Blondie Thought They Were Rapists

Blondie: She Thought They Were Rapists

By Photodude2020

This is fiction, it did NOT happen. Fantasy is legal.

Codes: MMF, Voy, Exh, Oral, Anal, Reluc, Cons, Inter

Blondie Bumstead stretched her lithe body out on the bed. She was feeling nice and relaxed after her warm and luxurious bubble bath. The brandy she was drinking helped the mood as well. It was after ten o'clock in the evening, the kids were both sound asleep in their beds and her husband Dagwood was away on a business trip. She wanted sex badly and she hadn't had it for weeks because of her husband's disinterest and travel schedule.

Things hadn't been going too well in the bed department for Blondie. Her husband was a decent enough husband, but he didn't seem to want to do it more than once a week ... if she was lucky. Even then she rarely reached orgasm as he was of the slam, bam, thank you mam type of lover would quickly follow a few minutes of pumping with a hair trigger release. Then he'd roll over and be snoring away as she fingered herself for satisfaction.

In the early days of their marriage his lack of interest hadn't really bothered her, but gradually ever since she turned thirty, she began wanting it more and more. Now she was at her sexual peak, and she just felt so damn horny all the time. She couldn't help herself.

Recently she had been trying different ways to increase her husband's sex drive. She bought herself sexy lingerie, began wearing skintight jeans and low-cut tops to emphasize her deep cleavage. She even bought a sex manual from a dirty bookstore while out on a trip to the city. She hadn't dared show it to Dagwood, but she did try to get new ideas and learn different techniques from the book.

At first things had gone pretty well, particularly the night she had sucked Dagwood's cock while kneeling on the floor in front of him, wearing nothing but a pair of stockings and high heels. She knew that he had loved it and it encouraged her to get more daring. She became much more vocal in bed when they made love, talking dirty all the time. She found that it turned her on a great deal using words like fuck, pussy, and cock while they made love.

She even offered to let Dagwood fuck her up the ass, but he wouldn't do it. In fact, recently he seemed to be a bit wary of her sexy behavior. He didn't come out and say anything, but she noticed that the wilder she got, the more he looked away from her. Instead of going with the flow and enjoying himself he seemed to keep wondering what had gotten into her. In the last month or so he had even been avoiding sex with her altogether, complaining that he was too tired.

Blondie brushed her hand softly along the inside of her thighs. She really wanted it tonight, right now if fact. If only she could be sure that Dagwood would be in the mood when he got home, then she wouldn't have minded waiting. She climbed up off the bed and walked over to the full-length mirror hanging near her closet.

She looked at herself in the short, sexy nightgown she wore. Its soft sheer material was practically see-and she had nothing but a thong underneath. The outline of her full, firm breasts was plainly visible, and she reached a hand inside her gown to gently caress them.

She had recently taken to trimming her bush and she lifted up her gown to view the thin triangular patch of pubic hair. Suddenly she pulled her robe up over her neck and threw it over a chair. She turned back to the mirror and leisurely studied her naked body from top to toe. She was 5'4" tall, a 38D-24-36 figure, with long, slender legs. Her curly blonde hair reached down to her shoulders. Her complexion was good, her skin as soft and smooth as when she was ten years younger.

She twisted her body to look at her ass in the mirror. She knew that looked good. All her boyfriends from before her marriage used to comment on how cute and sexy it was, and it had stayed in shape since then. All in all, she knew that she had one hell of a fine body, so God knows why her husband was such hard work to arouse.

"I bet I wouldn't have to try so hard to get most other men to fuck me," she spoke to her reflection. "I bet they'd love a piece of this ass." Blondie giggled, feeling slightly foolish for talking to herself that way. She had never once been unfaithful in all the years of her marriage, and she wasn't planning to start now. She looked at her reflection one last time and then shrugged and headed over to the chair to pick up her nightgown.

Suddenly she saw a face at the window in front of her, staring directly at her nude body. She screamed, covering her bare boobs in her hands, trying to conceal them from the man's eyes. Suddenly his face was gone, and she rushed to the window, where she could just make out a figure running away in the darkness.

The last few nights she had had a strange feeling that somebody was watching her from outside. She had figured it was just her mind playing tricks on her but now she knew she had been right. She quickly pulled the robe over her body and picked up the telephone to call her husband at his hotel. He told her to call the police.

Blondie dialed 911. "Hello," she said frantically when a voice answered. "This is Mrs. Dagwood Bumstead. There's a prowler at my window. Or there was. I think he's gone now. Can you ... can somebody get over here? I'm worried in case he's still out there."

"Are all your doors and windows locked, ma'am?" the voice inquired.

"Yes. Always. But I still..."

"What's your address," the voice asked. After giving her address the voice said, "We have a unit near your neighborhood. I'll call and tell him to check your place out."

Blondie hung up the phone then got herself a tall glass of brandy. She soon finished it off and then poured herself another one. After a few minutes she felt relaxed again. In fact, she wondered what she'd made such a fuss about. It might have been one of the neighbors out walking his dog or something like that. Still, he had been looking in at her, gazing at her naked body. Suddenly she wondered what he must have thought she was doing, parading around like that in her living room. Had he seen her touching herself? What would he think of her? Did he find her attractive? She knew her thoughts were inappropriate, given the circumstances, but she couldn't help it. She felt aroused all over again, thinking about what might have happened. What if he had broken into the house and forced himself upon her?

Before she could continue her train of thought she heard the doorbell ring and she jumped up quickly from the bed. She walked to the front door and opened it to see a Police Officer standing there.

"Mrs. Bumstead?" he asked.

"Yes ... thank you for coming ... I was so worried!" She tried to concentrate on the matter at hand. She told the policeman what she had seen, explaining that the prowler had run off when she screamed.

"I checked around the house and everything seems fine. Did you get a good look at him?" he asked.

"Not really. He was tall, though. About your height, I think."

"Did you see his face?"

"No. Not really. Only his eyes."

"Hair color?"

"Black, I think. His whole face seemed ... black," she faltered. "I, uhm, it was dark outside. I could only see his eyes."

"So he was about my height, and you think he might be a black man? Anything else?"

She looked at him for a moment then down at her feet, as if in concentration. It wasn't until that moment that she remembered that she was still wearing the see-through robe. She quickly folded her arms over her chest and looked up, in time to see him raise his eyes. He had been looking at her tits, getting himself.

A good eyeful of them.

"OK then," he said. "I'll check the area again and file a report. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about. We'll have a unit cruise the area every few hours."

After she closed the door, she leaned back against it thinking about the incident. Yes, it was a black man. It had to have been. They all had a thing for white women, especially blondes, and especially married ones so they could ruin them. She felt her nipples pressed against her arms and knew they were erect. Her heart was beating at a mile a minute and she felt her pussy moisten up as a deeply repressed fantasy of being forced to satisfy a big strong black man's horny urges rose up in her conscious mind.

Yes ... the black man knew that her husband was away and was waiting for her kids to fall asleep so he could break in and take her. He would do it to her, take her in his powerful arms and force her to her bed, pull out his huge, black cock and shove it in her sopping wet cunt. She'd have to submit to him, or he might hurt her and her children, she thought. What choice would she have? She'd have to protect her babies.

Oh God, what would the kids say if her struggling and screaming woke them up and they rushed to her room to find her with a black stranger on her bed? And what would the black man do to them? No ... she couldn't take the chance; she'd have to submit, and she couldn't report it either. Imagine what a scandal it would be if it got out that a black man had fucked her while her husband was away! The gossips would have a field day and her friends would most probably all shun her.

She felt her knees go weak as her mind absorbed the gravity of what she was thinking, and she reached out her hand to steady herself against the wall. She closed her eyes, and her legs gave way completely. She hadn't actually fainted, but she was immersed in the dream-like world of semi-consciousness where fantasies became vivid and seemed so real.

Her imagination ran wild, and she felt her body being lifted and carried to her bedroom where she was placed onto the bed. She waited there like a sacrificial lamp as she watched him take all his clothes off. His thick muscles rippled under his ebony skin and his cock stood out hard and thick. It was at least a foot long, thick as her wrist, covered with thick protruding veins and capped with a big black plum sized head ... more than twice the size of her husband's averaged sized white penis.

She could feel the weight of his body as he got on the bed ... his hands roamed over her body as he barred her in preparation to taking her on her marital bed. His strong black hand kneaded her big full white mounds and his lips captured hers as he drove his thick fingers into her sex. Then after he'd fingered her to orgasm, his muscular body pressed her down into the mattress as he got on top of her. He easily forced her legs apart and fit the wide head of his massive horsecock into her warm squishy slit.

The way she felt now she wanted that big, black dick of his inside her aching pussy. After a few moments she opened her eyes and saw that she was sitting on the floor and that she was all alone. Blondie thought, "I'm fine. It was just the brandy. I drank it too quickly. It must have gone straight to my head."

She looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost 11PM. God, she felt hornier than ever now. She couldn't believe how much she had wanted that black man to break into the house and fuck her, how disappointed she had been that he didn't take advantage of her when he found her alone and vulnerable. In her mind he was a strong and powerful man, and he could have forced her to do anything he wanted. Her throat, pussy and tight little asshole were his for the taking but he had run away instead.

She reached a hand down and placed it between her legs. She felt the heat rising there and she stroked gently, rubbing the wetness of her juices against her clitoris. She again pictured in her mind what might have happened. She had never had a black man before, but she just knew that he would have a huge cock, like in all the stories she'd heard about black men. She would watch it, moving in and out of her, its thick blackness a stark contrast against her pale white body. When she came it was the most powerful orgasm she could remember having in ages.

She lay down beneath the sheets, more contented than she had been for a long time. She felt a pang of guilt for her fantasizing about another man. She fell into a deep sleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. The next morning, she got the kids off to school and went to work at her catering shop. She kept about what had happened, not even telling her friend and next-door neighbor Tootsie Woodley as they worked side by side.

She'd felt remorse about her fantasies involving the prowler but as the day progressed the feelings of remorse lessened. Several times that day black men came into her shop, and she felt herself getting aroused as she looked at them, her eyes drawn to their bulges. Now she didn't feel repentant at all. In fact, she enjoyed it immensely as her rape fantasy continued to flood her mind with each black man that entered the shop.

That evening when Blondie returned home, she wondered whether the prowler would be back. She smiled at herself for having such naughty thoughts. She made a light pasta dinner, washing it down with a glass of wine, then got the kids off to bed. She decided to run herself a hot bath and carry on drinking more of the brandy that had helped loosen her fantasies the night before. It would also fortify her resolve to do what she had to do.

Blondie smiled in horny anticipation as she put on her sexiest lingerie. If she looked really good when he broke in, he'd be satisfied with her and leave the kids alone, she reasoned ... especially her daughter. The previous night he had shown up at the window between 10 and 11pm. She was ready and waiting

wearing stiletto heels, sheer stockings, a suspender belt, and a lace thong with matching half-cup bra. On top of her underwear, she wore nothing but a see-through teddy.

As she continued to drink, she was getting drunker and drunker and more and more turned on. Her pussy was filling up with her own juices and she couldn't wait for him to arrive and ravage her. She turned on some music and danced around the room in her lingerie. Every time she looked towards the window, she only glanced at it for a second. The longer she waited the more she wanted him to do more than watch her. She badly wanted to see his big black cock, to feel it inside her, to have him fucking her wildly, powerfully. She looked down at herself, the blackness of her lingerie a stark contrast to her pale white skin. The same sort of contrast as the prowler's muscular black body would make against hers.

It was around half past ten when she heard the doorbell ring. Could that be the prowler? Had he been watching? Was he going to speak to her at the door and then force his way in? She was drunk and so horny by now that she wanted him to ravage her so she could live out her fantasy.

She went to the front door and called, "Who is it?""Mrs. Bumstead," it was a deep voice. "Are you all, right? Please open the door."

In her inebriated, sexually charged condition she knew that he would break in if she didn't open the door. If he did that her children might be awakened and placed in harm's way. Her son would be seriously hurt, and her daughter would be taken as well. She was determined that it was up to her to satisfy him.

She opened the door and saw a big black man standing there in front of her. He wasn't alone. Another tall black man stood beside him. What she didn't know was they both worked at her husband's company, Dither's Construction and that Dagwood had called Darryl, one of the construction crew foremen, and asked if he and Derek would drive out and make sure his wife and kids were all right.

Derek was as tall as Darryl was, about 6'3", but he was much bigger. His shoulders were very broad, his chest hard and powerful. He looked up and down her curvaceous body, taking in the sight of Bumstead' s wife in her sexy lingerie. She felt like she recognized his eyes. 'Yes,' she thought. 'It was him. The prowler. Maybe they took it in turns. Maybe they both watched her.'

"Mrs. Bumstead," Darryl began. "My name is Darryl, and this is Derek. We know about the trouble you've been having. We're here for you." As his eyes dropped to her body he stopped talking.

"Uh-huh," she said, thinking, 'Yes, I know that here for me ... here to force me to fuck you both.' She was ready for it. Hell, she had gotten herself so horny that she wanted to take them both on together.

She waited for them to make their move, but they just stood there in the doorway in stunned silence as they stared at her standing before them in her sexy lingerie. "Look, guys. Let's cut the bullshit, okay?" she said, taking off her see through teddy and dropping it on the floor. "We all know why you're here so let's do it. My children are asleep, so if you don't wake them and promise not to hurt them ... I'm all yours!"

The two men looked blankly at each other, shocked at this unexpected development and then Blondie reached out both her hands and grabbed at the men's crotches, pulling them inside. "Now are you going to fuck me, or do you just want to watch me play with myself?"

She had never been this forward with a man before, let alone two at once, but she couldn't stop herself. Her pussy was aching to be fucked and she could not wait a minute longer. She dropped to the floor, kneeling at their feet. She unzipped them both simultaneously, pulling out two huge, black dicks.

They were both just the sort of size she had fantasized about and as she ran her hands up and down their thick shafts, they grew even bigger. She opened her mouth and took Darryl's ten-inch dick between her lips, licking around the head as she pumped Derek's twelve-inch cock in her fist. After a while she switched over, sucking hard on Derek's black marble shaft as she played with Darryl's in her hand.

Both men looked at each other in amazement as the beautiful blonde wife and mother sucked their cocks. They had come on a humanitarian mission to help a co-worker who was out of town and worried about his wife and children. Huge smiles broke out on their faces as the shock wore off and the realization of a rare opportunity to stick it to management ... or in this case a management wife dawned upon them. They nodded to each other in silent agreement to just go with it. Bumstead' s wife was a true MILF ... and her husband had asked them to take care of her hadn't he ... if she wanted it to be with their dicks, then so be it.

She made sure she didn't go too far and make them cum. She wanted to feel their huge cocks in her pussy, not take a facial from both of them. When they were both as long and hard as they could get, she stood up and slowly walked to her bedroom with an exaggerated wiggle of her sexy ass as she looked at them over her shoulder. "The bedrooms this way boys," she said seductively.

They followed, and Derek locked Dagwood Bumstead' s bedroom door as his trophy wife unfastened her suspender belt and let it fall to the floor. Then she unhooked her bra at the back, freeing her soft but firm gravity defying breasts. She felt their gaze burning into her body and knew she was doing the right thing. Finally, she turned her back on them and bent over at the waist, slowly easing her thong down her thighs and over her ankles. Now that she was completely naked but for the high heels and her stockings, she sat down on the bed in front of them.

"Okay, boys," she said in her sluttiest voice. "Are you going to fuck me one at a time or both together?"

The two men looked at each other and then they both made their way towards her as she lay back on the bed, her legs spread apart. Darryl exchanged glances with his friend Derek as they approached the naked white woman lying naked on her bed with her legs spread apart. The both of them took off all their clothes as they gazed at her curvaceous body with lustful eyes, knowing that Bumstead' s beautiful blonde wife was hungry for some black cock.