Fingered in a Stairwell

It was late, she was tired, and the elevator was broken. She mumbled a curse and took the stairwell at the end of the hall, too exhausted and stressed to notice the person who fell in step behind her. She pushed the door open when she reached the bottom of the stairs, took a full, exasperated breath of stale parking garage air, and then a hand slipped over her mouth from behind.

Her first instinct was to grab the man's hand and try to pull him away, but he quickly wrapped his free arm around her, pinning her arms to her side. She doubled over, trying to use her body weight to drop free, but that only gave him a better grip on her.

"Don't be scared, sugar," the man said softly against her ear. "I won't hurt you." He released her mouth and she let loose a scream that echoed painfully through the stairwell before he clapped a hand over her again. "I won't hurt you if you're quiet," he clarified, less softly, but she could hear the amusement in his voice. He released her again and breathed deeply against her cheek as his fingers slid down to her neck. "Stay calm." He stroked his thumb across her jaw and smirked. "You're in good hands."

He trailed his hand down her breast, down her stomach, down lower still until his fingers played with the waist of her skirt.

She squirmed and pressed her legs together. "Don't," she said, her voice shaking. She felt his hardness behind her and she trembled in his arms. God, this was really happening...

She let out a soft whimper as his fingers crawled under the waistband and stroked her panties. He pressed himself harder against her. "Don't cry, sugar." He dipped beneath the fabric and let out a deep, rumbling breath as his fingers rubbed over her lips. She pressed her thighs tighter together, and he wedged a knee between her legs and spread one out to the side. "Don't move," he ordered.

He parted her soft lips with his thumb and middle finger, then brushed his forefinger from the very top where they separated all the way down over her sensitive little bud to the very bottom of her slit. Whether from shock or pleasure or both, she gasped a little and jerked in his arm. He slid all the way up again and kissed her neck. "Here's the deal," he said casually, moving the fabric aside and grinding himself against her hips. "I'm going to play with you like this for as long as I want. Now, if you let me..." His finger slid slowly up and down her slit again, pressing ever so slightly. "...I'll stop there and let you go. But if you fight me..." He pulled her back against him even harder, and her skirt hiked up enough to feel his rough jeans against the back of her bare legs. "...then I'll hold you to the ground and force my way inside you in whatever way I want."

She went very still for a moment, then spread her leg a little wider for him. "Good girl," he crooned, and pushed his finger between her lips. She gasped again, and her knees trembled a little.

Holy shit, he was inside her, touching every wall, curling his finger just enough to test her tightness. She heard his whispered

"Fuck,"

then he freed her arms and quickly unzipped his jeans. She tried to step forward, but he pulled her hips back to him. He kicked her leg out farther to the side and slid his hardness between her legs.

She started to cry out, but he hushed her sweetly and rubbed his length back and forth along her folds from behind, over his own fingers. He returned his free hand to her and stroked her clit in wide, flicking circles. "Just enjoy it, sugar." He let out a rumbling breath as he pushed two fingers in and out of her, using the palms of his hands to hold her in place as he rocked himself against her from behind. Easy. Slow. Deep.

She blushed as that familiar heat trickled into her core. She was being forcibly finger-fucked in a public stairwell--she should have been mortified, but her body had immediately responded to his touch, ready for him. He could easily slip himself right into her with the slightest shift, and her slick entrance would offer little resistance.

"That's perfect," he purred in her ear as she tightened around his fingers. He pumped himself faster between her thighs and groaned as she arched her back into him.

She tried to fight it, but the perfect pressure of his hand on her clit, the wet sounds of his fingers twisting in and out of her, the feeling of him throbbing against her thighs... She gripped his arms and held them tightly as the wave inside her crested. With a small cry, she arched her back and pressed her head back to his shoulder, tilting her face to look into the green eyes of the man who was forcing this out of her. Her walls squeezed tighter around his fingers in hungry pulses of pleasure, driving him deeper, demanding

more, more, more...

He gave her the slightest smirk as he circled her faster, pumped his glazed fingers harder, and when she had ridden her pleasure out, he unleashed. He grabbed the sides of her hips and rammed himself between her folds as though he were truly deep inside her, spilling himself into her skirt and letting it run down her thighs. She shuddered against him in a final wave of pleasure, and when they were both emptied and exhausted, he held himself there against her deliciously wet slit for one last moment, then pulled away.

She stood there stiffly, still faced away from him, as he zipped his jeans and straightened himself. She didn't speak, didn't cry, didn't move

.

Normally he would leave now, but he hesitated. She might not do it herself, but if someone just happened to find her here like this, in this unresponsive state, they'd absolutely report it...

"Hey," he said, turning her to face him. "We just had a little fun--that's all it was, okay?" She just stared at him as the evidence of what he had done slowly trailed its way down to her knees. She didn't say a word.

Shit.

He took a deep breath, wrapped an arm around her waist, slid his hand through her hair to the back of her neck, and kissed her like a lover would--gentle and coaxing and warm. When he looked down at her, she blinked up at him, a little life returned to those pretty eyes. "I want you to go home, sugar," he said softly. "I want you to take a long, hot, glorious shower, eat something tasty, and curl up in a blanket and fall asleep to your favorite movie, okay?"

She nodded after a moment, and he smiled, keeping her in his arms. He didn't normally do this, but... "Do you want me to come with you?" She considered, then nodded again. He kissed the top of her head, held her hand, and led her from the stairwell into the parking garage. He didn't have to ask which car was hers, nor did he have to ask where she lived as he took her keys and drove.

When they arrived at her house, he cleaned himself up and baked a frozen pizza while she showered. She came out in her favorite hoodie and pajama bottoms of his, and snuggled up next to him on the couch. He played with her hair and rubbed her back while they ate pizza together and watched a show he didn't care for, but he watched it with her anyway because he knew she needed it. When she was ready for bed, he tucked her sheets in close to her, showered her with praise, and kissed his sub goodnight. Later they would talk about their first time in a public place, but for now, his good girl just needed rest.