Prawns

It was a rather warm summer night and I was home alone. My mother was attending a work function and probably wouldn't be home until around midnight. When I went to bed it was, in my opinion, far too warm to bother with a nightie so I just lay on top of the sheets and dosed off.

I woke around midnight to the sound of someone moving around. I hopped out of bed, slipped on a big floppy t-shirt (Don't walk around the house naked. It's impolite.), and strolled out to see how the work event had gone.

Her bedroom door was open so I just waltzed straight in and got a hell of a shock. My mother was lying on her bed, fully dressed, plainly out cold, and a man was starting to undress her. (Starting with her shoes, fortunately.)

I didn't hesitate. I gave an angry yell and tackled him. He gave a startled yell and fell sidewards, which I approved of, but he also caught hold of my arm and took me with him, which I didn't approve of quite so much.

That mongrel seemed to twist about as he fell and when we landed I finished up flat on my back with him on top of me, holding me down.

I started struggling and yelling at him, telling him precisely what I thought of brutes who assaulted young ladies and their mothers. I tossed in a bit about low-life swine who drugged older women so that they were helpless to resist them. I also made a number of threats about what I was going to do to him once I got my hands free.

When I stopped to take a breath he said, "Prawns."

I was like, what? I just looked at him, wondering if he was a genuine nutcase instead of your standard lowlife rapist.

"Prawns," he repeated. "Your mother, I assume that she's your mother, not your sister, is allergic to them."

Was he saying that my mother looked young or that I looked old? I mean, twenty versus forty? How could he possibly think we were sisters? I contented myself with giving him a nasty look.

"I know she's allergic to them. She's always been allergic to crustaceans. What's that got to do with you attacking her?"

"Not attacking, helping. She didn't know that the tasty pink sauce was made from prawns and she had a decent helping of it. When her face and throat started swelling and she threw up her dinner we surmised that something was wrong and called an ambulance. I went to the hospital with her and the doctor gave her some antihistamines to combat the allergy and a sedative to let her sleep. Said to take her home and put her to bed and she'd be right as rain in the morning. They were short of beds and wanted any spares for serious cases. Seeing I was there I volunteered to take her home and put her to bed.

When you did your buffalo charge I was just taking off her shoes so she could sleep more comfortably. Those heels would probably rip the sheets to shreds if she had them on all night."

He had a point there. My mother always did favour high heels with a narrow base. The one time I tried them I fell off them and twisted my ankle.

Now that he'd explained things I had to admit that it all seemed quite reasonable. Not a potential rapist but a good Samaritan lending a helping hand.

"Sorry," I said. "I guess I jumped to conclusions."

"I guess you did," he said. "That's OK. You're allowed to protect your mother."

Now that I'd calmed down I became somewhat more aware of several other things. Things like my only article of clothing was a loose t-shirt that wasn't all that long. In fact it was somewhat shorter right now because in that short tussle it had ridden up significantly and was bunched around my waist, which meant everything below my waist was exposed.

At least, it would have been exposed if it wasn't for him lying on top of me, holding me down. This unfortunately result with his groin being pressed against mine and, even though he was dressed, I could feel him pressing against me, if you know what I mean.

"Um, do you mind letting go of me and getting up now?"

"Call me Ross. I don't mind but the problem is, will you?"

Even as he was saying that he was releasing my hands, but I was confused.

"Why would I mind?" I asked indignantly. "I'm the one asking."

"I know, but I wasn't sure if you knew that your top has ridden up and if I get off you then you'll be somewhat exposed just here."

My eyes opened somewhat wider when he said that because he'd slipped his hand between our bodies to touch just where he said I'd be exposed. Touched, hell! His hand closed over my mound and started rubbing.

He actually moved his hand away and then I gave another indignant little protest when I felt the back of his hand stroke across my mons and the edge of my lips.

"Take you hand away from there," I hissed at him, relieved when he promptly did so.

Then just like that I wasn't anywhere near as relieved. The reason I'd felt the back of his hand stroking me was because he'd been undoing his zip and now I could really feel the hard length of him against me.

"What do you think you're doing?" I demanded, and he had the gall to laugh.

"How old did you say you were?" he asked. "Oh, that's right, you didn't. Still, I certainly think you're old enough to understand what's going to happen when a naked girl attacks a man and drags him down to the ground."

"I'm not naked and I was protecting my mother," I yelled.

He promptly grabbed my t-shirt where it was bunched around my waist and pushed it higher, exposing my breasts and leaving the t-shirt bunched around my arm-pits.

"Effectively, you're naked," he pointed out, his hands now on my breasts and rubbing them. "Your reason for attacking me is even worse. Tackling a man you suspect of wanting to rape your mother, just so you can draw his attention to your beautiful nude body. Shameful. Obviously begging for a little masculine attention."

"I was doing no such thing," I howled and then gave a small cry of shock. His hand had covered my mound again but this time it was steering his cock into position.

"Don't you dare, WOE-AH." The last was said with a bit of a shout as he had dared, and his cock was already pushing into me.

"Take that out," I yelled, but was he listening? Not so that I could notice. His cock just kept pushing against me, slowly sinking into me, forcing his way along my passage. It seemed that having a man lie on top of you while you're butt-naked is enough to start your juices flowing, like it or not, and even though my passage was nice and tight he was still managing to make his way into me.

It seemed to take forever but I guess it wasn't that long before I was stuffed full of cock, choking with rage, and had two hands playing patty cake with my breasts.

"All right, if you've had you bit of fun you can pull that damned thing out and take your leave," I snarled, my temper rising even more when he just laughed at me again.

"You're kidding, right?" he said, sounding genuinely amused. "How about we get this show on the road?"

"How about we don't," I replied, only to be totally ignored as he pulled back and thrust home again, quite forcefully.

I'll admit I gave a small gasp when he did that as his cock sliding along my passage was doing things to me, raising feelings deep inside me. He continued with his thrusting, each new thrust of his cock doing more damage to my equilibrium, slowly confusing me with a multitude of feelings. Somewhat to my dismay I found that I was moving in time to his wretched thrusts, pushing my body up to meet him, as though I really wanted this.

Things rapidly got worse. The longer he went the less I was able to think coherently, the action taking place and the feeling of his cock rubbing inside me too big a distraction. Sure, I knew what was happening, but if my mother had chanced to wake up and stick her head over the side of the bed and look at us I wouldn't have been able to say anything. I'd have just gone on helplessly moving with Ross.

What seemed a very long time later I found he was picking up the pace. Personally, I was burning with need, wanting more and not too fussed about how I got it. At some stage I'd wrapped my legs around him and now I was clinging tightly as he kept building on the pace, racing towards his finish.

I have no idea if he was simply good at timing, or just dead lucky, but he started his climax and that was enough to set me off, and I climaxed in a big way, my scream muffled by his mouth ravaging mine.

He came off me, rising to his feet and doing up his trousers. I hastily tried to push my t-short down, knowing he was looking and laughing.

"You. . ." I began, but he interrupted,

"No need to thank me," he said, holding up his hand. "Happy to bring your mother home. Very happy. Ah, you might like to spend the rest of the night in her bed, just in case she has a relapse."

He actually had a good point there. If anything happened it would be a lot easier for my mother to just poke me than to try to get down to my bedroom.

"I'll do that," I said grumpily, "but. . ."

"Better be going," he said briskly. "Take care now."

With that he left and I heard the front door close moments later.

I looked at my mother, shrugged, and finished taking her shoes off. Then I went for a quick shower before going to sleep. I'd have to ask my mother just who was Ross. I wanted to do something to him, I just didn't know what.