In The Alley

Sophia's feet pounded on the concrete, her ponytail whipping around behind her. She checked her watch, keeping the time as she turned into an alleyway. Reaching the alleyway meant that she was about three-fourths through her run. The alley was usually deserted, except for a stray cat here and there. It was like any other alley in the city, garbage cans here and there, steps leading down into the basements of the buildings on either side. People always warned her about running by herself through an alley like this one, but nothing had ever happened to her here.

Her iPod was set on shuffle as always, so when 'Angel' by Sarah McLachlan came on, she quickly moved to change it, not wanting to think about abused puppies and kittens. As such, she was not paying attention, and failed to notice the hooded figure in black crouched behind a garbage can. He darted out, and before she noticed, locked an iron grip on her arm.

It took her a few seconds to actually register the brazen assault, but by then he had already yanked her to the steps. He half-shoved, half-dragged her down the steps. Sophia hit him frantically with her free hand, but he grabbed it and twisted. She yelped, now trying to kick, but he kept drag-shoving her, until they were inside the alcove. Ahead was a door that she knew would lead up to the building proper.

She broke away from him and dashed for the door. It was locked.

Before she could shout for help, the stranger slammed into her back, pushing her against the door. Just as quickly, he yanked her back and shoved her hard against the wall. She tried to throw an elbow back at him, but he twisted away. Taking advantage of the brief opening, Sophia threw her weight back at him, managing to knock him backwards. Again she dashed for freedom, this time towards the steps leading back up to the alley, shouting for help. He was on her again halfway there, one arm looping around her waist to haul her off her feet, his free hand closing over her mouth.

He threw her back onto the concrete, stunning her. Lights danced in her head, but the stranger gave her no quarter, pulling her up and again slamming her into the wall.

Something cold pressed against her neck.

"Stop struggling," came the gruff voice.

She froze, fear mounting. She was alone, in an empty alcove, with a knife-wielding stranger.

The cold still pressed against her neck, and she was aware of the stranger also pressed against her. A hand slipped around, brushing against her front, and she jerked.

"Stand still and I won't hurt you."

Sophia's mind was working quickly, to decide between fighting and letting the stranger do what he wanted. He had a knife, and seemed stronger than her. If she fought, she could get seriously hurt. If she did not fight...

The reason for such indecision was because of a feeling growing in her gut.

Sophia had always had a fantasy, one that she had denied and ignored for the longest time, never telling boyfriends. It involved the same situation she was sure she was now in: accosted by a stranger and forced into sex. She had imagined the anonymity and helplessness to be massive turn-ons. Many times, she had tried to act it out with a boyfriend. Either the boyfriend found it too weird for them or the experience was diluted by knowing that she was in zero danger. Now she was actually living out a fantasy and her body was responding. This stranger had not asked for money, had not asked for anything at all, but the way he was holding her, the fact that he had dragged her to someplace secluded, made it seem obvious to her what his intention was.

His hand dipped down, sliding over her t-shirt, stopping briefly at the waistband of her running shorts. She could feel his breath on her neck, the cold at her neck briefly receding. Through the haze in her mind came a rational voice, with a strategy to lure him into calm and strike when his guard was down.

This voice was silenced when his hand slipped underneath the waistband. She lost her train of thought.

The hand cupped her sex through the panties, an approving murmur coming from behind her. She shivered at the touch, trying not to make any noise. Undeterred, the hand darted into her panties. A moan escaped her lips. Another approving murmur sounded behind her, and she blushed, feeling the heat mount.

Sophia was finding it hard to believe this was actually happening to her, but there were plenty of sensations letting her know this was not a dream. The stranger was pressed to her back, a hardness she was trying to ignore accompanying it. His other hand had slipped around to her breasts; the hand in her panties was driving her crazy, making her forget the situation.

"Somebody's wet," he said. Her blush grew hotter as she realized he was right.

Sophia gasped, taken by surprise as his mouth closed on her neck, sucking at the sensitive flesh. She jerked, solid in his hold, and moaned as she felt his teeth scrape lightly.

The stranger continued savoring her, tasting her, feeling her. She writhed helplessly, any resistance slipping away.

Again he took her by surprise, hauling her down to the ground. Her mind was scattered and distracted by her arousal, but it crystallized for her that this was going to happen. Briefly she thought about trying for another escape, but the stranger's grip was strong and she was wet. She snuck a peek at him; he had a ski mask on, shielding everything but his eyes and mouth. He guided her down onto all fours, the concrete cold underneath her.

She glanced over her shoulder, watching as the stranger took position behind her. The exit to the alcove, and entrance to the alleyway, was over his shoulder. The prospect of escape was far from her mind, especially as the stranger yanked down her shorts and panties, exposing her pussy to the cool air. His hand slid up her shirt, the muscles in her back tensing under his touch.

"Head down, ass up," he commanded. She obeyed without hesitation, resting her head on her forearms. Several long moments passed. Her cheeks burned red as he gazed at her exposed sex.

Something hard nudged against her wet channel. She held her breath, waiting. Again came the rational voice. This is it, it said. This is the turning point. Leave or take what he gives you. Again her arousal overruled the voice.

Sophia was so wet, so slick, and the stranger slid easily inside her. He fed more and more of his length into her, until his hips pressed into hers. She whimpered, feeling dirty and depraved, about to be fucked by a stranger, and sopping wet for it.

His hands settled on her hips.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked.

"Husband," she admitted. He chuckled.

His cock slid back, her cunt grasping tightly to it. The stranger started up a steady pace, back and forth, stirring up her abundant juices. She tried not to moan too much, biting her forearm, but he knew the effect he had on her, chuckling at each escaping sound. His grip tightened on her hips as his pace increased slightly.

"What would your husband think of you now?" he asked. She whimpered in response; he seemed satisfied with that answer.

Sophia focused on his cock. The constant back-and-forth of his hardness was all she needed, all she wanted.

And then his fist curled in her hair. She had a second to wonder when he had taken it off her hip, before he yanked back, hard.

Sophia cried out, and then cried out again when he slammed hard into her, throwing any patience to the wind, pulling out until his head was nudging inside her and then slamming back inside her accommodating cunt. The alcove was filled with her yelps and squeals as he fucked her.

They settled into a consistent rhythm, his hips snapping back and forth. His fist was pressed into the back of her head as he held her hair, using it to keep her in place.

She moaned as she felt the stirrings of an orgasm. His balls slapped against her, the sound making her even more aware of what was happening, of his taking her, his possession of her.

His other hand snuck from her hip to her cunt. As she was distracted, savoring the sounds of her defilement, the hand found her clit and rubbed softly. She gasped, screwing back instinctively.

"You like that?" he grunted. She moaned something that hopefully passed for yes, and he kept stroking her there.

Sophia felt the edge approaching, and gave in, cumming hard. She sobbed in the throes of the most satisfying orgasm she had had in a while, throwing herself back against his cock. He had stopped moving, enjoying the view of Sophia fucking herself on him.

He started back up as she came down from her high. She groaned, and he tightened his grip on her hair.

"I'm gonna cum," he said.

"Pull out, please," she immediately begged.

He chuckled. "You've loved everything else, you'll love this."

Sophia tried again. "Please, I'm not on the pill."

"That's just irresponsible," he teased.

He picked up the pace again, thrusting hard into her, one hand in her hair, the other grasping her hip.

"My husband and I are trying," she moaned.

The wet thwack of flesh on flesh filled her ears. The stranger chuckled.

"Maybe I'll get you pregnant, give you a baby."

She groaned, the kinkiness making her crazy. Desperate, she bounced back at him, biting her lip.

"How would you feel about that, huh? I'll fill you good, give you a baby."

He fucked her hard now, his breath ragged. She knew he was close.

"Please don't cum inside me, please," she begged.

"You know you want it," he countered.

"No..."

He chuckled. "Yeah, you do. You've wanted it since I dragged you in here. You need it, we both know that."

She shook her head, gasping, close to the edge again.

"You need it."

He yanked back again on her hair. She cried out.

"Say you need it," he ordered.

"No..." she whimpered.

"Say it."

She shook her head. The edge was so close, so close...

"Say it."

He stopped suddenly, deep inside her.

"Say it or you don't get it."

She whined, trying to buck back at him. He held her fast.

"Say it."

"Please don't make me," she whimpered.

"Just say it."

"Please."

"Say it," he growled. Sophia moaned, and the attempt at resistance melted away.

"I need it, I need your cum, please..." she whispered. It was the truth; her face burned as she felt her cunt spasm, as if anticipating what it would soon receive.

"Louder," he commanded, pulling her up by her hair.

"I need your cum, please!" she cried out, rising up on her hands and knees, the way he wanted her.

He chuckled, and immediately brought his hips back, before snapping them forward, driving his cock deep inside her. She moaned, and was rewarded with another thrust, and then another, and then he was fucking her again, and she was cumming, wailing as the pleasure overtook her.

His cock drove deep one last time. She keened, full of cock, and then groaned as it jerked and erupted. He held on tightly as he came, filling her womb with his potent seed. The grip on her hair slackened as the spurts continued, until he had moved the hand to her back, caressing her, soothing her. Partway through his orgasm, she joined him in ecstasy, spurred on by the feeling of his load inside her.

After he finished, he stayed inside her for a few moments, savoring the feeling. His hands kept stroking her as they basked in the afterglow.

With a grunt he pulled out; the sound of his departure was wet and slick, her juices sticking to his cock, her cunt reluctantly letting him leave. Sophia kept still as he left the alcove. When his footsteps died down, she slowly and gingerly got up. She glanced down to her pussy; his cum was now beginning to trickle out of her. Still in the haze of pleasure, she reached down to scoop some of his seed into a crooked finger, and fed it to herself.

A few more tastes of the spent cum, and she was satiated enough to leave the alley, shorts and panties pulled back up.

Sophia reached her apartment a little while later, the adrenaline starting to wear off.

Her husband was at the counter, preparing supper. She walked over to him and gave him a tender kiss.

"How was that?" he asked. She smiled, ear to ear. "That was the best, thank you so much! It took me a little bit to realize it was actually you. And asking me about a boyfriend, that was brilliant!"

He grinned back. "I'm just happy you enjoyed it."

"And..."

She hesitated.

"What?" he asked.

"Just...thank you for not thinking it was weird."

He shook his head. "I keep telling you, it's not. There's much weirder stuff."

"Either way, thank you," she said, kissing him again. "I'm going to take a shower, then I'll come back to help you."

He nodded. "Hey," he said as she started to walk away.

"You know," he began, grin on his face, "If you get pregnant from this, and it's a girl, I know what we should name it."

"What?"

His grin grew wider.

"Alexandra."

"Why?"

"So we can call her Alli for short."