My Rapist – part 2

I’ve occasionally read pornography. I’m a healthy red-blooded American woman and I have internet access. Sometimes I’ll wander on to the occasional porn site and read the stories. (I much prefer the stories to the pictures.) I have a fantasy life, and sometimes I use the stories to fuel that life. One of the common threads in pornographic writing seems to be the never-ending lust of the female protagonists. ‘The ten guys that have been giving me this gangbang are pretty tired. I’ll just give them each a blow job and a quickie and we’ll call it quits.’ These women are insatiable.

Well I’m not insatiable. I’m thirty-seven years old and in my sexual prime, but there’s a limit. My husband Dan’s sexual prime was quite a while ago, so in my normal life I would admit that I don’t get laid enough. We have a once a week session that leaves me wanting more. But since I’ve been on this vacation, my sexual life has gone too far in the other direction.

In the past, people have always thought of me as being serene. I look serene. I’m calm, collected, cool, confident. Nothing seems to bother me. I’m at peace with the world. That’s the way I believe I’ve appeared to my family, friends, and business associates.

I’ve always had a workout regimen. I usually run between two and five miles a day just to relax. Then I go through a moderately rigorous workout with weights. Once a week I run for mileage, usually at least twenty miles. I may be 37 years old, but I’m not dead.

I was a distance runner in high school. My son, Jason, was born after my freshman year in college (yes, I got knocked up), so I never had time to run for the University track or cross country teams. But I could have been a college athlete, my times were good enough. And I never really got out of shape. Here I am, close to twenty years later and I still can knock off a respectable time in the mile, and then run two more miles back to back in the same time. I’ve got speed, I’ve got stamina. And I weigh the same as I did when I graduated from high school.

Running relieves stress as it burns fat. Three times a week I practice yoga as well. Serene; that’s what I am. People at work think nothing bothers me. My husband and son think I am the calmest person they know.

But now I’ve been raped three days in a row. Do I still appear so serene? Can’t my son see the tension I’m experiencing every time he prepares to leave the house? I’m a nervous wreck. Serenity appears to have gone out the window.

Not only that, I’m satiable. There must be a word like that. I’ve heard insatiable often enough. Some women are insatiable. It only stands to reason that other women are just plain satiable. I’ve had multiple sessions of animal sex for three days in a row. I’ve had too many orgasms for a woman my age. Satiable: my hormones are depleted; my juices are dry; my erectile tissue won’t erect. I’m all fucked out. I think I could sleep for a week. I need a vacation from this vacation.

For several days I’ve been torn between being terrified that Tommy would rape me again, and being equally frightened that he wouldn’t.

Today was the worst. After my usual morning jog, followed by a swimming-sunbathing session, I returned to the house to relax and await my next encounter with Tommy. I went to my room to lie down naked on my bed. I guess I must have drifted off, because I awoke feeling somehow restricted. There was a covering over my eyes, a mask or maybe just a handkerchief, so I couldn’t see. My arms were bound by something and held over my head. My ankles had bindings on them as well. I lay on the bed, totally naked and exposed, my legs wide open for anyone to see or use.

While I was sleeping my dreams had been sexual in nature. Why shouldn’t they be? Sex had been the dominant aspect of my life for three days in a row now. I had awoken with my sex damp and my breath short. I was already aroused before I realized my situation. I was helpless, alone, and vulnerable. I knew Tommy must be here.

I forced myself to calm down and wait. I could wait him out. He had to be at least as horny as I was. I felt a sudden movement on the bed. Someone had climbed onto the bed with me and I knew that person was between my legs. I said nothing, I made no movement. I waited. I felt a mouth. It kissed the arch on my left foot. A tongue licked between my toes. I felt one of my toes sucked into the mouth. This was odd. But it wasn’t making me any less aroused. On the contrary, there was something so very erotic about having your feet assaulted by a totally unknown mouth. (I knew it was Tommy, but I could dream, couldn’t I?)

The mouth left my foot. I felt a tongue on my ankle, moving slowly up to my knee. I felt hot breath on the back of my knee. Both knees turned to jelly. The tongue continued upward, making a wet line up my thigh and toward my center. My breathing was becoming more erratic. I felt the breath on my pussy. My pussy had been damp. Now it was wet. I felt a single drop of fluid slide from my pussy and roll down my thigh. The tongue must have seen it too, because it licked up the fluid, then dove into my pussy. I gasped with ecstasy as the tongue pushed deeply into my sex.

I was unused to being pleasured orally. My husband, Dan, doesn’t seem to be interested in that kind of sex, and before this week he was my only sexual partner. I must admit that cunnilingus was a prime mover in my sexual fantasy life and suddenly here I was naked and exposed, helpless to stop the assault of an unknown tongue deep into my innermost being.

I was crazed. My back arched on the bed, trying to force the tongue deeper into my body. I wanted to grab the head and pull it to me, but my hands were tied. Suddenly the tongue was gone. I groaned in frustration. Annoyed I said, “Damn it, Tommy! Don’t tease me anymore. If you have to fuck me, just fuck me and get it over with.”

Then I heard his voice for the first time and I panicked. I felt myself shiver in fear and sexual arousal. He wasn’t on the bed! His voice came from the other side of the room! “I promise not to tease you, Mrs. Holden. But I’m not in charge today.”


My God! There was a strange tongue on my bed, and it just been deeply inside my pussy! For the first time I struggled with my bindings, trying to free myself. But then the mouth clamped down on my breast. I felt the tongue, gently, sensuously, slide across the nipple, bringing it straining to its full erection. I tried to pull away even as my body felt a mini-orgasm rush from my breast to my pussy. The mouth suckled on my nipple like a newborn, gently licking my breast, trying to feed off of my milk. My hips started to rotate of their own volition. I couldn’t help it; I needed something between my legs.

When the mouth left my nipple again my frustration showed. I lifted my breasts as far off of the bed as I could, trying to find the mouth again. Suddenly it clamped onto my other nipple and I screamed. I had my second orgasm, and it was much stronger than the first. Usually after a climax I must rest and rejuvenate. The mouth didn’t give me a chance. As it suckled, I felt a finger lightly glide across my pussy lips. My back arched so quickly that the finger slid an inch into my pussy before it had a chance to react. It moved to my clitoris, softly circling the engorged little nub without actually touching it. I screamed again, my third orgasm of the morning even stronger than the second.

This was ridiculous. I had never had three orgasms during a single love making session in my entire life. Here I was with three already, and the person on my bed had done it with just a little teasing. The sex hadn’t really begun yet. Was I becoming a slut? I told myself with what little conscious reasoning I had left to go ahead and be a slut for today. I’ve fantasized about being a slut. I like to think of deliciously naughty things when I’m rubbing myself off. For just today, I could go ahead and be a slut and my conscience would be clear, I hoped. Besides, I wasn’t in control anyway. Slut or no slut, I was going to take whatever the mouth wanted to give me whether I liked it or not. I decided I might as well like it.

There was movement on the bed. I sensed weight over me, but not touching me. I knew the mouth was just above my face. I felt a tongue running across my lips.

I opened my mouth slightly and the tongue accepted my invitation, forcing its way softly inside my mouth. Other lips were barely touching mine and I was consumed by a kiss softer than any I’d ever imagined. The tongue was gently insistent as it insinuated itself deeper into my mouth, sparring with my tongue, making love to my mouth as if it were my pussy. My fourth orgasm hit me like a lightning bolt. I found myself begging for it, just like Tommy seems to like. But I meant it.

“Please. Stick it in me. Please fuck me. I can’t stand this any more. Please take me now. Please!”

I felt it against my other lips. It was the head of a cock. At last! Oh God how I needed it. It felt large. Omigod! It felt huge. My soaking pussy lips parted easily and the head slipped into my cunt and held steady. I tried to force it deeper but as I moved toward it, it moved away. I just couldn’t take it any more.

“Stop teasing me! Please stick it all the way in. I need it now. Please!!” I was a pathetic slut begging to be fucked.

I felt the magically soft mouth again kiss me, the insistent tongue again enter my mouth. And then the cock slid deeply into my cunt. I screamed again as another orgasm overcame me. I was rocking on this huge thing now in my pussy as I tried to concentrate on the exquisite feelings generated by the magic mouth. I felt light on my eyes and realized that the mask covering them had been removed. My eyes were closed as the orgasm swept through me. I slowly opened them to look into the eyes of my assailant. The mouth was still caressing mine in the most loving and sensual kiss I had ever known. Suddenly I came to my senses and my eyes opened wide. My God, it was a woman!

She lifted her mouth from mine and smiled down on me. The shock on my face must have been obvious. I glanced down to see that she was riding me with a huge strap-on dildo. It was too much. The sudden erotic shock sent me over into the most powerful orgasm of my life. I strained against my restraints. I screamed! I saw nothing but brightness and electricity. Then I guess I passed out.

When I woke up, I was still tied to the bed, but I was alone. I felt the cold clammy sheets beneath my bottom and realized I was lying in my own sex juices. I tried repositioning myself, but the restraints didn’t allow me to move far enough to move my bum from the wet spot. It was a constant reminder of what I had sunk to. I had become some teenager’s semi-willing sex object, and I didn’t even know how.

I wasn’t sorry it happened, and I didn’t feel guilty about having cheated on Daniel, at least not yet. I guess I was caught up in the energy of it all. I hadn’t made any effort to be unfaithful. That was the fun part. When I think of what it takes to have an extramarital affair, it just makes me tired. I have enough tension in my life (and remember, I’m the calmest person I know). I don’t want to be worrying about the web of lies I would have to weave to keep my husband from finding out about something that if he did find out, would wreck my marriage. It comes down to this: I would only willingly have an affair with another man if I had decided that I no longer cared about my marriage. Since I love my husband and plan to spend a lifetime with him, I have no intention of being unfaithful to him. It would be exciting, sometimes, to be admired by a man other than my husband. It would stroke my ego, I suppose, to know that I still could raise a man’s passion. But that’s small payback for ruining my life.

Still, as affairs go, this one was kind of out of my control. I didn’t knowingly court it. I was swept off my feet. All right, I’ll admit that it might be hard to buy the ‘I was caught in the passion of the moment’ argument three days in a row. There’s an old Mafia saying: ‘One time is happenstance, twice is coincidence, and three times is enemy action’. It’s possible that the ‘I was raped’ story might not hold water over an extended period of time.

Nevertheless, I had had my little fling. So far no one has been hurt. Now I have to calm Tommy down and make sure he keeps quiet.