Desire

~The subject of this story is one that may anger some people. I do not condone it in any way, its simple fantasy, nothing more, nothing less.~

After a few minutes of struggling the key finally turns, the lock clicks and the door swings wide open under the weight of our bodies. We stumble inside the dark corridor and my clumsy fingers loose grip, the keys hitting the floor. I lean over, giggling, balancing on one foot, trying to pick them up, but at the same time trying to support your body, until I loose balance. It's enough to make me fall, pulling you after me and we land hard on the cold wooden floor, knees and elbows hitting the ground with loud thump. I hear you swear:

"Christ, Kat..."

I giggle, suddenly the whole situation seems hilarious to me. "Well, I got you home, don't start complaining," I say, rubbing my sore and aching knee. "I think I broke something!" I complain and look up.

You're laid across the doormat, partially inside, partially outside, feet still on the front step, porch light illuminating your handsome face. Your tie is crooked and the top buttons of your shirt are undone, your creased suit jacket next to you on the floor, your hair messy and sparkly glitter still stuck to your cheek. You're laid on your side, supporting yourself on your elbow, relaxed, smiling at me wide and clearly very, very drunk.

"What are you smiling at?" I ask.

"Nothing, babes," you answer, still grinning. "Good evening, eh? Was great to see everyone... Christ, haven't seen Joe for what, five years?" you continue and suddenly your eyes light up. "You look amazing tonight, did I tell ya?" you ask, speech slightly slurry from too much alcohol. You lean forward, pick my hand up and lift it to your lips. Your mouth touches the skin and a thrill runs down my spine, causing goosebumps to stand up on my arms.

"Yes, you did, my prince charming! A hundred and sixty five times, and I thanked you hundred and sixty five times too!" I giggle. It's wonderful to see adoration in your eyes. "It was a great evening. I'm glad we went."

We had spend the evening in the company of your work colleagues, at the leaving party of one of the longest working employees. It was wonderful to catch up with people who had left in past years, and to meet current co-workers. The buffet was amazing, full of delicious, colourful, bite sized nibbles and our glasses were never empty. Beer, wine, cocktails. Great music provided by up and coming local band. A good laugh with good friends. It's been a while since I have seen you so happy and so relaxed, handsome as ever in a crisp shirt and dark suit. Your eyes were filled with admiration and your compliments kept flowing all night, from comments on my dress to my new haircut. When the party finished at 2am, though I had drunk too much as well, being the most sober of the two of us, you left me in charge of finding a taxi and getting us home.

In the cab you kept touching my legs and shoulders, full of affection and loving. My wonderful husband, usually so official and tense, let his guard down tonight and showed me his other, fun loving and relaxed side. One I remember from years ago, when we first met.

"Yes...mmmm," you say, moving closer, crawling slowly in my direction across the floor, need so clear in your eyes, your hand grabbing my ankle and pulling me towards yourself. You lean against me, strong body against mine, half pinning me to the floor and greedily finding my lips. A drunken, hurried, harsh kiss. Your teeth crush my lip and your tongue forces it's way in, whilst an impatient hand lifts the skirt of my dress up and starts roughly petting my outer thigh, wandering higher and higher, above the black stocking top until it is rubbing against the hem of my panties. Your beer-tasting tongue finds mine, teasing and inviting to play.

I pull away slightly, reluctant, suddenly aware of the open door, and murmur in your mouth. "Shut the door, numpty!"

You kiss me again and push the door shut with your foot. It shuts with loud bang, at the same time your hand lifts the hem of my panties, continuing the journey, and glides towards my crotch, pushing my lips to the sides and rubbing roughly my damp clit through the fabric. Your other hand pulling the front of my dress down, exposing my breasts with your lips nibbling my jaw line.

"You naughty boy," I tease, slightly breathless and dizzy, my hand on the front of your trousers, rubbing the bulge of your semi-erect cock.

"Yes... I am very naughty. I've been thinking about it all night, your tits spilling out of this tiny top all evening, just asking for it, so slutty, seeing your legs peeking from under that short skirt and the hem of your hold ups, and your neck, so fucking bite-able. Mmmmm.....I kept thinking...wow!" you say between the kisses, lips on mine, breaking the kiss to speak, breath smelling lightly bitter, lively tongue penetrating. Your fingers finding wet opening of my pussy, fingertips plunging in and out, still teasing me through the panties.

"Oi, oi, Mister! What are you up to!" I giggle. "My, my! Is this rape?" I joke.

"Mmm no, no....oh....you know what?" You say, your eyes slightly bloodshot and half open, dreamy, as you pinch and tease my nipple.

"No? What is it?"

"Mmmmm.....no.....I wouldn't hurt you...Oh God woman," you moan, as you bury your face between my breasts, at the same time pulling my panties aside and plunging your fingers inside me, up to your knuckles, rough, deep. I gasp in pleasure and surprise.

"But..," you continue only to stop again to pull the fingers out, bring them to your nose, inhale deeply and start to lick them clean. "I wouldn't mind you raping me at all," you say, between the licks, your eyes set on mine.

I giggle in reply, blaming your confession on too much of alcohol and a quirky sense of humour.

"No, baby, seriously," you muzzle my neck and bite the delicate skin. "I mean it. You forcing me to deep-throat your strap-on. Maybe that petite, huge boobed friend of yours, what's her name? Kay, yes?" you ask and I am only able to nod in reply, speechless, more and more surprised with your openness and fantasies.

"Mmmm... maybe with her ramming my ass and fucking me as well." You keep fantasising, as you pull my panties down.

I see you are turned on, almost in a trance, alcohol and fantasies taking your arousal onto a different level, your rock hard cock twitching under the trouser fabric.

One hand finding my wet pussy, the other unzipping your suit trousers, pulling your hard dick out.

In the dim corridor light I see drops of pre cum glistening on the tip, your right hand teasing yourself and the left rubbing my clit. Your lips on the lobe of my ear, tongue flickering, tracing the outline of my ear, hot breath contrasting with the cool corridor air making me shiver, goosebumps on my skin.

"Oh... baby! Mmm," you keep moaning.

I try hard to collect my thoughts, waves of pleasure rolling through my body and the alcohol in my bloodstream messing with my mind. Are you serious? Why would you want someone to rape you? Any why is the thought of taking my husband against his will arousing to me? My best friend, why is my hubby fantasising about my best friend? Why... .On and on, thousands of thoughts, shock, excitement, delight from you sharing your deepest desires with me... And your fingers kneading my swollen clit, your hot mouth on my skin. "How, baby, how do you want it?" I hear myself asking.

"Oh, Kat. Rough. Sudden. Hard. In my ass, cock bitten and face spat on," you answer, biting my collarbone and nestling your crotch between my thighs. Your hard cock rubbing against the mould of my cunt as you latch onto my hard nipple. I lift my hips, meeting your cock half way and you thrust deep inside me.

Instantly I feel full. So good. So right.

You start fucking me, hurriedly and hard, on the corridor floor, in the darkness. Our moans and cries echoing in the empty house. Sporadically you add more details to your fantasies, but quickly run out of breath and soon the only sounds are our bodies hitting against each other and the wet, sloppy noise of cock pounding my cunt hard, mixed with quickened breathing. Your cock gliding through my cunt, balls slapping against my ass, lips on my neck, one of my legs wrapped around your hip and the other foot flat on the floor. Soon I feel your cock thickening and within seconds you cum deep inside me, the feeling of warmth and a few last thrusts topping me over and I cum around your twitching cock.

We lay, arms and legs entwined for a few minutes, or maybe longer, soaking up in the orgasm's after glow, the air thick with sex. Blood is rushing through my veins almost as fast as my thoughts. Confusion and surprise, arousal and curiosity spinning in my head. I smooth your back and exposed waist with my hand. Your body seems to be getting heavier, breathing slowing down, your face buried in the crook of my neck and sticky cum tickling out of my cunt.

"Hey, tiger, you are not falling asleep on me!" I say, pinching your butt.

"Mmmm?" you groan.

"Oh no you don't" I laugh, pushing you off me. "You are not using me as a mattress!"

"Baby, you are sooo soft..." you say, stroking my naked thigh.

"Come on, Brad. Bed time," I order. "Let me help you up" I help you get up and we climb the stairs, undress and get into bed. You fall asleep within minutes of your head touching the pillow. I doze off, with your strong arms around me, your quiet drunk snoring for my lullaby, still thinking about your confession.

Days pass by and the subject never comes up again. I'm starting to think this all was just the alcohol and horniness talking. Till the first Friday of the month comes up and you go out, over to Tom's, your best friend, to play poker. Left alone, I relax, reading a book and sipping cold Jacques. Around 11pm I have a bath and decide to have an early night. A few hours later I'm awaken by loud noises coming from the kitchen. The alarm clock tells me it's just after 2 am. I climb out of the warm bed, put on the bathrobe and turn on the lights as I walk down the stairs. You're sat in the kitchen, a glass of milk and the open cookie jar in front of you.

"Hey, baby," you say, getting up, looking very guilty and flushed. "Sorry to wake you up, the cupboard attacked me."

I walk closer and see a huge pink lump on your forehead. "Oh honey, what did you do?!" I ask, immediately moving to the freezer and pulling the ice pack out.

"I opened the cupboard to get the glass, then the one at the bottom to find more cookies, and totally forgot the top one was open," you explain. I wrap the ice pack in a clean tea towel.

"How silly! Come. Sit down and let me have look!" I instruct you.

You do as you're told and after one closer look I know it must hurt really bad.

"Awww, my poor big man," I say quietly, standing between your knees and placing a gentle kiss on the plum sized bruise. "Ready?" I look into your eyes, make sure you are forewarned and then carefully place the ice compress on the lump, whilst bringing your head to myself, your face instantly hiding in the opening of my robe.

You wrap your arms around my waist and for a while we just stay like that; you sat on the chair, arms tight around me, comforting, cold pack on your forehead, my lips pressed against the top of your head. Minutes pass by and finally you pull away. I scan your face. "OK? Not feeling sick or dizzy?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Thank you, darling," you assure me. "Wow. My own nurse!" you add, smiling.

"Good," I say and gently place a kiss on your forehead, making sure not to hurt you.

You pull me closer and place your face between my breasts, inhaling deeply. "Mmm. I love you," I hear your words and my heart skips a beat.

"Love you too, baby!"

"You know, the other night," you say and I instantly know which night you mean. Surprised I look down at you, but your face is buried between my breasts.

"Yes..." I simply answer.

"You think I'm a freak?" You ask in a weak voice and my heart stops for a moment.

"No! Baby, no!" I rush to say, gently moving your head, so I can see your handsome face. "No, Brad, I'd never think that of you!"

"You don't think it's sick to want.....something like that happen?" Your eyes deep in mine.

"Well, maybe I was shocked a little bit, yes. But, Brad, more than shocked, I felt honoured, privileged and pleased that you chose to share with me, baby! It means the world to me, you should know that!" I reassure you. "I want to share everything with you, baby, everything and would love for you to share everything with me."

You sit still, looking at me, your face blank. A few torturous seconds pass by and you finally exhale loudly, making me realise you held your breath for whole time, waiting for my reaction. Your face mellows and eyes light up.

And I knew I had to make it happen for you.

It took a few weeks, it took a lot of work and a lot of preparation. A lot of doubt and fear. But here I am. Watching you this evening, from the other end of the pub, hidden in the corner, keeping out of your sight. I watch you drink beer, eat crisps and joke with your mates, play a few rounds of pool and waste a handful of coins in the jukebox. Finally, after 10pm you settle to drink and talk, beer flowing quickly, everyone buying rounds eagerly. An ordinary Friday night, a few thirty-something year old blokes enjoying a not so quiet drink in their favourite local, letting their ladies have a little time for themselves, enjoying their freedom.

Finally, half an hour or so after last call, I see you lift your glass for the last time to your mouth, drinking the few last drops of golden beer and setting it back on the table with a loud bang. Your mates find it hilarious and soon everybody is laughing. Clearly all of you had much too much to drink. I smile to myself, thinking this will make my task easier. A few moments later I notice you getting up, your movement uncoordinated, speech slurry, saying good byes to friends and heading towards the pub's exit. I see you through the window walking past the entrance gate. A quick phone call and I sneak out of the pub, following you. You take a left turn, as I had hoped, into the dark, badly lit alley. A few hundred yards further you decide to take a short cut through the park.

"Yes! Bingo," I think and hurriedly send a text message to the girls waiting in the park. Everything is happening according to the plan. You are drunk, tripping over your own feet, mumbling something under your breath, keys jingling in your hand. "One more turn, one more turn," I whisper to myself, heart pumping, sneaking quietly a few yards behind you, my pumps quiet on the tarmac path.

Suddenly from behind a large clump of evergreen bushes a woman appears and, to your confusion, starts walking towards you. Dressed in over the knee high-heeled boots and shorts, her leather jacket undone, showing off her skimpy white lace top, barely covering her breasts. Her face is hidden under big sunglasses, even though it is the middle of the night and the park is very poorly lit. The blonde hair surrounding her head is a wild cloud of tangled up locks.

"Hey, stranger," the blonde speaks, approaching you.

Confused at this very unusual behaviour, (after all, women tend to avoid any contact with strange men in secluded places) you open your mouth to reply when, to your surprise, another, similar dressed woman appears on your left. Her face is similarly hidden, under the shade from the baseball cap she is wearing, dark hair spilling over her shoulders. Her legs, long and slim, are covered in spider web like fishnets, leather mini skirt not longer than a belt and her large breasts spilling out of a corset.

"Hey there," second woman says, step by step closer to you.

Astonished and still drunk, you stop. Two very sexy women. Dark night. Empty park. "Erm? Hello, ladies. You lost or something?" you ask, your voice slightly shaky from the sudden excitement, and I'm sure the cock in your trousers is throbbing from the visual stimulation, when a small hand materialises itself from nowhere on your right shoulder. One look at the long, ruby red nails and your body stiffened. I can bet the same thing happens to your cock.

Lips pressed to your ear whisper, "Shut the fuck up, bitch!"

I hear you gasp. "What's going on?" you say, and the woman's hand pinches your arm tightly, strong enough to make you ache, even through the coat.

"I said shut up!" the newcomer throws in. Her chin-length black hair is almost as dark as the November night sky, eves hidden under sunglasses. Short and skinny, she doesn't seem to be any danger at first sight, but there is a cat like quality to her movement, her body toned and powerful.

I keep a few steps behind you, and slip the long coat off my shoulders, slightly shivering from the cold, keeping silent, breathing quietly. My hands are closed in tight fists, nails digging into the palms of my hands, bracing myself for what was about to happen.

"But?" I hear you say and I know it is enough for the tiny brunette to snap. She swiftly wraps her free arm around your neck, pulling you back while her leg kicks you in the knee. It makes you loose your balance and soon she is holding you in a tight grip, starving you of air, your feet kicking and trying to catch a grip on the wet and slippery grass.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up!" she slowly says. "And stop fighting, you stupid whore!"

Finally the penny drops and you understand: she is not kidding. The two other women come over, each of them gets hold of your feet and you are carried to a nearby picnic table.

I follow, silently.

They throw you over the table, rough and hurried, your back to the flat surface. Cuffs are placed on your wrists and cuffed to the table's legs, the same thing happening to your feet. Immobilised, breathing heavy, shaking from shock and confusion, you begin to mumble something. The girls look angry and excited. Before anyone else had a chance to do anything, I decide this is where I step in. A few quick steps and I slap you sharply on the cheek. My hand is tingling from the force and your head abruptly turns in my direction.

"Oh fuck..." you whisper, seeing me, your eyes growing wide.

Dressed in a red and black satin corset, suspender belt and black silk stockings, shiny black 8 inch strap on proudly bouncing with my every movement, face hidden under the mask, making me unrecognisable.

"Oh fuck!" I hear you repeat and I nod in the direction of my partners in crime.

As in by magic the girls start to tear off your clothing, cutting your t shirt and ripping the denim of your trousers, exposing your hard, twitching cock.

"Hahaha!" the blond woman laughs out-loud. "Just look at him, how sad he is," she adds, pointing to your torn, pre-cum stained boxers. "You think this is some kind of game? You stupid, pathetic wanker!" she screams in your face, her long nails scratching your chest raw and pinching your nipple strong enough for you to cry out in pain.

My stomach churns with every obscenity thrown at you, with ever hurt given to your body. I bite my lip and try hard to remain calm. In the mean time the short brunette lifts her skirt and climbs on the table. She squats above your open mouth and with one swift movement sits on your face. I hear muffled words of protest when she stars to grind her crotch against your lips and nose. She makes sure to hold your ears tight and warned you quietly:

"You bite me, you son of a bitch, and you'll loose your fucking ears, slut! Understood?!" she screams and I see your head nodding. The girl looks at me and smiles. I nod in permission, my heart beating fast, head spinning. "Good slut," she says to you, her hips moving back and forth, her cunt rubbing against your lips and nose. The blonde woman starts to place clothes pegs on your exposed skin, in a tidy row along your stomach, a few around and on each nipple, a few under your arms, attaching them to your hairy armpits and puling them off, ripping the hair off. She is pinching your soft skin and pulling them off, only to reapply them again, in the same place and pull them off again. On and off, torturing your skin. Pinching and pulling. Scratching and raking your skin with her claw like nails. Your cries soften, body shaking and jumping in pain, arms and legs straining in your ties.