While I was Sleeping

My name's Kate. I am a 48-year-old widow, who stands five foot -nothing and weighs a buck twenty. I ride a motorcycle, work out at the gym regularly, and I box. I have to be tough. I am a teacher for troubled youths, grades six through eight, at an inner city school. I teach Algebra 1 to awkward, pimply faced middle school-ers, boys with wobbly voices and girls with incessant giggles, to be exact. The job doesn't pay well but I have a glimmer of hope I am making a difference. Who am I kidding?!, It is all about the summer vacation.

I sleep walk, somnambulism occurs in around 3% of children and about 0.5% of adults. The body is awake and the dinosaurs are roaming the earth! The reptilian brain, the primal brain, is in charge of what are often referred to as, the four F's: Feeding, Fighting, Fleeing, and... Fucking.

When hubby was diagnosed with ALS, his mother, Renee, a retired LPN, came to live with us to aid in his care. He died three years ago but Renee has continued to stay with me up to this point. This spring she had decided to move to be closer to her sister. Me, being a member of the barren uterus club, I know Renee was moving to give me an opportunity to start a new life. For this, I will be forever indebted.

At the start of the summer, we rented a "Penske" that was large enough for her belongings and with space for my bike. The trip across the country in a moving truck with two howling cats and a bottle of Xanax in my pocket was uneventful. I stayed long enough for Renee to get settled in, then I took to the open road.

This is where my adventure begins-

One evening, as I waited to be checked into my room for the night, I noticed a man sitting in the lobby. A nice-looking man, impeccably dressed in a dark charcoal suit, this wasn't off the rack either, he likes the finer things. Blue collar?, white collar?, I don't care. It is the body I am after, how good does he look naked. The man sitting on the chair, feet flat on the floor, knees slightly bent; he is between 5'11 "and 6'1", the perfect height to bend me over his knee. From this angle, with the impressive width of his shoulders occupying the space of the chair; he weighs in at about 215#. He is a southpaw; in his left hand is a tumbler with an amber hue, whiskey perhaps?, no condensate on the glass?, he drinks it neat. That hand on my ass would fit like a glove.

Riding a motorcycle has me EXTRAORDINARILY perceptive.

"Kate, you need to get a grip on yourself, five hundred miles in that saddle has gotten you worked up. Check in, go upstairs, hit the shower, diddle yourself, hop in bed and turn out the lights. End of story!" I said to myself. And that is precisely what I did.

Sleepwalking away from home has happened before. They had informed me how I rode the glass elevator, stopping on each floor to look around before the front desk could determine my room number and guide me home. Or when security was called as I tried to get in the room one floor down, I had slept well that night, the couple in room #402 may describe their stay differently.

I woke with a start, "what the fuck?" I attempted to say aloud. Unable to move, they bound and gagged me. "Kate, don't panic, keep your cool, you will get out of here alive" I tell myself. I took a deep breath, slowed my heart rate and began to take mental notes to give to the police.

Let's start with the room-

I am alone; I am tied spread eagle; I feel a bar pressing against my spine, the telltale sign of a hideaway. The room looks familiar; this makes it easier, I haven't left the hotel. From this vantage point, I determine it is a suite similar to mine, a mirror image, mine has all rooms to the right, this is all to the left. "Kate, you have this, keep going" I say trying to reassure myself.

Describe everything, every minutia from your toes and work your way up, you NEED to break free-

My legs are pulled apart, stretched to their limit, they are tied tight, I can raise them only a few inches off the bed. With a tug and a flex of the foot; there is no chafing, no burning, no pull at the skin on my ankle, I know my legs are secured with something soft, a tie or a scarf, perhaps.

My pussy is moist with anticipation as I mull everything over in my mind; the sense of danger, the excitement, the unknowing. "Mmmmm..." I moan as another rivulet of juice escapes from my lips, making its way down between my butt cheeks and puddling at my nether hole. With an arch of my neck and a rock of the hips I can see that my panties are intact, my nipples are straining against the spandex of my camisole top, this was my choice of attire for bed, I haven't been violated.

Next. I move my tongue over the gag in my mouth feeling its texture; not the starched, stiffness of a percale sheet, nor the soft loops of a terry facecloth; it is a smooth, tightly woven silk. I inhale, a slight hint of ammonia mixed with the aroma of apple cake batter. Apple cake batter smells like the taste of a man's cum. This man smells heavenly and his taste is Devine. It is a pair of silk boxers, a pair of worn silk boxers to be precise.

My arms are raised above my head, elbows settled beside my ears, my wrists bound and secured to the underside of the bed. I strain to reach my fingers towards my wrists; I feel smooth leather, the indent of holes of a belt, the almost inaudible 'tink' of metal on metal as the buckle contacts the brace of the bed as I try to shift. This could be trouble.

I crane my neck to look around the room, looking for something that would show how long I have been asleep. I know my head is at the foot of the bed, precariously close to the edge. I need not wonder the intent of this angle, he will be surprised when I sink my teeth into his manhood if he tries anything stupid. In anger, I try to raise myself; it is a futile attempt. For now, I can only wait.

"Hello my Angel," said the stranger, "You are in heaven and I am your Lord,".

Turning my head, I glimpse a sinister smile creeping across his lips. Holy fuck!, in front of me stands a God. It is the man from the lobby earlier. This must be a dream.

His voice, with a hint of laughter, "I hope you had a nice nap, you have a long night ahead.".

I glare at him as he strides across the room, closing the distance between us. He is freshly showered and is clad in nothing but his birthday suit. His body is jacked; he spends time at a gym and he isn't there picking up chicks at the juice bar; this man has discipline.

His body is a marvel, broad shoulders, big guns, "perfection". While I should note his tattoos, instead I imagine using my tongue to trace the intricate maze to his loins, to his uncut, flaccid cock resting along the length of his right thigh. I gaze in awe, if I had learned anything in western civ class, it is the appreciation of the human form.

With a 'thwack', 'thwack', 'thwack', he slapped me across the face with his penis. He encourages a drop of pre-cum and with his finger he smears it across my lips. Deftly I snake my tongue out to get a taste. He looks at me knowingly and gives me a smirk. I have to be more cautious.

Sitting beside my head, tucking the loose strands of hair behind my ears, stroking my cheek with the back of his hand, I shoot him a look of indifference. I will not show fear, no sign of a struggle, I will give nothing for his pleasure.

"I will show you love, quench your thirst, give you the release you need," my pussy quivered as he spoke my thoughts.

He walked across the floor, inched the floor lamp closer to the bed and aimed the halogen bulb at my now sodden flesh toned panties. Immediately I felt the warmth of the bare bulb heating my sex. He is putting light on the subject.

Retrieving the ice bucket, he exits the room and disappears from my sight. I hear the faint sound of water being drawn from the tap.

It seemed like an eternity before he finally returned to the room with what appeared to be a doctor's satchel in his left hand and the ice bucket in the right.

The view is obscured by the bag as he takes a few moments to unload its contents on the side table, lining up each item with the precision of setting up a surgeons tray. Beads of sweat are forming on my forehead with the uncertainty of what this sick, sadistic bastard has in store for me.

As he stands over me I see a glint of light reflecting off a blade, a pair of trimming scissors, it could be worse, it could have been a knife. He slowly cuts away at my top, exposing my tiny titties. I force my body through the mattress to escape from his warm breath, the slight tickle of his beard on my chest, as he captures one of my pencil eraser sized nubs between his teeth and he begins to chew, first on the right, then on the left. An electric shock races through me on the invisible lead stretching from my rock hard nipples to my swollen clit. My loins are set afire.

"You, I hadn't expected on my trip. I am not the type of man to fashion a compass from a paper clip and a leaf, but sometimes we have to improvise." he said as he showed me the pair of whale back cuff links in his hand. He places the flat face of the accoutrements on my nipples and flips the whale's tail to close the links. The pressure is minimal, but he gives an extra little squeeze for good measure; I am familiar with the nipple clamp, I know it derives the real sensation when they are removed.

He walks over to the tiny kitchenette and pours himself a glass of water. He takes a drink then strokes his beard as though he is in deep thought. Water gushes from the glass as it soaks the gag in mouth. He is playing mind games with me; he needs to get this show on the road.

"Where were we? Right, it's time to take off the panties," asking himself a rhetorical question.

Soon, he has placed himself in the space between the back of the couch and the head of the bed. He stands there for a moment with scissors in hand contemplating his next move. I give him my best poker face while thinking under normal circumstances how I would ravish his body.

With a quick snip, the sides of my panties are cut free. A sleight of hand now has my cum drenched panties under his nose, he inhales deeply and a wicked grin slides across his face at his accomplishment.

He tosses aside the scissors and panties, as I lay here helpless, fully exposed, waiting.

I strain my neck to watch as he strokes the sheath covering the head of his cock to coax the cherry mushroom head out of hiding. I clench the walls of my pussy in an attempt to hold back the flow of my juices. He is magnificent. A pillow under my head right now would be nice.

He leans forward and feasts on the sweet nectar escaping from my hole. He grabs my hips pulling me closer to his awaiting mouth; I try to refrain myself but I am no match for his tongue darting in and out of my sex. He senses I am about to come and turns his attention to my swollen nub, sucking it between his teeth as his flicks it with his tongue. The only sounds heard are the muffled screams of my ecstasy.

As I bask in the afterglow, he repositions the lamp closer to my swollen pussy and returns to his bag of tricks, coming back with an electric razor.

To let you know, I don't shave my snatch. I prefer to keep her trimmed to precisely 3cm for the perfect 5 o'clock shadow effect, short enough to keep cool yet long enough to avoid the razor stubble.

Settling between my outstretched thighs he removes my coiffure. Starting at the outermost reaches and working his way inward, his fingers protecting my fleshy folds. With only a tiny sprig left nestled above my clit, he moves two fingers inside my warm hole and places his thumb over my button. The gentle buzz of the razor heats my box, he chortles as his fingers tap on my G-spot.

Retrieving a damp facecloth from the ice bucket he carefully removes any trace of hairs from my freshly plucked chicken. The humiliation, the degradation. Who does he think he is? When I get loose, I will spend a few moments working him over, he will feel it in the morning.

He unfastens the tie that secures my left foot from the frame, when he is within striking distance I land a swift kick on his right shoulder, I was aiming for his head. He snares my foot with ease as he glowers at me with his disapproval. He fists the tie in his right hand twisting it to regain his control.

With his powerful might I am flipped over his knee, he uses his mitt to light up my ass, not too hard, not too soft, it feels just right, from the warmth and sting I know my cheek has the perfect rosy glow. A stern warning that I need to behave or experience the punishment of discipline.

It is the witching hour, the beautiful beast uses lotion to calm the sting. Gently he massages the cool gel onto my burning rump before circling the tiny rose bud with his slick finger and dipping it inside my ass. I flinch and a tiny gasp escapes mouth.

"My Angel likes anal, you are full of surprises" he cooed as he picked up the tempo and slid his finger deeper into my hole with each stroke.

Kneeling before me he lubes up his shaft with a healthy splat of cream, he raises my free leg over his shoulder and carefully inserts his cock into my tight hole. With each stroke, his cock inches further into my opening, finally parting the ring. My head tips back as I whimper with each thrust.

His body retreats leaving only the head of his cock inside my ass as he picks up the razor. With a quick flick of the thumb the blade is released from the foil, a flip of the switch as he slams the base of the razor into my dripping pussy. The fantastical buzz inside my snatch as his throbbing cock is again filling my hole I begin to fall into a dreamlike state.

As his shaft is Plunging deeper and deeper into my ass, I rock my hips to take his full length. My eyes roll back, I am gripping and convulsing on his thick cock as waves of orgasms wrack my body.

He rips the cuff links from my nipples, a rush of my blood courses to reoccupy the space, the fine line between pleasure and pain, my body retracts rising my hips to my breasts as far as the restraints would allow as he continues to thrust until he lets out a howl and fills my ass with his seed.

Moments lapse before he rolls off my body and retrieves the razor from my drenched pussy. He looks pleased.

I am broken, no longer able to tame my hunger as his tongue lashes at my slit; sucking, gnawing on my clit; plunging his tongue between my lips, curling it to coerce the last bit of honey from the pot.

As I struggle to catch my breath, he gently uses a warm cloth to clean my lady parts, before laying beside me and turning out the lights.

At some point I had fallen asleep only to be awoken with the sound of the shower turning off. He emerges from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, His heavenly body backlit by the dim lights in the hall.

He climbed back into bed and planted tender kisses on my breasts while slowly working his fingers into my ravaged hole waiting for my sex to come alive. Gently he eased his manhood between my lips and made passionate love to me.

After I came he stood and toweled my sex from his loins and proceeded to get dressed. He removed the bounds I had had.

"You could alert the authorities, but I know you won't" he said while draping his button-down from the previous night over my shoulder and placing his business card in my hand.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, tumbling his card between my fingers, I watched as he turned and walked out the door.

**********

Thank you for reading, I appreciate any words of constructive criticism or encouragement.

Kate

XOXO