It was not a perfect marriage by any means, but they worked through most troubles hand in hand. The fifteen year marriage had one trouble spot that seemed unmanageable.
Brit was simply unable to achieve orgasm during sex with hubby, George. Try as he did, nothing seemed to work.
to ease the mounting frustration, Brit would rub one off when George was gone, but then her strict Catholic upbringing would attack her conscience.
George kissed Brit goodbye and headed for an out of town training seminar. Late Friday evening, Brit emerged from the shower, a loose robe concealing her naked body.
At 35, Brit still had a firm body with nice 38 cup toys and a pear shaped ass. She was running the towel briskly through her hair when everything went black.
In an instant, the towel was ripped from her and, a hour put over her head, and her arms pulled back behind her and clasped together at the wrists.
A gruff voice warned her to be quiet. She felt his hands roam over her shoulders, parting the robe, then moving to her bare breasts. Her chest heaved as he kneaded and toyed at her tender nipples.
In one swift move, the robe was rent from her body and she stood naked and helpless while a total stranger fondled her. She gasped aloud as his hands now moved between her legs, rubbing her soft lips and teasing her clitoral hood.
All too soon she felt herself being marched down the hall. In the bedroom she was laid in her back. Her arms spread wide and fastened, then her legs spread wide and bound.
Her breathing was labored and heavy as she felt his warm breath on her pussy. His tongue slowly traced the lips bringing new stirrings inside.
As he lapped at her cunt, she involuntarily began riding her hips to meet him. She blushed in shame at her growing response.
Who could it be? She was being raped but her body was responding to it. Her mind was in torment as his skilled tongue lapped at her sex.
As her warm juices begun to seep from her swollen lips, he made his move. She felt his cock slip inside. It was big and meaty.
In slow but determined thrusts he began fucking Brit as she strained at the bonds securing her arms and legs.
Harder, faster, deeper. He pounded her like it was going out of style. A hand went beneath her and clutched her bare ass. A finger teases at her anus. She was in sensual overload.
Then it happened. She squirted. Half cum, half pee, she didn’t know and didn’t care. It soaked the bed between her legs. The folds of her ass lay in a warm puddle.
Her assailant pulled out and she felt his sticky cum shoot all over her tits and stomach.
And felt the bonds being released. Had rolled her over onto her stomach, parted her ass checks and begin to run her puckered nub.
As he did this, he forced her to masturbate her already soaked pussy. A s her body shuddered from another orgasm, and felt the prick of the needle on one of her butt checks. Everything went black.
She awoke hours later, her rapist long gone. She slowly pulled the hood from her head and sat up.
The large wet puddle in the bed made her blush. It was proof her ordeal wasn’t a dream.
She could still smell his masculine scent hanging in the air
George was overwhelmed when he returned Sunday evening. In the bedroom she mounted his cock and rode it like never before. She came like a wanton whore as his dick pounded her hungry cunt.
Strange how things work out.
