this is a story of fantasy, the author doesn’t condone real rape. Rape is a heinous crime that deserves to be prosecuted and punished to the full extent of the law. If you lack the maturity to distinguish between fantasy and reality, you also lack the maturity to read this story.
Neighbors
Heather O’Leary balanced her laundry basket against the wall while fiddling with her keys trying to unlock her apartment door.
“Let me give you a hand my dear.” she heard from behind. No reason to turn around, she recognized the voice of Mr. Willard her next door neighbor. A sweet older man of perhaps sixty. Ever since she had moved into the apartment building three months ago, he had been nothing but friendly and helpful to her. It was almost weird, people in NYC were not supposed to be that friendly. It’s what she had always had heard, and the 23 years of her life hadn’t yet given her enough reason to doubt cliches. After all weren’t all Irish supposed to be red haired, and despite her being third generation Irish American, her shoulder length hair was of a particular bright orange red color.
Heather considered declining, but dropped her key at just that moment. Her neighbor swiftly moved past her and bent down to pick up the key. Deftly inserted it into the keyhole and unlocked the door, proceeded to open it and indicated her to enter. Heather felt her arms growing tired of holding her heavy load, she swept forward entering her apartment. She put the basket down in her living room and turned around to get her key and close the door.
Willard stood in the in the doorway and smiled at her, keeping his eyes roaming over her. Heather considered that she wore her normal outfit for a Friday evening at home. A light blue tube top, and short shorts and flip flops. She was suddenly very aware of the fact of not wearing a bra. Getting the door closed on this kind Gentleman felt suddenly very important. She reached out for her key.
“Thank you so much Mr. Willard. I’d really wished the landlord would fix the elevator. Hauling this load up from the basement is always a tiresome chore. I can never be sure, that i don’t lose half of my stuff on the stairs.” Heather laughed at that, as indeed some of her socks and panties had gone missing over the last few months.
“That cheap bastard is promising to fix the elevator for 4 years now, so I wouldn’t get my hopes up my dear. Perhaps you should visit him one day, those shorts might make him weak.”
“I’m not sure I heard you right” Heather shot back.
“Those things were called Daisy Dukes when I was a young man, and I must admit i have seen few ladies wearing them as nicely as you do.” Willard’s smile turned more into a grin.
“I really need to get one with my laundry Mr. Willard, thanks again for your help.”
Closed the door, but hit an unexpected resistance before it could fully close. Looking down she saw the tip of a leather show blocking the path. With a sudden jerk the door was pushed inward, and Heather was slammed against the wall. Willard strode into the apartment and kicked the door shut with the heel of his foot. The sound of the door slamming shut sounded like pistol shot.
Heather stared at her neighbor, that kindly looking elderly man, who never really had looked actually frail, but the average height and silvery hair had distracted her from the solid appearance and the sinewy arms. As he bent over her fallen from Heather tried to scramble away, to get back onto her feet. He grabbed her by the chin, a calloused finger caressing her cheek.
“I always felt we needed to get better acquainted my dear.”
“What do you want from me. If its money you want, all I have is in my purse.”
His hand slid down to her throat, and his grip was like iron.
“I have enough money for my needs, what I want is a closer acquaintance with you. It’s three months now that your hot little ass is living next door, and watching you through the peep hole in the shower while wanking in the underwear I nicked from your laundry doesn’t satisfy anymore.”
Heather started to try to tear herself free.
“You can struggle all you want. All of you is weighing less than the slabs of meat I handle all day at the slaughter house. It might not build flashy muscles, but real strength.”
Heather started to scream, she called “Rape!” “Help” “Fire” but Willard only laughed and backhanded her. Continued to slapping her until she stopped yelling.
“That’s better, I would have said put a sock into it, but you aren’t wearing any, and going through your clean laundry doesn’t excite me that much. It’s Friday evening, there aren’t to many tenants at home to hear you in the first place. But if you keep this up I will find something to stuff in there.”
“Please” Heather whimpered “Please don’t hurt me.”
“I have no intention to hurt you, there isn’t anything on the menu you aren’t equipped to handle. So if you cooperate, there won’t be a need to hurt you. Did I make myself clear?”
Heather only nodded, it felt to much to actually reply to him.
“Then let’s this show get started.” He grabbed her tube top and yanked it down, exposing her breasts to his leering eyes.
“My, my isn’t that a sight for sore eyes.”
“Get up! I’m to old to mess around on the floor.”
While still holding her by the throat, he allowed her to get back onto her feet. Her heavy breasts swinging around freely. He grabbed on of them and weighed it in his hand, closing his hand, determining it’s firmness. In short just treating it like a choice peace of meat.
“Ah nothing like a pair of big young tits. Tell me my dear, are those pink nipples very sensitive” He ran his thumb along one, just in case she didn’t understand what part of her body he was talking about.
“Yes …, yes they are.”
“Sir” he added
“What do you mean” Heather was truly confused.
“till this day you have been always be very polite to me. I see no reason to change that now, as we get better acquainted. You call your elders and your betters Madam or Sir. I think i qualify for both.”
“I hadn’t pegged you for a madam.” Heater shot. To immediately howl up as he twisted her nipple sharply.
“Don’t get cute with me, do you understand.”
Yes,… sir" tears were rolling down her cheeks.
“That’s better, now loose those shorts. As I have currently my hands full” he applied equal pressure to her throat and breast.
Heather started to struggle more as the hand on her throat was restricting her air supply. Willard’s hand tightened mercilessly. And he spoke very calmly “Drop those pants, before I get annoyed with you.”
She started to fumble with the button, needing several attempts to open it, then the zipper, finally she pushed the shorts down, past her hips until they slid down her shapely legs and came to lie at her feet. Stepping out of them was the next logical step, and she did it without being told.
“Cute flowers” Willard commented and Heather knew what he was talking about as she wore powder blue panties with daisies printed on them. Not exactly the sexy lingerie she would have chosen to display to a date, but then this was only having very little in common with a date.
“Give them to me.” Willard ordered
“What” Heather’s bewilderment was obvious.
“Give me your panties. I was only ever able to steal, clean ones from the dryer. No I want a pair with a bit more personal note.”
“Please don’t make me do this, … sir”
Heather didn’t get an answer, other than a further tightening around her windpipe. She hooked her thumb into the waistband and slid the last piece of clothing protecting her dignity down. letting it fall to the floor and picking it up with her foot, to raise it back towards her hand. Willard took it rapidly from her and held it close to his nose, taking a deep whiff.
“So much better finally something that smells of the most intimate you, not that boring laundry detergent you use. Don’t you agree?”
He pressed the piece of cotton into her face, and she grimaced.
“Sure you are acquainted to the perfume, but to an old geezer like myself there is nothing like the smell of a young and fresh cunt. Speaking of which …”
He put the panties in his pocket, and slid a hand between her legs, moving it higher until he reached her entirely hairless sex.
“No nest of red curls? Such a pity I had looked forward to sink my dick into a fire crotch. But I should have expected that of a slut like you.”
Heather kept silent.
His fingers brushed against her labia, before he started to push inside her. She felt the unwelcome invasion into her most private spot.
“Shaved like a slut, but tight as a school girl. How did you manage that my dear, doesn’t feel like you had much experience here. Did you blew all those suitors all off, or taking it up the back door?”
Heather was shocked. it was true that she never had a lot of lovers going all the way. In high school the guy dating her had been easy enough to please with her boobs. No need to swallow anything, and absolutely zero chances of pregnancies. She never ever had even entertained the thought of what Willard had just suggested.
“No need to reply, because I don’t really care. Let’s relocate to your bedroom. I’m to old to fuck around on the furniture or floor.”
He dragged her along towards the only other internal door in the apartment leading to her bed room. As all the apartments had the same floor plan he was essentially as acquainted with hers as his own. He pushed her through and tossed her onto the queen sized bed. Before she had any time to react to her regained freedom we was on top of her. Pinning her down with his weight, he started to undo his pants and freed his erection, enjoying the situation tremendously. He hadn’t been this close to a pretty young pussy in years, and he felt he would have been hard even without the help of his little blue friend he had popped, seeing Heather through the spy hole in his door. But nothing of that mattered now, all that mattered where six inch of rock hard meat, that screamed for relief.
And relief he was going to get. His sigh of pleasure of sinking into Heather’s silken folds was mixed with her sounds of discomfort. But he didn’t care how much it hurt her, dry fucking such a tight passage was always pleasing. Her moans were actually a real turn on for him. He continued to increase the speed of pounding her. In and out. Out and in. Faster and faster, her crying getting louder, but he also felt her body to respond. The friction got less, the moving got smoother and wet sounds emerged from where their body were joined.
He felt he was close, but needed to go a bit further and especially faster. Faster and deeper, until he felt deep inside him an eruption, like he had never felt before.
Then came the pain in the left arm and chest, and with a final convulsion he shot his load and collapsed on top of the red haired woman.
After Heather had worked herself out from under Willard’s body she first called the police and upon some reflection an ambulance, hoping fervently it would come to late.
the END.
