Fenced In

There's a girl, she lives in a big house all alone, with a wrap around fence and a back door she always forgets to lock. Some nights a man comes by in the early hours of the morning, never before one am. He sneaks in silently, making sure not to step where the floor would creak.

He goes up the stairs and into our heroine's room where he slips into the shadows and watches her sleep.

Sometimes he's not so quiet and she wakes with a start, breathing hard, trying to figure if there's someone there or if it's all in her pretty little head.

He always waits until she's calmed down, lays her head back on her pillow and allows her breath to become easy and slow before he advances. Usually he'll just watch her sleep and pet her a bit, stroking her hair, her shoulders, palming full breasts, even pinching those sweet nipples.

Some nights he needs more and wraps his fingers around her ankles, running them slowly up her smooth calves, parted thighs, playing slightly where her thighs meet. If he finds the flesh warm and wet, he rarely can stop himself from dipping his fingers between her folds as she dreams of lying under a hot sun and feathers pressing against her cool skin, warming and pleasuring her with their deceptive movements.

Usually he can get our heroine off, her body twisting upwards into his touch, fingers grabbing at the sheets, without her ever waking. Not tonight. Tonight was to be the night he'd get more, give more. Tonight our villain became truly evil, truly sweet.

Discarding his clothes, he approaches with an almost cruel smile on his lips. Going through her drawers, he finds pairs of black stockings to tie her ankles and wrists to the posts on her bed, moving slowly so as to not wake her.

When she's sprawled out, black slip riding high, tits thrust into the air, and head fallen to the side, soft curls framing pale skin, he makes his move. It's not when he straddles her chest, or pulls the gown down to expose her large firm breasts that she opens her eyes.

She doesn't start until his cock is planted across her lips, pops it into her mouth and shoves the length down her throat. The ties pulling her legs and arms tight are immediately tested, as instinct to escape comes quick. But it's to no use.

Squirming to get away brings a sort of punishment, as his hand tightens in her hair and gags her on his cock. "No use fighting, sugar plum." His voice is low, haughty and menacing, implying that if she didn't relax and start moving in a more pleasurable way she'd be much more uncomfortable.

After a few moments she calms. Looking up into those black eyes of his, our girl lets out a whimper. He looks like a fallen angel, an evil god, with a dangerous smile and cool features. Our girl knows there's no use trying to get away, that she's his to do with as he pleases.

And at the moment what would please is a good blow job.

Swallows once, her eyes widen as she realizes he's the man from all her dark and delicious dreams, then starts at it.

Plump lips wrap around his thickness and she moves her head as best as she can in her current position. When she closes those doe eyes he chuckles.

"Open them or you'll be sorry, little miss. And if I wanted a plain cock sucking I wouldn't have come to you. If you don't make me cum in your mouth I'll have to flip you over and open that little ass of yours. Now don't be shy, give me your best."

It's at this our little heroine comes to a revelation. Her chest isn't only heaving out of fear and the difficulty of breathing through her nose . . . She's wet.

The cock in her mouth tastes heavy and almost sweet and she wants to suck and gobble down until he releases on her tongue. As if sucking on a pineapple her mouth suddenly begins to water and her tongue moves to caress the impeding flesh.

Her head begins to ache from the tight grip but she doesn't notice as the need to please this man becomes all she knows.

The ties are pulled tight once more and a new sort of whimper comes from her lips as she attempts to touch the man above her. Need to please overwhelms our girl as she continues to struggle against the bonds in desperate hope that she could perhaps satisfy this villain.

"Please." The word is muffled and hardly audible, but he's aware of her wants and he cuts the ties. Surprise and maybe disappointment play across the lovely ladies features, a question marked in her eyes as she looks up. Any upset or relief of being let go is quickly abolished as her arms are grabbed tightly and she's practically dragged from the warm bed to the cool wood floor.

Her knees hit with a not so gentle thump and he's above her. Nimble fingers move with quick ease to place a makeshift collar around her pale throat. The hose is smooth and a smidge to tight for comfort, but our heroin is beginning to understand this is how she likes it. Circling his hand more slowly now he wraps the material around his hand to get a nice grasp, her eyes transfixed on the movement, tongue darting out to wet dry lips. Her eyes glance upwards and she wants to thank him for the better angle, for the use of hands, which she has resting patiently at her sides but wishes to run up his thighs and to his balls.

The warm hand locks again in her soft curls and pulls her mouth to his flesh. As if someone turned a stark, heavy light on, she remembers she doesn't know this man. That he is violating her, that he broke into her house and is now forcing himself on her. Panic is high for a moment but then he's pressing into her and her lips open wide to accommodate his girth once more, able to take more down her now sore throat. She doesn't want to escape. She wants more of this strangers cock.

A tentative tongue slips out and laps at the swollen head, once, twice, before returning to her mouth, a thin trail of spit stringing between their two bodies. A low chuckle shakes his body and she smiles, knowing he's slightly pleased with her teasing. A tightening of his hand warns her though, and she jumps to suck on the head, first gently then with more intent.

With firm movements she bobs her head down every inch of his cock. When her lips meet his the base, he grinds his hips forward and a slight gurgling escapes her throat. Her fingers fly to his hard thighs and scratch their way down, digging in as he continues to fuck her mouth. After a few moments she begins to fight and a second later is brought off his cock with a pop.

Her small hands immediately latch on to his length, one fiercely stoking the saliva covered flesh, the other using slow gentle sweeps to massage his sack.

Only taking a moment to catch her breath she dives back onto his cock and suckles with all her might. The groans from above cause her to suck harder, wanting thick cum to soothe her fevered tongue. Abruptly, her mouth is pulled away, his hand clutched in her hair, dragging her from her salvation. The movement is unexpected and unappreciated by our heroin.

"Not so fast, sugar." His breath was ragged and he paused before continuing on, her eyes pleading from below. "I've changed my mind." True, he had come into her room with the intention of just getting himself off, doing as little as possible to truly corrupt or harm the girl. A quick blow job, that was all. But when she started basically begging for his cock, he started getting other ideas. When she whimpered and thrust herself on him, he started losing his composure.

And now, with the smell of her lust in the air, the nightgown around her waist, nipples bare and hard from want, he knew he couldn't leave her without fucking her soft body, without hearing her cum in his ear. He knew how tight she was around just two of his fingers, some nights it nearly undid his composure, and he knew by the end of the night he'd have to feel her orgasm grasping his cock.

Ignoring the confused look on her face, the slight downward drawl at her well-used mouth, he bends and lifts her up under her arms. The silly girl thinks she's not doing well enough, that I'm leaving. Not a chance. He moves slowly but with purpose as he backs her onto the bed and sits her down. She's shivering slightly, a bit from the cold she's just noticed in the room, and a bit from the fear that he really is bored or annoyed by her attempts to bring him off.

The bed is set high, dark stained posts towering at every corner and causing our heroin's feet to dangle a good foot or so from the wooden floor. Dark crushed curls fall around her bare shoulders and her head bowed, hanging in what she thinks is failure.

The moonlight falls through open curtains and her pale skin is accented harshly against black satin sheets. Our villain stands over her slouched, defeated body, hands coming up to warm the skin of her shoulders. His fingers are burning and she aches to arch into him, to feel the skin as well as the heat radiating from his body. Unsure of herself, she tries to stay still, but when he sweeps his palms down her arms and holds her wrists in his much larger hands she feels herself react.

When he pulls them behind her back and locks them both in one hand, bringing his hard naked body against her softness, her back straights out, rounding her breasts and belly into his front. The feel of him between her thighs is intoxicating and when he trails his fingers over her side to one bare breast and pinches the puckered nipple, it's too much.

Her lips part and he squeezes and twists, harder with every second passing until she cries out. His mouth swoops and catches the noise; his tongue making its way inside, tasting what is undeniably her sweetness and a saltiness that came from him. Her wrists still caught at the small of her back and her mouth being plundered, she pushes into the tight pressure at her breast.

Our villain knows well of the girls sensitive nipples. Many nights he's spent toying with their beauty. If he caresses in just the right way she can cum from the stimulation. Growling at himself for carelessly dropping the stockings on the floor, he detaches himself and grabs at the fallen cloths. Within a moment his heat is pressed again firmly against her soft, pliable body.

Clever hands reach behind as his strong arms envelope her tiny frame. Making sure to tie her wrists tightly he pulls on the material until her chest is thrust out and a small "oh" is sent up from her lips, the noise coming from both discomfort and pleasure, as to our heroine they are now one in the same.

"Wait." Her voice is small. She needs a moment to catch her breath, figure out exactly what is happening, and who this man is. She knows his face, his touch, his low voice, knows his body, it's all from her dreams...