May I Buy That For You?

She met him while window-shopping at a mall in front of a lingerie store on a mid-Friday afternoon. She should have been at work, but had taken a late lunch, which, somehow had continued on in that lazy fashion of all guilty pleasures. Her boss would certainly be wondering where she was right now. She should be concerned. She did need the employment. But, eyeing a lace black thong through the window hung about the hips of a revealing mannequin left a longing within her.

Why wasn't that on her hips? And when was the last time she had felt her man's breath pulse through something so light and beautiful and sexy before he slowly pulled it down her legs, swept it by her knees, brushed past her ankles, and removed it over a pair of black high heeled stilettos? Why hadn't her man, her husband, found and bought this delicate thing, and, in the privacy of an intimate setting, had her wear it so he could then greedily tear it off at just the right moment? How long had it been since she had felt his touch in that way? Too long.

It was enough to make a horny girl cry.

She saw a flash of movement reflected in the window. A man lightly brushed past her and bumped an elbow, which yanked her thoughts back to reality. She turned and gave the man a deadly gaze. Most men would have shrunk from such eyes. But not him. He was steady and calm as he offered a confident 'excuse me' in reply to nothing but her piercing look.

Her jaw clenched. Out of frustration, an annoyance at something unknown built within her. She continued staring into his eyes as if by doing so he might wilt away like an unwatered daisy. Instead, he returned the gaze and smiled wryly back, cocking his head to the side with measured curiosity.

The staring contest persisted. Who the fuck was this man to invade her privacy as she lingered in front of a lingerie shop? Why did he not simply leave after she had commanded him to do just that with her deadly gaze?

"You have beautiful eyes."

She felt something melt deep within her and noticed her respectable black mid-heeled pumps come into view.

"Thank you." She whispered.

"You seem to like that in the window." His eyes glanced at the lace undergarment. "May I buy that for you?"

"I can buy it for myself!" She protested, as their eyes met again.

He looked over her smart business attire from top to bottom, eyes lingering where they should not. She wore a cashmere-wool business jacket, white button down blouse, and black skirt down to her knees. Proper attire for the department she managed at a nearby insurance company.

"Of course you can." He replied. "The question is, may I?"

He leaned forward and his nostrils flared as a deep breath was sucked in. Her gaze returned downward and she felt a strange electricity develop between them. It was as if the entire mall had emptied and no one but the two remained. Her breath quickened and she felt her palms grow damp. She knew what she should say. Appreciated how her husband might react had he known how she felt right now. But when was the last time had such a stirring moved within her due to a man's presence? This realization gnawed at her.

She felt a hand brush a strand of hair aside and gasped. What had he done? Who was this stranger to invade her space and touch her in that way? A finger trailed down her jaw line to the tip of her chin, and with his knuckle he lifted her head until they were once again eye to eye. Her stomach clenched in that way that makes a woman sigh and her thighs fidgeted back and forth.

"Yes." She whispered.

They went in together. He wore a smart but casual tan business suit and good handmade shoes. They click-clacked confidently against the marble floor as he walked up to a sales person. She followed behind. He pointed to the lace underwear and a female sales clerk sized her by eye, then walked away to find the merchandise. He paid at a register as she stared at the floor ashamed and excited.

"Would you like a bag, sir?"

"She'll wear it out." He replied.

'What?' She thought. 'I'll wear it out!?!? How presumptuous!' She was taken aback. And her face revealed the anger of that inner voice. But he once again gazed into her eyes and in short order destroyed that composure indignation had engendered. He held the panties out to her. She took a deep breath and nodded, then went to the changing room.

Behind those closed doors there was a moment of sanity. She resolved to somehow sneak past this man and run back to work, where she should have been anyway. But that lace thong thrilled her. She slipped off an old pair of sensible underwear perfect for a boring day at the office and found it damp from her anticipation. It startled her just how powerfully she had been affected by this illicit exchange.

Committed to the act, she spread out the lace thong and stepped into each hole one by one, then pulled it up underneath her skirt until it fit snuggly. She found the lace unbearably sexy against her skin. Her fingers roamed across its bumpy surface and she felt the tuft of fur pressed underneath. That finger went where it shouldn't and her knees immediately buckled. Her heart skipped a beat, then pounded in her chest, and she knew she would walk out to meet that man.

He stood by the sales desk confidently waiting, hands in pockets, thumbs looped around his belt. She saw past that open dress jacket he wore to a trim shape that was hidden under a white button-down dress shirt. She sucked in air through her teeth at the sight and strolled up to him. He took her elbow. They walked out of the store, down the main hall, and through the exit into an outdoor parking lot.

"Where are you taking me?"

"To my apartment."

She gasped. This stranger she had just met intended to take her to his apartment and she was following his lead? What the fuck is she thinking? What if he's dangerous? A serial killer? A woman beater? A scoundrel? 'Well, by definition he's definitely a scoundrel' she wryly noted to herself. Then came the most frightening thought of all. What if I fall for him?

They weaved through cars until reaching a compact Mercedes something or other. She didn't know much about cars. They got in and he drove out into the street. He grasped her hand and their fingers intertwined. She looked out onto the street avoiding his eyes as he drove. Then he pulled her hand to the inseam of his pants and up the thigh until she felt a bulge nearly bursting through its cloth. Her lips parted to release a slight whimper.

After a few miles they were downtown. He drove up to a large apartment building and down into the depths of the parking lot, where the car found its place and they stopped. He reached out to stroke her cheek. Their eyes met once again.

"Take me there." She panted.

He got out of the car in a smooth and gallant movement and opened her door, helping her out by the hand like a gentleman. They walked to the elevator quietly. There was a bell and its doors opened. They stepped inside and he pressed a button, then the doors shut.

With ferocity he pushed her against the wall. Pinning her hands up above her head and her legs with his, he came in closely and kissed. The violence of his movement shook her but his lips were gentle and her's parted for his tongue. He probed inward and caressed her tongue, their lips locked in a rhythmic embrace. The bell rang again.

Reality left her. It was as if she were watching a movie about a woman who had met and followed a stranger to his apartment for carnal purpose. The kind that always ends in disaster. He and that woman reached a door and they entered the apartment. It was a large two-floor loft with flowing windows overlooking a beautiful city skyscape. The man in this movie had means. But then, the production values of film demands that - leading men always do.

She snapped back into her head once he closed the door. It was she, not some actress, who had stepped through that door, and it was she who was inside this place. He pinned her against the door and they were kissing once again. A hand reached down to the small of her back and stroked her spine gently. The other hand found its way up to her cheek, down along her neck, and over her blouse to that line of cleavage underneath, bumping buttons as he went.

A winding up of tension began within her. It's pressure slowly became overwhelming. Her thighs rubbed together and she moaned as his tongue probed ever further against hers. She closed her eyes just as she felt the first button of her blouse pop and she thought she might explode right then, before he had even entered her.

He pulled away as her blouse was finally undone. He tugged it free from its tucking under her skirt and slid it off her. She was panting as he reached around and unclasped the hooks of her brassiere. It flowed down her arms and fell to the floor as his fingers probed for the skirt's zipper. Then she had nothing on but that lace underwear.

Her eyes opened and she saw him tug his tie out of its knot from the collar. He quickly turned her toward the door, her hands against it, elbows splayed outward, and she felt her breasts press against its cold surface. The soft sound of that necktie moving across fabric was heard.

He grabbed her hands and pulled them back. The necktie was wrapped around her wrists and tied tight to bind her. 'Oh my God!' She thought. 'What have I gotten myself into?!?!' Then he forcefully led her by those bound wrists to an elegant white fabric couch and threw her over its armrest. After she had plopped down, the cushion pressed against her cheek leaving the sense of an imprint in her skin.

Her nose flared back and forth as the combined force of fear and amorous excitement pounded through her belly. His hands slowly caressed the curve of her back, down across the lace of those panties and further down to the back of her thighs. He felt up and lightly touched that line of her sex in between and she moaned uncontrollably.

He tugged at the elastic strap of those panties and slowly pulled them down her legs until the cloth reached her ankles. Then he turned and twisted them into a knot so that her feet were bound as well. 'Is this rape?' she wondered as an unzipping was heard behind her. Then she felt it. That thing of his. Probing against her like a snake writhing toward a hole it knew as home.

Though her ankles were tightly bound she tried to lift her knees so that she might spread herself for him. But he grasped her thighs and pushed them back together. Then he probed and probed against her, worming her open excruciating bit by excruciating bit.

She could feel her excitement leak between her thighs in little drops that wandered downward, yet still it was tight as he pushed. Finally, he passed that point where resistance ends and he was in and through as if a membrane had torn within her. My God it was glorious! He leaned over and pushed fully in until she could feel his pelvis against her. It was big and long and went further than she had ever felt. There was that tickling sensation deep inside that she knew was her cervix. Then he pulled ever so slowly until he plopped out of her.

"Noooo..." She whined.

He began again, pushing against her at just the right spot until she spread open and that resistance inside collapsed. It was easier this time. He pushed all the way in and pulled until he was out, repeating this delicious torture again and again. 'Please make me come!' she thought, begging him with that voice he could not hear yet still seemed to understood.

Inside again, he began a gradual rhythm that wound her up like a rubber band. Yet still she did not come. With careful and controlled movement, the insistence of her inner carnal demand just became stronger and stronger, building that pressure within her to a dangerous bursting.

Trembling transformed into shaking, then shaking into tremors, as a guttural cry emerged that she could not prevent. Her insides grabbed him within her, held him, surrounded him as convulsions blinded her into an oblivion. When she woke from this dreamlike state she heard and felt her heart pounding in her chest. Her armpits were damp. There were beads of sweat all over, and even a small pool drying in the arch of her back. A soft moan escaped her as that just fucked comfort enveloped her senses.

Then he was out again and she whined as if tears might flow out of her eyes.

She felt it against her sex as he rubbed up and down along her entrance and she hoped for more. When it bumped against that special spot of hers, even after climax, her trembling was interrupted by a muscular jump as an electric jolt ripped through her body.

She first noticed something strange when he rubbed his tip up a bit further past her normal opening and slid it partly along that crease that ran up to her back. It had seemed as though he might just be playing with sensuous intent when he rubbed back down and struck her clitoris for a second time. But then, once again, he rubbed back up along that unnatural path.

He continued like this, widening the arc of his probe from that point down below, where a woman expects a man to go, to further and further up toward her back past that spot dirty men with their ugly desires always wanted to take. And then back down again, teasing her with his sick desire. Just like with her sad excuse for a husband, it disgusted her. Up and down he went. Slowly. Confidently. Arrogantly.

Then, as she considered that thing she had prevented time and again, her uncouth husband with that perverse craving, a deep concern built to outright fear. Was this man really angling to take that liberty where she had let no one else go? She tensed all over as she conceived his intent. A panic built within her and she began tugging at the necktie which bound her wrists, pulling at the lace panties which bound her feet, writhing all over that armrest as she felt the couch's padding rub and burn against her face.

That sliding across her crack continued. It probed ever deeper. Because of the way her legs were bound it was an even more difficult path to this second place he now seemingly sought. But eventually she felt the tip touch her there and she squirmed violently. In response he quickly pulled away. There was a loud slap, an uncontrolled deep breath was sucked in as her eyes bulged, and she felt a harsh sting on her backside. There was another. And then yet another. And in a quick succession even several more. Her resistance to his obscene demand began to fold.

She wanted to say no, but the thought entered her that he might hurt her. 'What if this is rape?' She thought, in that state of panic. She had certainly put herself in a fucked up situation! And now she must pay the price. She wanted to say 'no'. She opened her mouth to say 'no'. She expelled breath trying to say 'no'. But barely a squeak came out from her lips.

Still, it seemed he had heard. In response, he reached down to her ankles. There was a tugging and a pulling as the lace fabric stretched until it could take the strain no longer. A sound of ripping was heard and her feet were free. He pulled the delicate doily-like cloth through her legs, still knotted, and reached over. Grabbing long strands of dirty blond hair, her head was jerked back and she saw the wall. A painful tugging against her scalp took the breath from her. He then stuffed the panties into her mouth. They were still moist and salty from when she had just worn them. He let go of her hair. Face back down in the fabric of the couch, her resolve was completely broken.

He pulled apart her legs and she felt those other cheeks down below spread between his thumb and forefinger. Stepping closer, his tip probed inward again, past that splayed flesh, toward a now easier to reach target. A deep fear burst through her as she realized that this thing was about to happen. Something she had promised would never occur. A virginity she had claimed as her own for a lifetime, soon to be stolen. But the fear did not engender further resistance. It was a passive fear. She had accepted this would have to be the result. She had submitted. She closed her eyes tightly shut and waited for the inevitable.

He was against that pucker shaped place, touching it gently. At first, he didn't press forward. Through the panties she exhaled in relief at this brief respite and a dank pungent odor wafted to her senses that she knew was her own. Then, there was pressure. A deep breath was sucked in as she felt that other place start to open. A pinching that came apart instead of being pressed together was upon her, and a cry of pain escaped past those panties.

His tip's ridge pushed in, opening her as wide as it could, and, as it went through that forced upon opening, her ring closed around his shaft and it seemed to plop into place with a final stab of pain. It was so... big! She had just felt that cock fill her where a man is meant to go and it had been a perfect fit. But this felt huge in comparison. Much too much so. Her panting and whimpers begged for this to end, but the pain slowly subsided.

There was a gradual movement as he inched forward. That muscular ring which wrapped around him burned slightly like knees rubbing against a rug. She felt him in a strange place as he stopped the penetration, still standing some distance apart from her.

"Squeeze me out." He ordered.

She was confused. What did this brute want of her? He seemed to understand her dilemma.

"Squeeze like you're taking a shit."

Disgust flashed across her face, but she followed his command. She puckered herself and as hard as she could she pushed. He gradually began to slide out of her like a tough stool hardened by constipation until the ridge of his cap struck the inside of her anus. An uncontrollable deep breath came to her as he pushed back inside and she felt the burn return.

"Again."

With the next squeeze it slid out a little easier. When he pushed back in again the burn diminished. He bent over, and his starched shirt flowed against her tied hands. She felt a button grace a finger. He reached around to her mouth and yanked out those panties as a gasp erupted from her.

"Say, 'Fuck me!'" He ordered.

'Oh my God,' she thought. He wanted her to beg him! She would certainly refuse the man this disturbing pleasure. She, begging him aloud, at his request, for that thing she had long vowed never to give a man willingly. Yet the power to deny his command had vanished. Feeling that thing crammed within her she steeled herself with a breath through her teeth. And, as she tried to resist, she said it without thought, unable to control herself.

"Fuck me. Oh God, please fuck me." She whispered, then squeezed.

He came back up and let it slide out under her command. He grabbed her hips and pushed in and when she squeezed he took her lead, allowing her to control his depth within her. A strange and dirty pleasure began to warm her belly. This perverse thing he was doing was no longer painful and had started a different kind of winding within her. She shook her head against the cushion as if to say 'no, this can't be happening' as his movements felt better and better.

At her wrists she felt her bindings move. He pulled the neck tie through its knot and the rubbing sound of silk against silk continued until her hands came free. With that freedom she did not attempt escape. Instead, she reached out over her head and grasped a pillow at the other end of the couch. Her fingers clawed that softness as his hardness went in even deeper. And then she squeezed.

Christ: It. Felt. Good!

This demeaning realization sent waves of shame through her. This dirty thing he was doing had started a new burning warmth between her legs down in that place a woman expects to surrender. How could a thing like this make that place there become so hot? Yet it did.