

"Please don't fuck me tonight," I requested humbly, worried that he might refuse.

"Sure," he agreed, "you need to rest anyway."

Calmed by that reply, I drifted off to sleep.

***

Leah slept soundly for hours whilst I dutifully held her in my arms; but inside, I was seething. The fact that 'Dean Kaczynski' had had the nerve to lay his filthy hands on her -- on MY woman, the mother of MY unborn child -- filled me with murderous rage. I'd been far too lenient in snapping his arm and knocking him out, I wanted to kill him.

I was also angry at Leah. She'd spent all morning being overly friendly with this Dr Hatfield, and actually flirting with Dean; no wonder Dean attacked her, he must have thought she wanted it. The little whore had been asking to be attacked.

Of course I knew that wasn't true and I was fully conscious of the hypocrisy of my thoughts. I had raped Leah because I was turned on by the sight of her, not because I thought she'd invited me to attack her. I was also aware of the fact that she had had the moral high ground in our argument earlier that morning. I had left her with a pregnant belly and made her seek emotional solace with her friend David, and now I had returned and felt jealous that she was getting close to another man.

As for Dean, he must have been attracted to her all this time, only now finally deciding to act on his desires. I couldn't bear thinking what might have happened if Dean had attacked Leah BEFORE I arrived back from California. At best, David would have been the one to save her instead of me, at worst...

I shook my head clear of such thoughts. I didn't want to contemplate what might have happened to make things worse, I didn't want to think about the uncomfortable lack of difference between what I had done and what Dean had tried to do to Leah, and I certainly didn't want to contemplate a scenario in which Leah or our child got hurt. But I couldn't stop thinking about the man who'd tried to lay his hands on them. My murderous thoughts began to coalesce into a plan.

Leah stirred in my arms, still sound asleep. I didn't want to leave her alone, but I also couldn't stand the idea of Dean still drawing breath after what he'd tried to do to her. God knew when he'd wake up from his coma, but I knew that I didn't want him waking up at all.

Eventually, I released Leah from my grasp and got up, packing a small bag of kit.

***

When I woke up it was already 10 at night. I still felt somewhat shaken from the events of earlier in the day, but on the whole I was calmer. I rolled over to wrap my arm around my guardian, but my arm passed through empty air and came to rest on the bed. He wasn't there.

I panicked and bolted out of the bed, switching on the light and searching for him high and low. He wasn't in the bathroom or the kitchen; he wasn't anywhere to be found in the apartment. He was gone.

I suppressed the sense of panic that surged in my chest and managed to calm myself enough to notice that his big bag of possessions was still by the bed, with a giant, industrial padlock securing its contents; so wherever he'd gone, he was planning on coming back. But why would he take off in the middle of the night after what I'd just been through? Never mind. I was hungry, and he'd be back for his bag sooner or later. He could explain himself then.

I changed into a dress, and then went to the kitchen and devoured several sandwiches. I was at least partly calmed by the knowledge that I was at least safe in my own apartment, maybe not from my rapist, but certainly from anything else that might try to enter. David would be back from his shift soon, hopefully he'd come see how I was doing. He wasn't the equal of the other man in my life, not by a mile. But as much as I had grown to love my rapist, I resented him almost as much for leaving me once his seed had been planted. David was much better at being there when I needed someone to confide in or console me; too bad I wasn't his type.

Once I was full, I went back to my bedroom and watched some TV; but the headline story on the news of a sexual assault at the city hospital dissuaded me from watching any more. My head was a seething cauldron of trauma, worry, resentment, but most of all boredom. What the fuck could he be doing this late at night that was so important he had to leave unannounced? Maybe he was planning his next rape-trip, I thought gloomily.

The focus of my curiosity shifted to his giant bag. It seemed rather silly to put a padlock on a bag when someone could just cut through it. I knelt down and tugged experimentally on the fabric. It was far too heavy for me to lift, and the material felt like a net of criss-crossing cables, probably impervious to a knife. Whatever it was my rapist-lover had sealed away inside the bag, I wouldn't be getting a peek.

The doorbell rang. I rolled my eyes and got up to answer the door. With all the sophisticated gear he carried around with him, you'd think he'd remember to bring his own keys. Looking through the peephole, however, my irritation evaporated into elation as I undid all the locks and opened the door.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" asked David with a smile.

"No," I replied, returning the smile, "I just finished making dinner for myself."

"I won't keep you too long. I just wanted to see if you were OK."

"I'm alright," I answered, half-lying to my best friend, "a bit shaken, but I'll live."

"I'd never have thought Dean would do such a thing," said David, sounding genuinely appalled, "especially to a nice girl like you."

"I guess you never really know a person until something like that happens."

"But you and the baby are both OK, right?"

"We're both fine," I said, resting my hands on my belly protectively, "Dean threatened the baby if I kept struggling, and that's when I tasered him."

"Damn right." David said with great approval, "he's under police guard in the critical care wing, so you don't have to worry about him."

"Thank you so much." I said softly to David.

"For what?" asked David, puzzled, "I was on a different floor when you needed my help."

"For being such a good friend to me," I embraced David, who tenderly reciprocated.

Bad timing.

"You're looking better." said a familiar masculine voice in a perfect American accent.

Neither I nor David heard my rapist-lover approach, and his sudden appearance caught us both by surprise. I hurriedly broke off the hug. His composure was nearly perfect, carrying a bag of groceries in one hand and holding a small backpack slung over his shoulder with the other.

"This is my friend David who I was telling you about," I explained quickly, trying not to sound like I'd done something wrong, which of course I hadn't.

"Nice to meet you." said David, proffering his hand with genuine amiability.

"Likewise," replied my rapist, accepting the handshake, "Leah's told me a lot about you."

"She hasn't told me very much about you, I have to admit." replied David.

I tried my utmost not to roll my eyes at my rapist, who was squeezing David's hand harder than necessary and was squaring his shoulders in an alpha male display of intimidation. If David was intimidated he didn't show it. It wasn't as if he was competing for me, anyway.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, David," said my rapist, politely breaking off the handshake and the conversation.

"Likewise." answered David, rubbing his hand, "I'll see you next week then, Leah."

"Sure, goodnight."

***

My rapist dropped his backpack on the floor and put away the food he'd bought without saying a word as I waited patiently in my bedroom for him to return and explain what else he'd been doing besides shopping for food in the middle of the night. Soon enough, he came marching back in, his composure gone.

"I leave you alone for two hours, and you're already cuddling with that beta-prick, David." He said in his normal British accent, audibly tinged with jealous anger.

"You were gone for two months, and I went to him for emotional support, you hypocritical rapist!" I snapped in return, "he gave me a shoulder to lean on and cry on when I felt abandoned, by YOU! And all you gave me was a pregnant belly and a wire transfer!"

"I don't want him anywhere near you." said my rapist, his fists clenching in anger as he adroitly sidestepped the moral high ground that he could never hope to seize.

"Why not?" I shot back, angrily, "He's not going to force himself on me like some mindless, macho beast; unlike you or Dean. I feel safe when he's around, as well as cared for. Whereas I'm just a fuck-hole to you, a walking incubation tank for your babies. You don't care about me, you never did! It's all about spreading your alpha male seed all over the place --"

"Stop it, Leah!" my rapist surged forward and seized my wrists as I tried to push him away, cutting me off in mid-rant, "I do care about you, both of you. I thought about you and the baby all the time I was away."

"Let go of me!" I hissed, struggling to free my wrists from the bear-like grip of his hands.

"No one is going to hurt you, Leah," my rapist continued, keeping me restrained with little effort on his part, "I'll be here for you to make damn sure of that."

"I said let go of me, you fucking brute!" somehow I managed to whip one hand free of his grip and, on the spur of the moment, I punched him straight in the mouth.

Time froze as the two of us processed exactly what had just happened. I had actually hit my rapist; not very hard, but I had hit him nonetheless. He stood there frozen with fury. I stood before him, frozen with horror at my impulsive action.

"I...I'm sorry." I stammered penitently.

There was no answer. Instead, he advanced towards me with a calm purpose that terrified me far more than actual violence on his part would have done. I backed away from him until my back was against the wall, and he trapped me there with his enormous chest and muscular arms, looking down at me with his beautiful green eyes brimming with anger. My heart was pounding in my chest as I fearfully awaited his next move. Dean was no weakling, but my rapist had flipped him over his shoulder like a doll and snapped his arm in two with barely any effort; I was in no position to resist him. But unlike the cold fear I had felt when Dean had cornered me, my rapist exuded a raw sexual danger that was somehow far more potent; I could even feel my pussy moistening just from being near him. He ran a hand across my breasts and I squirmed in response.

"No, please," I pleaded, struggling to remove his hands from me.

Swiftly, he wrapped one hand around my throat, making me freeze up instantly; but he didn't squeeze. I could still breathe, but his grip on my windpipe was just tight enough to remind me who was in charge.




Intruder Ch. 10



"I don't take no for an answer, Leah," my rapist whispered softly into my ear, worming his free hand up my dress and rubbing the crotch of my panties with his fingertips, "you should know that by now."

My will to resist became putty as he expertly manipulated my clit through my underwear, making me shamefully wet. Memories of Dean attacking me earlier that day assaulted my mind and made me want to panic. But as fearful as I was, my rapist was nothing like Dean. He might be built like a pro-wrestler, but my rapist had never struck me as sadistic, just sexually driven. Maybe if I let him have his way with me, he'd calm down. Or maybe I was just hoping that because I had no other options. At the very least he wouldn't hurt his unborn baby; of that I could be certain.

Once my panties were saturated with my pleasure, he wormed his fingers behind them and tore them away, discarding the sex-soaked rag on the floor before undoing his trousers and dropping them to the floor. I wriggled in his grip, putting up the customary token resistance to his sexual assault. As usual, he was too strong for me, and he lined up his erect manhood with my well lubricated snatch, rubbing the glistening, purple head against my lower lips, before thrusting himself all the way inside.

I yelped aloud in shock as he filled me up to the brim. I don't know why I was still shocked by his forced entry; he'd done it fifty times before and would probably do it a thousand times again in the future. But he was hung like a stallion, and the walls of my pussy still had to work hard to accommodate his length and girth. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders for support as he gripped my ass in his hands and lifted me clear off the ground. Then he began to bounce me, using my own weight to carry out the rape.

I was soaking wet by this point, and each gravity-induced downward drop made a liquid smacking noise as our groins impacted. Before long, he was augmenting gravity with his own return thrusts, hardly breaking a sweat as he supported my weight. It was terrifying being held in his power, and yet thoroughly exhilarating. His thrusts were powered by pure, masculine aggression, and the sheer helplessness of my position brought on by this most intimate of violations was still as potent as when he first attacked me.

My rapist was a beast, his nature totally at odds with his polite and sophisticated accent. He was a beast that needed to be fed, and I was the sacrifice offered up to sate him, and I loved it. Even if I didn't want to be fucked by him, I knew I had no choice. My primal, feminine urges compelled me to submit to my rapist, to wallow in my sheer sexual vulnerability to him. He was the ultimate alpha male. He may be fickle and untrustworthy as a partner, but no one could possibly come close to matching him in terms of sheer virility when he'd forced me to bear his seed, or beaten the shit out of that beta-pervert Dean. Even if my rapist left me in the morning and never returned, I would gladly have his baby.

These and other thoughts swirled round and round in my head as my alpha-intruder continued to rape me. He was an expert at pleasure as well, angling his thrusts in such a way as to rub against my clitoris, making my liquid ecstasy flow like molten honey, and kindling a fire of pleasure in my groin and belly. I angled my back as his thrusts became more intense; partly to keep him rubbing against my love-button and partly to protect my stomach, even though my bump was barely visible.

The stimulation became too much for me as my pleasure reached critical mass and drowned my senses in climax. I released an orgasmic squeal through gritted teeth, reflexively digging my nails into his back. Were it not for his shirt, I would probably have drawn blood. The sight and sound of me in ecstasy spurred my rapist on for the final stretch, ramming his hips back and forth like a machine tool, leaving me to bounce about helplessly as his own pleasure reached the point of no return.

He snarled into my ear like a feral beast as his orgasm arrived, and I felt his massive cock twitch and jerk inside me before unloading its virile seed into my body. Jet after warm jet of his cum flooded my pussy, sending sensual shivers crawling across my skin. I hugged him close, nuzzling my face into his neck, holding on tight for fear that he might leave. As his spurts became dribbles, he put his mouth to my ear.

"Don't ever hit me again." He whispered sternly.

"Don't ever leave me again, and I'll consider it." I responded, sounding more defiant than I had intended.

"You should mind that tone of yours, sweetheart." he said dangerously, carefully pressing me against the wall with his body with his cock still buried inside me, reminding me of his superior strength.

"Or what?" I asked dirtily, daring him to 'discipline' me a second time in a row, "I know you wouldn't dare hurt me or your baby." He paused before responding.

"You're right," he replied at length, planting a kiss on my neck, "I could never bring myself to hurt you or the baby, or see either of you get hurt."

"I was afraid you might snap and hit me."

"No," he assured me, tenderly stroking my body, "'Disciplining' women is much more fulfilling at the end of a penis than a fist, not that I've ever tried the fist."

"That's great to know," I said with a sarcastic overtone, "the man I've fallen for may be a serial rapist, but at least he's not a woman-beater."

He didn't respond to that; how could he? Since he didn't reply, I wrapped my arms more tightly around his neck, adjusting my back to give my nascent baby bump some space.

"Thank you," I purred, snuggling into his embrace, "for protecting me from Dean."

"You're the mother of my child," he answered, "What did you expect me to do?"

"Most people say "you're welcome", you know."

"You can thank me by not flirting with any other men in future," he responded severely, leaning into my ear again, "that includes your friend David."

There was a threatening undertone to his command, and I could feel his grip on my body tighten ever so slightly. I had barbed him a little too much today, and as a result he seriously suspected that I might have become involved with David. Fortunately, there was an easy way to deflate that myth.

"He's gay, by the way." I whispered in reply.

The jealous, pent-up aggression in his body language evaporated almost instantly.

"What?" he asked, as if he were hard of hearing.

"My best friend, David, swings for the same team."

There was a long pause as my rapist awkwardly tried to process this revelation.

"But, you seemed pretty close to him."

"Of course I was close to him," I retorted, rolling my eyes, "after upgrading the security in my home and carrying a taser around to protect myself from men like you, I still needed some companionship; and a gay male friend isn't going to hit on me or attack me in my own home. It's really not rocket science if you think about it."

"Then why did you tell me he was your number 2?" he asked, sounding annoyed.

"I said he WOULD be my number 2," I corrected him, "If he weren't gay. I left that bit out partly to annoy you, and partly to test how much you really cared about me."

"Women and their mind games," my rapist growled in exasperation.

"Well, what we lack in brute strength we have to make up for by being smarter than you." I replied innocently.

"Goading me by flirting with other men is not particularly smart."

"How else was I supposed to test your commitment to me?" I contended, "for all I know you have a network of girlfriends all over the country, and you just came back to visit me for a few days before moving on to the next one."

"Women and their insecurities," he snorted in amusement.

"Don't make fun of me," I said, sounding hurt, "you barged into my life, remember?"

"Even so, there is no 'network of girlfriends'."

"Well that's nice to know," I continued, pressing my attack, "but I'm still struggling with the fact that I've fallen in love with a rapist; so the least you can do to make me feel like less of a traitor to womankind is reciprocate."

My rapist kissed me aggressively. His move caught me by surprise, but I acquiesced in his move and let his tongue invade my mouth, invading his mouth with my tongue in response. I gently broke off the kiss, keeping my forehead resting against his.

"That's a start." I murmured approvingly, "Although you could improve on that by telling me your real name."

"I..." he hesitated, "I don't see why..."

"Because I'm tired of thinking of you as 'my rapist' or 'the intruder'," I snapped impatiently, "seriously, if you don't tell me your real name right fucking now, I swear to god I'll rat you out to the cops."

I was still impaled on his manhood, and he was still suspending me in the air with his strong arms, so there was no real way for me make good on my threat. But he paused for the longest time before setting me down and removing his cock from inside me. I pressed my thighs together to stop his seed from leaking out; even though I was already pregnant, his seed was still a precious gift to me, and I didn't want it going to waste.

Pulling off his shirt and dropping it on the floor, my rapist walked naked to the laptop on my bedroom desk. He sat down at the desk and accessed the internet. Perplexed by his lack of response and brimming with curiosity, I followed him over to see what he was looking at.

"Why are you showing me the corporate website of some internet security firm?" I asked him sceptically. He said nothing, and silently scrolled down to the history paragraph, turning the laptop towards me so I could read it.

"Cyber-Ace Technical Solutions was founded in 2006 by British ex-military officer and entrepreneur John Gabriel Thornton. Born in 1980, Arbroath, the United Kingdom, and raised in the city of Portsmouth, Captain Thornton was a child prodigy who attended MIT at the age of 17 and graduated one year early with a double major in mathematics and computer science.

Returning to his home country, he decided to serve in the military, following in the footsteps of his late father. After serving for 3½ years in the Royal Marines as an intelligence officer, followed by another two years in the Special Boat Service, Captain Thornton left the military and returned to the United States to go into business, offering his services designing cyber-security software specifically for large firms, charities, hospitals, and similar institutions. His business model supplied a niche demand that has allowed Cyber-Ace Tech-Sol to grow into one of the largest and most successful cyber-security firms in the United States.

In 2010, Captain Thornton made the decision to leave the firm to pursue other interests, but retains shares in the company he founded, which has been building on his original vision and his resulting accomplishments ever since."

"Captain John Gabriel Thornton, Commando and entrepreneur turned serial rapist..." I mused, having learnt more about the most important man in my life in that corporate statement than I had ever done since meeting him.

"I am also an extremely talented cyber-intrusion specialist." He added.

"You mean a hacker?

"I've had a knack for understanding machines ever since I was a child" he explained, "that's how I found out you worked at the city hospital -- which is state-of-the-art and uses software designed by my company -- and how I was able to read your computerised test results, and fake the positive mono result that kept you at my mercy."

"How did I ever fall for such a devious man?" I wondered aloud, shaking my head.

"You say that like you had a choice." He noted with a smile, gently squeezing my ass.

"Sooo..." I ventured, "I don't mean to sound like a gold-digger, but how much did you earn from your career in business?"

"I still have a 10% golden share in Cyber-Ace," he replied, "but I sold the other 90% when the company went public."

"And...how much did it sell for?" I persisted.

"Why? Are you planning to run off with it?" he asked, making me laugh.

"That depends how much you actually have." I joked.

"The final profit, after taxes," he announced, pausing for suspense, "was $592,456,321.99"

For a moment, I thought I'd misheard him.

"Did you say 'hundred million'?" I asked for confirmation.

"I made almost three quarters of a billion dollars," he confirmed, casually, "and have been funding my lifestyle with the profits ever since."

I remained silent for a long time as I processed the unbelievable size of the fish I had reeled in. Then, with a Cheshire cat smile, I slowly lowered myself onto his lap, taking care not to squeeze his junk.

"Baby-daddy is loaded." I grinned, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"'Baby-daddy'?" John asked, clearly having never heard the term before.

"The father of my baby," I explained, resting my head against his shoulder and savouring the touch of his bare skin, "and you're going to be a caring and generous father to our baby as penance for being an evil rapist to me."

"That's fine," he agreed, stroking my hair, "but it's an offence I plan to repeat."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I think you know what I mean, Leah." John replied with a smile and a glint in his eye, "I want to you to give me as many children as you can manage."

"Well, then you'd better use some of that massive stash of cash to pamper me well," I answered, feeling daunted, "because I am not looking forward to giving birth."

*

"""Don't forget to post a comment with your thoughts below."""



Intruder Ch. 11



(sorry for the long wait, you guys. This story reveals a bit more about John's back-story, hope you enjoy it!)



I fell on my back onto the luxuriously soft, silk sheets as John hiked up the hem of my nightdress and readied his cock to penetrate me. I spread my thighs and relaxed my body, tingling with anticipation, my entrance so moist with pleasure, so eager to be violated. The head of his manhood touched the wet hole between my legs, making me shiver with pleasure as I prepared to submit to him. Then he thrust home.

John had entered me hundreds of time, and every time he did I gasped aloud as his cock filled me to the brim. It didn't hurt the way it did when he first deflowered me, and certainly not in the way it surely would when his baby came out in five months time, but it was supremely snug and my pussy stretched elastically in response to his masculine intrusion. His naked body in close proximity to mine alone made me yearn to submit to him. The mere presence of his manhood inside my womanhood sapped all my will to resist. I felt conquered, and I wanted him to conquer me, over and over again.

His thrusting was slow and deliberate at first, like an alpha bull acclimatising to a submissive, new conquest. I let out a soft yelp with each inward stroke, 

I rolled over onto my side, mindful of my pregnant belly as John lay down beside me, spooning me from behind. His naked, masculine presence made me purr contentedly as he wrapped his arm across my body and kissed me softly on the neck. I adjusted my bare thighs a little as my rapist-lover's cum began to leak from my freshly fucked pussy.

"You're getting better at this." I remarked to John.

"I was good long before I found you," the father of my baby replied conceitedly.

"I wasn't talking about sex," I laughed, "I mean you're getting better at this: cuddling me like a devoted boyfriend and father-to-be should, instead of hoarding me like you used to."

"I have 54 other children." John reminded me, "I'm already a father."

"All of them were had by women you raped," I pointed out to him, feeling residual discomfort at the fact that he was a serial rapist, "you may have raped me too, but our child will be the first you'll ever get to be a father to . . . I hope."

John didn't reply. Instead, he lovingly caressed my pregnant belly through the silken fabric of my nightgown, contemplating the life that his urges had sparked into being. I closed my eyes in sensual humility, powerlessly drawn to the virile authority of the man who'd impregnated me against my will and yet still managed to compel my submission.

"Who was your first?" I wondered aloud. I hadn't meant to say it aloud, but the question was out of the bag now.

"My first victim or my first sexual partner?" John asked.

"Your first victim," I clarified, "and please tell me your first time wasn't a rape."

"It wasn't," he assured me, "on my 18th birthday, a girl at a party took me back to her dorm room and took my virginity. She was too drunk and too horny to care that I didn't have a rubber, so I developed a taste for bareback from fucking her."

"That's reassuring," I replied, "that would be monstrous if you'd actually started your sex life by raping women."

"My first non-consensual encounter was a few months later."

"Tell me about it." I said.

"Why?" he asked me, sounding puzzled and slightly uncomfortable.

"Because I want to know what goes on inside baby-daddy's head." I explained, "And, as one of your victims, I want to know why you became a rapist and why you continued. Not the philosophical stuff about masculine dominance, I want to know what made you start to believe it in the first place."

John was silent, either contemplating my request, or thinking of a way to reject it nicely.

"How much do you want to know?" he asked me.

"Every detail," I answered bluntly, "especially the sexual details. I want to know why rape appealed to you sexually, not just intellectually."

Another long pause.

"Alright." he agreed at last.

***

I didn't even know who she was. She was a senior, whereas I was just freshman, and she was smoking hot. I never saw her with anyone who might be her boyfriend, or any close male friends for that matter, but she would always walk about the place in the sexiest outfits; usually not slutty, but always sexy. She liked to go out with female friends, but never hooked up with guys as far as I knew. Plus, she had straight A's, and excelled at all her classes. I hate admitting it, but a girl doing that well made me feel very insecure, even though I was a brilliant student myself. If I'd known her personally it wouldn't have been so bad, but somehow, her aloofness and mystery, coupled with her stellar academic performance, made me feel somehow inadequate. The fact that she was so god damn hot, and always wore these sexy outfits, made it twice as bad.

One night, I saw her in a new outfit. She had the perfect model's face, with expressive eyes, full lips, and a nose stud. She had naturally dark hair, but she'd dyed it with blond highlights. Her breasts were plump and proportional to her chest, obviously not fake. There was a gentle hourglass curve to her body, with these perfect looking, baby making hips - though that wasn't originally on mind - and beautiful, sculpted thighs. She had a pair of really short shorts on, the kind that leaves almost the entire thigh bare. She had on a belly shirt, not the kind where the bottom is cut off, this shirt was buttoned and designed to leave a triangular gap to expose the belly. And she had a belly piercing, a turquoise-green barbell. Ever since I saw that stomach of hers, I've been hooked on belly piercings. They never fail to make me hard, and just watching her walk past me in the corridor made my cock stand to attention right then and there. She also had this sexy walk, not a deliberate style of walking as far as I could tell, but a natural strut which made her hips and ass sway gently as she moved.

I drank her in during that ten second strut-by, her hair, her face, her figure, her outfit, everything about her. I didn't even get a second glance from her. I was pretty strong and toned by that point, but I felt like an insect being passed over by a goddess, and I didn't like it. I'd seen her plenty of times before, but never felt so small or inadequate in that moment. I couldn't think of anything else as she swiped her key card and disappeared into her room.

That gorgeous body and the sluttiest outfit I'd ever seen her wear; it was almost as if she dressed that way to goad men who saw her. I didn't know her as a person, so I had no idea if it was true, but I imagined that she believed that whilst men were beneath her, it was still gratifying for her to torture them with her body, torment them with the sight of something they could never have. I hated that so much. In retrospect, I should have just grown a pair and struck up a conversation, but I wasn't thinking that way. The mere sight of her dressed that way kindled an urge inside me, an urge I had to make her satisfy.

***

"That sounds to me like 'Love at first sight' gone seriously wrong." I commented, tingling with curiosity.

"Lust at first sight would be more accurate," John clarified, "there was no love in what I felt then, and certainly none in what I did next."

"Don't spare any details." Leah said firmly, "I want to know how the rapist was born."

***

After she disappeared into her dorm room, I couldn't think of anything else except the beautiful body of hers. I went to her door and saw she hadn't shut it properly. On the spur of the moment, I opened her door and walked in. Her dorm room was a really nice room for seniors with high grades. It had its own common room and a mini-kitchen, as well as an en-suite bathroom, plus an incredibly comfortable bed that folded down from the wall. She had her back to me, as she got undressed, and I was extremely quiet, so she didn't hear me enter the room or shut and lock the door behind me.

She'd stripped down to her underwear, a semi-transparent black lace bra and panties, which made my cock absolutely rock-solid. Then she turned around and saw me. She yelped in shock, fortunately not loud enough to alert anyone, but I had to suppress the urge to panic. We just stood there facing each other; she was too scared to move, and for a long while so was I. Then, looking at her standing there almost naked, with that same hot body and delicious belly piercing, the sight of her rekindled my urges enough to overwhelm my fears, and I advanced towards her.

She didn't even move until I laid my hands on her. Then she started struggling, but I was far stronger than her, and just used my body weight to make her fall back onto the bed so I could pin her there. I was amazed afterwards that she hardly made a sound, she just wriggled and squirmed as I forced my way between her naked thighs. I undid my belt and pulled my trousers down for sex. She panicked at the sight of my erection and started to struggle more, but still refusing to scream out loud. Then I grabbed her panties and tore them off, along with her bra. Finally, I forced her body down and held it there as I lined up the head of my penis with her pussy. She resisted right to the point when my cock touched the entrance to her womanhood, but when I thrust inside, her will to resist completely melted away.

Her pussy was perfect. It was just tight enough to be a snug home for my cock as I pushed it all the way in, but not so tight that it squeezed me like a vice. It was just wet and smooth enough to ease my entry inside her, but not so slick with her juices that the sex would be messy. Just as her body was perfect, especially when I became physically connected with it, even the level of resistance that she offered was just right. Not too violent, and yet not to submissive. As soon as I was inside her, the fight in her dissolved and she just accepted what was happening to her. She submitted to my will.

All the while, from when I was overpowering her to when I entered her, it was nothing but lust that drove me on, a wild, bestial lust that had to be satiated. I started thrusting straight away, long and powerful strokes that made her whimper as I fucked her. It was slick and smooth as I mated with her, and my pace naturally increased as I continued humping her. I also started angling my hips so my pubic bone rubbed against her clitoris. I did all I could to pleasure her body as much as her body was pleasuring me. She barely fought against it, physically at least; but she tried so hard to suppress the pleasure mentally. Accepting that a rapist had forced his way inside her and patiently waiting for him to cum was one thing, feeling genuine pleasure at been fucked against her will was a humiliation she couldn't bear. But ultimately, I overpowered her in that respect as well. In fact it excited me even more than before to see her driven to ecstasy by the act of being forced upon, and I raped her more vigorously than ever until finally I thrust my hips forward and came inside her.

The feeling was glorious. I ejaculated everything I had into her, one dollop after another just kept filling her. It didn't occur to me that she might get pregnant, but that would have completed the experience. I didn't actually last that long, but it was a sublime mating; successfully inseminating her felt like a triumph of the masculine over the feminine, it was enormously empowering. Once I was done, I pulled out and put my clothes back on. She just lay there on the bed, looking shaken, and taken. I felt this horrible twinge of guilt just looking at her, so I left as quickly as I'd arrived.

That was my first rape. It was very quick, but it felt amazing at the time; but afterwards, it occurred to me that I'd committed a rape. The guilt nagged at me for days afterwards, and I was terrified that she might report me to the authorities. That would have been the end of my time at MIT, and I would have thoroughly deserved it.

***

"You raped that poor girl because she made you feel inadequate?" I said, fascinated and disturbed in equal measure by what I'd just heard.

"Partly, yes," John replied, "but for the most I was just turned by the sight of her. I could have fucked her or masturbated in my room, and a warm, wet pussy feels so much better around my cock than a hand."

"Did you feel guilty after raping me?" I asked John, not sure if I wanted to know.

"No," was the swift reply, "my thinking had evolved well before then. By the time I first saw you, I was fully convinced that mating with any woman I choose is my alpha male birthright. Breeding you fulfilled the need in my genes, and passed then on to our baby. I don't feel guilty about obeying the demands of evolution."

"And fertile, young women like her and I endure the consequences," I concluded with a sigh, rubbing my pregnant belly, "still, I've done pretty well having a baby by you."

"You can't do better than me." John answered with another conceited smile. I laughed at his statement, but as arrogant as it was, it was pretty much true.

"Did anything else happen?" I asked John, turning serious again.

"That wasn't the last I saw of her, actually." he replied.

"Spill it all." I told him.

***

We lived just down the hall from each other, so we saw each other every day. She would keep her head down whenever I was near, which is understandable for her, but for some reason I couldn't bear to look in her direction. What I'd done to her felt horribly wrong, and I was still terrified that she'd call the police or the campus authorities about the rape. Apparently her grades stayed the same, which was a pretty amazing feat given what I'd put her through, but I found out later how much she hated what I'd done to her, because she came and told me.

One evening, I opened the door to my dorm room and she came over and tasered me in the middle of the hall. When I woke up, I was completely naked, and my wrists were tied to the bedstead. It wasn't nearly as kinky as it sounds, given that the girl I'd raped a few weeks earlier was crouched between my legs with her hand on my junk.

"If you flinch, I'll squeeze so hard you'll never have children," she hissed menacingly.

Even after I'd been in combat when I was in the Special Boat Service, I never felt so afraid than when she said that to me. She hadn't even told me what she wanted, but she put me in the most vulnerable position I had ever been in. I was completely powerless. I didn't dare fight back in case she made good on her threat; and worst of all, I knew she had every reason to. It was all made worse by the fact that she was wearing exactly the same outfit she'd had on the night I raped her. She looked even sexier up close, and in spite of being so afraid, I had a huge boner just from looking at her. There was this cold fear slithering up and down my spine, and yet I was actually aroused by the girl who'd overpowered me.

"Do you feel powerless and afraid?" she asked me coldly, "well that's how you made me feel when you raped me you sick pervert."

"Then why haven't you reported me?" I asked her, trying to sound calm and collected.

"Because they wouldn't do anything about it," she replied, "barely 6% of rapists in this country are ever convicted; and even when they are, the victim is scarred for life."

"So you want revenge?"

"No." she said to me, "I'm doing this to face my fear."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been afraid of you ever since that night," she explained, her voice starting to tremble, "I lay awake at night, terrified that might come back and violate me again. I'll never be rid of that fear until I face it, and realise that it's just a cowardly little boy, who didn't have the balls to ask for what he wanted so badly."

Her words really stung my ego, but I had no choice but to take the abuse. The fact that she had the moral, as well as the physical, high ground, made me feel very small indeed as she insulted me, all the while holding my masculinity hostage.

"And best of all," she continued with this sultry tone that me quiver with arousal, "I could still say no, because my body belongs to ME. No man has the right to force himself on me, or do anything to my body without my consent, and I really am tempted to squeeze your nuts to teach that lesson. But just having the power to do it is so much sweeter.

"I don't need to be afraid of you anymore," she whispered in my ear, deliberately giving me a view of her plump breasts, "but you should definitely be afraid of me, you miserable rapist. Very, very afraid of a vengeful victim."

At that point she made the mistake of letting her hand slip away from my balls and up the length of my cock. In that split second, I forced her over and onto her back, and ripped the sheets she'd used as cuffs away from the bedstead before forcing myself between her legs and pinning her wrists to the bed. She was taken completely by surprise by the sudden reversal of power, and was mortally terrified by me. I was an angry and vengeful male, twice as strong and aggressive as the young woman who'd threatened me in such a tender place, and I was stark naked, thanks to her.

"You shouldn't have done that, you little whore." I snarled nastily.

"You can't kill me," she said with impressive bravery.

"Of course I can," I replied menacingly, "I just don't want to. No, I'd rather fuck you again. You were a slutty little cock-tease when I first saw you, and now here you are again, wearing the same slutty little outfit as before, threatening my manhood and teasing it until it's hard again. You need punishment and I need release."

"Well go ahead then," she snapped, the tone of her voice and the look in her eyes unbelievably defiant, "fuck me. Rape me like the heartless monster you are. I won't cry out. I refused to cry out then, and I refuse to cry out now. Once you've had your way with me again, I'll still have the moral high ground, and you'll still be an evil rapist with no heart and no soul."

Her words stung a lot more than before, and I seriously doubted whether I wanted to rape her or not. I realised that I'd done a horrible thing to her, even if it was just to relieve my own needs, and my conscience genuinely did tug me away from the decision to rape her. But nature is stronger than nurture. Her sexual power play had made my dick as hard as an iron bar, and my fury at being emasculated by her had mingled with my raging libido, making me NEED, not want, need to rape her, if only to establish my power over her.

So I made a decision that night, and I never looked back: I raped her again.

I ripped open her buttoned shirt to expose her bra before tearing it away, exposing her plump, young breasts to me, not to mention her delicious belly piercing. Then I unbuttoned her extra-short shorts and yanked them downwards, taking her panties down with them. Amazingly, she did virtually nothing to resist me, in fact, she barely struggled at all, it was almost as if she were resigned to the fate I was imposing on her.

Once her pussy was exposed to me, I took my cock in hand and lined it up with her feminine entrance. She trembled when the glans of my penis touched her labia, and even more amazingly, she was already moist.

"You're a beast," she said to me.

"You entered his lair," I responded menacingly, "now he's entering you."

With that dramatic statement, I thrust my cock inside her. She cried out as I drove home into her, but cut it short so it didn't become a scream. Now I had the power again. I was physically inside of her, and on top of her. She couldn't escape without my consent. How perverse was that? Moreover, she had forced me into submission by physically threatening the great symbol of my masculinity, what better way to put her in her place than by using my manhood to violate her womanhood? It felt so natural, so poetic, and yet it was so wrong.




Intruder Ch. 11



I started rocking my hips, gently at first, making my cock slide in and out of her as her pussy treacherously provided all the lubricant I needed. She simply lay on her back, passively accepting my violation of her body, yet refusing to shed tears or give any visible hint of accepting defeat. I didn't care; I simply began to thrust harder and harder, until I was virtually pounding her poor pussy with the power of each stroke. Before long, the bed began to creak with the momentum of the sex, and her body slid against the sheets as I raped her harder and harder, all the while refusing to show any sign of surrendering to the male between her legs.

Her body, on the other hand, was anything but passive. As my thrusting became more and more ferocious, her womanhood worked so hard to accommodate my manhood. Even as my cock rammed into her like a battering ram, the walls of her pussy continue to lubricate her passageway to avoid damage to the walls, and the muscles lining her love-tunnel began to contract rhythmically around my prick, caressing and soothing my manhood, especially as the sensitive head of my cock rubbed against the silken folds of her cunt. It was almost as if her pussy were trying to appease the intruder inside it, tempting it to cum before she did so as to minimise the chance of impregnation by an inferior male. In retrospect, it's much easier to anthropomorphise her pussy in my mind, even though I couldn't tell how she was feeling, but it turned me on so much to think of it as a contest between an aggressive, penetrating, thrusting male and a passive, receptive, appeasing female.

Furthermore, I am not, and have never been, an inferior male. Given the growing churning in my testicles, it was certainly tempting to give in and cum quickly, but I was determined to prove my sexual superiority by fucking her to an overpowering climax. I increased the pace of the forced copulation whilst holding out against ejaculating to early, determined to force her into a humiliating and simultaneous orgasm with me. I knew she could tell what I was doing, because she did her best to resist the inevitable, even as she refused to do anything to physically dislodge me from her. She had risked her bodily integrity to get revenge on me, and was now paying the price for it. I also angled each thrust so as to make my pubic bone rub against her clitoris, making the sexual stimulation unbearable for her.

She couldn't help herself as she cried out again in climax. She instinctively gripped by shoulders and hugged me close to her body, even lifting her legs up into the air as the orgasm was forced upon her. That was my chance. I accelerated my thrusting again until it was a wild frenzy, my masculine spear driving all the way up to the gateway to her womb, demanding entrance into her most sacred temple. Then my own orgasm arrived. I snarled through gritted teeth and thrust myself into her all the way up to the hilt as my liquid pleasure came boiling out of the tip of my penis, flooding her love-tunnel with my potent seed. She released her grip on my shoulders and just lay there, apparently passively accepting my conquest of her body.

"You think this makes you powerful?" she asked me, sounding out of breath.

"A man is never more powerful than when cumming inside a woman's pussy." Those words came spontaneously to my mouth, but they summed up exactly how I felt in that moment.

I felt a piece of cold steel press against the skin of my neck, which rapidly deflated my soaring, masculine ego.

"Wrong," she said with an air of black widow triumph, holding a switchblade against my throat, "a man is never more vulnerable than when he cums."

This latest development was utterly galling, and it came completely out of the blue. Just when I thought I had overpowered her completely, she'd checkmated me.

"You know I could kill you right now, don't you?" she said with a note of smugness.

My response was to close my fingers around her neck without squeezing.

"Then we'll die together."

"You have more balls than I thought," she replied, "or maybe you're just stupid."

"So go ahead and cut my throat," I told her, "I've just committed the ultimate crime against your bodily integrity, I'd do the same in your position."

"Well I wouldn't do the same in yours." she answered resolutely, "I wouldn't rape you just to assert my superiority, and I don't want to kill you. No one deserves to die."

"I'm pretty sure most other rape victims would disagree with you." I said. Although it was undoubtedly true, I surprised myself by saying such a thing.

"Should I be more like 'other rape victims' then?" she asked me.

"You are your own person," I told her, "and I am mine."

We lay there for the longest time, locked in a sexual standoff before she spoke again.

"I hated you so much after what you did to me a few weeks ago," she said to me, "and I was terrified of you. But I don't hate you anymore, and I don't fear you either."

"The minute I saw you, I knew I had to have you." I told her sincerely, "I never wanted you to be afraid of me; I just wanted to be inside you."

"So you decided to bust your nuts inside my body without even asking me if I was OK with it," she snapped at me angrily, "rape is an act of selfish power on the part of men with inadequate egos, nothing more."

"Rape is sex," I replied without any shame, "and I enjoyed every second of it."

She had no immediate answer to that statement.

"At least that's honest," she said, eventually, "it would have been ten times worse if you'd tried to justify it by convincing yourself I enjoyed it too."

"I did what I did to you purely out of masculine lust," I added, "nothing more."

There was another agonising pause.

"Never come near me again after this night," she said to me, "and I'll never say a word about what happened between us."

"Deal."

***

"I don't know whether to find that despicable or hot." I confessed to John as he brought his story to a close.

"It was a bit of both," he replied, running his hand up my naked thigh and underneath my nightdress, "I didn't know whether to be ashamed or proud of myself after what I did that night. Truth be told, I still don't."

"Given how that was just the start of your endeavours as a rapist, it seems like you took the later course." I pointed out to him.

"I'm not a psychopath," John explained to me as his hand caressed my pregnant belly, the belly he'd given me through rape, "I do have some compassion and empathy for the women I've violated. But the feeling I get when I ejaculate inside a woman is just so much more intoxicating, so much more primal than anything else I've felt, especially when it's against her will. The shame form that night is just residual from when I still had reservations about it."

"Well, she was right about one thing," I said to John, "your honesty is a big point in your favour, in spite of what you've done to so many women."

"I was honest with myself," he responded, "I never found out that girl's name, and yet I kept seeing around campus, even though we'd agreed never to go near each other again. But when I noticed that her belly was getting bigger, I didn't know what to think. Assuming she didn't terminate it later, my brief, frenzied actions had resulted in a new life, which she would have to carry inside her belly, give birth to, and nurture for years afterwards, and all because I had succumbed to my male lust in a single moment. After seeing her pregnant with my child, instead of shunning that feeling masculine superiority and locking it up in a mental cage, I chose to embrace it, and I've never looked back. A powerful cock and a potent pair of balls are only as good as my willingness to put them to use, and considering how I've fathered over fifty children since then, evolution seems to favour me."

I couldn't help but smile at the selfish conceit in his voice and words, and again, it was completely true. The night he'd taken me in my own bed had changed my life forever, and the way things were working out, it seemed to be for the better.

John's hand slithered southwards across my four-month belly to my pregnant pussy, still leaking cum from our most recent coupling. I inhaled sharply as he began to stimulate my clit with two fingers, not at all put off by the fact that I was leaking his bodily fluids. In response, I lifted one leg into the air and reached downwards. As I did so, he took that as a cue to initiate sex again, taking his hand away from my clit and using it to manoeuvre his manhood back into position. That wasn't quite what I had in mind, but it was hardly unwelcome.

As the head of his cock kissed the lips of my pussy, he eased it between my labia and slid ever so gently inside, eliciting a pleasured gasp from my upper lips. With him lodged snugly inside me, I reached down between my thighs and took a hold of his enormous nuts, caressing them like the precious gems they were to me.

John froze up slightly when my hand gripped on his balls and began caressing them.

"What are you doing?" he asked me.

"Stroking your ego." I replied.



(Suggestions and comments are always welcome, and although I don't always follow suggestions that are given, I always read them and always take them into account for future stories).



Intruder Ch. 12



Thank you all so much for your incredible patience. I've had to take a break from story writing for a while, but I haven't abandoned Intruder. Enjoy!

*****

I drifted leisurely back into the waking world, taking my sweet time before opening my eyes. It was a Saturday morning, no need to get up for anything. Even though I was still tired, I could sense that John had already left the bed. Slowly, I mustered the strength to reach over and press a button on the bedside table. 

The curtains parted mechanically, revealing a sweeping, panoramic view of the entire city. Before the 2008 crash, John had told me, the top thirty floors were being developed as a set of luxury apartments, with five apartments on each floor of the perfectly cylindrical building. When the crash hit, demand for the finished apartments plummeted overnight, and with it, the price. John had bought all thirty floors, set up a shell company to rent out the bottom 29 for profit, and had had the walls separating the apartments on the top floor knocked down, creating one big, super-condominium for himself consisting of the entire floor. 

I climbed out of bed and stood up carefully. At 25 weeks I was getting less and less agile. I stretched my back gently and hold my pregnant belly tenderly as I surveyed the awe-inspiring vista before me. It had been nearly three months since I'd left my old apartment, and the empowering feeling of being on top of the world was as strong as ever. I felt like a queen gazing down on her domain from a luxurious palace in the heavens, and the feeling brought a beaming smile to my face. 

My moment of personal exhilaration was interrupted by a sticky trickling sensation seeping out of my pussy and down the inside of my thigh, injecting a little bit of reality into my fantasy. John's cum from the previous night was leaking from me, reminding me that he was the king in this heavenly palace, and I his subservient concubine. Not that I minded this arrangement. I had truly fallen in love with the father of my baby; the handsome, ex-commando, alpha male who had raped me out of raw lust; his sophisticated British accent and his insatiable desire for my pussy. Being his sexual plaything was an exciting price to pay for living like a queen. 

John's sticky seed felt a little uncomfortable trickling down my inner thigh; now was a good time for a shower. I padded naked to the 7-star bathroom and relieved myself before getting in the shower. It was a power-shower which sprayed from all directions, as well as from above. It was also big enough for two people, deliberate maybe? 

As the warm water poured down my skin in little rivers, I picked up a flannel and scrubbed between my legs, cleaning up the evidence of our coupling the previous night. John insisted on cumming inside me every time, which did at least mean less to clean up afterwards, but was also pretty distracting as his cum would keep dripping into my panties for hours afterwards. Sometimes, on the days when I wore skirts, I didn't even bother with underwear. 

The shower door opened and my rapist entered, naked as a caveman, though with less hair. 

"Nice of you to join me, pervert," I said, not bothering to cover myself anymore as I handed him another flannel, "now scrub me." 

"Someone's feisty today," said John with a smile as he took the flannel. 

"Since I've forfeited my privacy to you," I replied, "the least you can do is help me wash." 

John stepped forward and pulled me into a sensual kiss. I closed my eyes and let his tongue invade my mouth. 

"Certainly." 

My intruder started to rub my body with the flannel, running it gently across my skin as we showered. I turned around and rested my back against his powerful chest, and before long John dropped the flannel and began to run his bare hands across my body, gently massaging my breasts, waist, and hips before predictably reaching for my womanhood. I took a hold of his wrists and guided them back up to my pregnant belly, making him gently caress the growing bump that he had created. I'd taken out my jewelled piercing a long time ago, anticipating the stretching that would make a barbell uncomfortable. But I'd replaced it with a flexible plastic one, remembering how much my rapist had liked my pierced belly, and anticipating future ravishment by him. 

"I want you." My rapist whispered in my ear, his voice seething with masculine desire. 

"And I want you," I replied softly but seriously, "to be a good father to our child, and any others I have for you." 

There was a lengthy pause, but I gave John time to consider his response as he held me in his arms. 

"I can try." He said pensively. 

"You'll need to do a bit more than try." I replied. 

"I don't know how to be a father," John replied, his normal, alpha male arrogance slipping into a tone of self-doubt, "I didn't have a father growing up, and his only contribution to my life is the DNA in my cells." 

"That doesn't mean you can't be a good father," I reassured him, stroking his hands as they rested on my belly, "if you love me enough to help what you created, I'll happily have your babies for the rest of my years. And you'll be a much better man than your dad ever could be." 

Another pause followed, then John leant down and kissed me on the neck with the shower water still pouring down our bodies. I closed my eyes and stretched my neck to one side as he kissed me, like an alpha she-wolf exposing her throat to her mate. I took this to be a yes even before he said it. 

"Well, you're already living with me," he noted, "and your pussy feels so wonderful around my cock. Plus, it would be nice to finally tell my mother she has grandchildren." 

"She doesn't know about your sexual adventures?" I asked. 

"Dear god, no." John replied emphatically, "finding out that her son is a serial rapist and a father by the same token? I don't know how she'd react to that news." 

"The one woman that every man is truly afraid of," I laughed, "his mother."

"I'm not afraid of her," John replied, "that's just not the sort of thing any parent would want to find out about their child." 

"True," I answered, "A rapist's child fathering children through rape. That's disturbing." 

"That rapists have an evolutionary advantage." My rapist said, his alpha smugness returning. 

Even though I'd fallen for John and wanted him in my life, as well as in me, I still wrestled with his theories about rape. The idea of a 'rapist gene', if such a thing existed, being favoured by evolution, as if it were a GOOD thing, made me feel distinctly uncomfortable. I still hadn't reconciled my love and lust for my rapist, with the idea of rape itself, which I couldn't quite bring myself to think of as 'normal', let alone something favoured by nature. 

"Let's get breakfast before the sun gets too high in the sky." I said eventually. I could revisit that dilemma later in my own time. 

*** 

John and I washed together without having sex. As my belly got bigger, the need to protect my bump meant sex in the tight quarters of the shower would be hard to pull off. My rapist contained his urges, but with a warning that he would need a release sooner or later. If anyone else had said that to me, it would have given me the creeps. But coming from John, with his sexy British elocution, it made my pussy tingle. 

We dried off and got dressed before eating breakfast together, and then disappeared to different parts of the enormous super-apartment to pursue our own activities. John usually had some computing project he was working on to keep his expertise up, or else was managing his vast network of finances. Part of me worried he was planning another rape spree. That bothered me less because he would be violating some other innocent, unsuspecting girl, and more because he would be away from me while he was indulging his urges. It worried me that he might get bored and leave, so whenever he wanted sex, which was often, I usually gave it to him, eager to keep my alpha baby-daddy satisfied. I hoped it was enough. 

I spent most of the morning doing aerobics - or at least the stretches I could still pull off safely - made myself a giant snack afterwards, and curled up on a couch in the living room to read a book. The living room felt like it had been taken from a mansion, complete with a giant marble fireplace, an electronic, simulated fire which glowed softly when the lights were switched off, and ornate furniture with wonderfully soft pillows and cushions. 

As I read, I started to nod off from being curled up immobile on the soft fabric of the couch, so I put the book down and lay back against the cushions. I was wearing only a sports bra and leggings, leaving my belly and back exposed. The outfit was nice and comfortable, and baring so much skin made me feel sexy, too. It would certainly make John horny. 

Eventually, my mind wandered back to the subject of rape, as it so often did, given my increasingly close relationship with my very own rapist. I was particularly bothered by our conversation about rape being advantageous for the rapist. I'd dabbled in evolutionary biology before settling on nursing, so I knew that technically it was true. The rapist wouldn't have to care for his victim after impregnating her, leaving the mother to raise the child by herself and the rapist free to force his genes into the next woman. 

That raised an even more disturbing thought: did women who submitted to rape and bore their rapist's child afterwards have an advantage too? That thought grated against the grain of my instincts even more. It was obvious what the rapist gained from it: a quick, low cost means of fathering babies. But the idea that a woman was better off submitting to a forced breeding, if only because her rapist's baby would still contain her own DNA, was very different. 

My hand drifted across my pregnant belly as I contemplated my own 'success'. Technically, I was a success. My 'mate' John was a handsome and vigorous, apex male, and our baby would inherit all of those qualities from him. And it was all because I'd failed to fight back adequately when he'd raped me. Did I have a leg up on the other members of womankind because I'd submitted to him? Were a woman's struggles just a test of strength to see if her rapist was 'man enough' to impregnate her? The idea was perverse, outrageous. And yet, there was something undeniably kinky about it. 

I couldn't pursue this line of thinking without feeling a twinge of guilt at doing so. Most rapists were not like John, and for their victims, rape was decidedly NOT a pleasant experience. Never mind the spiel about rape as a reproductive strategy, I had still felt violated the morning after John had first taken me; and for those women who discovered that their rapists had left something behind to grow inside them, the whole thing was doubly traumatic. Did I really believe that rape was somehow evolutionarily justified? Did John? 

I caressed my bump pensively. The answer didn't really matter. Even if I had hated John for what he'd done to me and to so many other women, I would rather my unborn baby have her biological father around, with all his flaws, than grow up with no father at all, not to mention a comfortable childhood. If I ran away, then raising a child on a nurse's salary - and as a single parent - would be a punishing task. With this arrangement, I could be a full time mom in the lap of luxury; and with a man I genuinely loved - whether in spite of, or because of how we met didn't matter - if I had to spread my legs and indulge my rapist's urges and fantasies to secure my baby's future, so be it. 

Most women might be prepared to make that sacrifice, but for me it wasn't a grim trade-off. John and this baby were the two best things to have happened to me so far. And, in any case, even though I'd felt dirty and violated afterwards, I still liked to fantasise about my ravishment. John may be a rapist, but in spite of my qualms about rape in general, I no longer felt guilty about the fact that that was what most attracted my inner cave woman to him. 

I lay back and closed my eyes, immersing myself in the memory of our first 'encounter'. He'd come to me in the middle of summer, in the dead of night, ready to assail me as I slept. I'd woken up a second too late as he covered my mouth and squeezed my throat until I submitted. My hand slipped down to the crotch of my leggings as I remembered John stripping away my panties and forcing his manhood in between my pussy lips, robbing me of my precious virginity as he violated my sacred entrance. In my mind's eye, I recalled him bearing down on me and thrusting into my womanhood like a rutting beast, a rough-cut, ultra-masculine barbarian defiling a beautiful, untouched maiden. Then the moment he came. That glorious explosion of wet warmth inside me for the first time had sealed my fate. 

"Having fun?" Asked a familiar male voice. 

I started in surprise and quickly withdrew my fingers from my crotch. John was towering over me, clearly amused that I had been fantasising about him. 

"I don't burst in on you when you're jacking off!" I spouted indignantly, crossing my legs to hide my wet patch. 

"I don't jack off," replied John, brushing off my irritation with an amused smile "do you mind if I join you?" 

That was fine by me, and I scooted forward as John stripped off his shirt, leaving himself bare chested as he slid in behind me on the couch and held me in his arms. I quickly relaxed again as I snuggled back against my rapist-lover. I felt truly safe in his powerful, gym-sculpted arms, and I felt that our baby was safe with its father embracing me from behind. I almost dozed off in his arms until it occurred to me how strange this was. 

"How come you don't want sex?" I asked John, a little suspiciously. 

"I'm happy just to cuddle," John replied, "plus, I want my baby-mother to be happy and safe." 

"It's 'baby-momma'." I corrected him, laughing. 

"I don't like to use slang," John answered, "but I'm serious. I thought about what you said earlier in the shower. I have over fifty children by women I've seduced or overpowered over the years. I may be the most prolific serial rapist in the country. But I want to be a father in more than just the biological sense, and you're my best chance of doing that." 

There was a spell of silence as I processed his words and the implication behind them. 

"The big, bad rapist," I said with a smile, snuggling further back into his embrace, "has finally been tamed." 

My statement elicited an almost evil chuckle from John. 

"Oh no," he clarified, "I'm still a rapist, and I still have an alpha rapist's instincts. I genuinely want to be a father to at least some of the children I've brought into this world. But I'll always be a sexual threat to women old enough to bear my children, including you."

"I guess you can't have the gentleman without the savage underneath." I sighed in response, actually relieved that I would still be on the receiving end of an uninhibited alpha stud. 

"Of course you can't." My intruder said to me, his hand drifting across my belly and down between my legs, "once I claim your pussy, I own your pussy."

That statement made me feel tingly all over. It felt so true. As John idly massaged my crotch, I stroked my pregnant belly, physical evidence of the truth of John's words. A simple act of male lust had changed my life forever, sparking a brand new life into being, a life which was growing inside me. And as long as my rapist continued to lust after me, there would be many siblings on the way. He truly did own my pussy. 

Then on second thoughts, John's words made me wonder if it was all that true. He'd certainly claimed my body for himself, but his base desires kept drawing him back to me, and as a result, I had a multimillionaire to pamper me and our baby in a luxury home on top of the world. Better still, this multimillionaire doubled as a virile apex caveman constantly lusting after the treasure between my legs. All I had to do was let him have that treasure whenever he wanted, and I could live like a queen. 

He didn't own my pussy, my pussy owned him. 

"Yes, you do." I murmured sweetly. No need to tell him that. 

I shifted my butt sideways and rolled carefully onto my side. John dutifully rolled in my direction and wrapped his arms around me. I held him close like a man-blanket, savouring the tender warmth of his embrace. I wasn't horny anymore, but I did drift off to sleep again. 

*** 

Leah's breathing slowed as she lay in my arms, dozing off slowly. It actually felt nice. I carefully removed my arm from Leah's grasp and began to caress her belly. My daughter was growing in there. The ultrasound had confirmed it was a girl. I didn't doubt that I'd love her when she arrived; but for some reason, I still felt smugger than I should. I conquered Leah's body, and her expanding belly was the ultimate mark of that conquest. As the months had gone by, that feeling chimed less and less with me. 

The pervert in me eventually came to the fore and my hand drifted up to caress Leah's breasts. They were getting swollen as her belly grew, firmer and more mature. I touched her gently so as not to wake her; no need for her to wake up and find me groping her. My hand slipped down towards her crotch and I began to fondle it. Leah gave a silent, but open-mouthed gasp in her slumber. She could feel it. My own body was stirring, and my cock hardened in anticipation. I tried to worm my fingers down into her gym shorts, but the elastic band was too tight. I couldn't take them off without waking her. Eventually, I gave up. 

Disappointed, I removed my hand from Leah's crotch and wrapped my arm back across her body, snuggling her back against my chest. Leah slept like a rock, but I wasn't even remotely tired. As the minutes passed, I realised I didn't feel relaxed at all. In fact, I was bored. Bored? What the hell for? It wasn't just frustration at not getting any action; that, I could deal with. I needed to go out and do something. But what? 

It didn't matter what, I just needed to go and find something. Once again, I extricated my arm from Leah's snuggling grasp, and slid quietly off the couch. She regularly napped like this for hours at a time, she wouldn't notice if I left the super-condo for a while. 

As I put on my shirt, I turned and looked back at Leah, still slumbering in her sexy yoga outfit, and cradling her pregnant belly as she slept. Without a thought, I knelt down and spontaneously kissed her belly. 

"I'll be back." I whispered. Without wondering whether that assurance was addressed to my unborn daughter or her mother, or both, I went out the door. 

*** 

I took the elevator down to the gym and walked in to find it deserted. Odd for a weekend. Less so given that it didn't technically open until lunchtime. Plus, there weren't that many people who came down to use it. Even though the economy was turning a corner, most of the apartments were still empty. It was also a rather small gym, with an array of weight machines at one end, a row of treadmills and Stairmasters at the other end, and a dance studio. 

I walked past the unused equipment to the dance studio. The door was open and I peeked in. There was a woman already inside, she was dressed for yoga, and was carefully rolling up an exercise mat. Evidently, she was just finishing. 

I ducked out as she turned to leave and flattened myself against the wall, waiting almost casually for her. Out she came with her stretch mat in the crook of her arm, and her jet black hair tied back in a bun. She was dressed in knee-length yoga pants and a sports bra, showing off her stomach. The tight yoga pants brought out the shape of her hips and thighs, giving her a deliciously Venus-like figure. I watched, completely unnoticed by her, as she turned right out the door and headed for the changing rooms. The shape of her hips and ass captivated me, and my cock hardened. It needed a taste of what was between those taut thighs. 




Intruder Ch. 12



I stalked purposefully after my quarry, resolutely ignoring the hesitant thoughts urging me to turn back. I loved Leah, but for her and our baby's sake I couldn't unleash my urges on her full force the way I used to. It was more than the need to get laid, it was the bestial urge to be sexually dominant, the urge I'd unleashed on Leah the night we'd first met. The beast could be chained and caged, but I'd suppressed it for too long, it was time to let it out for a stretch. 

I slipped into the women's changing room like a stealthy predator, unseen and unheard, and stalked towards the sound of clothes being removed. My cock was rock-hard now, ready to be wielded. She had her back turned to me as I silently rounded the corner, just as she was unclipping her sports bra; she never saw or heard me coming.

I clamped my hand over her mouth and swept her legs from under her, forcing her onto her stomach. She'd already taken off her yoga pants, leaving a bright red thong as her womanhood's last defence, a defence I lost no time in ripping away. She looked gorgeous, even from behind, with fleshed out thighs and ass, and a delicious-looking pussy slit. My erection was throbbing now, demanding to be released and allowed to do its work.

I bore down on my prey with my full body weight to stop her escaping, and fiddled with my zipper with one hand whilst keeping her mouth clamped shut with the other. The dual task was awkward to pull off, but I managed it, and my cock was freed. I pushed my trousers and boxers down to my knees then wriggled them down to my ankles. Now I could proceed.

Amazingly, my prey didn't struggle at all throughout this process. She couldn't physically escape, but she didn't even try to buck me off. No matter, that just made life easier for me as I lined up the mushroom-head of my manhood with the pink lips of her pussy and pushed in. My prey inhaled sharply as my flesh-rod slid inside her inch-by inch. The walls of her vagina were already wet, and they stretched obligingly to welcome my length and girth as I pushed all the way inside. I felt the tip of my masculine spear kiss her cervix as my crotch touched her butt cheeks. It was a perfect fit. I planted my hand between her shoulder blades, pushing her face down onto the floor, and began to thrust.

My initial rhythm was slow and deliberate, with each inward thrust short and sharp. I took my sweet time getting to a regular pace as I savoured the sensation of my penis gliding along inside her. It was glorious; there was no 'baby on board' to worry about, no pregnant belly to be mindful of, I could be as rough and bestial as I wanted with this one. She barely resisted, meekly accepting the intruding cock inside her, hyperventilating in time with each stroke.

I accelerated my pace, thrusting into her harder and faster, the force of my crotch slamming into her meaty ass making audible slapping noises that echoed inside the changing room. Her pussy became slicker as the assault progressed, eager to lubricate the path of the violating cock within it. Her body didn't care that this was surprise sex, it sensed a true male, and it reacted accordingly, preparing to accept the life-giving, valedictory gift.

Maintaining my rhythm and force, I gathered up her flowing, dark hair in both hands and gripped it like the reins of a horse, pulling on it with one hand whilst wrapping the other one around her belly. She responded eagerly, pushing herself up off the floor and arching backwards in response. Her hyperventilation was slowly giving way to moans of pleasure, and that excited me into pushing on to the home stretch.

Whilst supporting herself with one hand, she reached southward and began to rub her clit with the other. Her acquiescence excited me, and I obliged her by fucking her even harder. Her sex-tunnel was so slick now that liquid sex noises were added to the echoing drumbeat of our bodies slapping together. My prey was no longer hapless quarry, but an active participant as she massaged her clit furiously, bringing herself ever closer to orgasm.

No before me, she wouldn't. I could feel my own orgasm churning in the base of my nut-sack, my balls heavy with cum to deliver deep into a fresh pussy, and I was determined to cum before she did. Our fucking became a race to see who would reach orgasm first. It didn't matter if someone walked in on us now, all that mattered was who won. In the end it was a tie.

I released an orgasmic snarl from my lungs and thrust home as my passions boiled over, right at the very moment that her clit rubbing paid off. She let loose a stifled scream of ecstasy as her pleasure joined with mine. My cock writhed within her as my first pulse of cum was ejected into her, then a second, then a third and a fourth. The release of my pent up urges felt so cathartic. At the same time, my prey experienced a full body orgasm which reverberated in her crotch. I felt the muscular walls of her pussy contract in perfect rhythm, massaging and squeezing my cock to extract every drop of precious seed it had to offer, and hoover it up into her pulsating cervix. Another one of my many offspring might soon be conceived.

Panting mightily from our exertions, we collapsed forward together onto the floor, lying there for a long while as we caught our breath, and savouring the coupling that had just taken place.

"When I said 'anytime, anywhere,'" my 'prey' murmured eventually, "I didn't think you'd take it so literally."

"How else was I supposed to take it?" I asked with a snort.

"With a pinch of salt and a bucket of discretion," She replied, "lurking outside the yoga studio and forcing yourself on a woman in the women's changing room isn't discrete."

"You saw me?" I asked, surprised.

"Of course," she answered smoothly, "first I saw you peeking in from the doorway, then I saw your shadow as I left the studio. And a deaf person could've heard you clomping in to have your way with me."

"I see..." Apparently I wasn't as stealthy as I used to be.

"No worries, I guess lusting after Asian girls is too important to let subtlety get in the way."

"You're only half Asian, Katherine." I reminded her.

"True, but it's on my mother's side, where it counts." she said with a dirty smile.

"Right..." was my puzzled answer.

"And I've told you before," she said, sounding a little annoyed, "it's 'Kitty', not Katherine."

"Kitty sounds like a pornstar's stage name." I opined.

"Me tho hawny." Came Kitty's reply, followed by mischievous giggle. "Right, get off me so we can have a shower."

I obliged, and carefully removed my flaccid cock from inside her, removing my weight so she could get up. Then I paused.

"What do you mean by 'we'?" I asked as I pulled boxers and trousers back up.

"I'm flattered that you'd let me have the shower to myself, but we both stink of sex, and of each other." Kitty answered, kicking off her panties and strutting confidently to the showers, "now get over here."

Reluctantly, I pulled my clothes off and followed Kitty into the shower. Together we bathed under the cool water. Kitty made me rub body lotion all over her skin until it was frothy and white, before returning the favour and washing me.

I felt detached throughout the process, even as Kitty made a point of making me fondle her breasts, belly, and pussy, and of caressing my muscles and gently fondling my masculine equipment. In fact, it wasn't mere detachment. It was regret. The whole thing reminded me a little too much of my morning routine with Leah.

"And the guilt is setting in." Kitty observed solemnly. That snapped me back to my senses.

"What are you talking about?" I asked her.

"Don't treat me like I'm stupid, James." Kitty replied, "I can see the guilt written all over your face. Besides, if you were single you wouldn't be content with surprise sex in the gym. You're all clean, now get out of here before she misses you."

***

I retraced my path back to the super-condo feeling less than pleased with myself. The regret had crystallised into a leaden lump of guilt sitting in the base of my stomach, and I couldn't make it go away.

I had cheated on Leah. We may not be formally 'together', but infidelity was the only way to describe it. This was different to my California adventure where she'd still be just another conquest with a belly to show for it. I had made a decision to keep her by my side, and to see our child come into the world. But my past urges were hard to get over, and I'd failed to keep them in check. Still, at least this affair of mine was consensual.

I snorted derisively. From serial rapist to consensual cheater was certainly an improvement for me. That, at least, was a silver lining.

***

I'd only been gone for half an hour by the time I returned to the super-condo, so Leah shouldn't be suspicious. I returned to the living room and found her still there, laying on her side, fast asleep on the sofa. The sight of the mother of my child sleeping so soundly with pregnant belly visible made the guilt slap me in the face. Remorsefully, I stripped off my shirt and returned to my place on the sofa behind her, one arm draped across her body, holding her close to me.

My hand drifted across her belly thoughtfully. The events of the past half hour briefly slipped my mind as the familiar alpha male feeling returned; my virility was beyond question - something Kitty might find out first hand, soon - and here was physical proof of it.

My bubble of hubris was punctured by a tiny poking sensation on my hand. I flinched in surprise and paused, wondering if I had imagined it. Soon enough, it came again. A tiny, butterfly-like poking sensation.

I held Leah in both my arms and lovingly snuggled her closer to me as I realised what it was.

The baby was kicking.



Intruder Creates Sexual Release



The school year is finally coming to an end. Rosé's hard work slowly coming to a stand point. Summer was nearing and vacation was on the mind of each student and teacher. Rosé had done her years work teaching all eighteen students in her French classes. Only a selected few wanted to learn the romantic language of French so her classes were kept to a minimal of six students. Three classes of six students was the perfect number, but the students were becoming rowdy and almost intolerable. For the majority of the week, Rosé had come home from work feeling incredibly weak and fragile. Her voice ached with tightness only one could feel if their voice box was being overused. If she were to be a singer, she'd have lost her career with the pain she was feeling.

She came home on Thursday, her last day of the week and set her briefcase and papers onto her dining table. She walked to her living room windows and opened them to have the cool dusk wind sweep through her little Creole townhouse. She walked to the only bedroom in the house -- the master bedroom and ignited all ten candles set upon the room. Rosé loved her room smelling of a sweet nectar from the candles. It never mattered the scent, just as long as it was kind to her senses. She then walked to her bathroom suit and pressed her plug to the bottom of the deep bathtub. She turned the water on to a temperature which would cause her muscles to finally relax from its current tense state it was at. She went back into the main room of the house, the joint living room, dining room, and kitchen area of her home and pulled out a bottle of Muscat de Rivesaltes white wine from the refrigerator. She placed the bottle on the marble counter and took out a crystal Bordeaux glass. Before pouring her poison, she peeled off her rosso corsa red cardigan.

She finally poured the light white liquid into the smooth Bordeaux glass and brought the white wine glass to her nose. She turned the stem of the glass between her fingers and had the wine slush against the sides. The alcohol of only 21.5% would then rise to her nose as the glass narrowed at the end; she'd then sniff the fruity smell and gasped at the lush scent of her favorite wine. Rosé returned to the bathroom and placed her wine glass on the ridge beside the deep bathtub. She then unzipped the back zipper to her red and white floral dress and had it fall to the ground. She tossed the dress over to the corner of her bathroom with the kick of her foot. She then pulled on the clasps of her bra to her back, letting the black mesh of her full supporting bra fall to the ground. Her full D cup breasts free, the weight not caught up in the bra. She slid her hands to her taut nipples, playing with the little nubs at the end of her large cups. She then slid her hands down her stomach and hips to her tanga thong, slipping her fingers underneath the sides and pulling the material down passed her thighs to the floor.

Rosé was free from all sense of clothing, and stepped a dainty foot into the hot water still filling up the large tub. The heat causing her skin to tingle, but in the best way ultimately possible. She slowly slid her other foot into the water, feeling the heat surround her toes and ankles. She sat herself down on the ridge of the bathtub and pooled water into her hands and over her legs and stomach. She felt the hot water drizzle down her stomach to her groin, each droplet making way into her labia, teasing her little brown pussy. She brushed her unmanicured nails onto her inner thighs towards her needy pussy, looking to pleasure herself. She reached over to grab her glass of wine, and pressed the edge to her lips, tasting the sweet grapefruit mix of fruit. She felt ecstasy on her lips and pallet as she sipped on the wine. Rosé always loved the taste of Moscato grapes after a long day.

Slipping down into the water, Rosé reached over to the faucet and turned the hot water off, just letting the cool water sprinkle over her dark feet. As she relaxed in the heat cave of water, she felt her body release any stress she had conjured over the week. Rosé reached to beside the faucet and took some water oils to rub on her skin. The silky film always making her feel luscious and sexy. Her russet brown skin shining like the silk of a Japanese kimono, glimmering under the soft light of the sun. Again, she slid her hand down between her thighs to her mound, pressing against the sensitivity of her button and sliding a few fingers along her labia teasing her pussy. She pressed the fingers lightly into her tight opening, filling herself up. She held her breath as she penetrated herself. Letting go only when she finally felt the g-spot being glided on. She lightly moaned to the feeling of pleasure.

Rosé slipped underneath the water positioning her legs on each side of the edge of the bathtub and sped up her sensational rubbing. The movement taking on a whole new feeling, almost like a real cock filling her up. She absolutely loved the hot water also touching her every crevice.

She was just about to reach an orgasm when she pulled out of the water, having heard an odd sound inside the tub. She only thought it was part of her imagination until she heard it again. She lifted her head from the water barrier to see if she'd hear it again outside, when instead she noticed a tall man standing in her bathroom. He had been watching her masturbate in the heat of the moment. Rosé was unbelievably startled, she didn't know what to do. She reached for a towel, but was too far away. She then reached to get her wine glass to throw at the intruder, but he was too quick and took the glass from her, throwing it far from her. The glass shattered all over the floor, making Rosé wince in shock.

The intruder told her to continue what she was doing. He said this as he grabbed at his own groin and pulled at something which seemed to be hard. He wanted her to masturbate for him to watch? She wondered how she could get out of this horrible nightmare and be free of this shock. But he was tall and strong, like most black men who worked in some sort of labor. She looked to his hands to see for any scars, and sure enough he had rough calloused hands with little scars all over.

He moved closer to her and growled that she would have to do it for him, or he would make her do it. As he said "make" he pulled his polo shirt over his back to reveal his hard muscles all over his arms and chest. He was a very fit man, and she was terrified how he would hurt her. She couldn't even think of the thought of how he came into her home, all she feared was the pain he'd potentially cause her. She then spread her legs, and moved her hand over her cunt as she had previously. This time though, she felt nothing but numbness. She watched as his muscles tensed as she played with her body out of fear. He was really enjoying the sight she was giving him, becoming extremely turned on.

If it weren't for the circumstances, she had a feeling that she'd be quite attracted to the man standing before her. As she started to visualize the feelings they could have shared in a better way, she was actually becoming aroused. It shocked her how she was actually feeling a good sensation as she played below the water with her body as she watched the intruder. He began to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, letting them slide over his muscular thighs. His legs were as if they belonged to an avid football player, strong and rippling in the heat of the moment.

Rosé began to fantasize what it would be like to have the large man overtop of her, filling her up as he dove in deeper and deeper. His muscles ticking lightly as he tried to control the situation as he felt his own heat against hers. The passion so exotic, like a mix of fresh pineapple juice and guava. Different yet so tantalizing.

Every thought which went along with those lines just kept passing through her mind, and she eventually came so hard in the water as the man watched her. She was so amazed to have come in front of the stranger. Once her eyes began to focus again, she noticed that he was in the buff as well, his hard naked body free in the steaming room. He came closer to her, sliding his rough calloused hands over her smooth sticky skin. His palms pressing against her nipples, causing her body to react in such a way she only wished to feel with others. Rosé absolutely knew that she was his to take. No one else's, but his. She was also pretty sure that he knew that too.

He began to step inside of the bathtub himself, causing the water to rise ever so slightly. He then parted her thighs as he lowered himself into the water more, spreading her thighs with his masculine hands. He slide his left hand between her thighs, his index finger sliding between her swollen labia and his thumb caressing her round clitoris. She instantly shook against his movements, taken aback by his gentleness. He took his right hand to his own steed and stroked the nine inches smoothly. As he took his entire meat in his hand, he slid his middle finger from his left hand into the warming moisture in front of him. Filling Rosé up with that one finger. She moaned as she felt the finger escape into her spring of curls.

He grunted as he pushed harder into her with his hands, and then pulled out. The facial expression of pure loss which grew on her face as he pulled out made him realize that he was a hundred percent in charge of the situation. He moved closer to her, placing her legs onto the edge of the tub for a brief moment. His movement causing the hot water to flow over the edge and splash to the ground. He stroked his shaft against the slit of her pussy, teasing her with his length. Finally he pushed the head of his pulsating cock within the walls of her pussy, invading her space, filling her up. Every half inch would be pushed in slowly, taking his time as he made her moan. She grabbed at his thighs, digging her nails into his hips, pulling him closer to her. She wanted to feel his full on nine inch cock deep inside, while the girth of four and a half inches broke way to the tightness.

She begged to have him thrust in and out, never stopping. All she wanted was the man to take control and cause the heat of the water to transform to a whole other form of heat and passion. She arched her back as he filled her up, her chest nearing his ever so slightly. He bent his head to meet one of her erect mounds on her chest, clasping her dark nipple between his lips, feeling as the areola hardened like the nipple. Rosé pressed her hand to his head, making him suck and nibble all the more.

She had no idea how incredible sex with a stranger could utterly be. With every thrust, touch, glide of skin, she came closer and closer to her final climax, taking every move of his into consideration. His every squeeze, shake, pulsation, nearing his peak. They were both coming to their ending.

With one final shove of his cock, he dove in. Filling her up with his thick hot seed. Making her drought flood with passion. With his everlasting flow of semen penetrating deep inside her, she came to her final reaction, a mind bursting, and soul quivering orgasm. Her whole body shook for at least a minute then went limp. She had the most powerful orgasm ever, all thanks to the stranger. She fell into some kind of slumber, as he began to slip his tool out of her cave.

Some hours later she awoke with a cold chill over her body. The water around her had cooled down significantly. Her clothes where exactly where she had left them, and her body was feeling relaxed.

Her pussy felt like it had been finally taken care of; she thought she had the most amazing orgasm created by her own hands. As Rosé reached for her towel though, she noticed that her wine glass wasn't where she had left it. It really had been thrown to the corner of the bathroom. She wrapped the peach fluffy towel around her bust line and left the bathroom. Her house looked just as she left it, except for a minor detail.

In the TV closet no longer sat a flat screen television, her iPod speakers were gone, and her front door was ajar.

She had been robbed. The man who gave her such pleasure had been a robber. Now she knew how or why he was there. But the thing was, she didn't regret what happened, and she would have done the same thing again if she had to.



Intruder in the Night



It was a warm summer night as she sat on the porch in the swing. She had opened all the windows in the house to help air out some of the day's stuffiness and let some fresh air in for a little while. Stars twinkled in the sky above the old house as she sipped on her coffee enjoying this rare occasion that she had the house all to herself. The mantle clock above the fireplace chimed twelve times signaling the midnight hour was upon her. Reluctantly she pushed herself up and out of the swing and headed off into the house. While she turned down the fresh sheets she had placed on the bed the sounds of the crickets chirping filled the room and made her remember those camping trips of long ago she went on. 

Into the bathroom she went to wash her face and brush out her hair and brush her teeth and to use the toilet one last time before turning in for the night. Back in the bedroom she went to the bed where the satin sheets she had put on the bed this afternoon was cool to her touch as she pulled back the flat sheet, she had purposely left the comforter off earlier. 

Standing at the foot of the bed she started to change clothes. First came off her shorts and panties then her t-shirt and bra. Standing in the night air for a minute she decided to indulge and sleep nude tonight. Crawling into the bed she pulled the flat sheet up and let it fall against her body, the coolness causing her nipples to stiffen. Gazing out the window, the gentle swaying of the big oak tree totally relaxed her and lulled her into sleep.

Her body surrendered to sleep with ease as the moon cascaded over her body in the bed. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the moonlight as she wiggled a little to get comfy. Gentle rays shone on her legs as they lay out from under the sheet that was entwined between them and ran up between her breast leaving them both exposed to the night air. Her soft silky hair was fanned across her pillow like a lake of fire on the bed. This was how she laid when he came in her room.

He watched her for about ten minutes to see if she would stir and she never did so he proceeded with the task at hand. He spotted a pair of white thigh high stockings on the floor by her bed and decided to use those to tie her feet down. They were spread just enough that he tied the stockings first to the bed post at the foot of the bed then looped a loose knot around her foot and to her ankles. He would tighten them up later. He found a pair of pantyhose he ripped in half to tie her hands with and got out the handkerchiefs he planned to use as a blindfold and a gag. He had just got her right hand tied when she started to move so he quickly gagged her and covered her eyes before grabbing her free wrist just an instant before she could slap him. Once he secured that wrist down he went back and tightened up all his loose knots. Then he slowly removed the sheet leaving her body completely exposed to him.

"Welcome to my little party" he said to her as she struggled against the restraints.

"Let me tell you that the more you wiggle and struggle the tighter you will pull those knots, so please be still, I don't want you to hurt any."

Her body went still and very rigid. He began tracing her body at the side of her neck just below her ear and ran his finger down over the curve of her breast and down her hips and legs and then circled her foot and came up the inside of that leg and stop just about mid thigh and left his hand there and drew tiny circles. Finally he moved his hand again grazing her womanhood and moving down the inside of her other leg and around her foot and back up the outside of her right leg. His hand traveled across her flared hips and back up over her breast again and on upward till he ran his fingers thru her silky hair.

The bed shifted with his weight as he climbed on to the bed and got between her spread legs. Unbuttoning his pants he pulled his rigid cock free and let it rest against her inner thigh. He looked at her body as he took out a rubber and unwrapped it and then rolled it on to his fully erect cock. Covered, he moved up so the head of his dick was at her opening. Waiting for a few heartbeats he moved forward and split her open with one thrust that did not stop until he was completely inside of her. He felt her squeeze against him as if trying to push him out but he held firmly inside of her. His movements were slow and deliberate, pulling back till just his head was in then ramming back inside of her all the way. She tossed her head from side to side as if trying to shake out of bad dream but this only fueled his lust. Raising up on his arms he started to piston in and out of her at a faster pace. In and out he went, his balls slapping against her each time he drove it home deep inside of her. 

He slowed his rhythm back down, he did not want to end this too quickly for she was at his discretions now, he could do as he pleased. Settled into a steady rhythm his hips glided back and forth as he pictured her in his mind on all four swinging her head wildly begging for more. Excitement took him over again as his movements gained in speed and intensity. He could feel his own crescendo building to a fever pitch and knew his climax was very near. With that in mind he just let loose all that he was holding back and really fucked her hard. His cock slammed in and out at a furious pace as his cum began to boil forth from his balls. A white hot flash ignited his climax as his cock spurt forth its seed. Still pumping he filled the condom until he was entirely spent and could cum no more. Withdrawing from inside of her he unwraps his cock and puts the condom in a baggie and inside a pocket so he can dispose of it later.

Ready to make his exit he said, "I am thru with you now my little whore, but before I leave I will cut your left wrist free and the rest is up to you. Oh, don't worry because I will well out of sight before you get to where you can see me."

"Farewell my fair maiden" he says to her as he kisses her left cheek just before slicing the hose restraint from her left wrist. Fleeing into the night, the screen door slams shut behind him. 



Intruder? Not Quite…



I had been thinking of you all day, of the things you do to me and the way you make me feel. It was a long day at work. I finally get home from work and even though I know I will see you later in the evening I can't resist giving into the demands of my body. I quickly strip off my clothes and lay down on the bed. I am so aroused by the things going on in my head all day that even the blankets on my bed feel softer than I remember. 

As I lay there realizing it would be hours before you come, I let my hands wander my body. The craving for touch is not satisfied, not by my own hands, but I need something. I pretend they aren't my hands, but yours... large and strong, masculine, your hands are on my body, if only in my mind. I can feel them trail lightly down my sides causing my over sensitive skin to prickle, a pause at my hips and your hands are gone, for just an instant. You make contact again quickly, hands on my shoulders finger tips whisping over my collar bones, until they reach my breasts. Here, a firmer pressure, my breasts cupped in your huge palms, your thumbs circling my nipples, making them and the rings in them move in circles too. 

I feel a gasp escape my lips. I pinch my nipples in between my thumbs and index finger and roll them back and forth, all the while imagining the hands that touch me are yours. I let one hand slowly drift down finger tips dancing, skimming, teasing soft skin. Your hand touching me strokes my inner thigh, the crevice at the juncture of my leg and pubic mound, roving everywhere except where I really want, I can feel my own wetness trailing down to the bed. I feel the hand, your hand, part my lips, lightly stroke the wet pink folds of me, your fingers gently circling around my clit, the barbells in my inner labia moving in time on each side of my clit. Your hand moves down and –

I freeze; I hear something, someone on my stairs. I think it's you, hope it's you, hours early, as I hear the door open and close, lock and realize I didn't lock the door when I came in, it had better be you. My hand doesn't stop as these things go through my mind, my fingers resume and continue to circle and stroke my clit. I am too close to orgasm to stop and when I see you silhouetted in the light coming into my bedroom, I breathe a small sigh of relief. 

You take three steps into the room to stand at the foot of the bed, never taking your eyes off my hand, which I have been imagining is yours. I see where your attention is focused and wonder how long it will be before you touch me. I gasp at the thought of your hands actually on me, not just in my imagination. At the sound your eyes move to meet my own, and as I hold your gaze I plunge my fingers into my own wetness. A sharp inhalation comes from both of us, me at my own sudden invasion of my body and you at the sight of it. I close my eyes and stroke my fingers in and out of myself. Another minute passes; my breathing comes harsher, faster. 

I hear your clothes drop to the floor, feel your weight ease onto the bed. You grab my hand, stopping me. I moan in frustration, but then I feel your hand, just like I had imagined, teasing all around my hot, wet pussy and frustration turns to pleasure. Your hands move to my inner thighs, pushing my legs further apart and I can feel your breath as you blow lightly across my labia, my clit, it's small but engorged and sensitive, just that little bit of breath on it makes me shudder. 

The next thing I know I feel your tongue gently gliding up and down my outer labia, you have to have tasted how much I want you, I feel like I am lying in puddle. I can tell you are trying not to touch my clit, and wonder why, but I wiggle my hips a little, forcing a brief second of contact between my engorged clit and your talented tongue. You stop, lift your head and move your hands away, up my pelvis to my hips to hold them immobile. I hear myself whimper in frustration, you let out a chuckle. 

"Oh, did you want me to do something? You'll have to tell me, tell me exactly what you want"

Even naked, legs spread to your view and your touch, your words make me blush and I whimper and raise my hips a little. 

"Use your words; I want you to tell me, I want to hear you say it".

I can't move, I can't breathe or think, I freeze for a minute. My breathing is rough, almost panting; I manage to stammer out a few words.

"Oh, please, please lick my clit"

"You see, that wasn't too hard was it?" and you lower your head, your tongue flicked back and forth over my clit, then you are lapping up the moisture running out of me. 

I moan, unable to hold it in. I feel your tongue dip into my pink wet hole, writhing and darting in and out like you are trying to lick out all of my juices. And then your mouth is on my clit, I feel your lips close over it, my piercings, engulfing the whole sensitive area and then you start to suck. Hard then soft, alternating pressure over and over, your tongue flicking back and forth over me at the same time. The intensity of the two is incredible, I feel myself open up, I am empty and my body begs, aches to be filled. 

Seconds more and the pressure inside me is too much. My legs wrap around your head, pushing your face closer, deeper; my hips rise, undulating, almost grinding my pussy against your face as it convulses and gushes under your skillful ministrations. Liquid rushed out of me, dripping onto the already wet sheet as you try to lick it up before it all escapes you, your efforts making my orgasm more intense. My hips and legs start to shake and I cry out with the pleasure of it. You give up trying to lap up all of my cum and force my legs to release you.

You rise over me, settling yourself between my spread legs. I can feel the tip of your hard dick at my entrance. With agonizing slowness you push yourself into me. I can feel you stretching me, and the upward curve of your penis is causing yet more convulsions of my pussy, you groan as my muscles clench and unclench around you. Then you are all the way inside me, holding still as my hips rock up and down, around in circles, from side to side. I feel myself opening again, no longer empty, taking you further, you are touching places that have never been touched and then you start to move. 

You fuck me slowly, gently, at first, in and out, gradually building speed, until you are slamming into me, while I beg so breathless as to be almost silent for you not to stop. And suddenly I feel the pressure building again, in seconds to a point where once again I am convulsing around you. I am a throbbing cumming mass of sensitivity, when you suddenly pull out I feel bereft, empty...until you tell me to turn onto my hands and knees... 

You reach over to grab some lube and dribble it down the crack of my ass. I tremble, not in fear or apprehension, but excitement. I feel your hand slide between my ass cheeks, your fingers kneading the flesh of my buttocks, then around my asshole, relaxing me and driving me crazy. When you finally push a well lubed finger into my ass I groan, that one finger is soon joined by another, working in and out, a third finger...all three stroking in and out of my ass as they stretch me, making me able to accommodate your dick. I moan and whimper...I want you in my ass so bad.

"Do you want it?" you ask, "do you want me to fuck you in the asshole? You've got to say it; you've got to tell me"

I can't deny what I want even if I try, but saying it? Out loud? I screw up my courage, even though you've been there before I have a hard time with this, but I speak and the words pour out of my mouth.

"Yes! Please, yes, fuck my ass! I want you in my ass!" 

You groan at the words and I feel your dick slowly easing into my tight ass, gasping at the slight pop as the head of your dick passes my sphincter muscles, I can feel it opening me, going deeper and I start to rock slowly back against you, forcing you to drive a little deeper with each gentle thrust. And then I can feel your balls resting gently against my pussy. 

You hold there for a minute, catching your breath and you smear more lube around my asshole, and pull out as slowly as you drove in and I beg you to fuck me, to fuck my ass, to fill me up. You pick up your pace, and your hand comes down on my shoulder blades; pushing, holding my top half down to give you better access, I arch my back and push back to meet you stroke for stroke as best I can.

I start to feel another orgasm building, I ask you to stop, to hold still, I'm not ready yet, the sensations are overwhelming. At that you withdraw, the pop of your exit almost painful in its pleasure. You lift me, turn me over onto my back and push back into my asshole. My legs wrap around you as you stroke in and out of me, in a steady rhythm, within minutes I start to orgasm, again and again, so many times, so close together that it seems almost like one long orgasm, again I feel my own fluids dripping from my pussy. 

I reach down rub my clit from side to side and suddenly I can't control myself, I'm moaning and crying out, writhing against you. You groan that you love it when I fuck your dick with my ass and I'm cumming again, your words having set me off again. You grunt, you tell me that I'm going to make you cum in my ass, I'm incoherent, the pleasure driving all thought from my mind and all I can do is keep fucking you with my ass, keep fucking my ass with your dick, keep rubbing my clit, there are no real coherent words, I'm yelling, screaming yes! over and over and as I feel you twitch inside me, you tell me you're coming, I feel your hot cum flood my asshole, I feel your dick jump a little with each new spurt, and it sets me off again. 

When our orgasms subside you collapse on me, holding just enough of your weight not to crush me and I wrap my arms around you. We stay like that for a few minutes and catch our breaths; neither of us want to move.

"Wow" we say in unison and laugh.

Then you say, "You know, you really need to be more careful about locking your door."



Intruder on Board



Ensign Janice walked carefully down the corridor of the USS Ageman, phaser in hand. Her eyes darted back and forth in the dim hallway, one hand sweeping the gun back and forth, the other tugging at the hem of her short uniform skirt.

"Goddamn uniforms," she muttered under her breath. "Men get pants, but we get miniskirts, pantyhose and fucking go-go boots."

The announcement said that there was an intruder on board, and the small crew spread throughout the ship; she and that inept Lieutenant Collins were assigned to cover this deck, and she hadn't seen him in a while...A small noise behind her spun her around, peering into the darkness, searching. A small drop of water struck her on the shoulder, and she instinctively looked up.....

Tentacles descended upon her from out of the darkness, knocking the phase pistol from her hand and grabbing her wrists. She struggled against the creature's grip, but the harder she pulled the more tentacles descended upon her: ankles, thighs, waist and arms all wrapped in the monster's grip. She struggled, gradually becoming suspended in the middle of the corridor.

She cried out, hoping Collins would hear and come, but to no avail. As she screamed, a smaller, darker-colored tentacle passed in front of her face. She watched the thin tendril run along the front of her uniform, across her tense, hard stomach. It slid across her covered breasts, the sensation causing her nipples to strain against the uniform material. A small moan escaped her lips before she could stifle it.

Before she could cry out again, she noticed something on her uniform, where the tentacle had traced. The material was beginning to dissolve, exposing the tanned skin underneath. "Shit," she breathed, "It's not going to eat me......"

The small tendril shot down the neckline of her uniform, running along her bare stomach and inside the front of her hosiery. The material slowly parted, leaving her breasts and panties exposed. Thicker tentacles like the ones that held her began to circle her breasts, squeezing them, flicking the nipples. The cool air blew across her exposed body, gooseflesh forming along her tits and belly.

She drew in a breath to scream again, when another appendage snaked between her moist lips. The tentacle began to piston inside her mouth. The slender limb snaked down the back of her clothes, cutting the dress in half, leaving her naked, the shreds of her uniform hanging from her arms.

Her nipples became hard under the attention of the tentacles wrapping around her breasts. Her mouth began to salivate uncontrollably as the monster continued to pump her mouth. As she squirmed against the assault, one of the tentacles holding her thighs began to creep up towards her panties.

The tip of the limb brushed her damp pussy through the thin material; her body shuddered uncontrollably at the sensation. The strand slid under the fabric, running up the length of her slit, then wrapped around her panties and ripped them off. The creature dropped the fabric, and returned to her cunny, pressing against it, probing it.....a deep moan escaped from her throat around the tentacle. The monster slammed the probe inside her wet cunt, pumping her roughly.

Her body began to writhe, not struggling to escape anymore, but under the pleasure she was receiving from the monster's assault. The creature drew the limb from her mouth, saliva dripping from its tip, and her moans filled the metal corridor. The tentacle withdrew from her face, trailing moisture down her back, nearing her exposed ass. Realizing what the creature intended, she twisted, bending to expose her ass to the animal's assault.

The tentacle slid between her cheeks, circling the rosebud of her ass, eliciting greater moans of pleasure from Janice. As her final hole was violated, the creature began to fuck the Ensign even faster, pistoning her pussy and asshole, squeezing her breasts and nipples, holding her almost spread-eagled above the deck of the ship. Waves of pleasure began to wash over her, building within her, an orgasm impending.....

*ZZZZZZAAAAAAAPPPPPPP!!*

A red beam of light shot up the corridor and into the darkness above Janice. The creature shrieked and disintegrated, dropping her to the deck. Lieutenant Collins ran up and helped her to her feet, stripping off his uniform jacket and wrapping it around her.

"I'm sorry, Ensign," Collins said, averting his eyes. "I got turned around in C corridor. But I'm glad I got here when I did....the creature didn't have a chance to eat you." He grinned.

Pulling the jacket close, Janice faced Collins.....and kicked him in the balls. As he hit the deck, he looked up writhing, "WHY?" shouting from his eyes.

"You couldn't wait TWO MINUTES?!?" she screamed, stomping off. "TWO FUCKING MINUTES!!!!"



Intruder, The



The night was dark and slightly overcast. Unfortunately the whole day was stormy so the sky had no stormy left for the night. High on a hill a young man looked out his window over the grounds of his estate. With a small glass of brandy in hand he turned back to his room and shed his bathrobe as he slipped under the covers of his bed. Flipping on the local news; he chuckled at the first story he sees. "I love it when the news is about me," he mentions to no one. The cute local anchorwoman a Miss Virginia Dole was presenting a piece about the new local man bringing up the per capita income of their small town. 

"Angelo Alar has moved into the old abandoned "house on the hill" and already started renovations to the extensive manor. No one seems to know what attracted this influential young gentleman to our humble burg, but I'm sure I speak for all of us when I express a big welcome to Worthington." 

With an audible click the television goes black as Angelo shuts it off. "Must be a slow news day," he chuckled to himself. He had moved away from the hustle and bustle of New York in order to avoid seeing his face every night on the news. Although a local fluff piece is far better than the usual allegations of embezzling and other nonsense any strong businessman generally faces in the course of doing business. 

"At least no one is out to get me here," thought the young man as his eyelids started to droop. 

"Hmmm," he articulated; "I think this brandy is starting to get to me. It's only ten o' clock!" With those words still hanging in the air, he pulled his new copy of David Copperfield by Charles Dickens off of the bedside table. Despite the complete lack of any magic whatsoever; Mr. Alar decided that his purchase was not as bad as he originally thought. However, he could not remain awake much longer. Angelo was starting to put more effort into staying awake than he was to reading. So, placing the tome on his bedside table and with a big yawn; he turned out the nearby lamp and snuggled under the comforter.

Unfortunately, Angelo was not aware of the figure stalking across the massive lawn and up to his house. The humanoid shape barely perceptible against the dark night made its way up the hill and to one of the many back windows the mansion boasted. Silently it raised the window and slipped inside. 

The figure slowly and deliberately moved through the room it found itself in until it spied a stairway leading upstairs. Alighting on the landing, the dark form is guided to Angelo's room by the snores emanating from his open doorway. "Could this be any easier," the shape thought to itself. As it approached the doorway, it noticed the door wasn't open; it was missing. The renovations weren't completely on schedule, although the room appeared to be furnished well enough with a big comfy chair in the corner and the king-sized bed containing the sleeping millionaire. These were the only discernable shapes in the darkness. The moonlight slicing through the solitary window left all else in darkness. 

The intruder sidled into the room. It made a path for the foot of the bed moving carefully to avoid stepping on anything and ruining the "surprise." As the shadowed creature stepped into the light pooling at the foot of the bed it became clear it is a thin human in dark clothes. The figure reaches into its tight black top and pulls out a small blowgun. "No use wasting the heavy weaponry on a sleeping target," the trespasser thought soundlessly. However, as the assassin drew breath and released the poisoned dart from the tube; the man turned in his sleep causing the dart to affix itself to the headboard with an audible thunk.

"Shit," the assassin cursed in a barely audible yet decidedly feminine voice.

Getting a hold of herself, she reached back into her shirt to retrieve a second dart. She chided herself for the brief outburst. With a slight smile the killer thought, "I have all night." It seems fate took slight at her presumption and decided she needed to take all night. As the blowgun was once again employed, the sound sleeper pulled one of his many pillows over his head as if to block out the minimal noise the intruder brought with her. The dart smacked into the pillow but instead of going through it became embedded in the expensive memory foam pillow; nothing but the best for this young businessman.

The woman decided enough was enough. She was starting to become irked by the inability of her poisoned barbs to find their mark. She reached towards her back to pull a katana out of the scabbard attached to her back. Stepping lithely upon the bed, she turned the blade to stab at the snoozing target. Unfortunately, Angelo settled into the bed pulling the covers up around his neck. The suddenly shifting ground forced the failing assassin to become a flailing assassin as she fell backwards off the bed. She managed to catch herself on the furniture shrouded in shadow against the wall. Regrettably her sword was not as fortunate as it went spinning out the open doorway. She could see it standing up in the carpet, but as she moved to retrieve it she noticed movement from the corner of her eye.

Angelo was sitting up with his back against his pillows and headboard. "Hello there," he uttered jovially; "it's not nice to enter someone's house uninvited." 

"Well I'm being paid a good bit of money to be here," she replied.

"Still, the courteous thing to do would be to announce your presence. Although I guess you did the way you tromped up my stairs." 

"That's ridiculous I was quieter than the proverbial dead church mouse."

"Well I have very good --" Thunk, thunk, thunk. ". . . ears. You know I think that might have been even ruder. I was just getting into that book."

The assassin thinking her mark distracted had extended her arm letting loose three kunai she had hidden up her sleeve. Acting quickly Angelo had grabbed the new copy of David Copperfield off the bedside table and used it as a shield. Still, the blades were thrown with enough force to poke through the description on the back.

"Guess I should get the hardcover copy next time."

"Damn, how are you so fast?"

"I ate my vegetables when I was little, and don't forget those little Flintstone multivitamins. I'm partial to the grape ones myself. Now where was I? Oh, right." 

With one fluid motion, he pulled one of the daggers out of its mock sheath and flung it at the woman standing at his footboard. His motion was too quick for her and all she could do was stand there as she felt the wind current of the weapon as it flew over her head. 

"Ha, you missed me Mr. Vitamins."

"Try again my dear," he replied as he reached over to turn the bedside light on again.

At that moment, the failed assassin's mask fell off her face in two equal pieces to the floor. The thrown weapon, now stuck in the opposite wall, had passed close enough to slice open her hood without even cutting a single strand of hair. The exposed face was an exquisite example of exquisite feminine features. Shoulder length blonde hair glided down from where it was held to caress her neck as she glared daggers with eyes of deep purple. 

"There now," Angelo stated, "doesn't that feel better. You certainly look better without that silly mask covering yourself. Now what should I call you?"

"I'm not telling you my name!" the woman cried vehemently.

"Now now, no need to be testy I didn't ask 'What is your name?' did I? I asked what I could call you. I can't simply call you 'woman.' Then I would be about as rude as an individual who broke into some poor guy' house."

The assassin just stared evilly at the young man still sitting up in his bed smiling politely. 

"All right then I'll call you Rose. I always liked that name plus it seems fitting as you seem to have thorns sticking out everywhere my beauty." He nodded to the two remaining kunai still lodged in the book he had placed on his table to emphasize the point. 

"Well now, how about we get a better look at you my dear." Angelo pulled the corner of his comforter to the side so he could escape the sheets on his bed. As he slid out of the bed, Rose noticed he slept in nothing but a pair of flannel sleep pants. As he approached she thought she saw an opening and tried to make her move again. As she stepped forward wielding another dagger from her right sleeve, Angelo landed a light blow to her wrist sending the new weapon harmlessly into the headboard. The young man didn't stop there; he stepped into the poor woman's attack nudging her leg gently with his foot causing her to fall into him. Once she was completely off balance, he pushed her onto the bed to cushion her fall.

"I already knew one must work to avoid a Rose's thorns, but you sure are full of refresher courses," Angelo remarked jovially.

"And here you were trying to act all high and mighty. Didn't your mother ever teach you not to hit women," Rose spat.

"Awww, where's your sense of humor. Your bones are still intact are they not? And besides not to get all grade school on you but you started it," Angelo retorted. After extending his hand to the prone woman he continued, "I'll even be nice enough to help you up."

As he pulled her to her feet however; she saw another chance to attack and since she obviously did not know when to give up the ghost she took it. She came up from the bed holding Angelo's right hand in her left and tried to knock his lights out with her right. The combination of her lift off the bed and her connection to her intended victim provided nothing for her balance as her fist slid past Angelo's head and instead brought Rose up face to face with her mark in a half hug. The young man being very much both young and male took advantage of the situation to give Rose a kiss on the lips before letting her fall back onto the bed.

"And now you're molesting me."

"I did nothing of the sort. I was helping you up you're the one that wrapped your arm around me."

"I was trying to attack you," was the response with more poutiness then fire that previously infused her speech.

"Are you willing to be civil now?"

"I guess so."

With that, he reached down to pull her up off the bed again. This time when Rose got to her feet she leaned in without the previous type of attack in mind. She pulled Angelo's face down to meet hers in another kiss this time lingering a good deal longer as she gently rubbed her body against his.

"That was certainly civil," was all the breathless man could exclaim.

With those words of approval, she jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist to better facilitate kissing him deeply. "Damn you're good at this," she murmured in between assaults on his mouth. 

"What happened to killing me?" he inquired in a similar manner when they separated for breath. 

"Oh fuck killing you, this is way more fun."

He smiled into her mouth as they returned to sharing each others lips with vigor. He turned her so she could sit on the low dresser she had previously used to protect her fall what seemed like a lifetime ago. The dresser was happily about the same height she was already at except it provided greater support for her buttocks then merely Angelo's hands. Angelo took full advantage of the freedom his hands now enjoyed to explore his guest's back. He slid his hands up along the fabric of her shirt noticing no bra strap between her shoulder blades as he reached up to her neck. He gently pulled her head to his kiss flicking his tongue against her lips before sliding it into her mouth. She returned the motion as their tongues met and slowly caressed each other within their mouths.

Angelo reached above Rose's head to the dagger still imbedded in the wall since removing her mask. Pulling it out of the wall, he moved slowly away from the beauty perched on his dresser. She looked at him pleadingly to return to where he was, slightly worried that the weapon was now in his hand. 

"Sit very still my dear," he cautioned. With four deft slices, he cut a large X across her chest and two lines down her arms. The shirt fell in pieces to the dresser and floor exposing a few more darts. Angelo kicked them to the side carefully, to avoid stepping on them while he was otherwise occupied. Angelo admired his handiwork as his fingers traced the lines the kunai had followed in removing the pesky garment. Not a single cut or mark could be found on Rose's perfect skin; however, Angelo enjoyed the brief gasp that escaped from Roses lips as his fingers brushed up along her breasts and across her nipples. 

"Good thing this room isn't any colder or I might have taken one of these little beauties off with your little blade," he purred with a twinkle in his eye. Just for emphasis he brushed against her buds which began to harden due to the extra attention.  

"Oh shut up and get back in here," she demanded. Without even waiting for him to move, Rose reached out with her feet and hands to pull Angelo back to her waiting body. As they merged once more in a flurry of kisses and caresses they both enjoyed the feel of their merged chests. Even with the small amount of teasing and large amount of kissing Angelo could feel a bit of moisture against his navel where his body and hers met. Although, he realized this could easily be sweat from the exertion either pre or post romantic overtures; Angelo preferred to take this as a good sign of the coming activities. 

Even with their bodies pressed close together and their arms clasped around each other, Angelo began to spread his fingers along Rose's naked torso. Every time the tips of his fingers brushed against her breasts, squished as they were against his own, he could feel her shudder. On the rare occasion when their lips were not touching at that moment, he delighted in the gasps or moans that escaped her mouth. Rose kept herself busy as well. Both her arms and legs wrapped around the young gentleman, she slowly rubbed her calves against the small of his back. She explored every inch of his exposed back with her hands even as she slid one up to his face to tease him with feather-light touches wherever she could reach, without interfering with the connection of their lips. As she massaged his head and toyed with Angelo's hair; she decided the dresser wasn't affording enough room to play and pushed off into Angelo's arms. 

Taking the hint, he carried her backwards the few feet till they could fall together onto his luxurious bed. Allowing Rose to make herself comfortable amid his pillows, Angelo slowly approached her carefully crawling up the length of the bed while both hands slid along the outside of Rose's skin tight pants. Once his knees reached about the same point as hers, he stopped as she reached out to stroke his shoulders and arms. 

"Just to be doubly sure," he commented with that same twinkle in his eye. "I better check for any additional weapons you have tucked away."

Rose almost looked hurt before she realized exactly what this 'checking' entailed. Starting at the tips of her toes, Angelo moved both hands along Rose's foot massaging gently as he traveled up the length of her leg. He left no aspect of her covered body untouched. He kept one eye on his own movement and one eye on Rose who occasionally bit her lip slightly or gasped at his motion. As Angelo's hands made their way up Rose's left thigh, and just before the niche between his thumb and forefinger brushed against her covered crotch he moved his left hand outside her leg to continue the examination up to her waistline before slipping both hands underneath her to give her ass cheeks a good squeeze. With one pathway completed, Angelo started once again at the very tip of Rose's right toes. This time, when he reached the top of Rose's thighs he could hear an audible moan almost begging him to keep going. Again, he carefully changed the positions of his hands to explore the outside of her leg. 

Finally, he placed his hands on both of Rose's thighs as he slowly inched them inward staring straight into her eyes. Once both thumbs reached where the inseam would have been on Rose's pants, he began to inch them upward to meet the V of her legs. He could see the anticipation apparent in her eyes as he moved ever closer before he stopped on each side of her covered vagina and slid both thumbs along her crotch with a small amount of pressure. Angelo could almost feel the rush of air Rose released when she realized she had been holding her breath. He could tell the momentary contact was not enough for her though and returned to the 'search.' This time, he allowed his thumb to brush directly over her slit with just the slightest pressure as a moan of unmistakable pleasure escaped from Rose's amazing lips. Angelo smiled as he noticed just how wet this beautiful woman had gotten in the time since their first kiss. As he increases the pressure with each stroke of her covered wetness, Rose began to pant faster and faster. Finally she couldn't take anymore as she grabbed his arm and pulled him up to meet her mouth once more in an orgy of kisses. Showing great dexterity she must have previously employed in her profession, Rose used her covered toes to reach up and slide Angelo's pants off in one fluid motion as he came up to meet her.

"I was hoping you wouldn't have any annoying underwear on," she commented as she felt his erection slide against her still covered crotch. Before he could respond she covered his mouth with hers as she pulled his head down to facilitate a deep passionate kiss. Angelo began to rub against her but despite the ease with which he slid across the material encasing her legs; he felt the need to feel her bare skin against his. Reaching up to the headboard, he pulled the last dagger Rose had attempted to throw out of the wood. Releasing her lips for a brief moment, he kneeled in front of her and with two lengthy cuts of an expert swordsman the skintight pants fell from her body. With a smooth motion Angelo pulled the split garment from Rose's legs, threw them across the room, and slid back into position. As he felt his penis slide along Rose's dripping pussy, a moan escaped from them both before it was covered in the flood of kisses as their lips met once again. 

Angelo began to slide up and down against Rose's body. As their lips broke he laid his head on her shoulder to rest and concentrate on the deliberate motion of his loins. He moved his pole along Rose's vagina gently spreading her fluids along his shaft. Being mindful only to tease, he didn't want to enter her just yet. Rose had her own ideas in mind; however, as she kissed along Angelo's cheek moving to his neck. He felt her hot breath on his neck as she kissed him softly. Rose traced kisses slowly up Angelo's neck until he could both feel and hear her pant into his ear. When she took his earlobe into his mouth he almost slipped inside her too soon. He was trying to tease her for both their pleasure but Rose's action caught him by surprise. She gently nibbled and sucked on his ear until uncontrolled teasing just wasn't enough for him anymore.

He lovingly slid his hand along Rose's leg as she continued to flick her tongue across the ear trapped between her luscious lips. Shifting his weight, Angelo straddled Rose's leg as his hand made the move to the inside of her leg. Rose released his ear with the change in position only to have her oral way with his neck. As she began working on a hicky that would last for weeks; Angelo's hand reached the crux of her legs gently cupping her dripping vagina.

He hesitated only long enough to enjoy the sensation of her fluids against his palm before sliding his middle finger up and down her slit. Angelo carefully teased her with his finger along the outside of her pussy. He felt every inch of her slowly building the anticipation before pushing his finger straight into Rose's sex. Slickened by her fluids, the finger's journey was eased but was not without effect. Angelo delighted at the moan released into his neck as arcs of tingling pleasure raced through Rose's body. After the initial entrance, Angelo moved his finger in and out of Rose exploring every inch of her slowly and deliberately. Rose, feeling her growing lust for the man thrusting his finger in and out of her vagina, moved her mouth from his neck back to his lips and used her hands to hold her new lover to her body.




Intruder, The



As Angelo gently caressed both inside and outside of Rose's slit, Rose moved her hand down along Angelo's side. She inched her way between her leg and Angelo. Taking the hint he lifted himself up a bit maintaining his finger's contact within Rose's pussy. With the growing gap amid their bodies, Rose slithered into the space and encircled Angelo's rod. Her hand, slightly cool to the touch, sent shivers through Angelo's body that had nothing to do with the temperature. She began to pump her hand slowly up and down the length of his penis. Rose's movement kept time with the finger thrusting in and out of her vagina. She flicked her nails against the tip with each downward pull on the hanging pole; not enough to hurt but plenty hard enough to send quivers of excitement through the young man's body. As Angelo rapidly increased the pace of his appendage, Rose began to lose her concentration. Gradually, her hand slipped from its position, allowing Angelo to rest once more along her thigh. Angelo smiled into Rose's lips. He was becoming torn between the amazing feel of his lovers hand along his shaft and his desire to last longer. Rose's release prevented him from holding her back to keep him from cumming. With that dilemma decided he renewed his focus on Rose's pleasure.

Angelo slowly inched his finger out of its new home, but just as the tip graced the edge of her vagina he slid all the way back in to the knuckle. The sensations surging through Rose at the sudden onslaught left her gasping as her head fell back against the pillows. Angelo took this opportunity to suck one of her erect nipples into his mouth. At the same time, Angelo pulled his finger out completely only to slide it to the top of her pussy and tenderly stroke her clitoris. He flicked his tongue across her nipple keeping time with the movement against Rose's clit. As he increased both pressure and pace, Rose began to breathe faster before audible moans once again spilled from her lips. When Angelo took a breath, she pulled his face back to hers diving into him for a long kiss that nearly distracted him enough to cease movement with his hand. Instead, he slid back inside her once more and settled his finger inside enjoying the gentle caress of her love box. Finally, he retrieved his hand and slid back between her thighs. He moved his shaft up and down along her slit reintroducing it to her juices as it once again was covered in them. The motion of their hips together excited the two lovers, but Angelo felt the need to progress. 

"I'm getting hungry," he rasped. And with that thought barely expressed he pulled Rose up and switched positions with her so she sat over him. Looking up into her eyes past the hair cascading around her head he smiled; then his mouth become lost in her juices. As he lapped up the fluids flowing from her vagina, he could hear her moaning. He licked up and down her slit slowly, being sure to reach every inch of her pussy with his tongue. Alternating between licking deep to suck out the juice and flicking his tongue across her clitoris; Angelo guided himself by the sounds emanating from his lover. 

As she looked down on the young man devouring her lower lips, Rose began to get hungry herself. Slowly turning her body, she faced down the length of his body and slowly leaned over. Angelo obviously noticed the change in position but could find no reason to object, especially once Rose took his rock hard penis into her hand once again. The cool touch of her hand sent a shiver through his body as she began to stroke up and down. Rose's motion was slow and steady until a sudden shock of pleasure went through her system. Angelo in order to better taste Rose, gently pulled her pussy lips apart. As he flicked her tongue across her clit again, he slipped one of his fingers into her pussy. The joy this brought Rose temporarily froze her. She recovered quickly; however, and began stroking him once again as he slid the moistened finger in and out of her vagina. 

Rose decided that Angelo shouldn't just get to give all the oral pleasure so she flicked her tongue out to lick the tip of his penis. A happy shudder went through Angelo's body which spurred Rose on to take the whole tip into her mouth and roll her tongue around it before sliding her tongue along the top of his shaft. Angelo almost lost his rhythm at the new sensation encasing his rod. Instead, he started moving his finger faster and faster while gently sucking and licking Rose's clit. Rose took his hardened member deeper into her mouth while gently allowing her teeth to scrape against it for added stimulation. Once she reached down as far as she could, she pulled the penis completely out of her mouth and surrounded it with loving licks. She decided now would be a good time to toy with his balls as she returned the phallus to her caring mouth. She slowly pumped it in and out of her mouth matching the pace of the finger that slid in and out of her moist hole. 

Both of the lovers were approaching a grand finale. Anglo pulled his finger slowly from Rose's vagina and gently pulled her around to face him. He could no longer contain his lust as he kissed her passionately mixing her vaginal fluid with his own precum. Before he could even think of teasing her some more; Rose reached down and took hold of his penis guiding it straight into her pussy and sliding down to his balls. The lovebirds moaned together as Rose began to move up and down along Angelo's shaft. Aided by his pumping from underneath her, Rose bounced over Angelo's body faster and faster. Sensing his end coming near, Angelo grabbed her thighs holding his joystick deep within her without allowing her to move. Taking a firm grip around her waist; Angelo switched positions moving Rose onto her back. He situated his legs underneath his pillows so his feet could rest against the headboard. With this added leverage; he thrusted in and out of her snatch. He slid in and out faster and faster as the tension built within their bodies. As he slid in he pushed upwards to stimulate her clit. Rose, feeling her orgasm drawing nearer and nearer, reached down almost subconsciously to play with her clit as well. With the added stimulation Rose was quick to go over the edge into pure bliss. As she lost control of her body to her orgasm, Rose's vagina spasmed and clenched around Angelo's penis. The orgasming cunt sent Angelo clear into the abyss as he ejaculated deep into his newfound lover. 

In the afterglow of their lovemaking, Rose caressed Angelo's hair as he listened to her heartbeat. His softening member slowly slid out of Rose's vagina. Once the two lovers calmed down a bit they reached to the separate bedside tables to retrieve their wedding rings. 

"I love you so much my darling," Rose cooed.

"I love you too, my gorgeous wife," Angelo replied. He held her tightly in their king sized bed as he looked at the bit of damage they had caused in the master suite. "I guess the workmen will have a few more holes to fix when they come back in the morning."

"Well that's what we pay them for," Rose replied with a smile.

"Next time how about I get to be the intruder and you can 'fend me off?'"

"Oh?" she questioned. "You want to be the buff young burglar that breaks into my home and ravishes my poor defenseless body?"

"Sounds like a plan to me," he responded kissing her forehead.

"I think we'll need a new costume," she laughed; looking at the tatters in several areas of the bedroom.

"That's ok; I doubt I would have fit into that one anyway." 



Intruder Within



Through the screen door, I can hear the raindrops hit the patio as I stand in the kitchen. The scent of rain engulfs my senses on this hot and stormy night as I wash the few dishes that are in the sink. Peering out the small kitchen window, I can see the big drops splashing on the ground. A flash of lightening appears, brightening the yard for just a moment. The distant sound of thunder echoes in the air as the storm rapidly approaches.

I put down the dishrag and open the small window that is just above the sink. A warm breeze sweeps through the kitchen. The breeze is comforting, like an old friend...like a lost love. Reminding me of your hot breath on my neck as it catches my hair. 

Your business trip has lasted for almost two weeks now - twelve days to be exact, but who's counting I think as I return my attention to the dishes in the sink. When you phoned last night, you informed me that you would be gone for at least another five days. My heart broke as you uttered those words. I could here the disappointment in your voice as well. The thought of not seeing you is a hard pill to swallow, but I do understand the nature of your business. 

I grab the dishrag and quickly dispense with the chore at hand. Letting the water drain from the sink, I wipe off the countertop and sigh deeply as I miss you so very much. The intensity of the rain is picking up outside. The lightening and thunder are more frequent as the storm rolls in. I move to the back door and stand at the screen gazing at the wonders of Mother Nature. The breeze passing through the screen door whips under my dress catching the hem. The wind feels like a warm hand caressing me - your hand. Closing my eyes I stand in front of the screen door. The warm night air touches my body and fills me with thoughts of you and your touch. I spread my legs slightly and let the warm breeze pass between them. I lean my head back and cross my arms around my body pretending they belong to you. This works for a moment, but the sound of thunder brings me back. I wish that I could feel your strong embrace. Every inch of my soul aches for you to be home. I must be patient, I tell myself. You will be home soon.

Maybe a glass of wine will help to ease some of the melancholy I feel this evening. Moving from the door I walk across the cool white linoleum floor in my bare feet to the refrigerator. Opening the refrigerator door, I remove the bottle of wine sitting on the top shelf. Shutting the refrigerator door with one foot, I then move to the counter next to the refrigerator. Placing the bottle on the counter I reach up to grab a wine glass from the glass rack. Now I really wish you were here, as I am unable to easily get the glass down. I can here you in my mind teasing me as you always do when I need your assistance in getting an object that I have put out of my reach. Little do you know, that I enjoy watching you from behind...

Leaning up against the counter on my tiptoes, is the only way that I can even touch the glass. Stretching with all of my might, I finally get my hand on the stem of a glass. Just as I put my hand on the glass, a large bolt of lightening illuminates the sky, knocking out the power to our home. A large crash of thunder shakes the very foundation of my soul and makes me catch my breath. The thunder is so loud that I do not hear the opening and closing of the screen door. Nor do I see or hear the intruder within.

All is dark now. I am stuck in an awkward position, praying that I don't drop the glass on the kitchen floor with my bare feet showing. I curse aloud as I stand their one arm on the countertop and the other reaching for the glass. My back is to the intruder unaware that he is watching my every movement...watching and waiting.

With some difficulty I manage to retrieve the glass and place it on the counter without having it shatter into a million pieces on the floor. I then move along the counter feeling my way to the utility drawer looking for the lighter. On this dark and stormy night I will have to make do with the light of a candle or two. No telling when the power will be back on, as the storm continues to rage on outside. 

Locating the handle of the utility drawer, I open the drawer to find the contents all chaotic. I move things around in the dark until my hand feels what should be the lighter. Another flash of lightening blazes across the sky making enough light for me to see that I have indeed found what I am searching for. I reach quickly for the candle that is sitting on the small shelf right in front of me before all of the illumination escapes from the last bolt of lightening. As I light the three-wick candle the sound of thunder can be heard throughout the house.

My thoughts are of you as I move back to my glass. What a night to be without you. The light from the candle helps to ease some of my fear as I hate storms. I need to relax and let the wine work its magic. Let its intoxicating bouquet take me away from this stormy place, if only in my mind.

I reach for the bottle of wine and remove the cap. The entire time the intruder is watching and waiting. Maneuvering without a sound to a hiding place in the kitchen. Concealing his identity by hiding in the shadows. I begin to pour the remaining contents of the wine into my glass. There is just enough wine to fill my glass one time. 

I am not much of a drinker this glass will settle my nerves very quickly. Half a glass will have me feeling no pain in a few minutes and then I will make my way upstairs to take a hot bath to wash away the loneliness I feel tonight. I wish you were here to share my bath...to share our bed...to have my body.

I take a sip of wine and place the glass back on the counter. It feels cool sliding down my throat. I close my eyes and listen to the wind as it passes through the open window of our home. The scent of the candle begins to fill the air as the flickering light dances off the walls. The sound of the rain and the cool feeling of the wine are beginning to have a soothing effect on me. I can feel some of the tension ease as the wine makes its journey downward. How sweet it tastes and how comforting it feels. I stand there for just a moment longer as the breeze from the back door rushes in and catches the bottom of my dress once again whipping it high around my thick thighs. Taking an even larger sip of wine, I begin to let my mind wander to thoughts of your homecoming, the pleasure that we will share. Setting the glass back on the counter, I realize that I am almost done with the entire glass in record time. 

I close my eyes as the wine makes it way down and warms my spirit a bit. I look at the glass still on the counter and see that I have just one swallow to go. All of a sudden, a cold shiver runs down my spine. I shrug it off as the sound of thunder rumbles across the sky. The sound of thunder catches me a bit off guard as I drain the final contents of the glass. A few droplets miss my mouth and land on the counter. My back is still towards the intruder who is watching very closely as I consume the final remnants of wine. Watching and waiting, he hides in the corner as I turn towards the sink. Walking over I place the empty glass in the sink and reach for the dishrag. I turn without noticing him standing in the corner. Walking back across the cool floor I reach for the empty bottle. The intruder makes his presence known...

He grabs both of my arms from behind. Dropping the dishrag to the floor as the surprise and pain consume me. I never see his face. His strong hands dig into both of my arms as he jerks me backward towards him. My back is up against his chest and his chin is resting in my hair. I can hear his breathing and my heart is racing with fear. My head begins to spin as my mind takes in what is happening. He whispers in my ear to be quite and not make a sound. The fear and terror that I feel paralyze my vocal chords and I cannot utter a word in protest. All I can manage to do is nod in compliance. He urges me forward toward the counter, never letting go of my arms. The back of my dress is now wet from being up against him...he must have come from outside...during the storm, but when...how... My mind is racing. 

At the counter his grip tightens on my arms and he instructs me in a whisper to put my hands behind my back. The fear I feel consumes me as I am unable to move my hands and place them behind my back. Will he hurt me for not doing as I am told? My mind is a blur as I stand in the kitchen. I am trying to get my arms to move, but they are not cooperating. After what seems like a lifetime, I finally get one arm to move and I place it slowly behind my back; evidentially not fast enough for he reaches down and grabs my arm harshly and pulls it behind me. I begin to yell out in pain, but he instructs me to be quiet or else... Or else what I think...

He places a restraint of some sort around my wrist. He then grabs my other arm and pulls it behind my back. I can feel the restraint as he places it over my second wrist and ties them together. What does this man want and why is he here? Where did he come from and how could I not have heard his intrusion into our home?

He completes immobilizing my hands quickly and skillfully. The restraints are tight. I can feel them rubbing my skin. He then pulls me close to him again. He takes in the scent of my hair. I can feel his hot breath as he inhales and exhales. He lets my arms go as I stand with my back to him.

Suddenly, I here the sound of tearing or ripping behind me. What is he tearing I wonder? Within seconds that question is answered, as he slips his hands and arms over my head and places a piece of tape over my mouth. His breath is warm on my neck and I can feel his chest up against my upper back. His chest is strong and firm. I can feel it rising and falling as he completes gagging my mouth. How will I survive? My mind clouds and my thoughts are unclear. I must try to remember every little detail about him - if I live. I must keep a calm head...but how when the horror I feel is overwhelming every inch of me.

The storm is still raging outside and the battle for survival is just beginning inside. Suddenly another bolt of lightening streaks across the sky. From its brightness I can see his shadow against the wall. He is massive I think, much bigger then me. The fear is devastating as my heart races and pounds strongly against my chest. My knees are weak and I feel that my legs will not support me much longer. But I must not give into unconsciousness; I must stay in control and remember all that I can about him. His touch, his smell, his words, his actions... I must not forget a single moment. I must manage my fear if I am going to survive.

Pulling me close to him once again, I can feel that my head rests just under his chin. He is rubbing the sides of my arms and inhaling deeply as he takes in the scent of my hair once again. My head is on his chest and I can feel his manhood in the small of my back. I 

now know what he wants... My heart grows sick with the thought of him touching me, having his way with me. Instantly my stomach turns to knots. A gasp is caught in my throat, that only I can hear, as I realize what will happen. My mind is reeling. How can I stop him? How can I get away?

He releases my arms and steps back for a moment, maybe to get a look at his handy work. I begin to turn my head to get a glimpse of him; he steps up behind me and snaps my head forward with his powerful hands and tells me to stand perfectly still until he instructs me further. His voice is a whisper in my ear, however the supremacy in which he speaks makes me obey. He is so close to me that I can feel the heat radiating from his body.

Without any warning everything goes dark, as he places a blindfold over my eyes. No more glow from the candle whose scent is filling the air, no more lightening flashing into the kitchen where I am now held captive by this man...this intruder. No opportunity for me to identify him. Complete and total darkness is all that is before me. The intruder thinks of everything. I can not make a sound, I am unable to fight him off with my bound hands and I can not see to identify him. I realize at that moment, that I am totally vulnerable to his desires...to his wants...to his needs. I feel defenseless and alone as the tears begin to slowly slide down my cheeks. 

Grabbing my shoulders, he turns me around to face him. Tears are peaking out from underneath my blindfold, as fear grips my very essence. How can I not show my fear when I am terrified? I am unable to stop the flow of water from my eyes. I feel a finger on my cheek wiping away the tears that are slipping down my face. He whispers in a low voice for me not to cry. He states that he will not hurt me if I do as I am told. Everything will be all right...as soon as he is done with me.

His voice is soothing as he speaks to me, but his final words, "done with me" linger in my mind. "Done with me", keeps repeating in my head as I stand in front of him. The fear that grips my spirit at that moment is unbearable. How will I maintain? How will I survive? I can feel my chest heaving up and down and the panic racing through my entire body. I can hear him moving around in front of me and behind me. Unfamiliar sounds are coming at me from all sides. He seizes my shoulders as he pulls me roughly away from the counter. Placing me in the middle of the kitchen floor, I can feel his movement as he walks around me in a circle, his eyes probably never leaving my body. He suddenly stops and stands directly in front of me, so close I can smell the clean scent of rain on his body. I have no idea what he will do to me next and I shudder at the thought. The first sound that I can distinguish clearly besides the thunder, is the sound of a belt buckle unfastening. The second sound is a zipper being undone. The sounds are deafening as I catch my breath. The rustle of clothes being taken-off and landing on the floor is the next sound that I can clearly make out. I knew in an instant that he must be standing naked before me. He must be hard and erect. How much longer before he would be inside of me? Forcing his cock into my soft wet pussy...having his way with me.

My thoughts quickly turn to you for I could not bare another thought of what is about to transpire. I must focus on our last night together in order to get through this ordeal. I have to use my mind to block out his touch. Remembering our final evening together before you left on your trip. I have to find a way to cherish what we have together; to not let the current set of circumstances tarnish the love that we have for one another. How will you feel when you discover that another man has taken what is yours? How will I explain this to you? I can already see the hurt in your eyes, the rage in your heart...

He steps close to me again and places a finger to my cheek as a another tear escapes the confines of my blindfold. I can feel the heat of his body as he stands before me. His next few words are low and deliberate as he informs me that he is going to remove the tape from my mouth. He instructs me to not make a sound. Placing his hand to my face, he grabs a corner of the tape and with one swift move, removes the tape. The sting runs deep...

For a brief moment I feel like I have a chance, a chance to survive. I'm thinking that possibly I can reason with him. Make him see that this is wrong and that his leaving presently is all I want. I believe that I can convince him that I will not say a word about his arrival to our home. After all, I know nothing about him; I have no way to identify him. However, before I can gather all my thoughts and utter a word, he quickly snatches me towards his chest. He whispers in my ear for me to use my full lips to kiss his chest. I begin to utter a protest, but he inserts his strong hands into my hair and pulls me head back sending pain down my neck. I instantly knew that his eyes see the fear on my face. In his low voice he instructs me not to make a sound removing one hand from my hair and tracing my lips with a single finger. I am beside myself with fear and shock from the sudden movement. I can only obey his instructions. Again he orders me to kiss his chest as he places his free hand back in my hair. His fingers intertwine in my hair as he pulls my face towards his chest.

What can I do to stop him? I can feel my face getting closer to his bare chest. I can feel the heat of his body as he continues to pull my lips closer to him. The sound of thunder echoes in my ears as I make a weak attempt at resisting. The strength in his hands and the determination in his mind is no match for me. My head is starting to spin as I feel the effects of drinking the wine too quickly. Me feeble effort at resisting is rapidly coming to an end. 

I have no other choice but to put my full lips on his chest. Kissing him and licking his bare skin. Tasting and teasing him with the touch of my lips and the light caress of my tongue. I hear him breath in and out deeply as I pleasure him. His heart is pounding vigorously through his strong smooth chest. I can actually feel it as my tongue takes on a life of its own, exploring and tasting this intruder. His hands are still in my hair guiding my movements with precision.

I feel the hardness of his nipple as I allow myself to linger over the protrusion for a moment. Tightening and loosening his grip in my hair as I arouse a pleasure point for him. His voice is barely audible as he instructs me to take his nipple fully into my mouth. He never relinquishes his hold on me as he enjoys the sensation my mouth provides. His nipple responds eagerly to my lips. The taughtness is unmistakable. He guides my face along the middle of his broad chest as he seeks to have my lips on his other nipple. I can hear his moans of pleasure as I continue to tease and please him. His excitement rings in my ears. I can feel his now hard cock through my dress as his nipples are not the only portion of his body I'm arousing. My thoughts are no longer my own as I leave a blazing trail of sensuous kisses across his chest. 

He bends and whispers quietly into my ear how much he is enjoying the talents of my tongue. I feel ill as his words reach my heart. He quickly moves his hands to the top of my shoulders, releasing his hold on my hair. He instructs me to get on my knees. Appling pressure to the tops of my shoulders he pushes me down towards the floor. My thoughts are of you and how I am betraying our love. He is making me do things that I only want to do with you. Ever so slowly I bend down, the tears now streaming uncontrollably down my cheeks, my body shaking with each sob. Going unheard are my appeals for him to stop. I am too afraid to say a word. My mind is screaming for him to stop - for him to leave!

He urges me to open my mouth. I want to object, but he grabs a handful of my hair and lifts my head up towards him. My mouth opens wide once his hands snarl my hair. He takes his other hand and guides his massive cock into my mouth. He commands me to suck him. He pulls my head back and forth over his cock. I can feel it growing in my mouth with every stroke. My knees began to ache from the hard surface of the kitchen floor and my shoulders throb from my hands being tied behind my back. I just want him to end this nightmare...to leave me alone, but he stays... He keeps punishing me with his cock...with his hands...with his voice. He drives himself deeper and deeper into my mouth as my lips wrap fully and snuggly around his manhood.

Without mercy, he continues his assault on my mouth. Slowly at first, allowing me the discontent of feeling the full width and length of him in my mouth. In and out he slides his tool. Making sure to hit every inch of my mouth. He skillfully maneuvers himself within the confines of my lips and mouth. Never rushing himself. Always in complete control. Enjoying the sensation that I must be generating by sucking him. He penetrates deep inside my mouth causing his erection to touch the back of my throat. I can hear his moans of delight as I gag on his enormous erection. I can hear his words of encouragement to take it all, ringing in my ears. My head is spinning as I can feel the full effect of the wine and the pressure of his hands in my hair.




Intruder Within



He whispers instructions for me to follow. His voice, very decisive as his demands reach my ears. Releasing his swollenness from my mouth, he orders me to lick his balls with my tongue. His fingers dig deeper in my hair as I hear his moans of desire and his shortness of breath. The arousal growing within his loins with each flick of my tongue. 

Being blindfolded, on my knees in my own kitchen with my hands tied behind my back and an intruder masterfully manipulating me into his whore, leaves me helpless and beaten. I do as he commands. I lick his manhood with the skill of a cat cleaning her coat. I let my lips message his scrotum and my tongue to dance around his testicles. The sounds of pleasure emitting from him, surpass the sounds of the raging storm outside. His commands are continuous. His dominance total...

He rewards my skillfulness in pleasing him with verbal compliments. Plunging in and out of the depths of my mouth...his erectness seemingly endless. Pulling his cock out of my mouth so that I can tease the head with my tongue, the familiar flavor of salt touches my taste buds. His moans of ecstasy are audible to me as I taste the pre-cum in my mouth. I know the delight he is feeling as I stimulate his cock. He is enjoying every suckle, every lick, every touch of my lips. He enjoys all that I give to you and you alone. 

His moans of pleasure replace the sounds of the storm. I can no longer hear the thunder. I can only hear his voice, his pleasure as he pushes and pulls himself in and out of my mouth. My instinct to survive outweighs any act that I might perform to please him. I have to survive... How much longer? How much more can I stand? My jaws ache from trying to fit all of his manhood in my mouth. He whispers in my ear what a perfect mouth I have. He informs me of how good his cock feels hitting the back of my throat. I can feel the movement of his hips as he thrusts his member in and out of my mouth. He pulls me so that his cock will go deeper within my mouth several more times and then suddenly lets go. 

 His breathing is rapid. I can hear him step back. I can feel him standing over me as I slump down on the floor. I am still on my knees as I realize the assault on my mouth has ceased for the time being. My jaws are weary from the ordeal, my knees and wrist have lost all feeling as I attempt to rest on the cool kitchen floor. 

Within a few seconds I feel him step towards me again. Feeling dizzy from fear and wine, all I am able to do is lay on the floor and wait. He reaches down and places his hands under my arms in order to put me on my feet. He asks if I am all right...as if he really cares. Of course I'm not all right I want to scream at him! I begin to answer him with a flurry of cuss words, but think better of it. By the time my head clears and I am able to control my rage, he grabs me roughly and turns me away from him.

My feet respond very slowly as he pushes me. He then whispers in my ear one simple word, "walk". At his command my feet react. I have no idea what to think. My mind races with all kinds of scenario's for what will transpire next. ...none of them good.

Grabbing me, he steers me by my arms, guiding me to a small table that stands in the center of the kitchen. I can feel the heat of his body as he steps up behind me. Once again he inhales deeply. His voice is a deep whisper as he tells me to bend over the table. The fear that I feel at that moment paralyzes my body. I can not move. I'm frozen in time. Standing even closer to me he repeats, "Bend over." I can hear his voice, his instructions, I just can't get my body to obey. No longer willing to wait for me to do as I'm told, he wraps one arm around my waist and places his other hand in the middle of my back pushing me forward onto the table.

He moves his leg in between my legs in order to pry them apart. My legs now spread before him, are unsteady at best. My face is flat on the cool surface of the table. My arms stinging from being secured behind my back. With all that is happening to me, I can since the enormous amount of pleasure he is having at my expense. The control he has over me as he is able to dictate my every move.

Placing both of his strong hands on my ass, he begins to slide them up and down my roundness. I can here his sounds of appreciation for what is now in his possession. He whispers that I have a nice ass as his hands continue their exploration. No response comes from my lips. My vocal cords are frozen. The tears flow from my eyes once again. I think to myself, not much longer now. He will be inside of me shortly...hurting me...taking me. Pushing his cock deep inside my pussy. The cock I made erect just moments ago with my mouth.

Moving even closer to me, he continues to caress and knead my ass. The heat from his hands radiates through my clothing. The head of his manhood presses firmly on the flimsy material of my dress. His hands keep up their assault as he gropes my ass and starts to make inaudible sounds. The sounds are very familiar... 

My heart sinks as I feel him in one smooth motion, slip his hands down to the hem of my dress and lift it over my hips. For a few moments I feel nothing. No touch of his hand. No sense of him being close to me. The quiet before the storm... Without any warning, I feel his hands back on my ass. He is uncomfortably close this time as I can feel his cock protruding against the fabric of my panties.

Grabbing another handful of my ass, he leans over the top of me in order to reach with his other hand to move my hair from my face, exposing my neck. I feel his lips as he kisses the back of my neck. His handling of me although in an awkward position is almost tender - loving. His kisses are like fire on my skin. The wetness from his lips leaves its mark on my neck and on my inner self. The tenderness that he is now exhibiting towards me is confusing. His tongue expertly explores my neck and his hand is methodically placing just the right amount of pressure on my ass. The frenzy of desire that sweeps over me is unbearable. 

How can his hands afford such tenderness? How does he know just where to place his kisses of desire? My mind is playing tricks on me as I reel from all that is happening. There is no way that this outsider can arouse the sexual cravings that I have tucked away until you return. ...but he is... I can feel my arousal growing. 

The realization that his touch is making me hot brought me back to reality. His kisses scorch my skin. My body willingly relaxes. He is able to seduce my body into a frenzy of pleasure and pain. The pleasure of his touch...the pain that it is not your touch. The constant rubbing of his cock against my ass, now made sounds of desire emit from my lips. I could even feel my pussy preparing for him. My body with every touch, with every smoldering kiss is betraying me. ...betraying you. 

He is so close to me. I can tell that he wants to be inside of me. I'm aware that he will not stop until he is pushing his pulsating member in my hole and filling every inch of me with himself. His rubbing of my ass persists as he brings his hips forward so that his hard cock can rest between my pussy lips. Only the material of my panties keeps me from feeling the full extent of his endowment. I can feel his hardness as he moves his hips forward and backward. My panties give little protection from the sensation of feeling a hard cock on my clit. He enjoys making me hot and wet for what seems like an eternity. 

He suddenly speaks to me in a tone that is unfamiliar. Warm and passionate... His whisper-harsh voice non apparent. A crash of thunder rolls across the heavens as he speaks to me, masking any kind of vocal recognition. I can not speak back to him. I can not tell him how wonderful and exhilarating it feels to have him so close to me. I'm unable to tell him of the sensations that are rippling all over my body. 

My crotch is wet with my own pussy juices. I want to scream as my body responds eagerly to his touch. I want to run as my body relishes his touch. I want to die as I let down the man I love. I want my body to stop divulging my hidden need right now, but his touch is electrifying, so precise - like he knows my wanting. He places his hands on my wrists as he continues to stimulate my pussy. He gently pulls me toward him in one motion, as he thrusts up against me in another. He informs me in my ear that he is going to remove the restraints. My instant thought is, now I have a chance. But a chance for what? To get away or to stay... I almost feel that I want him to take me. My confusion is evident as I wrestle internally with my own demons. What am I thinking? I must want to get away... I simply must, right? 

His voice no longer a whisper as the wind whips outside. He orders me not to try anything. I know that at my first opportunity I must try to escape. Try to get help. It's the right thing to do. But his touch is so inviting. His kisses very warm and passionate. His cock is ready for me. I am sure that he can sense my hesitation; the dilemma that is put before me. I nod in agreement to behave once my hands are free. I really need to keep my wits about me. Think with my mind and not with my body. Be strong for myself, for us, for you...

With my hands still bound he places one hand on my bound wrists, as he slides his other hand down to my crotch and pulls my soaked panties to one side. I can feel the warm air caress my womanhood. The dampness is glistening on my plump pussy lips. He affords me no warning as he plunges his fingers inside my hot spot. The pain that shoots through me as he pushes his fingers deep inside my tight pussy is over quickly. All along he has been preparing me. 

I can here his moans of pleasure as he probes my hole with his fingers. ..pushing deeper and deeper inside of me. He moves his fingers rhythmically in and out of my hole, testing my tightness. His agile fingers fill my hole with every insertion. My eyes are shut tight behind the blindfold as if to block out the pain and pleasure that is surging through my body. The invasion of my womanhood by him is complete and precise.

Inserting his fingers all the way inside of me, he moves them in small circles in order to heighten my pleasure and prolong my agony. He flicks his tongue inside my ear, making me want to simply scream. The ecstasy he is creating only strengthens my resolve to get away. I have to find a way. Currently I can not stop my juices from flowing or my heart from racing. I can not stop the feeling of elation that is building in my loins and beyond.

He suddenly removes his fingers from my twat. His deep whisper of a voice returns as he informs me of how hot and wet I feel. A shiver runs down my spine as the overwhelming feeling of familiarity floods my mind. I can sense he is watching my every move as his fingers resume sliding in and out of my dripping pussy. I can hear him moan with delight ... or is that me? 

My lips let loose the sounds of passion. He is able to here me over the storm and maintains his ambush of my pussy. I now want to feel his fingers inside me as I began to move my hips in time with his plunging fingers. Placing his thumb on my swollen clit, he proceeds to rub the heart of my womanhood in a circular motion. ...creaming me for his amusement. 

He works diligently at possessing my pussy and the liquid lava that flows from deep within. He asks me if I enjoy all that he is doing? His hot breath right in my ear. I have no other choice but to speak a single word of yes, as my moans and my dripping pussy attest to the fact that I am enjoying his touch. 

Still torturing my pussy with pleasure he takes his free hand and removes my restraints. One hand is free and I quickly place it on the tabletop. The weight of him resting on my back as I place my hand to brace myself. Suddenly he removes his fingers from my pussy and replaces them with his bulging cock. The hurt and pain pierce my soul as my assailant slides himself inside of me. A momentary sense of relief flows over me as I realize that what I have dreaded is now taking place. The actual feeling of enjoyment races through my inner spirit as the intruder slides his engorged cock in and out of me. But, how can this be?

He is inside of me - like I knew he would be. He is pulling my hips on him. The sound of my wet pussy can be heard over the storm. Our cries of passion are heard through the screen door. He fucks me harder and harder. I only have my hands to brace myself as the force of him being inside me moves the small table. He pulls me on him with the urgency of a lover who has been deprived. His taking of me is savage, yet he prepared me - made me wet and hot with wanting. He has taken his time - much like you.

His assault is persistent and complete once he is inside of me. My screams of passion out weigh my screams of pain. His hot breath on my neck. His hands on my waist, pulling and urging me to consume his entire cock inside my hot wet pussy. My blindfold still on. My breath coming in short bursts. How does he know me so well? 

How can he invade me? How can he make me want to cum over and over again? His warm kisses caress my skin. His hands are all knowing when it comes to exciting me. His cock fits me so well after his initial penetration. The feeling of familiarity is overpowering this time as I try to struggle with my arousal, my excitement, my shame. I can no longer ignore this feeling.

I attempt to think as I feel each stroke of passion fill my wanting pussy. This is no intruder I think. For he knows me too well. This has to be, it can only be...my love! Who else would know me so well? Know how to please me in every way. Be a little rough with me, but know exactly how far to take it. Know how to plunge deep into my cavern and fill it so completely with himself. I reach for the blindfold that has hidden the truth from my eyes. I turn my head as a flash of lightening blazes a trail across the stormy sky to see you and feel you explode inside me as a burst of thunder echoes in the air. Our eyes meet. I can feel your hot cum flowing from your manhood and I too must let go of the passion that has built up for the past couple of weeks and on this stormy night.

I cum on your cock and realize that you are my 'intruder within'.



Intruders



Heavy rain hammered loudly on the roof of our porch. Strong winds whipped through the mesh screening, blowing the heat of the summer day quickly away. The wind pushed raindrops through the screen, vaporizing the droplets into a fine, refreshing mist. The random lighting strikes that brilliantly lit the night-time sky were quickly followed by deafening claps of thunder. The room was pitch black, interrupted only by the persistent flashes of bright white light. Being out in the elements, experiencing the power of mother nature was intensely stimulating.

Making love outdoors, during a raging thunderstorm is possibly one of the most erotic experiences there is. Tonight was a perfect chance for us to take advantage of the situation. The kids were sleeping over at friends houses, and the electricity was out. There was nothing to do, but ride out the storm.

We had just finished smoking a joint, and I had excused myself to dress more appropriately for the activities about to follow. Getting stoned always makes Julie uncontrollably horny. Normally, she dresses and acts the part of the quaint little school-marm, but, in the right situation, and with a little weed to help her shed her inhibitions, she becomes just the opposite of her day time persona. Her transformation from prude to nasty slut is an incredible turn on. 

I stopped in the porch doorway for a moment to enjoy the scenery and savor the coming moments. Julie was leaning on the screen sill, wind blowing through her hair, watching the storm. Her beautiful little butt swayed back and forth, enticing me to come closer. 

I moved in behind her, wrapped my arms around her waist, and gently pushed my pelvis against her soft buttocks. She instinctively stood up on her toes, causing my semi-erect penis to lodge against her pubic region. She purred quietly as she brushed herself against my manhood. 

I pulled up on the legs of her shorts causing her to arch her back and bring more of her delicate little flower in contact with the bulge that it craved so desperately. A bolt of lighting split the darkness, highlighting her wicked smile. I could tell by the brief look in her eye that her transformation was complete. She reacted to the loud thunder that immediately followed the white flash of the lightening by driving her soft spot into me. The thin material between us was the only thing that prevented insertion. I whispered in her ear, “Why don’t you go change into something sexy while I make us a drink?” 

She turned, kneeled down in front of me, and without ever breaking eye contact, pulled my cock from my shorts and inserted it into her mouth. It stiffened like a rock between her warm, wet lips.

With saliva still dripping from the corners of her mouth, she stood and gave the hottest, deepest kiss that I can remember. 

She stroked my stiff rod while her tongue explored my mouth. 

She then put her mouth up against my ear, and with the hottest, sultriest breath that she could muster she purred ...

“My cunt is on fire! It needs a nice big hard cock to fuck it. I’d do anything for a big hard cock right now! Anything!” 

She bent down and kissed the end of my now throbbing rod. 

“I just love a good hard cock!” She assured me as she left to get changed. 

She rarely takes charge of the situation like that. 

“Whew!!” I thought to my self. “This is going to be great!”

I quickly made us a couple of drinks and returned to the screened-in porch. 

I paced like a caged tiger in anticipation of her return.

My dick remained in a half excited state. 

I tried to listen for her return, but it was raining too hard. 

I thought I heard a knock on the door, but just shrugged it off. 

Then it happened again. 

‘Oh shit!” I thought. “What the hell could this be?’ 

I opened the door to find two soaking wet black men standing on the stoop. The smaller of the two, (who was at least six feet tall, but was dwarfed by his companion) explained that their car had broken down, and that my house was the closest place, and asked if they could come in and use the phone. 

Grudgingly I agreed to let them in, knowing that it was the right thing to do, but none the less cursing them under my breath.

I opened the door, thinking I would show them to the phone, and then go warn Julie that we were not alone anymore. But, as quickly as the second man enter the porch, there was the barrel of a pistol shoved up under my chin. 

“Just shut up, and you won’t get hurt!” The smaller of the two said as he motioned for his friend to move me over to the couch. 

They sat me in the corner of the couch, tied my hands behind my back, tied my feet to the legs of the couch and then tied a rope around my neck and to the frame of the couch. I wasn’t going anywhere. 

The little one took the pistol from the big one and motioned him to check the rest of the house. 

“Any noise out of you, and I’ll blow your fucking head off! Got it?” He whispered, knowing that I wasn’t the only one home. 

I just nodded affirmatively and quietly waited.

The big one was waiting, and as Julie emerged from the bathroom, he grabbed her from behind. She kicked and screamed and struggled, but to no avail. He was much bigger and stronger than she was. With ease he carried her kicking and struggling to the porch. 

“Look what I found , Roy!” 

He put her down and held her hands behind her back, she struggled to break free. 

The big guy smiled. “And she’s a feisty one!” 

Julie struggled even harder. 

“Let go of me, you bastard! Let go!” she hollered. 

“Shut up!” Roy commanded. 

When she saw the gun under my chin, she froze. 

“That’s better,” he said as he moved towards her. 

Julie was wearing a short, Japanese silk robe, tied at her waist with a silk belt. The robe was loose above the belt from her struggling. It was plain to see that she wasn’t wearing a bra. 

“Well, well, well! What do we have here? Looks like you were expecting us!” He mused as he reached for her belt. 

“Don’t touch me you bastard!” She defiantly spatted. 

He raised his hand and slapped her with a backhand across the cheek. 

“Look here you little piece of white trash. I make the rules around here, and rule number one is this: if you don’t do exactly as I say, pretty boy over there is going to get his head blown off! Understand!” 

She nodded reluctantly. 

He reached for her belt a second time, and she remained silent and motionless. 

“Now that’s a good girl.” He commended her as he loosened the knot and pulled the belt away. 

With her hands still being held behind her back, her robe opened, exposing her firm milky white breasts. She was wearing nothing but a shear white pair of panties, thigh-high black fish nets and 4" spiked heels. 

“Mmm, Mmm, Mmm!!!” 

“Looks like we hit the jackpot here! You’re one fine lookin’ little momma! Damn Jim!” He exclaimed. 

“Look at the size of those nipples! You likes those big nipples, don’t you Jimmy?” 

The big guy grinned and shook his head. 

“You wanna touch those titties don’t you? Go ahead Jimmy, touch ‘em.” 

Jim let go of her hands, reached around and cupped both of Julie’s breasts in his big black mitts, and then proceeded to roll her nipples between his fingers. She closed her eyes so that she didn’t have to look at me. 

It wasn’t long before both of her nipples stiffened. 

“Hold her hands behind her back again,” Roy barked, “It’s my turn.” 

Jim grabbed her by the wrists and pulled backwards causing her back to arch and her chest to stick out even farther. 

“Damn!” Roy exclaimed as he lowered his lips onto one of her stiff nipples. He licked and sucked both of her nipples delicately, causing them to pucker even more. Her breathing shortened, and her chest heaved in and out. I could tell that the weed hadn’t completely worn off. 

“You like that, don’t you?” He chided.

She remained silent. 

“Jimmy, set her on the couch over there, over by her husband.” 

He set her down right next to me on the couch, but didn’t tie her up. 

“Now take this gun, and hold it against the white boy’s head. If either of them does anything funny, if she even moves, blow his brains all over her pretty little face.” 

Roy (the apparent leader) got up and left the room.

The storm raged on. Lighting flashes illuminated the room frequently and brightly, while the thunder boomed ominously. The flashes illuminated Julie’s scantily clad body as if it were a beacon. Jimmy’s grin broadened with every glimpse of my wife’s tiny little pure white body. Jim couldn’t keep his eyes off of her and she knew it. Julie shivered with fear.

Roy finally returned and sat down at the other end of the couch next to Julie. He put his hand behind her head, grabbed her at the base of her long blonde hair and turned her face towards his. 

“You people have got a lot of expensive toys around here. T.V.’s, stereo’s, CD players, and that silver set in the dining room, I’ll bet that’s worth a fortune. Damn! I don’t know as if I got the time to carry all that good stuff out!”

“Then I got to thinkin’...... Ya know, I’ll bet that foxy little lady gots a lot of expensive jewelry. So I found my way upstairs to your bedroom. You’ve got a lot of interesting stuff up in that bedroom of yours, don’t you?” he remarked as he produced a pearl necklace. “I especially like this little number.” He continued. 

“Let’s see what it looks like on you.” He said as he reached around her neck and fastened the clasp. 

He fondled her neck gently as he straightened the necklace.

“Beautiful, just beautiful. Doesn’t she look beautiful Jimmy?” Jimmy just nodded. 

He put his hand behind her head again, grabbed her by the hair, and with his free hand lifted her chin so that her eyes were looking directly into his. He moved his face close to hers and spoke. 

“With all the wonderful things in this house I could have, I finally decided on what I want. I want the same thing as you!” 

He lifted her chin and placed his lips against hers. 

She refused to kiss him back. 

He tried to pry her lips apart with his own, but could not. 

Realizing that he was strong enough to hold her with only one hand, he dropped his hand from her chin and slid it down to her neck. He caressed her neck, slowly working his way downward. He fondled her breasts and her nipples puckered, but she still wouldn’t open her lips and accept his kiss. He pulled away and looked her in the eye. 

“I thought we had an understanding! Jimmy......” 

Jimmy’s thumb reached back and cocked the trigger. 

“Don’t do it Julie, don’t do it!” I pleaded. 

“Well, what’s it going to be girly!” He shouted angrily. 

She closed her eyes and puckered her lips. He moved in for the kiss. This time there was no resistance, she greeted his tongue and welcomed it into her mouth. She was done fighting him.

They kissed her for what seemed like an eternity. 

“Oh baby, you’re one hot little bitch! I’ll bet you don’t kiss that white boy like that!”

She had that wicked look in her eye again. All of a sudden, she didn’t look afraid. 

“Whew!, It’s gettin’ hot in here! I’m gonna have to get me out of these wet clothes.” He remarked as he stepped off the couch. 

He continued to talk as he unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his muscular brown chest. 

“Ever see a black man naked before?” He teased her. 

“No.” was her reply. 

“You want to see me naked, don’t you?” 

She remained silent. 

“I asked you a question, bitch! Remember the rules? You answer me when I tell you!, Now, do you want to see me naked?” 

“Yes” she replied correctly. 

He dropped his trousers exposing a slender, limp seven inch cock. 

He moved closer to her. 

“Look at my dick!” he ordered. 

Her eyes focused on his hanging flesh. 

“I’ll bet your old mans dick ain’t this big. Whose dick is bigger, mine or his?” 

“Yours.” she replied with an embarrassed tone.

“You want to suck my big black cock, don’t you?” 

She again remained silent. 

“Say it!” he commanded. “I want to suck your big black cock,” she repeated nervously. 

“You hear that Jimmy? She wants to suck my cock! Well, I guess I’m going to have to oblige the little lady!” 

And with that he kneeled on the couch, grabbed her again by the hair, held his dick in his hand and brought it to her lips. 

“Suck it, Bitch!” 

She opened her mouth and the tip of his limp penis slid past her lips. She had never had a dick in her mouth that was this big, let alone a black one. As much as she wanted to close her eyes, she couldn’t. She was mesmerized by his cock and she was awed at her own willingness to so readily accept it. 

She began to work it in her mouth. She bobbed back and forth on the head, occasionally letting it slip from her mouth just so that he would rub it against her lips and the put it back in. 

It started to become erect. She could feel it growing inside her mouth. She was now sucking it in and out, and when it occasionally slipped out, she balanced it on her lower lip while she ran her tongue around the head. 

He moved his hand from the back of her head, and she didn’t pull away. 

He reached down and fondled her breasts, her already stiff nipples puckered even more. 

He gently slid his hand down her belly to the top of her panties, ran his fingers along the seam and then circled back up to her breasts. He repeated this motion several times. Jim watched Roy’s hand like a hawk. 

Roy’s cock was good and hard now and Julie was sucking it with more enthusiasm than I’d ever seen before. She grabbed it with both hands, and stroked it in and out of her juicy mouth. 

When his hand circled down towards her panties again, she sucked her stomach in, inviting him to explore some new territory. His fingers glided effortlessly into her silky blonde pubic hair. She continued to hold her stomach in as he delicately ran his fingers through her golden pubes. 

Unconsciously her legs spread apart. Jim noticed it first. 

“Damn Roy! What you doin’ to that girl? Her panties are soakin’ wet!” 

Julie’s legs were spread just enough for all of us see her soaked panties. The material was so wet, it clung to her labia like cellophane. Julie stopped to look down at herself just as a lighting strike illuminated the room. Her pussy lips were red, thick, and covered with goo. 

“You like black cock, don’t you?” Roy teased. 

Julie was too embarrassed to answer. 

“Look at those panties white boy! You know she’s lovin” it! I ain’t even touched her yet and she’s all sloppy wet. Your little lady is getting all primed up for some big black cock, ain’t she? She wants black dick so bad, I can smell her cunt from here! Can you smell it?” 

I shook my head no. 

“No?? Well then, we can’t let you go without smelling your wife’s hot pussy now can we? Take off those panties baby, so your man can smell your dirty little cunt.” 

We all watched as Julie lifted her ass and slowly lowered her soaked panties to her knees, then she lifted her legs into the air and pulled her panties over her stockings and past her spiked heels. When she set her heels back down on the floor, her legs spread and her pussy lips parted, exposing the opening to her tight little hole. The smell of Julie’s juicy cunt filled the air, it was intoxicating.

“Ooooo weeee! Look at that tiny little thing!” Roy exclaimed with glee. 

Julie’s cunt lips were swollen, her clit was protruding like a little penis, and the hair all around was matted from the juice that was flowing from her hungry hole. 

Embarrassed, Julie closed her legs to keep us all from looking. 

“Oh, Jimmy! Your gonna have some fun with this one!” 

As Roy spoke, Jimmy dropped to his knees on the floor in front of the couch. He put his hands on her knees and tried to spread her legs, but she fought him.

“Oh please no!” She cried. “Don’t! Please don’t do it! I’ll do anything else! I’ll suck you both! I promise! I’ll make you cum!” 

It was like Jimmy was deaf though. 

She struggled to keep her legs closed, but he was strong. Too strong. He managed to get her knees slightly apart. 

“Stopppp!” She whined as he began to nibble and kiss the insides of her knees through her stockings. 

“Oh God, no!” She was losing her strength. He pried her legs apart slowly, moving his lips further and further up towards the top of her stockings. Her toes tingled from his hot kisses. 

“Oh please stop! No, No, Oh God, No!!” She begged as his mouth reach the top of her stockings. Her anticipation was becoming stronger than her will. She knew it was just a matter of time now. The muscles in her thighs were taught and bulging, trying to keep her legs from spreading wide. 

Jimmy’s lips slid onto the inside of her bare thigh, his hot wet tongue massaged the taught muscle that was keeping her legs closed. 

“Oh god!” she wept, “I can’t stop him! I just can’t!!” 

Her muscles relaxed as he spread her legs wide. He pushed on her thighs until on of her legs was draped over mine. I could feel the heat of her thigh on my bare skin. He continued nibbling and licking his way to her swollen labia. 

“You bastard!” She cried. 

A drop of juice dribbled down the crack of her ass. 

“Ohhhhhh fuckkkkk!!” She moaned as his tongue split her labia and slid effortlessly into her hot little hole. Julie closed her eyes and threw her head back onto the couch. The fight was over.

Roy joined in, working her upper body. The two of them were ravaging her like a pair of hungry wolves. Their lips and mouths touched every private part of my wife’s gorgeous body. 

Her breasts and her thighs were soaked with saliva. 

Her nipples were bright red from Roy’s bites. 

Every time he clamped down on one of her nipples, her pelvis uncontrollable shot forward, burying Jimmy’s head deep into her mound. Her sobs of a moment ago turned to moans of ecstacy. 

Her heels, once dangling on the floor, were now digging into the couch, causing her knees spread apart like a book. She held my leg for support.

She ran her fingers through Jimmy’s hair as he masterfully worked her cunt. I looked up to see Roy sucking like a little baby on one of her erect nipples. 

Without ever taking his lips off her skin, he slid his mouth towards her neck. She bent her head back, fully exposing her neck to his lips. He continued on, licking up her chin, until his tongue slid into her open mouth. She closed her lips around his tongue, and began to suck it like a little penis. Her hand closed around his stiff cock and stroked it at the same time she simulated fucking his tongue.

“Oh yea, baby!” He whispered, “That’s it!” 

She took a hold of his shaft and guided it towards her mouth. A little drop of pre-cum dangled from the end of his slender rod. Julie placed her tongue on the droplet and eased her head away, forming a thin string of cum between his cock and her mouth, and then she followed the string back to his cock until his rod was buried deep inside her throat. 

Roy held her head steady with both of his hands and began to slowly fuck her mouth. 

A sudden bolt of lightning flashed like a camera bulb going off. The split second scene that will always be etched in my mind was that of my tiny conservative little wife, buck naked except for stockings and heels, on the couch next to me spread-eagle, on of her legs draped across my lap, with Jimmy’s tongue deep in her pussy and her lips wrapped tightly around Roy’s stiff cock. 

I wanted to close my eyes, but couldn’t. I watched in horror as Jimmy worked her beautiful little cunt into a frenzy. 

He started out by gently licking the crease between her outer and inner pussy lips, then he flicked his tongue across her clit three or four times before parting her lips by sliding his tongue up and down her slit until her hole was unobstructed. He then stiffened his tongue and held it at her juicy opening, he let her then wiggle and wiggle and push until she had it buried deep inside her. 




Intruders



Once inside her, he would retract his tongue back into his mouth very, very slowly, allowing her to feel every inch of it while giving her pussy a chance to tighten up; once his tongue was all the way out, he would shoot it back in again, as deep as it would go. 

I watched her push her clit into his nose, trying to get his tongue to go deeper and deeper inside her. It was the wildest thing I’d ever seen. 

Julie picked up Roy’s rhythm, and started fucking Jimmy’s tongue at the same pace that Roy’s cock was sliding in and out of her mouth. The flashes of lightning and the constant roar of thunder made the whole scene very surreal. 

The sounds of her muffled moans were driving me crazy, and I could feel her twitch every time he hit a good spot. 

There’s nothing that turns me on more than watching and listening to Julie lose control. I had never seen her this wild before. It was like watching a porno, only better. My tiny little wife was being ravaged by two big black strangers right in front of me. She should have been scared and repulsed, but she wasn’t. She was loving it! Julie wasn’t faking any of this, her moans were real, and it was really turning me on. My cock grew stiff and poked out of my boxers. 

Roy pulled his cock from Julie’s mouth; she looked up into his eyes to see why he stopped.. “You love black cock, don’t you?” 

“Oh yessss!” she moaned as Jimmy’s tongue pushed deep into her hole. 

Roy turned her head toward my lap, “Looks like he’s enjoying the show, don’t it?” 

She smiled when she saw my stiff little dick poking out of my shorts. 

“Which cock would you rather have, that puny little white thing or a nice big fat black one?” 

Symbolically, she grabbed his cock again and without losing eye contact with me, swallowed as much of it as she could, and then, when she pulled the head back out, she licked it like her favorite lolly pop. She went slowly enough to make sure that I saw every little tongue flicker.

“Oh baby, that feels sooo good!” He moaned. 

Julie looked up into his eyes, grabbed both of his butt cheeks and proceeded to fuck his big cock with her mouth. 

“Oooh! You sure are a hot one! Do you like what Jimmy is doing to your pussy?” 

“Mmm,” was her only answer. 

“You like to fuck, don’t you?” 

“Mmmmm!” she answered again. 

“How would you like to ride a big black cock?” 

“Mmmmmmm!!!” she moaned emphatically. 

“Jimmy will fuck you if you ask him nicely.” 

Julie let Roy’s cock slip out of her mouth, she took Jimmy’s head in her hands and looked him square in the eye. 

“Please fuck me Jimmy. Pleeease!!” she begged. 

Jimmy rose in front of her and began to strip his wet clothes off.

He was a big hulking man, 6'-5" or more, solid muscle. He was built like a football linebacker. His shirt came off, exposing huge biceps and a chiseled chest. Julie stared in awe at his muscular body hoping that his cock size was proportional to his body. 

He dropped his pants to the floor, and his briefs could barely contain the bulge inside of them. Julie couldn’t believe what she was seeing. When he dropped his shorts to the floor, his limp ten inch cock dangled between his legs. 

“Oh my God!” Julie giggled nervously. 

Jimmy stood there with his hands on his hips, his huge cock looked like a fire hose. 

“Go ahead baby, it’s all yours.” Roy encourage. 

Julie dropped to her knees in front of him and wrapped her lips around the dangling head. 

Jimmy’s cock was much bigger than Roy’s. 

She never in her wildest imagination thought that she would ever have a cock this big. It was so heavy, she didn’t even have to hold it in her hand to suck it. Jimmy held her head in his hands and began to talk to her. 

“Oh yea baby, that’s it. Suck it. Make it hard. Make it hard so I can fuck your sweet little pussy! Yea baby, Ooooh, it feels so good.” 

Julie grabbed it in both hands and decided to really work it. She wanted his cock to get hard in the worst way. She was determined to get that beautiful cock into her. She licked and stroked and sucked and even fondled his balls trying to get him hard. She finally stood up, took his cock in one hand, wrapped her other arm around his neck, and stroked the end of his dick against her pussy while she whispered in his ear. 

“You have a magnificent cock! It’s so big! I’ve never seen a cock that big before. Mmmmm!” She moaned as she rubbed his gigantic head through her slit.

“Can you feel how wet I am?” She started. 

“My pussy is getting ready for your big black cock! I want you to put that big cock all the way into my pussy, and hold it there so I can cum on it!! I need to be fucked by a real man, with a real dick!” She whined in his ear. 

His cock grew stiff quickly. Julie laid back on the couch, one leg still draped over mine, and spread her legs as wide as she could. Her pussy balanced on the edge of the couch, waiting for Jimmy to move in.. 

“Fuck me!” she pleaded, “Fuck me now!!” 

Jimmy eased himself into place. 

“Fuck me slowly so I can feel every inch of your magnificent cock!” 

His erect penis was at least 12 inches long, and as big around as a cucumber, it was monstrous. 

With Julie’s leg draped across mine, I got a birds eye view of his big black cock as it slapped up against her tiny little white pussy. 

He began by slowly massaging her cunt with the head of his dick. She moaned continuously as he slid the big brown knob up and down her greasy slit. 

Julie’s body jerked and her breath was taken away every time he bumped it up against her engorged clit. 

She placed both hands on his ass cheeks and guided him towards her juicy hole. 

He positioned his big knob right at the opening of her cunt. 

The leg that she had draped over me tensed up as she prepared for his massive cock. 

She wiggled around a bit until it was perfectly centered. She pulled his ass towards her, but her hole was much smaller than his cock. It didn’t go in. 

She sobbed loudly “It’s too big!! I want to fuck your cock, but it’s too big!! 

Jimmy pulled his cock away from her, spit into his hands and then rubbed it all over the end of his massive dick. He put it back against her hole, pushed her legs as far apart as they would go and just started to rock back and forth very slowly. 

She could feel the very tip start to work it’s way in. Juice gushed from her cunt in anticipation. 

“Oh God, I can feel it!” She triumphantly exclaimed. 

“Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!” she started to chant. 

Jimmy got excited and pushed a little harder. Her tight pussy stretched and the head of his gigantic cock slid into her hot cunt. Julie grabbed his ass and pulled him into her. 

“Unnnngh!!! Unnnnngh!!! Unnnngh!!! Unnnngh!!!” she screamed, her feet spasmed, her legs twitched and her ass bucked wildly. 

She was her cumming on his cock! Her whole body shook from her orgasm.

“Ohhhh Goddddd!!!!” she moaned as her orgasm subsided, “That feels soooo gooood!” 

She quickly caught her breath. 

“I love your cock!” she whispered in his ear. “I love it! I love it! I love it! Fuck me more!”

Julie’s quivering pussy made a sucking noise as he slid his giant cock out of her. The last four inches of his thick brown shaft glistened with her pussy juices. She had cum on only four inches of his tremendous cock. 

He centered the bulbous head between her swollen lips, and slowly pushed in. His big cock pushed her pussy lips deep into her cunt. He slowly withdrew, exposing about five inches of glistening meat. 

Her pussy lips emerged, bigger and more swollen than before. 

He was making her hotter than I’ve ever seen her before. 

He pushed in again, very slowly. I watched closely as her pussy lips disappeared, and her tiny little hole stretched for him. 

She held her breath as he inserted his giant tool, and then loudly exhaled as it reached new depths. 

He was fucking her slowly, just the way she liked it. 

His cock emerged, this time about six inches was covered with her juices. 

Her cunt lips looked like they were ready to explode! Her hole was gaping open, but closed quickly. 

Everyone in the room was silent, amazed at the sight of her little pussy tightening back up, getting ready for the next push. 

Jimmy waited, slowly stroking his cock, just inches away from my wife’s cunt. Julie bent forward to watch along with us. 

I couldn’t believe what was happening. 

There we all were watching in amazement as my lovely little wife readied herself to take more of jimmy’s big black cock. He was giving her what she wanted, and she was loving ever inch of it.

When she was finally ready, she grabbed his ass cheeks and motioned him forward. 

“Fuck me.” She said quietly.

I grabbed onto her knee, and helped spread her legs.

His cock enter her juicy slit effortlessly. 

He buried seven inches of his big tool into her, withdrew a couple of inches, and pushed for more.

He assaulted my wife’s cunt with quick, short strokes until her pussy had swallowed all twelve inches of his thick brown shaft. His big balls rested against her ass. 

She held him deep inside her. I could tell by the way that she was moving that her pussy muscles were contracting around his cock. She bucked her hips to get the head of his cock to massage the back wall of her hungry little cunt. 

She was using his cock to massage herself into another orgasm. 

The muscles in her face tightened, and her body tensed. 

Her mouth opened.

“Ohhhh!!” she moaned. “Ohhhh!”

Jimmy withdrew all twelve inches.

“Ayyyye!!” she shrieked, and began sobbing and pulling at him to put it back in. 

Jimmy did put it in. All the way in! And then all the way out!

He started fucking her with full, long strokes, using every bit of his cock!

He started slowly, but picked up the pace.

Julie’s sobs changed to throaty moans. She like being fucked.

Roy’s cock found it’s way to her mouth and Julie took it eagerly.

I watched as my little princess masterfully handled these two big cocked men.

While I watched her moaning and drooling over Roy’s cock, I could hear the distinct squishing sound of Jimmy’s giant cock forcing it’s way deep into her tight, juicy little pussy, and then the distinct sucking sound of her tight pussy not wanting to let it go.

I could tell when she took it all by slapping of his big black balls against her little white ass. Julie lurched forward every time Jimmy’s cock bashed into the back wall of her vagina, causing Roy’s cock to be forced even deeper into her throat.

She was taking as much cock as she possibly could.

Roy watched Jimmy’s cock pounding her sweet little cunt.

“Oh yea Jimmy! Oh yea!!” He cheered.

“Fuck that little white slut! Fuck the shit out of her!”

With that, Jimmy picked up the pace even more. His cock was like a big black jack hammer, pounding and stretching her little pink pussy like never before. She could handle it any more.

Julie spit Roy’s cock into her hand and started to jerk it with the same ferocity that Jimmy was fucking her with.

“AHHH! AHHH! AHHH!” She screamed as his shaft battered tiny hole.

“Oh god! Oh god!” she moaned as she felt Jimmy cock swelling inside her. 

“Cum on me! Cum in me! Make me cummmmmm!!”

Jimmy snorted and grunted as his cock erupted deep inside her.

She could feel his hot jism pumping deep into her.

“I’m cummmmmming!” She shouted. 

Roy’s cock exploded into her face. Hot cum dribbled down her cheek and into her mouth. He finished off by jerking the remainder of his load onto her chest. 

She massaged Roy’s thick cum into her nipples, and then licked her fingers clean.

Julie let out on last final gasp, “Ahhhhh!” As Jimmy withdrew his twelve inch cock from her quivering pussy. 

Cum gushed out of her cunt onto my leg.

Julie lay there, chest heaving and heart beating like she had just run a marathon, with her legs spread wide open. The two men stared at her battered cunt as they dressed.

As they began to leave, Julie got up, and with cum dribbling down her thighs, walked them to the door. She stood up on her toes and kissed each one of them.

“Thanks Roy, Thanks Jimmy. See you Monday.”

“See you later, Julie”



Intruders



I sensed movement before I opened my eyes. Or I think I had been dreaming, and then in my dream there was someone in my room. Something like that, I just knew I wasn't alone anymore. 

I also knew that I was cold. I think that was what actually woke me up, the breeze from the open window across my skin. Without touching myself, I knew I had gooseflesh, and with that sleepy ability to see everything at once I imagined myself laying sprawled on my bed, skin pale from the chill, and the curtains flapping gently against the window frame.

If it was the cold that woke me up, it was the image of the open window, which I knew had been closed, which finally convinced me to open my eyes. I did so tentatively, scared of what I might see. 

I saw my room, empty.

Still bewildered by sleep I sat up, hazily considering my room, and took a few moments to orient my self before I saw him.

He stood in the darkest corner, blending in easily with his long black coat and stormy features, watching me watch him and matching my interest. I blinked a few more times, trying to confirm to myself that he was real. After almost a minute of me just staring blankly, struck dumb by shock, he spoke. 

"I hope I haven't scared you too much." His expression was unreadable; he waited for a reply with patient eagerness, both amiable and friendly, and quietly commanding. "I can see how my presence would surprise you." His tone of voice was as ambiguous as his facial expression. He spoke simply and slowly, but glowed with intelligence and wit.

I, on the other hand, must've seemed like a total moron. Not knowing what to say, I just kept staring, open mouthed and wide-eyed at this dark figure standing perfectly still in the corner of my bedroom. 

I almost felt I should apologise for seeming like such a dumbass, before remembering that this man had just broken into my house and had been watching me sleep. Then I just got mad.

"What the fuck are you doing in my room?" It was more of a shout than I expected, and that pleased me. I sat up further, my head clearing. "And who the fuck are you?" He opened his mouth to reply but I cut him off. "I mean what the fuck were you thinking breaking into my room and then hoping you hadn't scared me? You're a fuc-"

Before I knew it he had crossed the room and his hand was over my mouth. I was forced to accept that despite my verbal abuse towards him, I was actually shitting myself with fear. I began to sweat, but did not move a muscle. He sat on the bed with me, watching me carefully.

"I don't want to hurt you." He was still speaking with that soothing voice. It rumbled up from his chest like thunder but left his mouth with silken clarity. But despite his affirmation he didn't want to hurt me, and despite his deeply sexy voice, I was still terrified. He took his hand away. "I just want to have sex with you."

I almost choked. "What?" I backed away a little, never taking my eyes from him.

"You don't want that?" His brow furrowed a little as he considered my reaction.

"Of course not!" I snapped back, faking bravery for a few seconds before giving up and dropping eye contact. 

I could still feel his eyes on me, however, burning holes into me as I tried to pull the sheets up as high as possible, aware again that I sleep naked. I had never felt so vulnerable and helpless in all my life. 

He spoke again, his decision reached. "Then I'll just lay with you for a while. Maybe we can reconsider later." With this, he kicked off his shoes, pulled off his coat, and climbed onto the bed with me. My blood ran cold with fear. I shot my eyes to the door. I would never make it. I looked at the window. It was too far away too. I could call for help.

He saw me looking at the window. "Don't." He said plainly, and slid an arm across me. "Lie down." That was it: I screamed. 

I had no idea I was capable of screaming that loud, and was impressed with myself. My scream seemed to completely fill the room, shaking both of us, until once more his hand was clamped across my mouth once more. This time I struggled, which only led to him climbing on top of me, to pin me down. He managed to grasp both my wrists with one hand, hold them behind my head, and still cover my mouth with the other hand. I gave up. 

He hovered over me still, saying nothing. I could feel him through the sheets, his weight pressing me down into the mattress. He looked at me as if he were looking at a naughty child, stern but patient. I tried to look defiant. He took his hand off my mouth, and took one of my wrists in each hand so that my arms were separated. Knowing compliance was safer, I let him. 

He kept his rich, dark eyes on me the whole time, slowly letting his face dip closer to mine. I knew what was coming next, but knew I was fighting a losing battle, so I decided to accept my helplessness and not to stop him as he lowered his lips to mine and kissed me. At the time I was calling it self preservation. After all, everyone says that when you're confronted by a crazy person, just do what they want, for your own safety. So, quite simply, that's what I did.

It was a slow, firm kiss. His tongue snaked its way in between my lips and found mine, deepening the kiss, before he suddenly pulled away. "I'm sorry."

"What?" I asked, too out of breath to think of anything better.

"You don't want to have sex. So I suppose I shouldn't kiss you." I knew exactly what he was doing. Bastard. He was trying to tease me, get me wound up, getting me to soften to him with a kiss and then ending it before I did so it left me wanting him. And I hated it because it was working. 

I paused, looking up at him, my pulse racing as I ran through my options. I should have agreed with his not kissing me. But he was in whatever it was he was doing, because I found myself disagreeing. "You can kiss me."

He raised an eyebrow in startled pleasure and was immediately kissing me again. My wrists were released, and despite my best efforts to remain stiff and reluctant, I somehow let myself bring my hands up behind his head and began to run my nails gently through his hair. Every joint in my body felt fluid and weak, and every inch of my skin was starting to tingle and glow. 

I parted my legs slightly, so that one of his legs slipped between mine. Not satisfied, he squeezed his other knee between my legs and used it to push my legs wider apart, before settling into me and grinding his hips against mine, causing me to whimper with the sudden contact. 

It did occur to me about this point that what was happening was very wrong. This man was an intruder. I should still be screaming. In the angry, scared way. And yet somehow I was letting this complete stranger kiss me, whilst pressing his huge erection into me, and letting all the tension accumulated by fear now melt into uneasy lust.

I was weak. I knew it. He knew it. And he was relishing it. "We still don't have to have sex," he panted, breaking away. Bastard. I still knew exactly what he was doing. "But I will just take off my pants." It was such a teenage seduction. Softly, softly, one step at a time, the boy worms past the girls defences, using trivial excuses and tiny requests that all amount to some very dirty, sweaty acts. I knew it well; it almost felt safe in its rituality. His pants slid down, only to his thighs, and he began gently thrusting at me through the sheets, squirming with pleasure at the increased closeness. I felt like every weak little girl I had always felt so superior to; and I, like him, relished it.

The air was thick with heat and sweat, even with the breeze from the window, but still we kept pushing and panting for further intimacy. I was now so turned on I barely heard the banging on the door, and it wasn't until he froze, for no apparent reason that I heard it properly.

There it was again. Someone was banging on the door. And shouting. "Miss Temple?" What the fuck? It was really muffled, and I was really confused. "Are you OK?" 

He was off me in a second, and pulling up his pants. I wanted to tell him to stay, but his eyes were fixed on the door, and he was backing towards the window. There was more shouting. That was it; he flashed me a wicked smile and was out of the window before I could even open my mouth to speak. 

That was when the police broke through my front door. They told me the neighbours had reported screaming, and that a prowler had been sighted in the area earlier that evening. I told them someone had been in here, scared me but done nothing, and been scared off when they arrived. 

The police filed lots of reports, told me they'd hunt the dangerous intruder down, but my visitor was never identified. I never saw or heard of him again. Damn it.

The End...



Intruders



It started out as just an ordinary workday. I was busy at my desk following up on some orders. The secretary was working on the computer and filing some paid bills. The ten men we employed were downstairs in the shop working on the components we manufactured. It seemed like just another day at work.

Rob, my husband was at his desk trying to look busy, as was his usual manner. Oddly, though, when I walked over to his desk to ask a question about an invoice or something, I would see that he had solitaire on his computer screen. This always seemed a bit irritating as in the evening after I would pick up our child and go home to start dinner, he always called and said he would be late as he had more work to do. 

My husband and I had been married for some 12 years. We had worked together at our business for most of those years other than the little time I took off to have our child. However, the love seemed to be lost between us anymore. He never took any interest in me, our child, or really much of anything.

For probably the first 6 years, I did everything I could think of to get him to understand that he would only get back what he put into his marriage and child. However, all was to no avail and after that 6 years, I just resigned myself to try and make it through until our child was grown and gone. Then maybe, I could go, too.

Yes, there were many times I was so angry at his attitude but I knew not what to do. However, as time went on, I found it was all just fruitless to even talk about the problems. I just prayed that someday I would be free of him and the empty, loveless, void we lived in.

Kate, the secretary was a nice gal and I was always glad to have another person in the office to at least make the day go by faster. We had had many secretaries but Rob somehow had lost most of them by the way he treated them so poorly. He always had a way of making a person feel like any mistakes that they made were incredibly stupid and then proceed to browbeat them unmercifully. I never blamed them for leaving. I often wished I could do the same.

The men employees were an interesting lot. Some nice, some quiet, some a little odd, but that was to be expected in any business with employees. Then, of course, there was always that unseen line between employer and employee that did not allow for much freedom of conversation. Then, my being the boss's wife made me definitely off limits.

I do remember, though, over the years finding more than one of those employees rather interesting in more ways than just a friendly curiosity. I never acted on such thoughts as my husband could be a violent man and that was definitely the last thing I needed to deal with. I allowed only my imagination to play.

As the day went on, I remember thinking, "Just another day at work with Rob, just another of many days to come." Yes, somehow, I wished the years would fly by and I could reclaim my spirit and fly away.

I was lost in my thoughts at my desk when I heard this odd commotion on the steps up to the office. It almost sounded like a herd of buffalo. Kate glanced at me with a perplexed look. Rob started to stand up to see what it was all about when suddenly 1 of 3 men burst through the door brandishing an automatic rifle in his hands.

Rob stepped back as Kate and I let out screams. Behind the first gunman, our men employees were being forced into the office area with their hands held high. Behind them followed two more masked men carrying weapons. What could they want? We carried no money on the premises and nothing else of value. Kate and I were both shaking almost uncontrollably. When I glanced at Rob, he looked almost like a cowardly dog backing into a corner.

The gunmen ordered the employees to sit in one corner of the office on the floor. They warned if anyone resisted their instructions, they would be shot. Nobody hesitated to do what they said. The third gunman turned to Kate and I and ordered us to take off all our clothes. What was happening? What did these men want? Why were they here doing this to us?

Kate and I had no choice but to do as they said. Embarrassed and shaking, we slowly pulled our blouses off, then our skirts until we had just our panties and bras and heels.

He yelled at us again. We jumped in fright. I could hear Kate sobbing. We obeyed and took off our bras, our full breasts bared to all. The employees looked on, almost gaping, yet also with a look of sympathy at our dilemma. Then I slowly lowered my panties and Kate followed until all that was left on our naked bodies was our high heels. We both stood there wishing we could just disappear into thin air.

Then, as two of the three gunmen kept a gun on the group of employees and Rob, the third commanded Kate and I to go over to Rob's desk. Once there, with a terrible swift motion with his gun, he knocked everything upon the desk off, with it crashing to the floor. The noise made Kate and I both jump, our hearts racing even faster.

He then ordered my husband, Rob to take the rope from him and tie our legs to the desk's legs. Kate had one leg tied to the right side of Rob's desk; mine was tied to the left leg of the desk. Our legs were tied together at the middle of the desk. My heart was racing, my hands were shaking, and my thoughts were near panic. I could not imagine what was going on and what these men wanted of us. I looked over at Kate and could see tears of fear in her eyes.

He then commanded us to bend over the desk and put our arms outstretched. He ordered Rob to tie them to the desk drawer handles. The desk was so cold on my bare breasts; it gave me goose bumps all over my body.

Rob wrapped the rope around my wrists and tied it as he was told. He seemed to be more afraid for himself than for me. After he finished tying Kate's arms, he was told to sit down close to the end of the desk where one of the gunmen gagged him and tied his hands and feet while he sat on the floor not 3 feet from me.

Kate and I were trembling so hard; I thought we were going to pass out. Suddenly, the lead gunman ordered the men employees to take off their pants. They made some noises of hesitation but his gun calmed their dissention, quickly. He told the closest employee on the floor to stand and walk towards me. 

What was he doing? How could this be happening? I looked over at Rob but saw nothing but fear in his eyes and I don't think the fear was for me.

Then I hear the gunman tell the employee, " Fuck her, fuck her now!" My god, what was happening? Here I was tied to my husbands work desk, my legs spread wide next to my secretary, Kate, and my employee was going to fuck me? This had to be a nightmare; this could not be real.

Suddenly, I felt something against my clit! Oh, my god, it was happening! Tim, the first employee, by chance, was following the gunman's instructions. I had been so scared, shaking so hard; there was no juice flowing down there. It felt like sandpaper as he entered me. I could tell he was scared, too, but that didn't seem to keep him from functioning. He pounded away at me, in and out, in and out, until he finally came with a release of hot cum in my pussy. I still couldn't believe what was happening. I felt like it must be a nightmare and I would wake soon.

Again, I heard the head gunman order 2 more of the employees to walk to the desk that Kate and I were spread eagle and tied to. My mind was going crazy. Were these men insane? Why were they doing this? I could hear Kate's sobbing getting louder as she anticipated what was going to happen next.

The two employees got behind us. Mine put his hands on my butt and spread my flower wide. It was already wet with the cum from the first man who had me. He pushed his dick inside. This time it slid in easily with the aid of the previous cum. I was at least grateful for that. However, I could hear Kate and she was hurting. I begged Jim, the employee who had been directed to her to be easy with her. He said, yes, he would and he told Kate he was sorry that he had to do this.

It seemed like an eternity. Each employee was made to come up and fuck us as the gunman ordered. Rob was made to watch all his men fucking his wife. These were all the men he had treated so badly. He browbeat every chance he got and now they were getting even by sheer chance.

Kate and I both had cum running down our legs. As soon as one man finished, another would come to do it again. At some point, and I don't know when, I suddenly began to feel something akin to arousal. Man after man was fucking me, forcing his cock into my pussy, and stroking back and forth with all his might to release his hot fluids. I turned to Kate. She looked me in the eyes and I could tell that some of the fear was fading from her, too.

My god, who would have thought that such a thing, could happen! Yet it did and now after I don't know how many fuckings, I was almost beginning to look forward to the next man (and some, more than others, I noticed). 

Oddly, the look of anger in Rob's eyes as he watched each of his employees take a piece of me, was almost worth the fear we had inside of us. After so many years with this man who himself was terrible in bed and could care less if I was ever satisfied was now watching me move into an almost constant orgasmic state with one man after another fucking my brains out.

I don't know how long it lasted. I didn't even care. It felt so good. After all these years of a deadbeat husband, I was being seduced and satisfied to the utmost.

Then as quickly as it started, the gunman shouted for the men to stop and sit back down in the corner. He came to me and said in a very low voice, "Do you want more?" I was taken aback. Did I want more? "Well, (as I thought for a moment) yes!" He just grinned under that ski mask, but I could see it. He said, "So, you have not had your fill?" I was reluctant to respond with Rob within earshot. However, under my breath, I said to him, "Yes, more, please, more."

He leaned over and untied my hands and legs. Kate was left there on the desk, completely exhausted from the ordeal. He led me to another room of the office. Left behind were the employees on the floor, Rob still gagged and tied and his two gunmen standing over them. We went to a couch in the reception area of our office. He sat me down gently on the couch. I remember my bare cunt against the cool leather as I sat there. He put his gun down in the corner. Then he took off his shoes, his pants, and his shirt. His dick was so engorged and huge. My pussy started throbbing almost immediately. What seemed to start out as Hell that day was slowly becoming more like a dream come true. It had been so long since I had been fucked right, that I had longed for more and more. It felt so good.

He gently laid me back on the couch and put his head between my legs. His tongue was exquisite. Oh, my god, I had never experienced anything like it before. I felt like he was sending me to a heaven I had never known. My juices were flowing wildly with the prodding of his tongue on my clit. I felt like I was as light as a feather and drifting into a sea of ecstasy.

He slowly came up to my breasts and sucked and fondled each one. The nipples were so erect with the pleasure I was experiencing. "Oh, yes, please don't stop, I whispered. You feel so wonderful."

As he inched up to my neck, my head, my ears, I was almost delirious with pleasure. He suddenly drove his cock straight into my pussy. I screamed out in delight. He touched every corner, every nook and cranny inside of my vagina. As he drove it deeper, it only felt better. I begged him to keep going. "Don't stop, please, don't stop." It feels so wonderful. "Fuck me, fuck me more," I said. He just whispered in my ear, "Yes, like I have always wanted to, my dear."

I was lost in pleasure. I don't know how long he fucked me. I didn't want it to ever end. I didn't want to ever go back to that horrible life with Rob. I just wanted to stay there in his arms with his beautiful shaft in my flower forever. 

As the time passed, the excitement finally peaked his ability to hold his golden treasure any longer and with a huge lunge into me, he poured his hot cum into my welcoming vessel. Oh, yes, it was like a dream. It felt so good, like nothing I had ever experienced. My own orgasm was out of control with spasms that sent tremors through my whole body and his.

As we lie beside each other completely spent from our encounter, I asked him, "Who are you?" "Why did you come?" He turned to me and said, "Because Carol, I could not watch you suffer any longer with that asshole husband of yours." "I knew you needed a way out."

He took off his ski mask and suddenly I realized. It was Mitchell, a former employee that I had many a conversation with and indeed had dreamed of seducing this young, handsome man who seemed to be so in tune with me. My husband had always treated him poorly and fired him when he suspected my feelings.

Well, it was an odd way to get back at Rob, my husband, but in truth, I rather enjoyed it. My goodness, how many times does a woman get to be fucked over and over by all her male employees without any guilt? Even Kate later confided in me that once she relaxed, she too enjoyed it.

As to date, Kate is still screwing at least three of the employees downstairs. As for me, Mitchell and I get together every chance we get. Rob, well, he is still a miserable bastard and probably always will be.



Intruders



The evening was still young, but I felt tired from my long day of work. Fridays always were the busiest and most strenuous, and usually had me beat by noon. My thoughts were on a nice, long, hot shower and maybe a book for afterward as I lay in bed. 

I pulled my clothes off and padded into the bathroom, turning the water on in the process, making sure to get it nice and hot.

I breathed a big sigh of relief as I stepped into the shower. Closing my eyes I stood there a few minutes not moving, letting the water beat on my tired body. 

I could feel all the tensions easing from me, the responsibilities, the days' strains and pressures oozed from my pores, leaving me in a state of placid tranquility. 

Feeling much better about the whole day's proceedings as the water beat its drops so heavily upon me, my body started to awaken from its work day slumber. I could feel a vibrant presence deep within me ripping its way from my innermost being, wanting to be unleashed to let run rampant upon my body, to make me forget about everything but me.

My hands found their way to my breasts, massaging, manipulating, gently caressing each one, making them feel that they should be the center of attention. Taking each nipple between my fingers, I delicately tweaked each one, holding them below the spraying water as it pummeled my body to unknown heights. 

I picked up the soap and tenderly started rubbing it around my breasts, lathering and rinsing, then repeating. The manipulations previously performed had left my nipples hard and sensitive to the touch, I washed them over and over, feeling the soothing lather helping to kindle the embers within me. The more I touched my breasts, the more those embers lit up and started to glow. 

I was starting to feel a warm sensation buried inside of me, getting hotter and hotter. My breasts tender to the touch, yet so susceptible to my commanding fingers, were begging me for more, more teasing, more pulling, more gentle caresses.

The water drumming down upon my body was merciless in its pounding of my tender skin, yet heatedly erotic in the same instance. Before I knew it my hand found its way down my body, between my legs, and to my center of desire. I put my leg up on the ledge of the shower, and proceeded to lather up my delicate pussy, massaging it gently, soothing it as well. Softly laughing at myself for not wanting to leave any part of my body feeling left out.

As I worked up the lather, rubbing it all around, my left hand tweaking and pulling on my nipple, my right buried between my legs with the soap, I started to feel a climax building, climbing its way through my body, trying to reach an ecstatic pinnacle. A feeling of euphoria washed over me as I so masterfully manipulated my body, knowing what I wanted and how I wanted it. 

My fingers found my hard clit and pinched it...rolling it between them, playing with it roughly. Throwing my head back, letting the water pulse on my neck and chest, overcome with the tingling sensations coursing through my body, I reached for that peak. My hands increased their tempo, rubbing furiously and tugging madly, feeling every spot, every inch of my skin become aware.

My breath was coming in quick gasps as the feelings inside of me started to subside. I dropped the soap, putting my leg back onto the shower floor and leaned on my hands against the wall of the shower, letting the water beat on my back. I felt so relaxed with my head down, watching the droplets stream down my breasts and drip to the floor. Thinking that this release was exactly what I needed tonight, I reached down and turned the water off. Grabbing a towel next to the stall, I dried every inch of my body off.

I decided to skip the book and just curl up in my big warm bed and relax, letting sleep come as it wished.

I woke with a start, feeling that something was not quite right. Before I had a chance to process anything, a big hand roughly covered my mouth, stifling any screams I may have had. 

A man thrust his face to mine. I could barely make him out through the moonlight streaming in my windows. 

"Cooperate and you won't get hurt. You understand?" he said to me.

I didn't know who this man was, but I wasn't about to give in to a total stranger, so I bit his hand.

"Bitch!" he said, as he smacked me across the face. "The bitch bit me."

It was then I realized that there was another person in the room on the other side of my bed.

"We'll just have to teach her a lesson, won't we?" The one I bit said, as he flipped on my bedroom lights, "Pull the blinds, Joe."

I got a better look at these two intruders, and I did not recognize either of them. The one I bit was a big man, tall and very muscular looking, with dark curly hair cut really short, and dark eyes set in a rugged, tough looking face. The other man, Joe, had brown hair, not too tall, and slim. They were dressed in jeans and black t-shirts, which really accented the bigger mans physique.

"Please don't hurt me," I stammered, fearing more for my life than anything else.

They just looked at each other smiling, the bigger man, chuckling, saying, "Honey, we don't plan on hurting ya, and, you might even enjoy this."

With that, he pulled back the covers in one move, baring my naked body to them. 

"Look, Joe, she's ready for us."

Joe was on me in an instant, one hand planted in the middle of my tummy, holding me down, and the other roughly grasping my breast. He planted a kiss on my neck, sucking on it hard. I struggled to get away from him, but he was a lot stronger than he looked and held me down without a problem.

I could see the other man getting undressed and was amazed at his big finely sculpted body. He saw me watching him, and smiled wickedly, his eyes telling me more than I wanted to know.

Feeling a little too vulnerable, I continued trying to get up, fighting under Joe, trying to push him off of me.

"Help me out here, Dan, she won't hold still," Joe pleaded to the big guy, Dan.

"Let her go," Dan said authoritatively, as Joe released me and got up.

I looked up at him fearfully and saw the menacing look on his face. It stilled me instantly.

"What did I say about cooperating?" He asked me.

I just stared at him, biting my lower lip, a tear tore itself from my left eye and ran down my cheek as he repeated his question-- demanding an answer.

"Th-that you won't hurt me," was all I could get out softly.

Dan sat down on the bed next to me, and pulled me into his arms. I put my head down on his hard chest, closing my eyes, hating myself for crying in front of these strangers, hating them for making me cry. I felt his hand on the back of my head, forcing me to look up at him.

"We're not going to hurt you," he said almost gently, "Okay?"

I nodded and tried to look back down, but Dan had other plans. He put his mouth to my lips, his tongue ravaged its way into my mouth and dueled with mine. He laid me back onto the bed on my side, as he kept kissing. Emotions waged war inside of me and I did my best to suppress them, not wanting this, yet powerless to stop it. I could feel his fingers as they found my pussy and made their way inside roughly. I was having a hard time breathing, and fought this madman to let me come up for air. He released my mouth as his lips moved to my breast and bit it. I gulped in the air by big mouthfuls, my chest heaving, rising and falling rapidly.

I could feel the guy behind me, Joe, getting back onto the bed and replacing Dan's hand with his own between my legs. He started massaging my pussy and then moved to my ass. I could feel his fingers spreading and probing, making me wince as they found there way through my entrance, and pushed into me.

Dan was still sucking and biting on my breast, his lips leaving a wet trail, his teeth torturing my soft skin. I cried out in pain as he bit my shoulder, catching me off guard as he nearly tore a hole in my flesh. 

I sighed in relief as Joe's fingers left my ass. I felt his body move next to mine, lying alongside of me. Feeling his nakedness next to me woke me from my daze, and knowing what was on his mind, I tried to move away from him. I was helplessly pinned in place by Dan's powerful body in front of me. I could once again feel Joe's hand on my ass, I could feel his cock probing at my pucker, forcing its way through the tight muscle. Tears rolled down my face as his cock eased slowly into me, forcing me open, giving me no choice but to accept him. He grabbed my leg and placed it up over his, opening me up further, making his access a little easier.

I closed my eyes in shame and humiliation, biting my lip to help compensate for the pain. 

Dan, again, put his hand between my legs. His fingers found my pussy and they tortured it, forcing their way inside, two and three at a time. His mouth moved back up to mine locking me into a forced kiss, his tongue pushed between my lips, burying itself into my throat nearly gagging me.

Just when I thought it couldn't get much worse, Dan pulled his hand away from my pussy, and moved his cock between my legs. I started to struggle, but Dan was prepared and slapped my face, glaring at me.

"Bitch," he muttered as his mouth found my neck and bit, nearly drawing blood.

His cock was probing at my pussy, his hand spreading my lips apart, as he forced his throbbing shaft into me. I gritted my teeth, clenching my eyes shut as he thrust himself deeply inside of me, filling me to the maximum.

Joe was pounding away at my ass, now coupled with the sensation of Dan's cock, and I had no choice but to lay here and take it. Thrust for thrust they kept their up their frantic pace, as I laid there absorbing their torturous ministrations. Joe was wreaking a maniacal attack on my sensitive back with his sharp teeth, nibbling and biting, making me cry out painfully. I buried my head into Dan's chest in shame, just wanting this to be over with.

Dan was still fucking my pussy intently as his hands grabbed at my tender breasts, squeezing them roughly, making them hurt. I could hear their breathing getting faster as they each thrust in turn into my ravaged body, alternating in their manipulations of me.

Joe's fingers were digging into my upper thigh, holding me in place as his hips drove harder and harder into me.

"Fuck Dan, this bitch has got a nice ass," he panted between thrusts.

Dan grabbed my hair yanking my head back and exposing my neck. He planted his lips there and sucked strongly as I again cried out in pain. His hands in my hair pulled harder as his lips inflamed my tender neck. 

Tears ran down both of my cheeks in shameful surrender as I succumbed to these two fearsome intruders. I just wanted this to be over with and soon I was to have my wish. Joe was shoving his hard cock into me so rapidly that I knew he was going to cum soon. I could feel his breath quicken and then stop as he held it for a moment before letting it out in a frenzy of thrusts and groans. I could feel his hot semen pouring into my bowels, and running out of me onto the sheets below. He kept pumping into me, milking his cock with my sorely tender ass, until he finally stopped altogether.

I silently thanked God as I felt him withdraw from me and lay back on the bed, breathing heavily. 

Dan, with no Joe in his way, rolled me onto my back and continued to fuck me madly. His cock pounded into me with a forceful rhythm, beating its way deeper with every thrust. I glanced up into his eyes to see him watching me, his expression was unreadable. I lowered my head and looked away, but he grabbed my face, forcing me to look at him.

"I'm going to cum inside of you, bitch," he said to me as he drove his cock to the hilt into my throttled pussy. Harder he drove, making me wince in pain as my body cried out enough of this. 

With a loud groan he emptied his seed deep into my pussy, thrusting and jerking as his cock relieved itself of its juicy load. He rolled off of me and sat on the edge of the bed. 

Dan reached for his clothes and started putting them on, not saying a word to anyone. I just stayed where I was, afraid to move for fear of another torturous assault. I felt battered and humiliated, but I knew that really I would be okay. Joe too moved off of the bed and began to dress quietly, both men silent and intimidating in their presence.

I watched as they both headed for the door, still fearful enough to keep myself quiet.

Joe made his way first out of my room, but Dan stopped in my doorway, turning back to me.

"Please leave your door unlocked again so I won't have to break in when I come back for more." With that he turned and left, slamming my front door as they headed out.



Intruders



"Get out of bed and get into the tub NOW!"

I awake in a cold sweat. My heart is racing. My head is pounding. I freeze, squeezing my eyes shut. I wait. I listen. I know he's coming. 

From the moment I heard him shout in the room down the hall, Jenn's room, I've been sure that this is the night I will die. Maybe his gun will kill me. Maybe a heart attack. I watch the clock.

2:36

2:37

2:38

Nothing but silence as I stare at the red numbers on the digital clock. Shouldn't I hear screaming by now? Gunshots? The cat scrambling around? Something?

"Get out of bed and get into the tub NOW!" I can still hear it ringing in my ears. The voice was loud and deep. Scratchy too. Must be a smoker. Wouldn't I smell cigarettes if there was a smoker in my apartment? I can smell a smoker a mile away.

But our whole apartment smells like cigarettes, you idiot. It's an old house with five apartments. Jenn and I are the only non-smokers in the fucking house. I'm pretty sure that every person that has ever lived here smoked. The walls are yellow and brown. All of them. Even the gray carpets have a brown tinge to them. It's actually kind of gross. It almost kept us from taking the apartm—

What the fuck was that? A rustling noise. Like the sleeve of a windbreaker moving against a torso. Again, terror freezes me to my bed. I can hear him, coming down the hall, shotgun aimed at my door, right next to my bed.

"Get out of bed and get into the tub NOW!" Over and over in my head. It's not as real as the first time. That one was the real thing. He's out there. Waiting. 

Just keep watching the clock.

2:46

2:47

2:48

I can watch the clock all night. I'll watch each minute tick by until morning. The clock will keep me sane, and if I am alive in the morning, he'll be gone. 

Right?

Why is it taking so long for him to walk down the fucking hallway? Does he not know I'm here? Is Jenn already dead or will he execute us together? That's what this is. An execution. Who'd want to execute Jenn? She's the nicest person I know! "Get into the tub." Yeah. That's an execution alright. Who the fuck would do this?

Maybe it's the old guy downstairs. He's been alone for so long, and the landlord made him get rid of his cat because it pissed all over the carpet. Maybe he cracked up. Maybe he thinks he's doing the world a favor by getting rid of the weird girls upstairs. If he's crazy, nothing has to make sense, right?

Or maybe it's the guy in apartment two who just got divorced. Maybe Jenn looks like his ex-wife. He could be a serial killer for all I know. Maybe I look like his wife! Maybe he thought he was getting me first. I don't fucking know.

My heart pounds again at the vision of being executed in the bathtub. "Get out of bed and get into the tub NOW!" I hear it again and hope it's just in my head. Why isn't he here yet? Just get it over with before my heart explodes. I wonder how long a person can be terrified before her heart gives out.

3:03

3:04

3:05

I hear a squeak. It must be the creak of a floorboard. The creaky floorboard is right outside of my room. I'm sweating, but I'm afraid to kick off the blanket. I haven't moved a muscle since I first heard his command. I fight the urge to moan to release some of the pressure the fear has built in me.

Why didn't I hear a struggle when he led Jenn down the hall? She as blind as a bat without her contacts in. Surely she would have stumbled or fought back or at least asked why. Where is the damned cat? He couldn't have shot him. I would have heard it. 

The phone. I should call 9-1-1, but I can't move. He'll hear me. He'll shoot me right here on the phone, and I'll have no chance to live. He'll shoot me and get away. The highway is right around the corner. He'll have time to escape before the 9-1-1 guy even pushes the button to call for an ambulance and the police.

And where is the phone anyway? I don't see it on my nightstand. Of all the fucking nights to leave it on the desk instead of next to the bed. I really have to be more careful. What if something happened? You moron! Something IS happening. Something bad. 

3:39

3:40

3:41

Just keep watching the numbers on the clock. Control your panic. Breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Keep breathing.

I hear movement again. Partly a rustle, partly a scrape. I think maybe he's touching the door with the gun. What the fuck is he doing out there? It's been over an hour since I heard him yell. Why doesn't he just get it over with? Just fucking kill me now? I'd rather be dead than this scared! Just do it, motherfucker!

Scratch...scrape...creak...squeak...

Why not the cha-chick of his shotgun? And how do I know it's a shotgun? Did I hear that distinctive sound, the one that might as well scream, "You're already dead, sweetheart!"

For the first time, it enters my mind that this might be a dream. A figment of my imagination. How else would I know what kind of gun he carried?

No. I heard what I heard. "Get out of bed and get into the tub NOW!"

4:25

4:26

4:27

Oh my god. The rustling is coming from inside my room. It's right over my bed. I should open my eyes and look, but I hear the rustling, and I'm too scared to peek. Is it his jacket? What the fuck is the noise? The panic is taking over. I feel like I'm going to piss my pants, right here in my bed. I'm frozen with terror, and I don't know if I can control my bladder. 

More rustling, and I feel a tickle on my head. Just a tiny movement of my hair. The urge to move my hand to check for a spider or something is overwhelming, kept in check only by the fact that I am frozen by fear. Maybe it's a bug. OH MY GOD WHAT IF THERE IS A SPIDER IN MY HAIR! I'm still as a statue, petrified by fear. 

No. It couldn't be a dream. A dream would have dissolved by now. No. I heard him as clearly as I heard that rustle. For Christ's sake there might be a spider in my hair, and this is certainly not a dream. Move your hand. Just move it slowly and quietly. There you go.

I move my hand, and the sound of my sleeve against the sheets is as loud as a firecracker. I wonder if Jenn is still alive as I freeze again. Goddam fucking spider. It must be standing on my head, just waiting to make its move.

Would it burrow into my hair? Bite my scalp? I NEED TO CHECK MY HAIR. But I can't. What if it's poisonous? What are the chances of dying from a spider bite versus the certainty that the intruder will kill me if he hears me move? 

I HAVE TO CHECK MY HEAD! IT'S CRAWLING ON MY HEAD!

No. Don't move. Concentrate on the clock. Watch the numbers change. You can do this. I have to pee.

5:03

5:04

5:05

What the fuck time does it get light out?

I hear a high-pitched buzz in my ear, and it takes every ounce of strength I have left not to swat at it. Maybe the spider will swallow the fly. Perhaps we'll all die.

5:06

5:07

5:08

Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall. Ninety-nine bottles of beer. Take one down. Pass it around. Thirty-seven bottles of beer on the wall.

5:41

5:42

5:43

It should be light out. Come on. Why isn't it light out yet? He'll leave when it's light. I'll hear him go down the stairs and out the front door. He won't stick around in the daylight. Home invasion and murder only take place when it's dark out. I'm sure of it. My god, I have to pee.

Or he'll just do it and GET THIS THE FUCK OVER WITH BEFORE I LOSE MY FUCKING MIND.

Three bottles of beer on the wall...

I open my eyes a tiny, little bit, and I can make out my dresser. I couldn't see it the last time I chanced a peek. The sun must be rising. If only the guy with the shotgun were a vampire, I'd be in the clear soon. 

I decide that he must not know that I'm here. He must have come for Jenn, and I'm sure that such a violent criminal will not stick around to make his escape in daylight. And there's still the possibility that it was a dream, right? It's been hours since I heard him yell. And I'm pretty sure I was asleep when it happened. Maybe Jenn is sleeping peacefully, and—

There's a noise. A bigger rustle and a small, not-quite-a-chirp sound. Something is moving. I hear the buzz in my ear again, and I freeze. Something is moving. Holy hell, what the fuck is that? I hear a snap, and I finally break through the statue of terror, like the Keymaster and the Gatekeeper at the end of Ghostbusters when everyone is covered in Stay-Puft marshmallow goop after the guys crossed the streams and rid New York City of Gozer the Gozarian—

Another squeak and a snap and I bolt up in bed and run my hand over my hair. No spiders, but I must be attracting the attention of the man with the shotgun. Maybe he fell asleep in the hallway. WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT NOISE?

6:02

He should be gone. It's getting light out. I'm sitting up, and I'm not dead yet. I may have pissed myself a little. There's no spider in my hair. I think.

6:09

6:10

6:11

I sit still and hope the light drives him out the door, if he hasn't tip-toed out already. I still hear it. "Get out of bed and get into the tub NOW!"

A nightmare, right? It had to be. Daylight brings reason, and as the sun peeks over the horizon and fills my bedroom with pinkish light, I feel my terror starting to ease. I haven't been shot by a man or bitten by a spider. I haven't had a heart attack. I'm gonna be OK. 

6:15

Almost time to get up.

I see movement out of the corner of my eye. I turn my head involuntarily. I'm trying so hard to remain still. It moves again. I hear nothing but the sound of my heart hammering in my chest. 

And then it takes flight. The small, dark figure darts across the room, coming dangerously close to my head. Close enough to hear the snap of the bat's jaws as it grabs the mosquito out of the air. 

A BAT! IN MY ROOM! THERE'S A MOTHERFUCKING BAT IN MY ROOM!

Is the bat in my dream too? Am I awake now? I don't fucking know. Maybe I never woke up. Maybe all this clock-watching is a dream. WAKE THE FUCK UP!

Holy fuck. From miles away, I hear Jenn's alarm clock blaring. I hear her pound the snooze button as she spits, "Fuck," a noise I hear at least three times every morning. It sounds normal, which at this moment sounds abnormal. I can't distinguish reality from what might be part of a dream.

Just a dream, right? 

I teeter on the brink of not knowing for another moment before I come to my senses. I realize that the man with the shotgun was only a nightmare. That the bat was a hallucination brought on by lack of sleep and intense fear. That Jenn was safe, and I had lain awake all night, watching the minutes tick by for nothing. I'll fall asleep at work, and it was all for nothing because it was just the worst dream I'd ever had. 

I reach for the switch on my bedside lamp, and I feel something warm and soft. And it's moving against my palm. Oh my god. The bat. A motherfucking bat. In my room. Under my hand. 

As I knock the lamp over, I wonder if I can take any more before going mad.

And finally, I can scream.

*

Author's Note: This is the true story of the scariest night of my life. It was twenty years ago, and I remember every minute. This is a 2014 Halloween Contest entry. Vote, if you like. Thanks!