Pussy Burglar (3)

She was naked, tied quite firmly to the bed. His bed. The bed that she’d had all but two seconds to get out of before he’d caught her again. The miserable fuck. Her clothing wasn’t strewn about on the floor. Oh no, not for this guy. He’d shredded it with that fucking Swiss Army knife, into chunks and ribbons until none of it would ever be wearable again. On the top of the pile the ace bandage with which she had bound her breasts lay in long strips, mocking her. It was that which had gotten her to this state.  Poking at the pile of debris with his toe and looking at her, he flashed her a smug look.

“Don’t worry about this, pussycat. You won’t need these anyway. I plan to keep you naked and right here for a long, long time.”

He’d smiled at her then. A smile that was feral, hungry, and just a bit mocking. As if he knew that this was terrifying.

And exciting.

How she hated to admit that to herself. But somewhere in the deepest darkest pit of her mind there was a tiny little spark that thrilled to being bested. Not in an “omg take me I’m yours” kind of way. This went deeper, into the animal part of her brain, where dark fantasies occasionally made their way to her dreams. Yet here she was, definitely not dreaming. His next words were hard reality, and chilling.

“Oh, by the way, pussycat–feel free to scream. The staff is away for a few days. They’re used to my occasional need for solitude. We’ll have plenty of that for the next few days. And as I’m sure you noticed while you were casing the joint, to speak in your vernacular, there are no neighbors.”

She stared at him, wanting to strike out at him, at the smartass bastard’s face. To poke him in the eyes, to bite and watch him struggle. To tie him to the bed and…and..she had no idea what. She glared at him as he stood there, smug asshole, staring down at her, looking at her body. Ogling her. Standing at the end of the bed holding a feather, for fuck sake, stripped down to plaid boxers.

“You look ridiculous. You look like an ass.”

All the epitaphs in the world and that was what came out of her mouth. She all but rolled her eyes at her lame response. He just smirked at her, holding the feather and examining it.

“It looks so silly, I know. A little feather like this, just fluttering in my fingers. But.”

He let the word hang there for a minute.

“In the right hands, pussycat, this will destroy your will. Remember what I promised you.”

Her eyes met his. Hell yes she remembered, but damned if she’d say as much to him. The fucking asshat. His eyebrow rose as they fought a silent, deadly war.

“I won’t beg you for anything, you jerk.”

“I guess we’ll see then, won’t we?”

He trailed the tip of the feather from her knee to her ankle along the inner curve of her calf. Her leg twitched at the barely-there touch. His eyes followed the gently curved tip of the pheasant feather. She was embarrassed and shocked to be here, bested by this….this…subhuman! And tied open, displayed. 

“You’re a real piece of work, you bastard,” she spat. “You need to let me go. NOW.”

There was no reaction other than a faint lift to the corner of his mouth. Her head rocked side to side, her wrists curled into fists, tugging on her restraints. She barely moved an inch, and wound up with a face full of hair for her struggles. She hoped he’d get mad, react to her, say something. Anything.

Yet his eyes only followed the path of the feather tickling over and around her calf and foot. It danced over her toes, making her hiss and try to wriggle away, but the tenacious thing followed her moves to evade, effortlessly.

“Stop!” The word came out as a giggle, but he didn’t even look at her.

“Please! Bastard!”

Over, around, teasing.

Wriggling. Writhing. Tugging. Laughing.

“Fuck! FUCK! omg…” This last as the feather caressed the bottom of her foot. Up and down the arch, under the toes, around the heel, then back up her calf.

This time it didn’t stop at her knee, but moved up her inner calf. Up, around, over the top, around towards the far side, then down, down to torment her other calf, her foot.

She laughed. Cried. Cried laughing. And laughing became begging as the tip caressed her belly. As it circled her belly button drawing ticklish figure eights around and around until she wanted to scream. And when she did, tears rolling down her cheeks, the tip of the feather flicked higher, teasing at the curve of ribs, the underside of one plump breast then the other.

She barely noticed when his finger entered her. Shuddered when his thumb began to rub her clit as the finger was joined with another, as it fluttered away inside her belly. It registered that the tickling on the outside resembled the tickling inside her but she was beyond caring.

Something inside her built to a furious frenzy. Her words were begging, panting things asking for who knew what; her nipples rose as if to join the pleas.

“I told you I would make you beg,” he said from a hundred miles away, as the orgasm crashed through her, sending her spinning into oblivion.

****************************************

She hated him.

When she woke from the spin through space, she was sweat soaked. Sex soaked. Shaking, curled on her side with his arm around her. He was naked. She was naked.  His fingers caressed her tits, pinching and pulling and twisting her nipples until the need grew deep between her legs. Her pussy throbbed and she whimpered aloud as his fingers trailed down her body to stroke her clit.

She begged again, hating him for it, for building the need so intensely. She’d never had sex with anyone that came even close to this.

He’d fucked her from behind as his hands continued to stroke and tease and hurt her tits, until he’d pulled out, and pushed her to her belly.

“Knees down, ass up, pussycat,” he’d said, tugging her into position.

“Wider.” Hands slapped her inner thighs and she moved them apart, feeling humbled by the exposure. He kept doing that, just kept finding ways to make her feel like …like a slut.

“I’m not your whore,” she’d mumbled, but of course he’d heard.

“You’re whatever I want you to be.”

The words were spoken in a quiet, firm voice, and shocking to absorb. There was no time to retort as he’d thrust his cock into her, the position allowing him to fill her deeper, rub all the right places. She swore she could have traced the shape of his cock along her belly he was so deeply embedded in her. His hips swiveled, making her gasp. His balls rubbed against her pussy lips, the gentle movement bumping her excited clit.

Gawd!

Never had she been fucked like this. She was full of him, surrounded by him, undone cell-by-cell by him. The orgasm built like a wave, like a nuclear burst. Her head was going to explode, as the pressure grew, the need to release just growing stronger. Yet he was holding back, just enough to keep her on the edge.

“Please,” she sobbed, “I’m so close…”

“Pussycat needs to cum, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, gawd yes…please…”

“If you insist…” His voice sounded dubious.

She was on fire, the need rippling through her like the promise of rain on a hot summer day.

“Yes, please, please yes…so…oh gawd…please…” her breath hissed out as she was there, just there, hanging on the very edge….yet she hadn’t expected what had come next.

He’d popped his thumb into her asshole.

On the heels of her outraged gasp of shock, her cunt clamped down on his shaft, and she’d had the orgasm of her life. She could feel the juices squirting from her, feel the quick hard throb as her anus protested the intrusion, feel her pussy squirming and twitching along the hard rigid length of him.

She could also feel him laughing.

She hated him.

At the Dentist

thank you Rose, for the idea and inspiration…~n~

He leaned over her. Her fingers were clenched in her lap.

“Relax.”

His voice was deep and soothing. His hand rested briefly on her shoulder, giving a little squeeze. He looked into her mouth, hmmming behind his mask. She closed her eyes. That made the dentist go away. Didn’t it?

“Breathe.”

Why was he giving her a facemask, she wondered. To check a sore tooth? She remembered that he’d used it before, and she had felt terrific afterwards. Her tooth gave a lurching throb and she took a short breath.

“Relax,” he said, squeezing her shoulder again. “It is easier for me to get into those deep back area’s when you’re just a bit out of it.”

She inhaled, the scent sweet and pungent. In seconds she felt floaty. The way she felt after an orgasm, actually. A few more breaths and she felt free, giddy. The mask was moved away.

“open”

There was a bit of scraping, a bit of a jab.

“Got it.” He waved something into her vision.

“A nasty little piece of nut,” he said, moving out of sight.

The words came from far away. She giggled. A hand stroked her tit. Squeezed. She moaned softly. Her chair lay back, further. Hands slid up the outside of her thighs, lifting her skirt.

“pretty panties”

The urge to giggle rose again but she stifled it. She shifted in her chair, needing. A large hand cupped her, the middle finger pressing against her clit. She moaned, arching, rising to press harder.

“naughty wanton slut”

‘hmmmmm’ she murmured. The ache in her tooth was gone. But the ache between her thighs remained, a steadily growing need to rise, to impale, to be filled. His fingers cupped, pressed harder. A fingernail scraped across the silk covering her plump pussy just over her throbbing clit, drawing a whimper from her mouth. A wet spot stained the red silk of her panties. That finger drew teasing circles over and around that sensitive bit of flesh, not quite touching it now. She shifted, trying to force more contact.

The mask fitted to her face again.

“Breathe”

In her mind, flowers fell from the sky with every breath, while heat bloomed between her legs. Her mouth opened, panting, as the crotch of her silken panties was pushed aside, as thick fingers were slowly inserted. Her “yessss” came out in a long hisssing sigh as the mask was removed.

Her legs fell to each side of the chair as she wordlessly begged for more, those fingers curling and jutting inside of her.

It wasn’t enough.

Her voice was a soft and husky whisper as she begged for more.

“Open,” he said, from far and away. The tap on her cheek reminded her to spread her lips. Tooth. Dentist.

Something thick and hard and heavy filled her mouth. She moaned around it as fingers rubbed her clit. Her head was lower than her feet now, the chair tilted far back. Yet that thickness thrusting, slow and steady, anchored her.

‘nailed her’, she thought, the pun of it making her want to giggle. She was giddy, and-and-and- suddenly soaring, exploding, her lower body arching as her cunt clenched around the fingers invading her.

She felt the slap of testicles against her head as he began to pump harder. He grunted now, nearing his end. She felt the thick head of his cock pressing deeper with every stroke, felt the clenching gag rise as he filled her throat. His fingers pinched her clit hard as she tried to toss her head, to seek breath as he held there, deep-seated.

The tang of semen washed against her tongue as he came, pulling out halfway before thrusting deeply and disgorging his load. Small mewling sounds and wriggling presaged her own explosion as his fingers clamped even harder onto her clit. The pain and pleasure sent her reeling over the edge.

*************************

Walking into her apartment, she pinned the card onto her fridge.

Follow-up examination

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

630 pm.

 

Newbie

Nerves tingled along her spine as she sat in her car. The engine was off, the faint pings of the motor cooling was accompanied by her rapid breath.

“Ree-diculous!” She said to herself, out loud, to shock herself out of this sudden attack of chicken knees. “Get up, get out, go in.”

That little mantra had gotten her this far. Newbie night at the club where the “alternative life-style” folks hung out. They had them every month but this was the first time she’d ever gotten the guts to attend.

Somehow her feet were on the pavement and walking towards the door. It was an ordinary door, nothing out of the wild side she’d often pictured in her mind’s eye. She’d be disappointed if it was just…a bar…inside.

*****************************

She hung on the periphery, where she could see, but not be noticed too much. The people-watching was phenomenal! Even if she didn’t get up to be a volunteer at some of these events, at least she’d made it this far. Watching the shibari guy had been amazing. For a moment there had been some regret that she’d not put her hand up, but hell, this was her first time admitting to herself that she was…different.

Normal people didn’t want to be tied up and fucked. Normal people didn’t wonder what a hard spanking would be like. Normal people didn’t crave crazy scenes where people did many painful, terrible, wonderfully sick things to one person. It was…totally fucked up. Her super-religious parents would  keel over in the shock and horror of it all. Oh, but she’d come a long way from Etna Alabama First Baptist Church since leaving home years ago. Leaving the south and heading north had changed her. First,  college, then her first really crappy job.  After a while a better opportunity came along, and an even better one still later. Years passed, and she climbed the ladder of success steadily. Boyfriends, girlfriends when she thought she might be a homo, more boyfriends, passed in and out of her life, but nothing quite gave her what she wanted.

Porn had.

Had filled the void between those sexual encounters. They weren’t much more than that. Just a getting to know someone, fuck them a month or maybe two, and move on. It was her more than them. Gods knew Kent would have loved sliding a ring on her finger.  But no. She didn’t want to wind up like her parents, married 187 years to the same person, same perfunctory sex every Saturday night.

Yet here she sat, shaking like a lamb as the crop slapped down on the woman’s body. Tied to an enormous cross, she judged her to be close to her own middle-age. The crop flew in a flurry of quick slaps that moved from her shoulders to her thigh. Missy winced in sympathy, even as she shifted on her stool. It looked like it hurt. It looked…hot as fuck.

“We don’t allow newbies to hide in the corners.”

The voice came from behind her but when she turned to look, a blindfold slipped over her head.

“Oh! But…”

“Time to explore, newbie.”

She was tugged off the bar stool, and led away.

********************************************************

At a loss for words, she didn’t say anything as she was pushed and pulled at the same time.

Two people, then,” she mused. She felt the press of bodies, the noise of the crowd, then the change to a quieter area. Here there were single moans, terse orders, the sounds of tools and implements being chosen, and employed. The sound of a door opening in front of her, closing.

“Look, I–”

“silence”

The word was spoken firmly. The voice was older, a bit raspy. Male. Footsteps moved around, circling her.

“Acceptable.”

Not spoken to her, yet she replied anyway.

“I am not here to be acceptable to anyone. I’m just…”

A fat ball was shoved between her teeth.

“Silence.”

“Unclothe it.”

Hands at her clothing now, pulling and tugging. She tried to struggle, but her wrists were grasped and held, her legs caught in the fall of clothing around her ankles. Dragged along the floor, she moaned around the gag, until she felt the cool press of something beneath her as she was shoved down. Quickly wrists and ankles were grabbed, snapped into position, secured. Shaking her head, muttering, did nothing.

“Put these on her.”

The jingle made her wonder, but it wasn’t a long wait for her curiosity to be relieved. And for her nipples to protest the sudden pinch of the clamps that bit into them.

A large hand grabbed her breast and squeezed. The pressure on her nipple increased. She moaned.

“Don’t fight it so much. In the end we will both get what we want. You came for fantasy, for sex. As did we. You will not be harmed. Hurt, yes. But no permanent injury will mar you. And after this you will be a newbie no more, eh?

 

 

Alone

The roar of her vacuum was surpassed by the song pouring into her earbuds. Singing along to her favorite oldies, she swayed and hip-bumped her way around the classroom. Friday night, and the kids must have had some extra fun today, as there was glitter everywhere. It felt like she’d never get all the sparkles out of the carpet; she knew her boss didn’t expect perfection, but she did. At long last the bulk of the rug was clean if not totally sparkle-free. Unplugging the machine, she wound the cord, still singing to the music pulsing in her ears. The long corridor leading back to the maintenance closet was semi-dark. She had turned off every other light on her way in; she didn’t mind working in the half-light. She did popped the lights on to see while she worked in an area, then popped them off again when done. The principal like that she was saving energy.

Next on her agenda was washing the floors. Three bathrooms and a classroom needed a good scrub, then she would be done for the night.

She didn’t need the light on in here,  in what she privately thought of as her ‘office’.  She knew exactly where every one of her tools went. Stepping into the room, she shut the door. Right next to the wall studs, she slotted the machine into its proper place, then turned to head to the closet across the hall, where her wash bucket was.

The arms came around her before she could open the door, one hand covering her mouth. Fingers tugged a bud out of her ear.

“Sssshhh. It’ll be fast. Hard, deep, rough…but fast.” The voice was guttural, rough.

In one ear blasted the tune where someone was rocking the night away, in the other, the sibilant whisper that sent whimpers through her nose.

“Open your mouth.”

She shook her head, but he held her nose until she gasped for breath. Something was stuffed into her mouth, wedged deep so she couldn’t spit it out.

“My undies make a nice gag. I had beans for lunch so I farted in them a lot, and there might be a skid or two there, but you know how it is. Gags are expensive and undies…are handy. Especially since I won’t need to wear them while I’m fucking you.”

Shaking her head didn’t dislodge them. She felt bile rising, and by sheer dint of will, pushed it down.

“This will hold you.”

She heard a funny sound, a thunk, and realized that he’d slid her extra long vacuum cord off its hook. In the moment or two it had taken to figure it out, she shook herself. ‘Run, you moron!’ she shouted to herself in her head. A step, two, to the door. Fumbling for the door, the handle slid out of her fingers, then pulled open. A step into the corridor and moments from the stairs, his arms came around her again, tugging her back into her closet.

“Naughty girl.”

The cord was wound around her hands, half-way to her elbows, then looped over a nail behind the door, where her broom usually hung.  His hands worked quickly at her jeans. The cool breeze of the room on her ass was shocking. She was hot, burning with fear-fever. The first swat of something on her thigh made her knees give out, but the cord held her.

“Bad girls get a beating.”

It was unclear what he was hitting her with but it hurt like hell. In her minds eye, she pictured her closet. It had to be the thin dowel she used on the high windows for catching cobwebs. Her thighs bore the brunt of the blows. She would have screamed, may have screamed as he beat his way up and down the back of each leg. The last few blows fell where her ass and legs met, an especially tender spot. For a moment, there was nothing. She breathed hard through her nose, trying to slow her erratically pounding heart. Hurt. Hurt so fucking much. Maybe he would go now, though a quiet corner of her mind wondered why he’d only hit her legs.

He stepped close, she felt the heat of him behind her. As if he could read her mind, he spoke.

“I’m saving your ass for something special.”

She felt his dick probing her. His hands on her hips, tugging her back, impaling her on his shaft. It was rough, his entry into her cunt, yet she felt her moisture slicking his strokes. Her clit trembled.

Hands snaked up from her hips, up under the plain white tee she favored for work. Her bra was tugged up, her breasts falling free. Fingers grabbed, pawing at the bouncing flesh, pinching her tender nipples.

She came hard, her cunt clamping down on his probing cock.

His hips moved fast, piston-quick, boring into her deepest belly with quick, hard thrusts. His fingers coiled tight on her tits as he paused, hip-thrusted deep, as deep as he could fill her, as he exploded.

Shockwaves echoed through her as he pulled out, the sound wet and sucking.

He moved to the side, one arm looping around her waist. Fingers probed at her pussy, scooping wetness and pushing it into her ass. Her mumbled words were incoherent, but obviously was not a beg for more of the dark caress. Yet his fingers continued to work around her puckered butthole.

Something cold and hard pressed steadily into her bottom. It grew wider, wider, stretching her ass and making her squeal behind the gag. He pushed until she felt something tickling her ass cheeks.

“You look like a little bunny, with your dust wiper shove up your shithole. You keep that in there now.”

His laugh was dark, mean. As if she could shit out the long length of the handle. A handle that fit nicely in her hand, but was far less than comfortable in her ass. He tugged something over her head. One of her heavy-duty black trash bags. She panicked, but he didn’t tighten it, just left it there.

“That bag won’t impede your breathing if you don’t struggle too much. Now I’m going to spank you.”

He stepped away.  She heard the snap of the light switch, saw her jeans gathered around her feet, saw the floor, but that was all. No one would see him. There were no windows in here, no one left at school to notice that she hadn’t washed the floors. She’d told her family to expect her late tonight as Fridays always took extra cleaning time.

The bag muffled sounds, distorted them with the crinkle of plastic. The one earbud blared out a rock anthem from the 70’s. The first swat of a belt on her bare bottom came as a shock. Her body jolted. It was apparent that he was holding nothing back.

Burning.

Aching.

Fire. Her ass was on fire. Her asshole throbbed. She’d cum several times, her juices leaking down her thighs. There was no sense of how long he had beat her ass.  She was dizzy from an inadequate air supply, from cumming so hard. He’d turned her once, pressing against the plastic and kissing her through it, making each breath she attempted to draw an agony of fear.

And he’d fucked her again. Hard, with the dusting wand  still buried deeply in her ass.  She’d cum then, too.

“Fucking whore,” he’d said.

“Needy greedy sluthole” he called her.

He’d uncoiled the cord from her hands, wrapped it around her throat, holding her breath hostage.

Her heart pounded in her ear, the one not listening to ‘oh what a night it was’.  Beyond, was that the slam of the outer door? She grabbed for the cord, pulling and tugging it from around her, tearing at the bag to get it off her head before she blacked out. OUT came the horrid underwear he’d gagged her with.

Carefully, she pulled the duster from her backside, and threw that in the trash. The handle was flecked with shit, the fluffy side was wet with cum. She’d never look at one again without remembering this.

She ran to her closet, filled her mouth with water, rinsing, rinsing, clearing the taste of his poo, the salty tang of his pee-speckled underwear from her tongue. Saw her mop bucket ready. Resigned, she filled it with hot soapy water.  Still shaking, she mopped the floors. Responsibility was too ingrained to just leave them undone. People counted on her to make sure the building was clean and sparkling for classes on Monday. The throbbing in her bottom moved in time to the scrub-scrub-scrub of her mop.

**************************************

Her kids kissed her and hugged her goodnight as her husband shepherded them into bed. She was bone weary, on the verge of tears. She wanted a shower. Stripping off her clothing as she closed the door to their bedroom, she moved into their bathroom and flicked on the water. Hot. She needed the heat to quell the shivers that seemed to come from her pussy, making her tremble. Dumping her soiled jeans, her tee-shirt, her underwear into the hamper, she stepped quickly into the hot stream. It poured over her, through her hair, over her face, down her aching tits, over her welted bottom.

“I’m coming in!”

Before she could stop him, her husband stepped in behind her.

“Babe?”

She turned, blinking water, and perhaps some secret tears,  away.

“I thought you might need a new one. But for now, I can use it to scrub your back. Or your front. Or….fuck you with it….”

He held up the twin to her school duster, waving it back and forth in front of her face, before turning it shaft up and making a “shoving it up” gesture. Her eyes widened, her mouth opened in a O before “bastard!” spurted from her lips.

He laughed as she tried to punch him.

 

Overtime

She muttered to herself as she shuffle papers. Didn’t matter that everyone else was gone for the night, home to family, out with friends. Some to watch the World Series on tv, some off to a run.

Maybe some were having sex.

She wished she was having sex. With some hot stud. Maybe Michael from bookkeeping. He was a sexy guy, tall, built, and what hinted at an impressive package under his khakis. She sighed, reached for her antacid pills, banged her phone with her elbow, and in catching it, managed to drop almost half her papers to the floor.

“Well FUCK!” 

She swiveled back in her chair, surveying the damage. Squatting on the floor trying to find the order of the fucking things, she let out an impatient sigh when the lights went out.

“NOT FUNNY! I’m here! TURN THEM ON!”

She squatted, waiting.

Nothing.

Was that a footstep? Isn’t this the scene where the girl gets offed, in a horror flick, because she doesn’t beat feet and get out of there in a hurry?

There was a noise behind her. Before she could move, something came over her head. In seconds, she was tugged up to her feet, shoved into a chair. Her chair, from the lingering warmth under her butt. Struggling, flailing out with her hands, trying to get the thing off her head, she felt the cuff slap on her left wrist, her wrist tugged behind her back, behind the support of the chair. It only took a moment for her right wrist to be cuffed too. She yelled. Tried shaking her head to loosen her blindfold, nothing.

To her distress, she heard the unmistakable sound of duct tape being ripped.

“What are you doing? Stop! Let me go. NOW!”

The steady peel and rip of duct tape was the only sound.

“HELLLLP!”

No one came.

No one was there, in the building.

Except her.

And him.

She trembled. A few minutes ago she’d been dreaming of having sex with some one. And now she was being — well, she didn’t know what was happening. She hated the fearful tone in her voice as she pleaded with him to let her go.

Her ankle was caught, her leg hooked up and over the chair arm and wrapped with tape. Kicking out with her free foot, that too was caught. He held it under his arm as she struggled and whimpered and screamed. Her foot was freed.

He pulled off her shoe, and rubbed the sole of her foot over his pants. She felt the thick bulge pressing against her foot. Obviously her struggles were turning him on.

“You sick bastard.”

He laughed then, the first sound he’d made, as he secured her ankle over the opposite chair arm. She was open, vulnerable.

Her cunt lurched as his palm cupped her through her panty hose. His thumbnail rasped against the fabric, making a pleasant little hmmm against her sensitive flesh.

There was  a metallic click, then the cool rush of air on her pussy.

“No!”

Though she twisted and writhed, in moments, her shirt had also been cut apart. His hands on her tits were rough, pinching and pulling on her soft skin. Grasping her nipples, she was tugged forward.

“Whore.”

The tug on her nipples was almost too much to bear. She cried out, begging for him to stop.

“Hurts…please…”

His thumb slid into her slick cunt.

“Hurts? Very wet.”

She tried to place the voice, but the thumb in her pussy was distracting her. She didn’t want this. She…

“moaaannn…”

More fingers inside her, wiggling insidiously, rubbing her sensitive folds, making her belly quiver. She would not cum. She would not cum. She would not…

The hum of a motor startled her, even more so when something pushed hard against her pussy.

Her head fell back, helpless at the assault on her senses. Too much, too good, too terrible. Whimpers and moans came faster, as her cunt clenched on the probing fingers, as the buzzing vibe did it’s best to coax a reaction from her.

She was going to cum. She was so close. So close.

Yet, abruptly, the vibe was pulled away, the fingers left her pussy.

“oh, nooooo…” she moaned.

His cock filled her. Hard, thick, deep up into her belly, he drove hard enough to push her chair back. And back again. Until it fetched up against some immovable object.

“Going to fill you…”

She moaned.

“With my baby-makers…”

She moaned.

“Fill you with those swimmers…”

Oh god she didn’t want..she shuddered…

“Fill your belly with my baby…”

She came, hard, as his cock parried her every contraction, stabbing into her with rapier skill. Over and again he sheathed into her hot slickness, banging hard on the entrance to her innermost secret place.

“Going to push my seeds right up to your front door….

Her head rolled from side to side, her hands, still behind her, clenched into fists as the pleasure rolled through her. Fuck, fuck, fuck, her mind screamed, though what came from her mouth was more “ughn, ungh, ungh…”.

She swore she could feel the pulsing jettison of his semen into her body. His head leaned against hers as he shimmied his hips driving deeper into her, as if he could shoot his load straight through her.

How many times her body convulsed around him, she had no idea. She must have fainted.

*****************

She woke, forehead on her desk.

Blinking, yawning, she wondered why she was sleeping at work. Her papers…yet, looking around she saw them all neatly stacked on her desk. Her pussy throbbed, and she remembered, with a sudden rush, her dream. Her hand went to her blouse, but all her buttons were buttoned. In her dream “he” had cut them off, she recalled. Geezus. It was time to call it a night. The clock on her phone said “2:01 a.m.”  No wonder she’d fallen asleep!

She rose, then, and took a wobbly step. One shoe was off. Must’ve come off in my sleep, she mused, bending over to retrieve it from under her desk.

She felt the breeze on her pussy as she bent, and froze. Her hand reached up under her skirt. There was a large hole in her pantyhose. Maybe it had been there all day? The crotch of her panties were soaked.

“Fucking wet dream,” she muttered, but her heart raced. Quickly she gathered up her belongings and almost ran outside to her car.  Fumbling with the keys, she threw her purse on the passenger seat, and slid into the driver’s side. Moving to adjust the rear view, her hand touched the roll of silver duct tape hanging there.