It had been a long day and at work, and her feet were sore. She breathed a sigh. Finally safe and home, she could let all her stress go. She opened the door to her darkened bedroom. Reaching for the light switch, she suddenly found herself pinned against the door. She couldn't see anything, but felt the weight holding her arms against her sides. Momentary panic was replaced by a thrill running through her as she recognized the voice.
"Shhhhhhhhh..." it whispered.
The hands released her arms, but she didn't move a muscle in the darkness. Pulling at her feet, her shoulders, her waist. Her clothes fell to the floor in a heap, piece by piece. Her bra and panties quickly added to the pile. She stood naked and blind in the still darkness, listening for movement, her back against the icy wall.
Hot breath rushed across her skin. It glided up and down and around her, sending goose bumps and chills through her. Fingertips -- soft at first, then heavier as they moved -- slid up and down her thighs. She was so excited. It had been so long. She had been waiting; unappreciated, needing this.
Hands reached for her, slid around her head, cupping her cheek and jaw. Her chin lifted and she felt his moist tongue lap at her ear lobe. It slid down, tracing across her throat to the other side, and up to her mouth.
They kissed; deep and long. She breathed deep into him, feeling his warmth, smelling his aftershave.
Her hands instinctively came up, but his hands wrapped around her wrists and pinned them back. He pulled his body back, their breath hot on each other's lips.
"The bed," the voice whispered. "Right fucking now." The hands released her.
She obeyed, stepping over. The hands spun her around, facing the bed. They lifted her arms above her head. Their bodies touched for the first time. She felt him, warm and soft against her body. His hands slid up and down her hips. He pressed his hardening smoothness against her. She pressed back harder. She wanted him inside of her so badly.
He nibbled at her neck from behind, softly kissing each spot after each bite, working his way across her shoulders. She shivered. She was wet, feeling him press against her butt. His hands wrapped around her stomach, found her breasts. Her nipples hardened under his fingers. He squeezed them between each finger, one at a time.
"Tell me what you want," the voice commanded.
She was embarrassed, unsure. She felt awkward. He pressed against her, pressing his hands against the fronts of her hips, thrusting his firmness, making her feel every thick inch of him against her skin.
She couldn't resist. "Take me," she tilted her head back, feeling silly.
"What?"
"I want you to take me," she felt ridiculous.
"Bend over," the voice commanded, absolutely serious. She felt a thrill up her spine.
She didn't move.
Embarrassment overcame her. She stood, with her arms in the air, waiting. Suddenly, the hands were on her again; pushing her forcefully but calmly. Inexorably, the hands slid her down onto the bed. Her feet left the floor. She lay flat, her hands pinned above her head, her face in the sheets.
Again, she felt the breath on her ear. "I told you to bend over," the voice said. "You didn't listen. Maybe I'll just leave you here like this, all exposed and wet. All spread out for me to take when I want."
She felt her wetness expanding, her warm slit slippery with her juices, screaming for his attention. She breathed deeply a few tense moments. Deep down, she knew he was as powerless as she was, now. This was only going to end one way. He was trying so hard to be forceful, but she knew him better. He had worked her up so much that she began to feel the pangs of sexual aggression seep into her thoughts, too. It was her turn. Someone was about to be taken, alright.
She shifted her weight to her palms, lifting her hips off the bed. The hands released a bit, surprised. She lifted her butt up, finding him. She slid him between her legs. She knew he could feel her bushy wetness. It always drove him crazy.
Smiling in the dark, she began to slide him up and down her. She could feel how hard he was; the little twitches and jumps in him that she knew meant she was hitting the right spots. He tried to pull himself away, at first. Then, he stopped fighting.
"I want you to inside me right now," the voice was hers, now.
She could hear him breathing loudly, forgetting himself completely. She slid a hand free, down; worked it between her legs. She felt for him, took him in her hand. He twitched excitedly. Slowly, she pulled him against her, waiting. One slight press and they would both be connected in pleasure.
"Do it," she rasped. "Do it."
