The Man at the Doorbyrockandroller©
The knock on the door is insistent. Not pounding, but firm, and you wonder who it could be. You've barely gotten home from the Wal-Mart and put the bags on the dining room table. New things for everyone. You know that Jordan is going to love his new truck, and the new silk nightie you bought is as much for George as it is for you. You had taken your time in the store choosing just the right one, holding them up in front of you as you looked in the mirror at one after another until you found one that you liked. It's short so that you can show off your pretty legs, and you love the feel of the slippery satin. Your indulgent shopping spree has lifted your spirits and you go to the door with a smile on your face.
It's a handsome man with longish blond hair. A picture of what he must look like naked flashes on the movie screen of your mind before he puts his hand on your chest and shoves you back into the house, stepping inside after you.
"What are you...?"
The slap across your cheek is so sudden that it's as if he's hit your thoughts with his hand and driven them out of your mind and across the room where they are no longer yours. It stings, and you put your hand on your cheek. You can't believe it. No man who's that good looking could be this mean, this violent.
"Bitch! You can't just walk around the store with that perfect ass begging to get fucked, teasing all the men by pretending to choose a nightie and not think that one of them is going to take you up on your offer. Your ass is too pretty, you're a fucking tease, and I'm going to see that you get what you were asking for." He talks low and fast, his voice a masculine growl that will brook no resistance from you.
He grabs you roughly and turns you around. You're still dazed, the fight knocked out of you by his slap. He shoves you forward and you stumble.
"Which way is the bedroom?" he demands. He shoves you past the end of the couch, looking into the study and Jordan's bedroom as he pushes you farther into the house. You're glad that school hasn't let out for the day, glad that you don't have to worry about him seeing his mother frightened. Or worse.
"This way, huh?" He puts his hand on your back and pushes you past the kitchen towards your bedroom. Your fear mixes with the pain from his slap and the flash of lust that you felt when you first saw him. It's a confusing mélange of emotions all fighting for your attention as you stumble towards your room.
You want to resist, but he's obviously strong enough to make you do whatever he wants. And now it's too late to protect yourself by locking the door, by keeping trouble away. Besides, you can't quite believe that what's happening is real, that a strange handsome man is in your house threatening to violate your body. He looks around as he walks behind you, taking in your house. You can feel his eyes on your ass as you walk and you try not to let it wiggle. He's too inflamed already.
When you step into your room he presses his body against your back, pinning your legs against the bed. Some faraway part of your mind is embarrassed that the bed is unmade, your blue comforter bunched in disarray. He grabs your hair, tangling his fingers so hard that it hurts.
"OK, lady. Take 'em off."
You don't respond quickly enough. He can't be serious, can he? This can't be happening in your own bedroom in broad daylight, after a trip to Wal-Mart. He yanks your hair hard and you yelp with the pain.
"Now, lady. Pull 'em down." He grinds his erection against your ass. You become dizzy and there doesn't seem to be enough air. It becomes hard to breathe and you start to pant. This is all happening too fast. You can't think. You try to push away from the bed to buy some time, to resist. You know you're supposed to, but he won't let you.
"Now!" he yells, and he cuffs your head with his free hand.
It doesn't hurt. At least, not too much. But you're afraid that if you don't do what he says he might become more violent. Tears are running down your cheeks. He begins to grind himself against your ass, obviously getting more excited and not needing to wait until you're naked to start taking his pleasure.
"You have such a perfect little ass, and I'm gonna get me some," he growls in your ear.
His words have a curious effect on you. You realize that under the fear and the resentment lies a tiny morsel of desire. A warm wet between your legs that won't take much encouragement to ripen into the full-blown need that always lurks not far under the disinterested demeanor you show to the world. You've always known that you had a cute ass, and the thought that a man is so attracted to you that he'd go to these lengths just to have it has jump started your libido. You begin to pant harder. Are you really going to let him do this to you? Are you really going to like it?
He cuffs you again, harder, but you scarcely notice. The slight pain is distant and irrelevant compared to your onrushing surrender, your growing desire, your impending fuck.
You move your hands to your jeans and unsnap them, knowing that for a man like this even such a small sign of willingness will incite him beyond retreat. But what else can you do? He is bigger and stronger than you are, and his will to have you seems stronger than your will to resist. Your panting for air is changing from fear to lust. You try to catch the fleeting air, to slow your need so that you can analyze it, so that you can figure out why you're so turned on. But you might as well try to stop the ocean waves from coming ashore.
"That's it," he says, approving the visible sign of your submission and tugging your head around again to show his superiority.
You take a deep breath, gathering your courage before you surrender to the inevitable, and you push your jeans and panties down exposing your white bottom to the handsome impassioned stranger. Somehow you feel more naked than you've ever felt, even though the only part of you that isn't normally bare is your bottom.
Immediately he shoves you hard in the back, causing you to flop face down onto the bed. He grabs your legs and swings them up so that you're laying on top of your comforter. The intrusion of the stranger has changed the nature of your bedroom. It's suddenly a strange place, no longer the safe haven for your girlish dreams, a warm retreat where you cocoon yourself every night. It's become an animal den, reeking of physical coercion and unbridled lust. You're face down, fully clothed except for your bare white ass. Even as you think it you know it's an irrational thought your mind has conjured to try to cover your fears - doesn't he know that you don't like to put your shoes on the bed? You are scared and excited at the same time.
You see him out of the corner of your eye, angrily unsnapping his jeans and pushing them down. His erection is red and insistent, already slippery and wet. You swallow hard, wondering what you had been thinking. You couldn't take that in your pussy, even if you were as wet as you'd ever been. What had you been thinking? Maybe he'll be content to just rub it on your ass. Or maybe you can get him to cum in your hand or your mouth and go away, and the horror of the man would be done. Would he just fuck your pussy if you acted willing?
But before you can try to change his mind about his threats to screw your ass he climbs on top of you, spreading his legs on either side of yours and laying on your back so that his cock is nestled between your cheeks. His need is hot, and you moan as your hips buck involuntarily against it, begging for and inveighing against his attack simultaneously.
"God, you have a great ass," he growls, grinding himself against you, sliding up and down your cheeks. Your whole crotch becomes wet from asshole to pussy, and it isn't all from the fluid dripping out of the handsome man's cock.
He leans up and grabs your tiny ass in his hands, spreading it open and causing a delicious hard tug on your clit. You stifle a moan into your comforter, hoping that he'll think it was a cry of disgust and not what it really is – a mewl of surrender and need. You can feel the slippery head of his dick probing, sliding between your soaked cheeks and searching for your little hole.
Suddenly he finds it and shoves himself inside you.
You squeal into the comforter. The pain is blinding and you feel faint. It isn't like you've never been fucked in the ass before. But usually you're soft and wet, prepared for the intrusion into your body where men don't usually go. This time it's different. The forced surrender to the man's need to be inside you is totally different from your usual willing one, and your body responds as if it's been irrevocably divorced from your brain, involuntarily twitching and bucking as it tries to urge him farther into you. You feel betrayed by your ass. How dare it enjoy this. He moans as you wiggle beneath him, his cock buried to the hilt in your butt. He gasps hot breath into your ear.
Your hands grasp the blue comforter, twisting the material as the pain courses through your body and the man begins to fuck your ass in earnest. Your breathing is ragged, timed to the thrusts of his big cock inside you. At first you don't realize each plunge is a little easier, a little more enjoyable. But his cock leaks more and more sperm into your ass, lubricating his assault with his own uncontrollable lust. Your asshole begins to relax and your panting for air become less about pain and more about your building need. Your body abandons you, not only submitting to the humiliating assault but encouraging it, begging for more by pushing against the man's body so that he is thrust inside you as far as possible. As he fucks your ass your pussy is pushed down into the bed and it grinds itself against the bunched comforter, demanding pleasure from the soft quilted folds of cloth just as the man is demanding pleasure from your ass.
"Bitch," he gasps. "You fucking bitch."
The dirty words rush to your wet slit, adding their potent excitement to the man in your ass. Your body responds, clawing it's way up towards its own orgasm. You feel his cock growing longer, reaching deeper into your ass and becoming more excited, swelling and getting ready to spew hot sperm. No, you think. Not yet. He's a rapist and a worm, and you know that he cares nothing for your need. But the appearance of the handsome stranger at your door, his sudden assault, your clit rubbing on the blanket and the big dick filling your ass have all combined to create an urgent ache between your legs, an ache that can only be assuaged by a hard orgasm. You need to cum. You will cum, if he just fucks you for a few more seconds.
His strokes become longer. Deeper. Slower. His dick feels like it's getting bigger, becoming a long sword that holds over your head the threat of pain and death as well as the promise of imminent joy. He's panting into your ear, his hands grabbing yours and pinning them to the bed, his weight heavy on your back. He's going to cum. You can feel it.
Suddenly his whole body stiffens, pushing you deep into the bed as his cock spews its load into your ass. This is it. This is the trigger you need. You just didn't know it until it happens.
You cum, grinding your clit against the bed as the stranger bucks and splurges hot slimy sperm into you. He moans into your hair and the sound is stifled the same way the comforter is stifling the sound of your moans. You're torn between two needs – the need to press your sensitive clit into the bed and extract all of the pleasure that there is to be had from the comforter, and the need to push your ass back so that the cock will be driven impossibly farther into your sore bottom. And so your hips buck you between the two needs, fucking and being fucked as the hot waves of pleasure travel up and down your whole body.
He slows and finishes as you do, the last little after-cums shaking you each in turn. His breathing slows, his mouth blowing hot air into your hair and whispering satiation and languor into you. You feel filled. You feel drained. Need has evaporated from you like a drop of water in the middle of the Sahara dessert, and your body turns to jelly under his weight. It's hard to keep your eyes open.
He slips out of your soaking ass gently, and you can feel droplets of sperm dripping from him onto your bare bottom as he lifts himself from you, from your bed. You want to feel enraged, embarrassed at your body's response to his assault, but somehow you don't have the energy. You just want to sleep.
He slaps your ass. Once. Hard enough to leave a handprint. The stinging causes your breath to quicken, but only for a moment. You're sliding into the arms of Morpheus and now that the man is done with you, he's no longer a concern. He's already gotten what he wanted, and he's pulling his pants up so that he can leave. You drift off to sleep.
At first you don't know where you are, what time it is, or why you're laying on the messed up bed with your clothes on but your pants pulled down just enough to expose your bottom. You realize that your asshole is sore and wet, and the memory comes flooding back. You feel yourself blush. Did it really happen? Could you have been so brazen that you not only allowed the attack, but actually encouraged him? That you came? You're embarrassed at your body's quick response to the assault, and your sleepy indifference afterwards.
You rise from the bed and fasten your jeans back up. Your panties become wet. They were pushed far enough down you legs that they missed participating in the assault, but now they soak up the sperm and girl juice from your nether region. You wander into the living room and gasp in surprise, because the man who took your ass in such a brutal fashion is sitting on the sofa casually watching TV.
The look in his eye softens as he sees you, and you wish that you weren't so disheveled, that you had taken a moment to at least run a comb through your hair before you left the bedroom.
"What are you doing here?" you say. "Don't you have to be at work? Not that I'm objecting."
He laughs. "I told them that I wasn't coming back from lunch today because I had to stay home this afternoon and screw my sexy wife. They told me that they thought I'd better because she's such a hottie."
You blush. You've been married to him too long to believe for a moment that he'd say something like that to his boss. But somehow the thought that he might have makes you feel giddy like a schoolgirl.
You giggle as you walk over and crawl into your husband's lap. He wraps his arms around your waist and you give him a long kiss full of gratitude for his imagination and his desire to cater to his wife's darker urges. You can barely remember when you had mentioned to him, in passing only, that you had wondered what it might be like to be taken forcibly by a stranger at the door.
As you break the kiss you run your fingers over his lips, and you can feel the first welcome tingles of desire returning between your legs.
"I'm glad, because I do think I am going to need another screwing."
Thank you for reading – I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please try some of my other stories also. Your comments and feedback are appreciated, as always. Thanks!