A Quiet Evening at Home

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A big surprise occurs when she arrives home.
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Joan Hawkins drove her late-model Prius into her subdivision after work on a early December evening. The sun had already set and her neighborhood was quite dark. She could see the bluish flickers of her neighbors who had already started watching TV. It had been a long day at her job as an administrator at the local community college and she was looking forward to a quiet evening, perhaps with a couple of very dry martinis.

She was in early sixties and kept herself in good shape. She had been divorced ten years earlier (it should have been twenty years earlier she told her friends). At five-four, one-thirty, with blue eyes and grayish-white hair she kept in a Hillary Clinton look she still thought of herself as an attractive woman. Every now and then, someone at the college would try to fix her up with someone. They usually turned out to be losers, just like her ex-husband.

Joan was wearing a yellow lambswool cardigan, a white blouse, a knee-length black woolen skirt, black thigh-high stockings, and black knee-high leather boots. After she had pulled her car into her garage and pushed the button on the remote to lower the garage door, she gathered up her big purse and her laptop case and opened up the door that led into her kitchen.

She had only taken a couple of steps before a leather-gloved hand covered her mouth and she felt a sharp poke in her back.

"MMPPPPHHH!!!" she yelped.

"Just be quiet," a low, authoritative voice told her. "Feel that in your back?"

Joan nodded.

"If you don't cause me any trouble, you won't get hurt. Understand?"

She nodded again.

"I'm just your run-of-the-mill burglar and, unfortunately for you, you have waltzed in here before I was done helping myself to your stuff. I'm going to have to tie you up but, if you are a good girl, you'll be fine and you'll be able to call your insurance company pretty quickly. OK?"

Joan managed a shaky sound into the burglar's hand and nodded her head in meek compliance. The man was obviously bigger and stronger than her and she knew she had little choice but to obey.

"Good," the man said and slid both her purse and her laptop bag off her shoulders and onto the floor while keeping his hand over her mouth.

"Now, open up," he ordered and when Joan obeyed, some kind of cloth went into her mouth.

"Keep it there," she was told and she felt her sweater-covered arms pulled behind her and first, she felt, then she heard handcuffs being placed around her wrists and locked in place.

She was spun around and saw that her captor was a tall, thin man dressed entirely in black, from some kind of soft-soled shoes up through a black woolen ski cap that he had pulled over his face. All Joan could see, in her excited, frightened state, were his blue eyes.

He reached into his pocket and came out with a small roll of silver duct tape. He tore off a six-inch long strip and placed it over Joan's lips. Then he repeated the process, smoothing out the strips of tape with a couple of surprisingly gentle strokes of his fingers.

"My, my," he said, laughing. "You are pretty good-looking—for an older woman that is."

Joan's eyes widened involuntarily and she wriggled and squirmed in his grasp causing him to laugh again. "Don't bother my dear," she was told, "I'm in charge here and you will do what I want."

He half-dragged her over to her couch and sat her down, again, rather gently she thought. He knelt down in front of her and, surprising her once again, proceeded to take off her leather knee-high boots.

"All the better to tape your ankles together," he told her. "Sorry about the stockings though. I am afraid they won't be much good after the tape comes off."

He then brought her purse over to the couch and rifled through it, extracting her cash and then examining her driver's license.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Ms. Joan Hawkins," he said. "And, of course, thank you for your cash, your jewelry and whatever else I decide to take with me."

He looked her up and down, causing her to avert her gaze. He stood up and told her, "Nice sweater and even nicer breasts underneath the wool."

All Joan could do was make a few feeble sounds into her gag as the burglar caressed her shoulders and then her breasts.

"Don't go anywhere Joan," he said, laughing once again. "I'll be back in a little while."

Joan squirmed in frustration on the couch as she heard the burglar's footsteps above her in her bedroom. She knew she was totally helpless. There was no escape from the combination of the handcuffs and the tape that bound her legs together. The gag was more than effective and, she realized in dismay as her tongue probed the cloth stuffing, that a pair of panties, perhaps even her own, were preventing her from crying for help.

She then realized that she had a glimmer of hope. Her cell phone was still in her purse which was only a couple of feet away from her on the couch. She slid over to the purse and tried to work her fingers into the purse.

She grunted into her gag with the effort and, after a minute or two of trying, felt her fingers touch the phone. Unfortunately, at the moment, the burglar came down the stairs.

"Well, well," he said, in a calm voice as he took the purse away from her, "aren't you the feisty one. But, my dear, I am afraid that means your bondage will have to be ratcheted up some. After all, there are consequences to our actions aren't there."

Joan stared at him, wondering what exactly he meant.

"Mmmmppphh!"

This was in response to his kneeling before her and ripping off the tape that bound her ankles. Another "mmmppphhh" of protest came when he ran a hand up her legs and left it on one of her inner thighs.

He laughed and said, "Get used to it Ms. Hawkins. You are the helpless one in this little drama, in case you have forgotten. And, as I told you before, you are quite a good-looking woman."

Joan soon found herself on her feet with her captor standing behind her, once again holding her by her sweater-covered shoulders. He produced a black woolen scarf from his pocket and tied it over her eyes, blindfolding her. This caused her to whimper into her gag as she realized he had taken her to another level of helplessness.

Her dismay was immediately compounded as she realized that her fingers had come in contact with what could only be a raging hard-on in the burglar's pants.

She heard him laugh again and knew that he had felt her touch and her realization of his arousal. His lips touched one of her earlobes and he whispered, "Can you guess what the consequences might be?"

A soft "mmppphh" and a nod of her head told him that she knew exactly what was about to happen. He stroked her shoulders for a while, drawing her even more against his body. One of his hands played with her sweater-covered breast and she felt his lips gently kiss the back of her neck.

"Oh my," Joan thought to herself as she felt a stirring deep inside her, "I am about to be fucked by this intruder and all I can think of is how nice it feels to be kissed right there once again."

The burglar took his captive by the arm and led her across the room to the foot of the stairs. He took off her blindfold so that she could make her way up the stairs, his strong hand still holding her arm. The blindfold was put back in place at the top of the stairs and he led her into her bedroom.

"Nice bed, by the way," he said laughing. "I have always been a fan of king-sized, canopy beds. Pink, however, is not really my favorite color but I think, given the circumstances, I can adjust."

Joan quickly found herself face-down on her bed, still blindfolded and gagged, her wrists still cuffed behind her back. She felt his confident hands as he unzipped her skirt and pulled it off her. Next her stocking were removed and she knew that he was going to be surprised to find just how wet she was when he removed her panties.

He saved that treat for a few minutes as he got the helpless older woman into position. He uncuffed her, rolled her over onto her back, pulled her arms around in front of her and the re-cuffed her wrists. Then he attached a rope to the cuffs and pulled her arms over her head and tied the rope to the bed rail. Joan moaned into her gag and squirmed in anticipation of him touching her.

He sat on the bed next to her and was fondling her sweater-covered breasts when he said, in response to yet another moan, "My my sweetie, I do believe you are enjoying this treatment."

Joan nodded and then she felt his hands move from her breasts amd make their way down to her panties. As the panties were slid down her legs, she moaned again.

"Just as I thought," the burglar said, "you are as wet as can be and ready to be fucked, aren't you?"

Joan nodded vigorously, her "please, please" coming out as "mmmppphh! Mmmppphhh!"

She felt him get on the bed and then felt her legs being spread apart. The burglar kissed her taped mouth, then the front of her neck and then each of her sweater-covered breasts. His fingers played with her hair for a while and then she felt the tip of his cock positioned exactly where she wanted it to be.

"MMMPPHHH!! MMMPPHH!"

He laughed at his bound, gagged, blindfolded captive. "You are really are something sweetie," he told her. "Don't worry, you are going to get all of it right now!"

His cock slid easily into her, ever so slowly. She wriggled and squirmed, trying to make him go fast but he was in charge and there was nothing she could do about the face of this particular fuck.

When he was fully inside her, he stopped and she could tell he was enjoying every minute of this and had probably been hard from the moment he put his hand over her mouth.

Slowly, he began to move his cock back and forth inside her.

"Oh my God," Joan thought to herself, this will not take me long.

The burglar stepped up his pace as if could sense how close the bound and gagged woman under him was to climax. He dug in his toes on the mattress pushed even deeper.

Joan was right and it did not take long before she felt the crescendo build inside her and she had been around enough blocks to know that he would be exploding soon as well.

He continued his work, much more quickly now, and then he spurted, again and again and again and again, inside his blindfolded sex partner. He felt her shudder and heard her "YESSSSSSSSSSSSSs" muffled by her gag into a series of loud "MMMPPPHHs!"

He held his finishing position for a a little while and then lowered his head onto her sweater-covered shoulder. They both let their breathing subside and then he rose up and gently peeled off both strips of tape and took out the sodden panties that had been stuffed in his captive's mouth. He then reached over and grabbed the handcuff keys that he had placed on her nightstand and unlocked both cuffs.

"Shall I make a pitcher of martinis my dear?"

Joan laughed as he took off the blindfold. "Of course, Anthony, I seem to have developed quite a thirst all of sudden."

Anthony, Joan's next-door neighbor, a fifty-five year old widower, who had moved in just over a year ago, said, "Yes, nothing beats a quiet evening at home does it?"

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