Taken (A CNC Story) Pt. 01

Walking slowly down the street, just minding her own business, on her way home from work. It is a nice evening but getting close to dark. The breeze is light with the hint of fall coming. Leaves are starting to turn colors, and the mornings are cold, but the warmth of the sun rejuvenates the day's warmth. Daydreaming as she walks, oblivious to things around her. Her walk home is short, just a few blocks from the office to her quite little townhouse. All She can think about is that bottle of wine, a good book and a hot bath to relax the night away. She smiles slightly at a few people she passes them on her way home. Just the simple nod hello, followed by a smile. As she gets close to home, she passes by a middle-aged man, she couldn't help but think he is a not a bad looking man. He has a bit of scruff on his face, with some strong shoulders, he has a bit of an athletic build. She could not help but notice the strong-looking arms he had. The mental image of those bear arms flash through her head quickly as she passes by him. Her face gets a little flush as a hint of arousal rushes through her body. She catches the faint smell of cologne that was surly from him.

She continues her way home, just a little less than a block from home. As she gets to her door, she quickly checks her mailbox as she opens and walks through her front door. Stepping inside her little entryway, she hung up her jacket that she wore this morning, as it was a bit chilly on her way to the office. She sets her mail and keys down on the table by the front door. She turns and closes the door and thinks to herself "safe at home and now time to relax" as she thinks about the day's mentally exhausting tasks. She heads down the hall to her kitchen, which is at the back of the townhouse past the stairs by the front door. She decides to grab a glass and her favorite bottle of wine, ready to settle down after a long day at work.

She is startled by a crash of something by the front door. Her head swings quickly to look down the hallway to trying to catch a glimpse of what it was. Her heart races a bit, her breathing quickens. She slowly walks to the doorway to get a better look at her entryway. A smile comes over her face, it's only Henry, her cat. "Henry" she says, "you freighted me you silly thing".

Henry just simply stares back with the odd little blank stare cats do. He meows back at her looking down the hallway. Almost in a way to acknowledge her comment. She walks down the hallway and picks up the keys Henry had knocked onto the floor. She just giggles to herself about how silly cats are in those aspects. Always being playful and mischievous when they want to be. She strokes his back a few times as he arches in acceptance. Purring with delight of her gentle touch of affection.

She walks back down the hallway to grab her bottle and glass. She quickly turns and heads to the stairs and kicks off her shoes by the door. As she walks up the stairs, she thinks to herself about how nice and warm and inviting this bath will be. How her bubbles will cling to her silky skin as they float around her. The soft smell of rose and lavender from her bath oils. Her large claw foot tube under her bathroom window. It is her favorite part of the town house. You see, it's special in a way, as she has a large garden window next to her tub. She has filled that window with all kinds of plants. Not that she can remember all the names of those plants, but it does give her such a sense of peace laying there in the tub. Book in hand, candles going, the steam from the bath fogging up the large window next to it. Ah how she cannot wait to sink into bliss for the evening. She could spend hours in that tub. Every now and then, she will drain it down a bit and refill the tub with more warm water, keeping her nice and cozy as she reads.

She gets to the top of the stairs and turns left to the bedroom to grab her book off the nightstand next to her bed. She picks it up and grabs her robe for after the bath, as she has no plans for the night other than to crawl into her ware bed and continue her book. She walks across the landing at the top of the stairs to the bathroom. Turning on the light, she makes her way over to the tub and turns on the water. She collects her other bath items, her oils, the bubble bath, etc. She has a well-rounded routine so it does not take her much time to gather everything she needs for her bath.

The tub begins to fill but she knows it will take a while as it is a large tub. In the meantime, she takes a seat at her mirrored makeup area, takes off her jewelry, and sets them in their places. She slowly cleans off the day's makeup, not that she wears much, she is simple in those aspects. Just enough to make it look like she did something with herself. Enough blush, mascara, and some light lipstick for most everyday wear to heighten her natural beauty. If she goes out with friends, she tends to put in a bit more effort and time primping herself to really enhance what she already has.

As she sits there getting ready to get into her bath, she tries to recall if she locked the front door. She knows that is always the first thing she does as soon as she walks in. She shakes it off and thinks "of course I did, I always do". She walks to the tub and checks the water, slowly dipping her hand into it. Obviously, it is nice and hot just the way she enjoys it. Just on the edge of that temperature where it's almost too hot to get into. She walks back to the bathroom door and closes it to just a crack for Henry to come in if he so chooses to. Sometimes he enjoys laying all sprawled out on the bathroom rug as she sits in her bath, reading.

She walks back across the room and checks her inventory; she does not want to get back out of the tub to grab something she'd forgotten. She looks at the window ledge next to her plants, book, wine, glass, washcloth and of course all her bath oils and bubble bath are already in place in their usual spots.

She slowly swings herself into the tub allowing her legs to adjust to the hotness of the water. Little by little, she sinks into the nice hot and relaxing bath. Finally, submerged up to her neck, her skin glistening with the sheen of water, she reaches around to grab her oils to add those lovely aromas to her bath. She pours a glass of her favorite red wine and grabs her book. Just then, she sees the door move slightly out of the corner of her eye. Of course, its Henry coming to claim his spot on the rug. She smiles as he struts in the door and plops down, getting comfortable. She looks at her candles and sees she's forgotten to light them. Setting down her book, she leans forward, lights both candles, and settles back in to pick up her book again. She dives into her imagination as she reads. The day's hecticness and aggravations disappear into the air. Just like the soft white floaties of the dandelions wafting up into the air from the light breeze.

Time goes by and she is lost in thought, lost in fantasy. Her book is not one of those typical love stories where Mr. Perfect comes in and sweeps the girl off her feet and they live happily ever after. This is more of a dark romance, set in a fantasy like medieval times. It is more real in the fact there is no Mr. Perfect. This character is weathered, strong, and gruff. He takes what he wants and lives life the way he wants to. Oh, the life she would love to live! Of course, that is why she reads these books. To give her the chance to experience these things in her imagination, as she is too timid; much the 'take the safe road' type of person.

She reaches over, takes a few sips of her wine, and sets down her book. Grabbing her washcloth, she drops it into the water and picks it up to squeeze out the excess. Folding it over, she lays it across her eyes and lays her head back. Just for a bit, she wants to explore her own mind. She lays there motionless, enjoying the hot water penetrating her body. Pulling out the days stresses and relaxing her completely. Her mind runs off with her in tow, thinking of pleasures she has read in her books. It has been a while since she has been pleased, herself. Her hand glides through the water and between her legs. Her head, still laid back on the tub, washcloth over her eyes. She begins pleasuring herself with her hand. Her fingers dancing around her clit. Sticking them deep inside of her, she begins to moan. Her mind lost in her fantasy. Her strong, gruff, lover taking her just like in the books. Biting her lip, her fingers franticly bringing her closer and closer to the edge of bliss.

She continues to bring herself closer and closer to cuming. Only to stop back off and continue again. Her chest moves high in the water as her breath quickens. Her hard erect nipples slightly exposed to the air as her breast dance in the water as she moves around in the tub. One hand is completely occupied between her legs. As her other hand is busy exploring other areas of her body. The washcloth still draped over her eyes as she continues her journey to an explosion of pleasure. Her body begins to shake and tremble as the waves of sensation increase over her. The water sloshing around the tub as her frantic body begs for orgasmic release.

Everything is muffled outside of the tub, completely oblivious to her surroundings as she begins to climax. "Oh god" she murmurs under her breath as she continues. She bites her lip that sensation of her body about to cum is completely taking over. "OH GOD, OH GOD, OH GOD" she says louder as she begins to fall over the edge. That edge of pleasure that sends shivers of delight up and down her body. She cums hard... hard enough that she sits up in the tub nearly launching herself completely forward. Her body shakes and feels weak. She is gasping for air as she was nearly blue in the face from the sheer explosion of pleasure.

Her washcloth falls from her face, that little smirk of complete pleasure, no of absolute satisfaction washes over her. She giggles a bit as she collects herself, still completely exasperated from her self-pleasuring activities. She reaches for her glass of wine and takes a sip. Now that she is satisfied for now and her mind isn't racing to those thoughts, she may be able to get back to her book. She sits back grabs her book opening it to where she left off. She is still reeling from her orgasm; she smiles and leans her head back to lay on the tub looking back at the ceiling. But she did not see the ceiling when she leaned back. She went from happiness to complete panic as she looked up. Looking up into the eyes of the man from the street. Those deep brown eyes, those eyes of determination and strength. His face was lit up with a grin from ear to ear. Sheer amazement at what he had just witnessed her do in the tub oblivious to the fact that he was there the whole time watching her. Becoming absolutely aroused by her. But before she could make a sound, not even a peep, his strong hand was over her mouth. As his other arm wraps around her wet body and pulls her from the tub.