Sprawled out across light downy bedding the tall dark haired woman fixated on the void above her, examining the ceiling above her while she thought of whether to close her eyes and pretend to sleep. It had been several years, the journey here, perhaps the longest and most difficult journey's she had yet experienced in her own young life; the peaceful settled life so many of her friends had envied long past, and what was once hers, new home, loving and successful husband gone.
Now she lay in the cold basement of an unfinished house, the room next to her heavy with the shuffle and noise of excited drinking. Heavy breasts so normally the pride of her physique now weighed as a small reminder of all the reasons she now lay here. Those items which remain were soon reflected when at last she turned, pulling her form from it's center to cross down to sit at one side of the bed, facing a mirror.
It was her image she looked up to, a proud woman still sometimes, but seemingly less and less these days. She admired to her guilt the figure she had sculpted over the years, butt, waist, chest. Excruciating with her schedule; diet, exercise, work, and rest; never-mind an appointment here or there, the seminars, lectures, parents, staff, students... her mental list went on, it made her shudder. Inhaling there was a force she took from the air, some of the excess from the next room, with it she expelled the thoughts from her head as she again opened to what she saw.
Long toned legs, wide hips. Nice ass, her husband would say, the fire this once would lit slowly lost in these past years. Waist and chest, one narrow, one heavy with firm breasts she'd change for no other, massive man sized handfuls; the kind waiting for her in the next room, rough hands. She shuddered, the thought passing to near her present mind, a thought she was not ready to commit or confront.
Finally, sat upon its graceful neck, she inspect her face with it's crown of red auburn hair and slight angelic feature; she admired the sun kissed skin hiding the light freckles across her nose, blue grey mottled eyes as deep as wells and wide as saucers, they had no tears just now. Opening, a deep sigh exited her lips, brightly painted lobes, naturally plump they were defined so, so better in her favorite red.
Pouty her father used to tease; the thought of that man's description of her own once decent mouth made a breath catch her throat; it was not so much of that single memory of dad, but of it's contrast of what she'd done with her lips since, and what she was about to do. Tears welled around her eyes then, it was almost fear that did it, and it made her shiver, made her stare into that mirror admiring elegant features and still want to cry.
She could never understand, not if given every living day in the rest of her or husband's living lives, what madness had brought her life to this increasingly pitiful existence. She thought of Jon, and the life they were building, the home much like this that Aaron had helped them build. He was an old friend, well, a friend of Jon's family. There was trust there, but truth be told a man like Aaron was everyone's 'old family friend'.
The man knew everyone, and in his work those contacts were only that more deep. There was not a single builder in her state of any size or consequence that did not personally know Aaron, and there was a list that never hesitated to make time for his projects, or his favors. Megan had slowly discovered just how this man managed the latter.
The bastard had infected their lives, been their friend and confidant through the long hours of helping them plan, budget and build; he had twisted everything, seduced her, manipulated her, made that flame that has been cold so long burn so bright it could vaporize the ocean. When he had first used her, it had felt of love, of passion, she'd never been with someone one that had so totally shook her to the very essence of her being.
It was magnetic, and ever time she'd seen him after that day after she'd melt, the quiet house 'meetings' during work hours, swinging by late to 'check plans' and 'verify schedule', so captured she'd greedily take five minutes of physical contact with that man, and lose an entire day with her husband. She had cancelled a business trip to spend at his camp in northern Michigan, for three days she lost her mind in a bliss she would never forget, even in this torment.
That was two years ago, and her house had long since been built. These long years had strained, it had strained her health, it had strained her marriage and it had strained her career, all because she was still spending so much time with Aaron. Though these days it was no longer to see him, not to melt as she once had, there was no romance. These days she was discovering just why so many of his clients were young, cash strapped couples, and just why it was so very easy to make the budget stretch once the subcontractors had begun seeing her in person.
It had also been long since she had allowed Jon to touch her, her love not wanting for that man to sleep with such a cheap whore. That is what she was now, that noise that was next door was proof enough. This is what whores did, and Aaron with his party and nearly a dozen other men, this would be her first night doing so many like this. Knowing that she wasn't the first either, that pained her, that he could do this to so many. When she had learned that her friend Rebecca has suffered similarly, that was the day she stopped trying to help herself.
It was infrequent, one or twice every six months, she'd arrive and Aaron would bring her to the basement of an unfinished home. She sometimes wondered what poor woman had been raped like this in the basement of her own home sometimes, she thought it may be Rebecca, finding a long strand of brunette hair in her downstairs shower when she had first cleaned it.
It made her sad to think that her sweetest friend, the petite little woman she'd grown through high-school and college had been gang raped in her own home. If not hers though, it had happened. She had been strange when Megan first told her of who they had hired, always quick to change the subject or leaving when it had come up.
It wasn't until the first time Aaron had hurt her that she'd learned, Rebecca knew the moment they met the week following the attack. She'd bled for days that time, and had refused to leave work until so late at night she knew Jon would be in bed. She had hurt just that much and did not want the errant graze or attempted intimacy to betray the wounds Aaron had left inside her.
Wounds made when he'd bound her, fucked her. That cruel massive man and his cruel massive cock used her badly that day; so afraid of him her body contracted when at first he touched his thick organ between her legs; it was a long time before it was easy, longer yet before the agony cease. Thirty minutes he fucked her, body clapping against her own before she came, the shock of it happening disgusting her to this day. After that it had been almost another thirty minutes before he took a break. He did this three times.
It was not love, or sex. He fucked her; it was hard, it hurt and it was entirely for him. A dark part of her soul loved it, and while she was abused a small part of an earlier passion held on, convincing her that she loved every minute. It was why she pleasured him orally even after he'd used the place she'd never desired a cock. With her mouth she cleaned that mess, and she wished she'd bitten it off.
