tagLoving WivesKidnapped

Kidnapped

byimhapless©

I, Phil Beacon, was a fairly happily married guy with a problem. There was a woman, Mary Johnson, who worked two buildings over from mine that I had a schoolboy-like crush on. I admit that it was not the type of relationship you would expect a forty year old father of two, like me, to have. It was classic infatuation. The mature part of my personality constantly chastised me for even thinking about Mary and told me to wise up. However the more primitive part of my personality told me to "go for it; throw caution to the wind." As a result, I was having a really hard time dealing with the situation, and it preoccupied my time and sapped my energy.

One reason that I was having such a hard time dealing with my situation was because Mary didn't discourage me; in fact, all signs were that she encouraged me. Her encouragement was despite the fact that she was married to a wealthy businessman -- she only worked part time for something to do, not because of any financial need -- and on the weekends and on various travels she loved the high flying life style that his money could provide.

Making matters even stranger, I don't think that the average guy would consider Mary's looks to be overpowering, and may have a hard time identifying with my covetousness. While there is no doubt that Mary is cute and has a nice female body, she certainly is not voluptuous, movie-star gorgeous, or instantaneously erotic. In fact, probably six or seven out of ten average men would think that my wife Melissa is better-looking.

What Mary does have, however, to a much greater extent than any other woman that I have ever met in my life, are smoky "fuck-me" eyes, a seductive voice, and the ability through eye contact to make you feel like the most important person in the world. Combine that with her perfect posture, confidence, and intelligence, and you have-- in my humble opinion -- one helluva sultry woman.

After months of internal conflict I came to the conclusion that what I needed was a week-long fuck fest with Mary to get her out of my system. Then, I convinced myself, I could stop being preoccupied with her, and be a more productive employee and a better husband and father.

*************

I met Mary almost by accident. On the first perfect spring day a little more than a year ago in an open courtyard in our office building complex some particularly adventurous and/or juvenile guys were playing Frisbee. Mary was sitting on a bench with a female friend; both had sodas in plastic cups sitting next to them. The friend, Alice, is a plain looking but very friendly woman who I subsequently got to know before she moved away about six months after I met her. An errant Frisbee was on line to knock over both of their plastic cups of soda as I was passing by, and hero that I am I saved the day by catching the Frisbee before it did its damage. I could tell during the lead-up to the incident that many of those in the courtyard were irritated by the three Frisbee players since they were disturbing the tranquility of the first real day of spring, so after I caught it I made a perfect lob of the flying disc into a garbage can about five meters away -- a lucky toss.

One of the players yelled something at me but since I was twice his size he didn't do anything about it aside from retrieve the disc. Once he retrieved the disc several people near the garbage can asked him politely, and not so politely, to terminate his disturbance of the serenity of the venue, so the three players stalked off somewhere else.

"Nice catch, and toss," Alice said with a smile.

"You must have had an at least partially wasted youth," Mary chimed in, her seductive voice making her innocuous comment one of the most pleasant sentences that I had ever heard.

"I live only to serve damsels in distress," I chuckled, pretending to tip a non-existent hat as I bowed. They both laughed heartily.

"Can I offer you some chips for your trouble?" Mary asked.

"If I can sit between you two fine young specimens to enjoy them," I shot back -- and then after a pause continued "unless you are famous movie stars here incognito and wouldn't lower yourself to interact with a commoner."

They both laughed then moved their drinks. Alice told me to have a seat, and Mary held out her bag of chips.

After ten minutes of conversation it was clear that we enjoyed each other's company, and the three of us met for lunch many times after that. After Alice moved away, Mary and I continued to meet for lunch, at least a half dozen times played hooky for a couple of hours and went to an art, car, or home show that we were both interested in, and developed a real friendship -- and me my fascination with her.

****************

I was in a quandary about whether to pursue my belief that if I had a week-long fuck fest with Mary that I could get her out of my system when the local newspaper had a very extensive article about a woman who had unsuccessfully tried to pull off a fake kidnapping, and how the authorities had determined that it was fake. A 100 watt incandescent lightbulb lit up in my head.

On almost the same day that I read the fake kidnapping article, I got good news at work. I was being promoted, and was being sent to a resort about three hours' drive away for a seminar. When I looked at the seminar schedule I saw that it was far from taxing -- meetings only four hours a day, and no required social events -- and that it was a reward as well as having a business purpose. Now a 500 watt halogen lightbulb turned on in my mind.

The third thing that happened only a few days later was when on a Tuesday Mary and I played hooky for two hours around lunch time and went to a Salvador Dali exhibition that had just opened up in one of the local art museums. During the exhibition, as we were viewing "Melting Watch," Mary remarked -- totally unsolicited -- "I really enjoy these outings with you Phil; they're a break from my boring existence."

"I thought that you had fun every weekend and on high flying trips while spending scads of money," I replied, surprised by her comment.

"That was before my husband Burt's business started going in the toilet. Now all we do is sit around the house. I might have to start working full time if things don't improve for him shortly," she sighed.

"What's the problem?"

"He used to have high visibility, but for some reason his business doesn't have name recognition any more. He let his advertising and marketing slide, and now he's afraid to invest the money he needs to jump start his visibility campaign for fear of going bankrupt if it doesn't work," she responded, again with a sigh.

This time the light bulb in my brain was a 2000 watt high pressure sodium light source!

"Why do you have an evil grin on your face?" Mary asked, a little non-plussed since what she had told me was hardly something happy.

"I'm sorry -- I just came up with a great idea. Since you no longer live the high-life on the weekends is there a time that we could meet for a couple of hours this Saturday?" I inquired.

After a pause and some contemplation Mary smiled and said "Sure; how about in the morning on Saturday at Grant Park?"

"My kids' soccer games are in the afternoon, so that should work -- I'll double-check their schedules, but unless something has changed how about 9 a. m. at the fountain?"

"Sounds like a plan," she grinned -- and then squeezed my hand. (Instant boner!)

****************

The rest of the week I spent time researching fake kidnappings -- on a computer that I bought at a yard sale solely for that purpose and leaching on one of my neighbor's Internet service that wasn't password protected, and which computer I would be recycling afterward. I found out the main problems with failed fake kidnappings -- ineptly trying to recover ransom money, making threats and demands that were per se illegal, trying to keep fabricated stories straight, and just plainly being greedy and/or stupid.

The ordinariness of Mary's name was also a fortuitous circumstance that would make things even easier if we were smart about them.

Of course my plan would be worthless unless Mary had the same desire that I did -- a week long fuck fest. Therefore, before describing my plan I had to see if Mary was as interested in a little extra-curricular carnal pleasure as I was.

I tried to look my best for Saturday morning when I told Melissa that I had "to go into the office for a few hours so that I can get to the kids' games and fully enjoy the rest of the weekend." I was very encouraged when Mary showed up also looking her best.

After a greeting hug and an exchange of a few pleasantries it was obvious that Mary was intrigued by the mystery surrounding my Tuesday comments, especially since I had smilingly refused to elaborate on them when we met for lunch on Thursday.

"OK, what gives Phil -- what's the great idea that you have?" she chuckled.

"Let me be perfectly honest about how I feel about you -- and unless my feelings are reciprocated there's no reason to go further," I started out. I gulped but my fear dissipated when a diabolical grin appeared on her face.

"Mary I am balls out besotted with you. You are in my thoughts every day. There is something about you that just fascinates, stimulates, and arouses me to the extent that it sometimes interferes with my daily life. I...I...I think that the only way that I'll stop fantasizing about you is if we go someplace together and I fuck your brains out for a few days," I somehow got out, followed by a sigh, cough, and gulp.

Mary just stared at me for a long time -- it probably seemed longer than it really was -- with that diabolical grin still plastered on her face. Finally she spoke: "What if a fuck fest doesn't satisfy you? What then?"

I gulped once more. "I'll cross that bridge if I come to it," I spat out.

"Hypothetically speaking, say I was interested; say that I thought that it might be a perfect way out of the malaise I have been wallowing in the last few months; say that I would like a shot at you as much as you would at me. How could we possibly go about it without ruining our marriages, social standing, and reputations?" she quizzed, still with that diabolical grin.

"If I tell you, do you promise never to tell anyone else, regardless of whether or not we go through with it?" I pondered.

"I promise," she chirped, and then unexpectedly planted a non-chaste kiss on my lips. "That seals the promise," she grinned.

So I told her my complete plan. I had charts, printouts, and photos backing up everything that I was proposing.

"So this seminar is the nights of the 17th-20th of next month?" she confirmed.

"Yes, but I would need to kidnap you during the day on the 16th. We'd need to drive together to the seminar that night so that I could make a 9 a. m. business session on the 17th," I replied.

After a long pause Mary smiled again. "And you really think they'll be no jail time even if we get caught?"

"We won't be doing anything illegal enough to be thrown into jail; but of course we don't want to get caught because that would screw up our marriages. The probability that this will work is high -- it just depends how far out of your comfort zone you think this is, and if your feelings for me are even close to what mine are for you," I concluded.

"It sure is intriguing, and it will definitely break me out of my malaise, if nothing else, and maybe even help my husband's business" she chuckled. "Let's have lunch Tuesday and I'll give you my answer then."

We rose, looked around, walked behind a tree, and passionately kissed. I placed my hands on her nice round and firm ass; she ran hers over my highly stimulated crotch. Then we walked away, in different directions, with smiles on our faces.

************

I wouldn't be publishing this story in literotica unless Mary said "Yes" on that Tuesday, and indeed she did. In fact, she seemed as excited as I was.

On Monday the 16th, in view of an ATM camera in a bank across the street, in a complete disguise (I couldn't disguise my six foot four inch (193 cm) frame but my slim build was disguised by a "fat suit," and my dark clothing would quickly be disposed of, as would the used motorcycle helmet I was wearing that had purchased from a surplus store), I "grabbed" Mary Johnson. I pretended to inject her with a drug, and she played partially limp as I dragged her away to an alley.

When sure that we were out of sight of not only the ATM camera but any others, we hustled through three parking garages to my car, already gassed up for our trip to the resort. I quickly removed my outer garments and helmet and put them in a plastic bag in the trunk -- I had thin regular clothing on underneath. With a blanket I covered up Mary as she lay prone in the back seat until we got well out of town, at which point -- with a wig and glasses on as well as with her coat removed -- she got in the passenger's seat.

I had driven twenty miles in the opposite direction of the resort before I pulled over at a rest stop and Mary got in the front seat. At that location I dumped the plastic bag with my disguise in it in the rest stop dumpster. Then I put a battery in the burner phone that I had some teenager at a remote mall purchase for me a week ago, and sent a text to the office of Councilwoman Mary Johnson -- so fortuitous that my Mary had the same name as a controversial councilwoman in our fair city (maybe not that remarkable after all since "Johnson" is the second most popular surname in the U. S. and "Mary" is the most popular female first name, there being about 4,000,000 Marys in the U. S. as of the 2000 census). The text read:

"Councilwoman Mary Johnson will be our guest until your office puts out a press release that says that you will guarantee that she will vote against the Bancroft Housing Development proposed for the East side. Regardless, however, she will NOT be harmed. If you feel the need to communicate with us use the website xxxxxx.gov.

The Fair Housing Alliance"

Of course there is no such thing as the Fair Housing Alliance, and I could care less how the councilwoman voted on the Bancroft Housing Development, but it was a controversial subject.

After sending the text, I made sure that all DNA and fingerprints were removed (I had always handled the battery and phone with latex gloves on so there shouldn't be any to begin with) by rubbing it with a wet-wipe, and then tucked the phone in a compartment of a truck with license plates from a state a thousand miles away.

Mary and I were virtually giddy as I skirted the city and then headed toward the resort, in the opposite direction of the rest stop where I had sent the text. We got to the resort in just over three hours, I checked in "alone," we snuck Mary and her suitcase up the back stairs, and after a quick dinner got to it.

Both of us were very excited as we stripped down. I was pleasantly surprised that Mary's body looked even better naked than I had pictured it, and she unconsciously licked her lips when my rock hard cock was exposed.

We tried to take our time with our first fuck -- but it was not to be. I came too soon, she didn't cum at all, and it was not one tenth as rewarding as either of us had visualized it. However, she had a good sense of humor about it, and we both ended up laughing.

"We need to slow down, tiger," she growled as she played with my low-hanging testicles. "Let's do some detailed body inspection, a little oral, and then try it again."

"Works for me," I replied with a grin.

What we found out by 8:30 the morning of the 17th, when I had to drag my ass out of bed for the seminar, was:

--Mary went wild when you sucked her clit, pinched her nipples while licking her labia, and/or squeezed the back of her right knee while fingering her asshole.

--My dick fit her pussy perfectly -- no room was left over in her pussy when my cock was buried, but her vagina wasn't stretched too much to make it in any way uncomfortable for her.

--Doggy was both of our favorite positions, and she loved having a thumb, or another object, inserted into her puckerhole while we doggy-fucked just as much as I enjoyed sticking a thumb, or other object, into it.

--We were both very attuned to the other's body as we slept, and if one of us awoke the other did too, resulting in middle-of-the-night sex of one sort or another.

--Each of the four full-fledged fucks that we had before 8:30 a. m. was better than the previous one.

While I was in seminar classes, only four hours a day -- I had to go since the material was important for the job that I had been promoted to, even if I didn't have to memorize anything but just know how to find out the necessary information -- Mary swam, got a massage or other spa treatment, and just enjoyed walking the resort grounds while preparing for our fuck fests when my classes were over and I had a chance to recover a little. I had a supply of little blue pills, and I intended to get as many orgasms as was humanly possible.

We were careful not to be too visible together around the resort. Also, Mary always wore a hat and sunglasses in public, as well as loose fitting clothing. We didn't eat dinner at the resort, but went into one of several different local towns for our evening meals.

The sex was other-worldly. After the first night, every fuck with Mary was better than any other fuck I had ever had before in my life, and unless she was a pathological liar the same could be said for her. We found that our libidos, circadian rhythms, and personalities meshed almost perfectly. In fact by the time that the 20th rolled around, we didn't have to be fucking to be thoroughly enjoying each other's company.

*************

Of course I called home at least once a day, and related my seminar activates thoroughly when talking with Melissa, and talked school and sports with my kids. Everything seemed to be going fine at home.

Checking the website mentioned in my text to the councilwoman's office was interesting, as was checking the main newspaper in our city on-line. It took less than a day for the councilwoman's office to find out that she had not, in fact, been kidnapped. It took only one more day for the police to act on the missing person report of Mary's husband Burt, and conclude that the inept Fair Housing Alliance had grabbed the wrong Mary Johnson.

The story had so many intriguing aspects -- plus a "crooks are dumb" type of appeal -- that it was front page and television news. Burt's business got more name recognition the 18th-20th than it had gotten in the previous five years combined, and noticeably picked up.

As part of our plan, on the morning of the 19th, while I was in a seminar class, Mary took my car and drove two hours away somewhat back toward our home city, but in another direction also. At a remote location where there were no cameras and with gloves on she removed a second burner phone that I had a second teenager buy for me at a second mall, about two weeks ago, from its package, put a battery in it, and sent a text to the website and the local newspaper. It read:

"We're so sorry that the wrong Mary Johnson is our guest. We hope that the councilwoman will still vote against the Bancroft project, but of course now we have no leverage. Our guest Mary Johnson has not been harmed, and we will return her to a safe location on the North side of the city on the 21st. Please apologize to her husband Burt and tell him that our members will be sure to patronize his business in the future to make up for our unfortunate mistake.

Sincerely, The Fair Housing Alliance"

After she sent the text she again removed the battery and drove back to the resort.

************

Mary and I were both sorry to have to leave the resort the morning of the 21st. Without equivocation I can state that it was the best time of my life. She expressed similar feelings.

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