Hands grab me from behind, pushing me up against a cold brick wall....His right hand is holding my hair in a scruff like a cat's neck, his left hand is on my left shoulder, keeping me firmly against the wall. I gasp. Startled. A little shocked, a little scared, and more than a little excited. I struggle between the cold bricks against my face and the hand holding my head in place to turn just a little, straining my eyes to catch a glimpse of him in the darkness, but he holds my head in place and whispers roughly "Don't move!" His voice makes me shiver. Even if I wanted to escape, I know I've got no chance of moving.
His body is heavily pressed against mine, I can feel the burning heat and hardness of his crotch against my arse and I think I like it. He's still for a few moments, they're only seconds but they pass like hours for me. I become aware of my short shallow breathes in the night air, my rapid heart thudding against my rib cage. He relaxes a little, breathing hot against my neck, making my skin tingle. His left hand is keeping me against the wall and his right hand is still roughly grasping my hair, pulling my head back. He moves his left hand around to my front, allowing me to move a little away from the wall. He pulls at the buttons of my top, struggling to find my breasts through the fabric. Familiar hands graze my nipples and I internally scream. I start to relax into him. Falling against him, melting at his touch, putty in his hands. He pulls my head to the side, kissing my exposed neck. I moan, unconsciously. He knows that my struggle is over. I now know that he won't hurt me. He's too caught up in the moment, he's under my spell as much as I am under his. The magic of touch, the power that sex promises. He turns me around to face him.