Mischance

It was a hot Saturday afternoon in late Spring, with the Summer weather already here. I was home alone and relaxing in the back yard. I'd dropped a rug onto the lawn to make sure there was something between me and any crawlies and settled down to read for a while. I had a cold drink and some nibbles and my phone was playing some soft music and I was relaxed and happy.

While I was lying there it occurred to me that this was the ideal time to get myself a start to getting a tan. With no-one home and in complete seclusion in the back yard I could strip down to my undies and soak up some sun. I ignored the stray thought that pointed out I could get naked if I wanted to. Undies would suffice.

I jumped to my feet, unfastened by shorts, and was about to push them down when that thought came wandering past again. If I stripped I'd be free of tan-lines. There wasn't anyone around and I wasn't expecting anyone. If anyone did come by I'd hear them approaching and could wrap the rug around myself to protect my modesty.

I probably should have waited for a third thought but in this instance having second thoughts won out. I started pushing both my shorts and my panties down. I'm sure you can see where this is going.

I'd reached the point where I was half bent over, lifting a leg to take it out of my things, when a voice said, "Very nice," in what I had to admit was an appreciative tone. I, of course, tried to stand up, and turn around, and take a step away from whoever was there, and pull my clothes back up, all at the same time.

What I actually did, compared to what I tried to do, was get my feet all tangled in my clothes and pitched forward, hastily flinging out my hands to stop myself doing a face-plant. I finished up on my hands and knees, effectively half naked, giggling inanely at the sheer ludicrousness of the situation, twisting my head around to see who was there.

All I could see at first was what seemed to be a very big man looming above me, a stranger to me. Before I could tell him to go away or take steps to address my lack of clothing he'd settled down beside me, one hand pressing against my back, so I was stuck where I was, and the other hand closing over me in a very intimate manner.

"This is very generous of you, Tiffany," he said as he started rubbing my mound. "I accept your kind invitation."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I shrieked. "Get your hands off me. I wasn't inviting you to do anything. And my name isn't Tiffany. It's Michelle. I don't know any Tiffany."

"Not Tiffany?"

"Certainly not. I've never even met a Tiffany in my whole life," I snarled. "Now get your hands off me."

He didn't. The hand on my back felt as though it weighed a ton and I wasn't going anywhere while that was there. His other hand was busy, rubbing and petting and pushing into places it shouldn't.

A little background here. When I said he was a man I meant that he was a man about ten years older than me. He must have been around thirty. If he'd been my age I'd have referred to him as a boy, mainly because I've know the boys my age all my life and they were still boys as far as I was concerned. Even when they changed into serial gropers as soon as I passed eighteen I still considered them boys. Not this guy, though. Most definitely a man.

"No," he replied to my demand that he remove his hands. "I like the feel of you. Besides, you're not ready yet."

"What the hell are you talking about? Just leave me alone. It's obvious that you've come to the wrong place."

"I had sort of come to that conclusion myself," he told me, while at the same time slipping a couple of fingers inside me to start rubbing me internally. "Doesn't matter. All's good as far as I'm concerned."

I gasped at the audacity of his latest touch, gritted my teeth and snapped at him.

"If you don't get away from me right now I will scream."

"Yeah? Who do you think will be close enough to hear or will be able to tell where the scream is coming from?"

He had a point, damn him. Our property was on the generous side and unless there was someone out in their yard the neighbours wouldn't hear. As I'd seen both of them depart at about the same time as my parents I'd be guessing no-one was home. I also doubted that anyone wandering down the street would hear or care about a stray scream.

I took a deep breath and tried to appeal to him.

"It's obvious that you made an error in coming here and I'm sure your Tiffany is waiting for you. Perhaps you'll be kind enough to leave me alone now and go and stop her worrying."

"She won't be worrying as she wasn't expecting me," he replied. "Besides I think it'll be more fun playing with you for a while. Are you going to scream when I do this?"

The answer was yes as I gave a shocked scream when he brushed up against my clit. I took a ragged breath and was about to abuse him in no uncertain terms when I lost my breath to my next scream as he touched me there again.

"Don't do that," I raged at him, and he laughed.

To my great surprise and relief he took his hand away. True, he gave me a spank on the bottom, but compared to what he had been doing that was nothing, and I relaxed a little. As soon as he let me go I'd be up and giving him what-for. He'd be lucky if I didn't punch him on the nose. Or possibly between the eyes so that he'd have a pair of black ones. That would serve him right.

That, of course, is when everything went to hell in a hurry. His hand dropped back down to my vulva and he was holding my lips apart and I knew exactly what was trying to push its way past them. Trying, hell. It was already past and making deeper inroads.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I screeched. My high notes were sure getting a work-out where this guy was concerned. Also, it was a stupid question, but how else was I supposed to register my objection.

He didn't even bother to answer, just pressed forward a little more, sinking further in. And again. He wasn't going to stop and I knew it.

"Stop it," I yelled at him. "You're hurting me."

"Oh, I doubt that," he said softly. "I did wait until you were ready, after all."

So that's what he'd meant when he said I wasn't ready earlier. Captain Oblivious, that's me. I had to admit that he was right about one thing -- his touching me up had got me aroused, not that I wanted him to fuck me. As if I had a choice on that.

One last push on his part and I could feel his groin rubbing against me. I expected that he'd get right on with the job but he had other ideas. He pushed my top up and unfastened my bra. He then pushed that up so my breasts were swinging free and proceeded to capture them, squeezing them lightly.

Appearing to decide that everything was now the way he wanted it he finally started moving, pulling back and returning quite firmly. I shuddered slightly at the feel of him making free with my body but there was nothing I could do about it, right? Wrong. There was one thing I could do and I found myself doing it without even consciously deciding to. I started moving with him, adjusting to the tempo he set, swearing softly to myself as I did so.

My idea of rape, if I'd stopped to consider it, would have been some brute knocking me down, tearing off my clothes, and brutally fucking me. I certainly wouldn't have thought that I would manage to fall over into a doggy position, head down, bum up, with my skirt and panties falling by the wayside, offering myself to the world. As for the brutality, apart from the fact that I didn't want this, the man was doing his best to get me fully aroused, driving in firmly and rhythmically, encouraging my response, tweaking my nipples and breasts to help build my passion.

Oddly enough what I was feeling most resentful about was that I didn't even know his name. He'd just hopped to and started fucking me without even hinting at an introduction. I'd told him mine. The least he could do was tell me his. Damned if I was going to ask, though.

"Good girl, Michelle," he said. "You're doing wonderfully. How about we pick up the pace a little?"

My immediate answer was a no, of course, but did he take any notice? Ha! He just picked up the pace, bouncing his groin against my bottom, his shaft driving deep into me with each thrust. All I could do was groan and adjust to match him. (The groan was a mistake. He appeared to take it as encouragement.)

After a while I was starting to wonder how long he was going to go on for. He didn't seem to be in any hurry to bring things to a conclusion. I, on the other hand, was getting way over-excited. Reluctantly, maybe, but the stimulation couldn't be denied.

If he'd been my boyfriend (not that I had one right now) I'd have been urging him on, telling him to hurry up and do it, do it, do it. Yeah, like I was going to exhort this guy to finish things off. I just gritted my teeth to stop myself screaming and rode along with him, waiting, my hands actually digging divots in the ground I was so tense. (At least, I think they were. It certainly felt that way though the rug I was clutching.)

When he finally decided that he was ready to blow he upped his pace somewhat. That was all it took to send me over the edge and I climaxed with a scream, hearing him swear as he hurried up to try to reach his own relief. I was coming down from mine when I felt him starting to jerk as he had his own pathetic climax and I hoped I'd spoiled it for him.

He pulled loose and I just remained where I was for a few moments, feeling somewhat worn out. Sex can be rather tiring. I finally sat up and turned around, ready to tell him what I thought of him while inflicting grievous bodily harm. The rotten man wasn't there. He was walking away, turning around the corner of the house even as I watched.

I would have jumped to my feet and gone after him but, and it was a big but, I was effectively naked. A frantic adjustment of my clothing until I was halfway decent and I took off after him, breathing fire and fury. I reached the front yard just in time to hear a car driving off. Reaching the road and looking after him I can confidently state he drove a dark blue car, or maybe it was black. Like that would be a big help in my locating of him. I sighed and went back to finish getting my tan, fully dressed.