Used

Authors note: This story is lot darker than usual for me. It is not meant in any way to condone or excuse rape. This is strictly an erotic fantasy. The events and characters are entirely fictional. This story also features a fair amount of gay male sex. If this is not what you enjoy reading, stop now.

Used

By

Amber Solis

I was the average American woman. I had a husband, Dave, two kids, Anisette and Stella, who, like their names, were the stars in my life. A dog, and a home. I love my children, but my husband and I had grown apart, as happens all too often in too many marriages.

The cooling between us had started about six years ago, after the birth of our youngest daughter. To be completely honest, had never had sex as often as I would have liked, maybe once every two weeks. But over these last years, we had drifted completely apart. First, sexually. Then, emotionally.

I loved my kids, and our lives together, overall, enough that I had no thought of divorcing my husband. In a way it was easy, because sexually, everything had just... stopped. We never even tried, anymore. I had tried to spice things up in the ways the magazines always talk about: sexy lingerie, role-playing games, talking dirty, renting porn videos to watch together, inviting him to do things we would otherwise never have considered.

But I was shut down each time I tried. Dave would say these things weren't anything decent people would consider, and he'd go and work on his computer, in the office and leave me alone, in our bed. I wouldn't see him until morning, when he awoke at 4:30AM and got ready for work.

And Dave? He never tried at all. I didn't understand why. He was, to put it mildly, a hunk. Thirty-one, he worked out two hours a day, big, strong, and fit. And well endowed. He refused to go to counseling, too. His job, working out at the Gym, and taking care of our girls, had become what he lived for. He was a wonderful father to our girls. He was doing well in his career, rising up the corporate ladder like crazy, getting raises and promotions. Leaving only his wife behind.

If it weren't for internet porn, and don't look so shocked, you think men are the only ones watching the stuff? Anyway, if it weren't for internet porn and masturbation, and the fact that some sex toys can now be bought at the corner drug store? I'd have gone years between orgasms. But masturbation and toys will only carry a girl so far. Like all human beings, I longed for contact with another body. Sometimes I got so horny, I caught myself staring at other women. At least I told myself it was only because I was uncontrollably horny. If it hadn't been for masturbation, I'd probably have assaulted one of the young men, or women, bagging groceries at the supermarket.

Since I couldn't do that, and I'm only twenty-nine, in great health, and filled with all the urges of any normal red-blooded woman, I resorted to pleasing myself. Usually at least once a day. I'm five-seven, 145 pounds, and have nice c-cup breasts. I work in the medical field, so I've got a good job, and the chance to meet all kinds of men.

Maybe the problem was me? Maybe this cooling between Dave and me was normal, and I just have too high of a sex drive? As desperate as I was for some contact with a male body, or any kind of body, that wanted me as much I wanted it, I guess what happened was inevitable? Or I'm just rationalizing my behavior. Either way, sooner or later, something was going to change.

And one day, it did.

###

"Hi, I'm Mike. I'm here to look at the electron microscope?"

I had been sitting at the nurse's station, going through paperwork, organizing things for the next patient, when Mike walked in. He was a contractor who worked on electron microscopes. He was easily the most handsome, easiest to talk to, fittest guy I had seen in a long time. He was forty-five. I instantly took a liking to him, and his visits to our department became the highlight of my day. He usually came by twice a month to get a look at the electron microscopes. As you can guess, he was, predictably, a hit with all the girls. Of all ages! I saw girls of eight, to old women of eighty, flirt with him on the thinnest of pretexts. The medical industry probably has more women working in it than any other field except banking. And Mike was a natural-born lady's man. It was ridiculous, watching women approach him to ask him the silliest things, just to have an excuse to talk to him. And many women, of all ages, blatantly hit on him!

But he never seemed to accept any of their advances. And he had the ability to be able to turn them down without causing them to be offended. Women always walked away from talking to him with a smile on their face, because with only a few words, a turn of phrase, he could make you feel good about yourself.

I'll admit it, flat out: I had an immediate crush on him. I started fantasizing about being alone with him during the day, started having sexual dreams about him at night, and while I was masturbating.

I felt like I should feel bad about my affections straying from my husband, but honestly, our affection for each other seemed to have faded five, six years ago. After our last daughter was born. We were more like asexual room-mates who slept in the same bed.

So, no, I did not feel bad about this affection I was developing for Mike. If anything, I was glad I was crushing on a man, and not a woman! And anyway, it was never going to go anywhere, was it? It was all just one overly-lustful woman's idle fantasy.

When Mike visited, I had taken to hanging around him as he worked. I liked standing close to him, and took every opportunity to do so. Like all the other women in orbit around him, I had taken to touching his arms and shoulders whenever I could, on whatever pretext I could imagine. I started giving him a greeting hug, when he arrived at the office. One day, I guess maybe he wasn't paying attention to how close I was, and I guess I had gotten a little too close to him, but, he turned suddenly and reached behind him, and his hand ran smack into my left breast. Add in the fact that this particular microscope had to be shielded from stray light, so it was in a tiny little closet that used to be a darkroom, so it was close quarters. The door was closed, so we were alone.

"Ah!" I gasped. My hand flew to my breast, and my body was experiencing a slowly growing fire spreading all through me, radiating up and down from my breast. I hoped that in the darkness of the enclosure, Mike at least wouldn't see my blush. And at the exact same time, I hoped he did see it.

"Jenny! I'm so sorry! I didn't realize how near you were, or where you were standing!"

Now, in the medical field, with men and women working so closely together, this sort of thing happens all the time. Male and female bodies bump into each other. We're used to it. It's inevitable. We apologize to each other and forget it. Professionalism. But I found myself standing there, staring at him, sparks flying all through me, with my hand still on my breast.

Mike said, "Did I hurt you? Oh, God, I'm so sorry, I'd never want to hurt you!"

"No," I said. "I'm fine." Tears began filling my eyes, though.

"Oh, no," Mike said, "I've really gone and done it, haven't I?"

"No, it's not you." In the time I had known Mike, I found it so easy to talk to him about anything and everything. He was an attentive listener, and always made you feel like you were the most interesting part of his day. We had already conversed about things like children, pregnancy, menstrual periods, the state of my marriage, anything and everything. You just found yourself babbling to him while he listened. And he always remembered everything. So it was not a surprise when he said,

"Oh, you're extra sensitive right now, aren't you?"

"That's part of it," I said. And the fact that we were discussing me being in my period did not seem at all unusual to me. Like I said, he was easy to talk to. "The other part is, you're the first man to touch my breast under any circumstances in years!"

"No!" he was shocked. "I know you've told me your husband and you have had a "cooling of the fires," so to speak, but, really? Years?"

And now I was crying. I walked straight into his arms, put my head against his chest, and started balling my eyes out. Part of it was an honest outpouring of emotion to a man with whom I felt safe. And yes, being honest: part of it was using the situation to my advantage, and milking it for what it was worth. "I don't know how much more of this I can take!" I said. "I love our girls, we have a life together many women would kill for, but I just feel so all alone in my own bed! And I just ask myself if this is all there is? Is this it? Is it just me? It doesn't seem right!"

Mike was holding me in a warm embrace, comforting, not sexual, not taking advantage of the situation at all, even though I was making it easy for him, and he just let me work it out of my system. I may have extended the tears a bit further than they would have run, because I found myself loving being in the arms of a man!

"Oh, God, Mike, I've even found myself looking at other women. Flirting with them, just because I want to have a physical relationship with someone!"

"But you can't do that," he said. "You're married, and your vows mean a great deal to you, don't they?" I nodded yes. "And there are our girls. What mother would risk a good home for her kids? It's like I'm trapped!"

"Maybe," he said, "Maybe what you need to do is cultivate some other interests in your life? Just because you can't have one thing, doesn't mean other areas can't open up to you. If you only focus on what you don't have, pretty soon, what you don't have is all you think about. That's no way to go through life, take it from one who is a little further down the road."

"I've thought about maybe taking up horse riding, again," I said.

He held me away from him, so he could see my face, and said, "You like horses? Really?"

"I rode when I was younger. I had a bad fall, and never got back on."

"Listen, I have horses! Two of the gentlest, sweetest mares you'll ever find! Come out to my place this weekend, you can take one of them on a trail ride, around my property. I've got 30 acres of land, and while the trails are all flat, they're heavily wooded. There's all kinds of birds and animals in the area, especially hummingbirds. I've planted lots of the flowering plants they like to feed on. You'll love it! And you'll have some time all to yourself. Why don't you do that?"

"It does sound really nice," I said.

He wrote his cell number on a piece of paper and gave it to me. "Call me anytime you want to come out. Anytime! You can go by yourself, because the horses are really sweet and know the whole route. Or one of the other girls can go with you."

"Other girls?" I don't know why I asked that. Well, I do. As soon as he started talking about riding horses on trail rides, I was already fantasizing about being alone with him in the woods. To hear there were other women about the place was... disappointing.

"I have several boarders who keep horses at my place. Don't ask me why, but riding horses has become an almost exclusively female pursuit, even right here in Houston, Texas! And any of them would be glad to ride on the trail with you."

"Ok. I'll consider it," I said.

"Seriously, call me anytime. We'll make it happen!"

"Ok."

And then, having collected myself enough to get back to work, and getting in a last hug, we went our separate ways. A lot of men would have taken advantage of a woman in such a state of emotional distress. But not Mike. He was such a sweet guy!

Over the next few days I found myself thinking of taking him up on his offer. What would he think if I said I wanted to go on a ride with him? Only him? Ok, girl, just reel yourself in!

Wednesday, after lunch, I called him.

"Jenny! I'm so glad you called! You want to come out for a ride?"

"I do!"

"You're in luck! I've also got a cabin on the property. A group of the girls were going to ride way back on the property and sleepover Friday and Saturday night in the cabin, and one of them had to cancel at the last minute. Would you be interested in staying with them?"

"Um, I don't know. It sounds nice, but I don't know these women. I don't know if I can get that much time, the whole weekend, to leave my husband with the girls."

"You'll have a room all to yourself. Why don't you look into it? If nothing else, you can still come out and ride the trails. And if you can stay, the other ladies would be glad to have you along. They're a great bunch of gals. I know you'll all get along splendidly. And when is the last time you took some time for yourself, just you, like this?"

"I'll have to think about it, see what I can arrange," I said. But I'd already decided that if I could manage it, I was going to do it!

Ok. Surprise time: when I mentioned it to my husband, he thought it would be a great idea!

"You go ahead! I'll stay here and the girls and I will go and see a movie, go to the zoo, all kinds of stuff. Go! Have a nice time!"

And the way he said it reminded me of what it was I saw in him, all those years ago. He used to be so considerate. So attentive. I wondered what it was we had lost? How had we grown so apart? Could we be brought back together? And what would it take to do that?

"Would you like to come, too?" I asked, my heart filled with hope for a moment.

"No! I never liked horses, or the outdoors, you know that. I'm a city boy."

"Well, ok, then," I said.

Dave rushed off to tell the girls about their upcoming weekend. Their squeals of excitement told me they were onboard with the whole "Mommy being gone for the weekend" idea. While he wasn't so attentive to me, I had to admit, he was a good father. A great one, even. Maybe that was what had held me in this otherwise unfulfilling marriage, this long? A good father for your daughters is not something you just throw away without a second thought.

The next day I called Mike and said I'd like to stay the weekend, if the offer were still open?

"You bet the offer is still open!" he said. "This is so great! I'm so glad you're doing this!"

He gave me directions how to get there, and Friday night after work, I went out to his place, way out to the Northwest of Houston, two hours from where I live. All the way, the whole two hours, I was fantasizing how things might go, how we'd end up in each other's arms, and one thing would lead to another, and... I tried to stop thinking along these lines because it wasn't going to happen. I'd never cheat on my husband and risk destroying my whole family.

You may be wondering to yourself: two hours travel and still in the same city? Yes. Houston is the most spread-out city on Earth. Unless you've been there, you just can't imagine it. Fifth most populous city in the USA, too, I think. And the worst traffic! In Houston's horrible excuse for traffic, it took two hours to get there. It was 7:00PM, but as it was high summer, there were still hours of daylight left in the day.

Since we were dressed in scrubs during the day, this was the first time I had seen him in regular clothes. He was wearing blue jeans and a knit pullover shirt, a cowboy hat, and old, worn cowboy boots. Being the middle of a Texas summer, that was all he had on, and it looked damn good on him. I don't think he had an ounce of fat on him.

I was wearing black yoga pants, a sleeveless, cropped tank top with a modest neckline, leaving my belly and back bare, a sports bra, and sneakers.

"Wow," he said. "And here I thought you looked good in scrubs!" I gave him my now customary greeting hug, maybe holding him a bit tighter, and longer, than usual. It made me feel good to have my appearance appreciated by a man. His hand on my bare back felt so warm, and nice. It sent a shiver down my back, and I found myself hoping he did not, and did, notice my body's reaction to his touch.

"Ok," Mike said, "We'll get saddled up and ride back to the cabin, together, and I'll introduce you to the girls, then I'll leave you all to yourselves."

"Do you have to leave?" I asked. I surprised myself, I hadn't even realized I was saying it until I heard myself saying it. I blushed.

"Aw, aren't you just the sweetest thing?" he said. "I bet you say that to all the microscope repair guys."

"No. Only the ones I really like." Again, I heard myself answer, as if someone else were speaking my thoughts aloud! He just smiled and winked at me. His smile made a girl feel good. I had seen him do that to other women, and, yes, to me. And it worked.

It was wonderful being back in the saddle. The horses were just as sweet as Mike had promised. There really is nothing as nice as being on a trail ride with a calm horse, and I realized how much I had missed it.

The trail twisted and wound through the trees and thick brush like a maze. It took 15 minutes to get to the cabin. There were hummingbirds everywhere. The woods were as lovely as he had said they would be. I found myself relaxing, for the first time in ages.

We came up to the cabin, and my first thought was that it was larger, and nicer, than I had expected. It was at least two-thousand square feet, one story, with high ceilings, peaked roof gables, a metal roof, and a wraparound porch that went all around the outside. The exterior was plank siding, painted different shades of green. Inside was all manner of natural wood paneling, in different shades of stain. It was gorgeous!

"I'll show you around, and where your room is," Mike said. "Looks like the others aren't here, yet."

We got off the horses, put them in a nearby small corral, and then, opening the door for me, we went inside. It was a beautiful place.

"Your room will be back here," he said, motioning me to follow him down the hall. We reached a closed door, and he opened it and motioned me to go on in ahead of him. It was a large bedroom, with a king-size bed. I didn't immediately recognize the piece of furniture in the middle of the room, though. At first I thought it was a writing desk, but a somewhat high one, the top was just below hip-high. As I looked more closely, I saw it was bolted to the floor. I walked around to the other side, and saw the steel hoops. The instant I realized it was a bench for restraining someone, I heard the door slam.

I looked, and there stood Mike, by the door. But with a look in his eye I had not seen before. It was hungry, intense. Suddenly I felt panic. Like I was falling off a high cliff. And also: arousal. And anticipation.

He said, "We are going to have us a little fun, together, this weekend. If you don't give me any trouble, if you just give me what I want, just relax, and let me take you as much and as often, and however I want you, then you won't get hurt. Nothing that won't wash off in a shower."

"Mike, is this some kind of joke?" I was shaking with fear. My knees were weak. But there was no thought in me, at all, of trying to escape. Instead there was a perverse hope that he meant this. I was about to find out that he was serious.

He ran across the room and grabbed me, spun me around, and forced me up against the wall. One hand was on my lower back, and with his other hand, he reached up and viciously pulled my hair, arching my neck, and whispered in my ear, "Listen to me, my sweet little bitch: you are going to get fucked this weekend. Used. Raped. Many times."

"No, Mike!" But already I was getting wet!

"It's going to happen, baby. You are going to get fucked, all kinds of ways. But you do not have to take a beating. That is up to you. I'm giving you that much choice. But no choice at all on the fucking. The rape. Cause me any trouble, resist enough to piss me off, hurt me in any way, and I'll beat you within an inch of your life. Relax, let it happen, and I swear you won't get hurt. Hell, you might even like some of the things I have planned for you." His breath on my neck and ear was driving me crazy, his body pressed up against mine so violently, was causing my pussy to already begin aching. All of the sensations driven to a fever pitch caused by the fuel of fear and adrenalin.