This is another old story. It is one of three tales describing a home invasion which leads to non-consensual sex, with this being the mildest of the trio.
I was born and raised in the south of England and until I was 29 still lived at home in my parent's house. At that point, eight years ago, the firm that I worked for relocated its offices to the north to cut costs and I moved with them, fixing myself up in a small flat. Almost immediately I met Ann, had a whirlwind romance and we got married just within the year. Both of her parents had sadly died within a short period leaving her with a rather nice house together with a small private income, so we lived there together. My salary had increased with the move allowing me to support her so she gave up her own full time employment and expanded a part-time profitable side-line instead. This was running lingerie parties in customers homes, at which she sold exotic underwear together with an extensive range of sex toys – some months her commission was in excess of my own earnings.
My wife was almost five years younger than me and when I say that she models the underwear at the parties herself and would not look out of place in any pin-up magazine, you will get a good idea what she looked like. I am of average height, reasonably good looking but by no means a sporty type. The only blot on a seemingly idyllic situation was Ann's undefined previous experience with other men. One night in bed soon after I had proposed she suddenly said, "I think you ought to know that I am not a virgin."
I had laughed and replied, "I know you're not a virgin, I've been to bed with you dozens of times."
Then she said slowly, "What I mean is that I am nowhere near to being a virgin. I have not been a virgin for a very long time."
I knew that she was trying to tell me that she had been with a large number of men. The knowledge did upset me but on the other hand, a woman who looked as good as she did could not get to be 24 without facing one hell of a lot of temptation. I had over the years been with a reasonable number of girls and women but I reckon most men my age had screwed a damn sight more - my handicap had been living at home, not having a car and pitifully small wages at one point in my career. So there was a big discrepancy in experience, but the past was the past and we could look forward to a fulfilling future ahead of us.
It was the day before my birthday and she had promised to buy me a completely new outfit of clothes out of her earnings. A bonus was that a new batch of underwear had arrived that morning and Anne said she would model them all for me as an extra birthday treat. I had taken this Friday off work to make the purchases and she was going to accompany me round the various shops. In the event it was a blazing hot day, Ann said she would feel like a spare part in all the men's shops that I planned to visit and would I mind if she spent the afternoon in the small park by the river. I met her there loaded down with parcels, we shared them out and made our way to the car. On the way home I said, "I'm feeling rather horny – do I really have to wait until tomorrow to get my big treat?"
Ann licked her lips lasciviously at me and smiled. "I'm only going to model the new kinky knickers for you tomorrow but I may be able to give you a taster tonight if you are so desperate."
Fortified with that promise I drove happily home and sailed with a flourish straight into the garage attached to the house. Ann jumped out saying that she would put the kettle on and went through the door that led into the kitchen. She knew that I might be delayed closing the up and over door which had become temperamental over the past couple of weeks. Today it worked fairly readily so that I was little more than a couple of minutes behind as I followed my wife into the house.
She was not in the kitchen so I waked on towards the living room, noticing in passing that the kettle had not been plugged in. Only one step through the door I stopped in total shock because standing facing me was a man. All I knew was that he should not be there and that he looked vaguely familiar. He had Ann in front of him, holding her tightly against his body. One arm was round her front with the hand cupping her breast and his other hand was near her throat gripping a small sharp kitchen knife.
"Don't try anything silly and no-one will get hurt," he said.
"Do what he says," Ann rather unnecessarily backed up his warning.
"What do you want? I've got cash, Take my credit cards. Take my car," I said fumbling for my keys.
"I don't want any of that. I'm just going to fuck your wife," he told me, reinforcing the message by squeezing her tit with his hand.
"Don't do anything Phillip. It doesn't matter," Ann pleaded to me.
There was nothing that I could do with that knife posing an immediate threat to my wife's life. Seeing that I intended no precipitate action, the assailant slowly lowered his arm until it hung loosely by his side but still clutching the weapon. That was safer but it still allowed me no leeway for action. I still dare not move but the rage of having an intruder in the house molesting my wife still needed an outlet. "You cowardly fucker," I cried. "Anybody can be brave with a knife in their hand."
He nodded as if agreeing with me and almost casually flicked the knife to the side allowing it to spin away and fall harmlessly onto the carpet. Psychology seemed to be working so I said calmly, "Now let my wife go. She is liable to get hurt if she is standing between us."
Again it worked for her released the enclosing arm and the hand which had held the knife pulled her away to the side as if she was no longer a part of the equation.
Now we stood face to face and the reason for his familiar look became suddenly clear – he had been working in the garden of the old couple next door all week. The man appeared to be about 25 years old. He had a shock of light coloured hair, was about my height but looked muscular, fit and tanned. I reckoned that he had about 20lbs on me and perhaps a dozen years. He also looked very confident. I crouched slightly but at the same moment Ann also crouched. In the fraction of a second that I paused wondering what she intended, she had dipped, snatched the knife from the floor and was lunging with the point directed unerringly towards his body.
How he knew I will never know. The intruder's hand flashed down like a snake, grasped her wrist and held it rigid while the knife was still more than a foot away from its target. With his attention distracted and the knife in my wife's hand, this was still my chance. I came up on my toes ready to spring. He looked at me and smiled. Then, extending his open hand palm up he made a beckoning gesture with his fingers and his eyes had that 'Do you feel lucky?' expression in them. I did not feel lucky at all. I hesitated for an instant and that was too long. Time seemed to go into slow motion and it seemed that we stood in frozen tableau for what seemed an eternity. Then, recognising inevitability, I sank back onto my heels and, seeing surrender in me, Ann released the knife.
Still standing poised like a cat, the man spoke to me. "I can cuff you to the radiator with garden ties and take her upstairs or I can do the business down here. Your choice?"
"Upstairs," Ann said quietly but he ignored her and kept looking at me.
"Here," I heard myself say. I think that a perverse part of my nature needed to witness if she responded to him or maybe it was only the belief that the power of imagination is worse than reality.
Our captor did not move. "That leaves another decision. If we do it here, I no longer think it necessary to cuff you at all. The thing is can I trust you not to interfere. Do you want the cuffs or not?"
This was subtle and a worse choice than the previous one. If I sat at freedom and made no attempt to save my wife from her fate, would I ever forgive myself? On the other hand – if I was wrong in my belief that he intended us no physical harm, would it not be better to retain the potential to sacrifice my life for hers. "No cuffs," I managed to mumble.
"Right squire, you look like an honourable man so I am going to take a chance on you. I hope you won't mind if I insist on a couple of small precautions like you sitting on the floor instead of a chair, I am sure you will be able to see what is going on from there. I know it is a bit undignified but it's harder to leap up from the floor if you get a sudden rush of blood to the head. Sit on a cushion if you like – it will be more comfortable and there is no reason that you should suffer for my pleasure."
Ignoring the cushion, I squatted down preparing to sit on the floor but he ordered, "Drop your trousers first and shorts if you wear them. Don't remove entirely, just leave them tangled round your ankles." Then, turning his head slightly towards Ann he said, "Fix your husband up with a cushion doll, we might as well give him a grand stand seat."
Ann picked up the largest cushion and walked over to drop in on the floor behind me but passing, on the way back to her previous position, she reached out and gave my arm a quick squeeze of reassurance. Then, with his back towards her the intruder said casually, "While you are on the move, why don't you take that silly little knife back in the kitchen where it belongs. It might just provide too much of a temptation if left lying about on the floor."
My pants were only half lowered and I tensed ready to leap into the fray as my wife retrieved the knife and walked behind his unprotected back. To my dismay, she walked straight past him and disappeared into the kitchen. This disappointment was short lived because I realised that a different opportunity had presented itself. Ann had only to slip out through the garage and she could get to our neighbours house. From there she could ring for the police and they should be able to arrest this nutcase before he had chance to carry out his foul intention. It was up to me to distract his attention so that he would not notice her prolonged absence for as long as possible. I sat but in such way that my bent legs where clutched up against my chest. "I know that you are probably a bit shy old man but I would prefer it if you had your legs straight out in front of you," he said.
Slowly I extended my feet until my legs formed a triangle with the floor but he indicated that he was not satisfied. In two more easy stages, I progressed to the position that he wanted with my legs more or less flat to the floor. From pure shame, my penis seemed to have retracted almost completely within my body. Mentally I was calculating how far Ann would have reached and reckoned that she must by now be knocking on the neighbours door – if they were not in, she could go on to the next or even just keep on running out of the clutches of the intended rapist. "Why are you doing this," I asked.
"That's obvious; your wife is a bloody attractive woman."
"But you are not a bad looking bloke. I can imagine a lot of women going with you willingly so why do you have to get what you want by force."
"I can get plenty of birds but it's your wife that I want. I have been watching her all week and she has got under my skin. This is my last chance. I'm off to the other end of the country tonight so this was the only way to do it."
