The Lusty Burglar

It had been a restless night and David was still far from asleep. He lay on his bed, tossing and turning, watching the ceiling fan going around and around, hoping that in some strange way it might hypnotize him into a state of dreamless slumber. So far, no luck. Sighing heavily, he put his pillow over his face, trying to block out his own thoughts. That didn't work either. There was a bump and a crash in the living room, followed shortly after by the sound of his CD collection falling to the floor. With a curse at his exceptionally clumsy cat, he climbed out of his bed and headed out to clean up yet another of Felix's nighttime escapades.

Discovering the cause of the racket was not Felix, but a black clad figure trying to disconnect his VCR from the television set, he stood silent for a moment wondering what the hell to do now. The figure was a small build, maybe half his size, so he should have no trouble over powering him. Or so he thought. Moving silently up behind the distracted figure, Felix found the inopportune moment to slide his tail out from under a chair for David to stand on. Felix yowled in pain and fright, David almost hit the ceiling, and the burglar hit David full in the face, knocking him unconscious to the floor.

David knew he was still alive when the pounding in his jaw and the throbbing in the back of his head met in the middle of his brain with a crash. Damn his head hurt. He moved to rub the back of his head, but found he was firmly tied to the kitchen chair on which he now sat. He looked at his bonds,

"What the hell?"

He tried to break free, wiggling the chair and coming dangerously close to toppling to the floor, his last attempt landing the leg of the chair on Felix's already abused tail, sending the cat into a screaming frenzy and heading for the cat door.

"You know you really should be nicer to your cat, by the looks of things around here, he's all you got."

David was shocked then the black clad figure strolled casually out of the spare room and leaned against the doorframe looking at him. He was even more shocked to find it was a woman. She pulled the balaclava off over her head and let her long blond hair tumble free around her angelic face. How many more surprises could one man handle in one night? Not only was she a woman, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes upon. He didn't know weather to scream for help or sit there and drool, drooling being the safer option in his mind at this point. She had one hell of a right hook and he didn't want her getting pissed at him and slugging him again.

"He's looking for a new home if you want him, but I warn you, he's hard on the furnishings." Silently he cursed his big mouth. Now was not the time for wit and humor. She chuckled, tossing the knitted facemask onto the table and turning on a lamp. His stereo was old, with the door to the cassette player hanging lose, and the amplifier knobs missing. She hit play on the CD side of it and his Braveheart sound track came to life. Despite the condition of the stereo, it still put out a pretty good sound.

The music was soft and subtle, a few of the tracks he used often to help him relax, and some times it even worked. She raised an eyebrow at him, curious about his taste of music. Her eye's sparkled a little in the lamplight and her smile turned from cheeky to wicked. Slowly she began to move, swaying gently to the music, her movements steadily becoming more exaggerated, more erotic. Bound hand and foot to the chair, David had no choice but to sit and watch as this sinful creature swayed and gyrated her slender form before him.

Her hands went to the hem of her skintight sweater, sliding underneath the fabric and cupping her very ample breasts. He groaned softly, wishing there was a way he could be her hands, squeezing and fondling those large ripe melons. It was obvious she knew the affect she was having on him. How do you hide an eight inch erection all your wearing is a pair of spider man boxer shorts? Obviously, he couldn't, and the more his arousal became obvious, the more daring she became, sliding the sweater up a little higher to allow him a peak at the bottoms of her well rounded tits.

It occurred to David that this little minx was enjoying this as much, if not more, than he was, and when she pulled the sweater off over her head, he was sure of it. His eyes bulged a little at the sight of her perfect uplifted breasts. There was no way those could be real. They were just to perfect, round and firm, totally unaffected by time and gravity. Nothing like any of the breasts he had ever had the supreme privilege of fondling before, not that there had been many to boast of, but they were definitely not real. The bazookas before him now had him wondering if you could tell by touching them, or if she were to fall on her face, would she bounce back to her feet?

Before he had time to ponder this great mystery further, she turned her back to him, bending at the waist, sliding her latex leggings down to her ankles and giving him an up close and personal view of her perfectly smooth ass and red g-string. Looking closer at the way the thin string seemed to cut into her creamy pink skin, he wondered how that could possibly be comfortable. Without straightening, she spread her legs a little, looking at him between her long legs, blowing kisses at him with both sets of her wet luscious lips.

Turning to him, she slid the g-string off, flicking them and landing them perfectly across his face. He grabbed them in his teeth, shaking his head; trying to dispose of the tiny garment that was blocking his view. Taking a deep breath, his senses were over whelmed with the scent of her female secretion, making him remember that he had forgotten to get more tin fish for Felix and would have to go to the store in the morning.

She came closer, dancing and moving her body with more seduction than a twenty-dollar whore. Straddling his legs, she pressed those huge silicone mounds against his face, forcing him to gasp for breath and plead for mercy, but there would be no mercy. Not tonight. She rubbed her hard dark nipples against his lips; at least they seemed real.Taking a hand full of his hair she pushed his mouth onto her pointed gems.

"Suck."

What could he do? He was a hostage with no means of gaining control over the situation. He had to suck her breasts; after all he had no choice. He sucked with the ferocity of a newborn baby, hoping it was not possible for that silicone bubble to burst and squirt into his mouth. He could imagine it would taste simply awful. She wiggled on his lap, moaning softly, wetting the front of his boxers with her juice pussy.

Sliding off his lap, her hand sort out the opening in the front of his shorts, taking his erect cock in her hand and stroking it, making it even harder. Rubbing her mouth over his shaft, licking and sucking, squeezing his balls, torturing him as he sat bound to his chair. What was David to do? He was a helpless victim of this woman's wonton ways. He sat still, enduring the sweet and tender abuse. He moaned softly as she began to suck, taking his cock deep into her mouth, covering his throbbing member in her hot saliva.

She lifted her body, turning her back to him, and backing over his thighs, sliding her dripping love box down over his cock, taking all of him deep inside her. With her hands on her knees she began to ride him, lifting her ass up and down, pounding onto him like a valve needing a piston in a v 8 engine and the turbo running hot.

With a deep groan, reminiscent to that of a wounded calf he helped a friend with once, she orgasmed, her pussy muscles gripping tight around his cock and draining him of his seed. Milking him dry of all that his loins held, letting it run down his shaft and soak his boxers still more. He wondered if that was going to come out in the wash, or if he was going to have to soak it for a while, concluding that soaking might be the better way to deal with it.

Having had her wicked way with him, she dressed in his shirt, his favorite shirt no less, tucked her own clothing under her arm, picked up the VCR and left him tied to the chair with her red g-string pulled down firmly over his head. Turning at the front door to blow him a kiss, she was gone.

That was how Barry found him. Still bound to the kitchen chair, fast asleep, muttering something about them not tasting any different at all, though Barry had no idea what he was talking about and never would.

At least that was the story David told Barry about how his VCR went missing and how he came to be tied to the chair with his cock covered in pussy juices and the house half wrecked. Felix strolled casually back through the cat door and wrapped himself around David's leg. Smiling to himself, David thanked god that cats couldn't talk.