Forced Entry Pt 01

Even before I divorced my husband of 15 years, Friday night had been my fun night. My Friday salsa had been one of the triggers that had allowed me to realise that my relationship with him had become boring and completely without excitement. The infrequent, vanilla sex had always been there, but when my femininity was unleashed through dance, there was no going back. I wanted so much more.

The first night there had been a complete revelation. I'd tried salsa before, so knew what to expect, but when we tried Bachata and Kizomba, I felt a sensuality I'd not felt before. My god, this stuff was simulated sex! Because I'd always been a free spirit, I really let myself go into the movement and soon, the guys were queuing up to dance with me! When I got home that first night, my knickers were soaked. I was still with my hubby at that point and needed some relief when I got home. I slipped into bed and even though he was fast asleep when I moved close to him, I made sure he knew what was on my mind. I sucked his flaccid cock until hard, then climbed onboard to get some relief. I made good use of my new hip moves from dance and worked his cock deep into my body. He knows I've always needed some dominance in the bedroom and tonight I was feeling free and wild. I leant forward and whispered to him,

'Fuck me like you hate me...'

I climbed off and pushing my face into my pillow, lifted my ass in the air.

The problem is, he's just too nice. He's definitely tried to access his more masculine side in the past, and I thought, as we're going through some marital difficulties, he may take it as an opportunity to be more aggressive. As he knelt behind me, I said,

'Go on, fuck me up the ass...I know you want to.'

I felt a shocked pause as he processed that and then started to stab around in the dark. My pussy was sopping at this stage, so that was the easier entry for him and he slid in deep. Maybe he's lube-ing himself up first, I thought. He pulled out and slid his end up to the entrance of my tight ring. I pushed back to encourage him, but he was either reluctant, or having difficulty getting in as he tried to open up my tight hole. His slippery cock naturally slid down, and he pushed into my pussy once again. He gave a couple of deep thrusts, but then, moaned and pulled out, his cum jerking onto my back and dribbling down the crack of my ass. For fucks sake, I groaned inwardly and tried not to make my disappointment too obvious. After wiping his end on the inside of my thigh, he rolled over and crashed into the mattress. It didn't take long to hear the rhythm of his breathing indicate his sleep. As I'd done for the last 15 years, I reached down between my legs and imagined some bull of a man flipping me over and fucking me deep and hard. I swallowed down a shuddering orgasm so as not to wake the snoring heap next to me.

That had been the pattern of my Friday nights, but now, I'd got rid of the selfish bastard, but kept the excitement of my dance classes. It was a definite highlight of the week and I loved the anticipation of getting ready but also the unknown factor of who would turn up to the class. Many of the girls would come in jeans and trainers, but I always wanted to look and feel as feminine as possible. That was all part of the excitement and enjoyment for me. I've always known what men like and the attention it brings adds to my own natural feminine style. I've always been tall at 5'8'' with long legs and a tight ass, and now, even in my 40's I still have a figure I love to show off.

For salsa I'd always wear a flowy skirt and thin blouse or a cute dress. I also always wear nylons as it makes me feel ultra feminine and heels are pretty much compulsory for dancing something as sensual as Latin. Dressing like this makes me feel so in touch with myself and I must admit I love the attention it gets me. The loose skirt allows easy access for the many thick masculine legs that are pushed between my thighs during Kizomba and as I'm tall, tends to put some delicious pressure on my clit as I'm pulled around. Often during the summer months they use a fan in the sweltering dance hall and the men will deliberately spin me in its direction to blow my skirt up Marilyn-style. As I often wear holdups or stockings and suspenders, this proves to be a popular move. I feign ignorance, but actually love the reaction it creates.

This particular Friday, I dropped the kids with my ex and then rushed home to get myself ready. I always put my salsa mix on in the background and it provides a clear demarcation between my working week and my fun Friday night. As I dress, I can feel my excitement build as I relax and start to move to the intoxicating music. I put on a flowing flower-print skirt that is just above the knee and a white blouse that in the right light shows my lace bra underneath. I pulled on a pair of nude sheer holdups and secured them high on my thighs as I was half expecting the tops to be on show as I'm spun around. My strappy high heels are perfect for dance with a 2" heel and a soft sole for free spinning. I leave my hair down and make sure my lips are red to match my nails.

The format of the evening is a dance class followed by a 'social', or free dance session, where anyone dances with a partner and perfects the moves they've learnt in the lesson. Tonight, as the social started, an influx of new people came to join the free dance session. There were about six men, who looked a little rougher than the normal crowd that came into the suburban church hall. At this stage in the evening, the lights are down and the music loud. They mingled amongst the crowd, some standing at the bar assessing the dance floor. I was about to sit the next dance out when someone stepped out of the darkness and held his hand out.

'Dance?' he asked.

'Sure.' I said, taking his outstretched hand.

He dragged me assertively into the middle of the dance floor and pulled me in tight. He was slim, but muscular and had tattoos along his arms and up his neck. He looked at me directly and his eyes were blue and piercing, with a hint of wildness about them. His face was close to mine and I could smell alcohol and cigarette smoke on his breath. We felt for the beat and started to move. Salsa requires a strong lead, and he knew how to dance. He moved well and I could feel the confidence through his hands and movement. As he spun me around his hands guided my body closely. His hand position meant that as I moved around his open palm would move over my hips and around my waist. As I relaxed into his style of dance, my hips moved more freely and so did his hands. They moved down from my hips and when I turned, they ran over the cheeks of my ass, and on a couple of occasions across the front of my breasts. I wasn't sure if this was entirely deliberate and was slightly embarrassed as I could feel that my nipples had hardened at the attention. I wondered if he'd felt. When he pulled me in for the final beat, he held me in place for a second. I started to pull away, but he held me tight.

'Nice...' he said, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

'Thank you.' I said politely and extracted myself.

For the next few dances I was aware that he was watching me and when a few men swung me past the fan, I felt a thrill of danger as my skirt blew up.

The next song was a Kizomba and before I could make it to my seat, I felt a hand slip around my waist.

'May I?' said the tattooed man.

'You dance Kizomba?' I asked.

'My favourite.' He said with a smile.

Kizomba is a sensual dance where both sets of hips move together and the man controls the movement of the female by keeping his leg firmly between her thighs.

'I sense you need a strong lead.' He said, pulling me in close enough for my breasts to crush against his chest. He then pushed his thigh between my legs. I opened my legs to accommodate him and as he made eye contact he ground his muscular thigh into my mound. As we moved, he made sure that he didn't lose contact and I could feel the pressure against my clit start to create a seeping arousal. He must have sensed some energy change in me as he smiled and looked direct, those sharp blue eyes searching me. I flushed with some embarrassment, wondering if he somehow knew what was happening in my knickers. As our hips ground together, I became aware of something digging into the top of my thigh. It was very clearly his erect cock and he made a point of grinding it into the top of my hip as he turned and swayed. I focussed on the dance, but with the music, the pressure and his dominating presence, I could feel my body starting to respond. My pussy started to engorge and leak.

'Nice.' He said with a confident smirk. I wasn't sure if he was referring to my dance, or to the affect on my body. Whenever I'm in the presence of a dominant energy, I feel my submissive side naturally bubbling to the surface and I find I clam up verbally.

I ignored him, but his energy shifted and he became more aggressive. He tightened his grip on my hands and pulled me in even closer, his nose now nuzzled in my hair. He sniffed, taking in the scent of my recently washed hair and his mouth was now close to my ear.

'I can sense what you need...' he growled, low and strong in my ear. 'Even if you don't admit it to yourself.'

He stopped any pretence of just dancing and ground his hard cock into my thigh, at the same time sliding his own leg up and down my moistening slit. I tried to pull away and put a little distance between us, but my resistance was met with greater and opposite force. His energy was now dominant and insistent. Like drawing the attention of some deadly predator in it's own environment, I felt suddenly out of my depth and my whole physiology changed. I felt a real fear in the pit of my stomach, but I couldn't help the sexual reaction in my body as the sense of danger grew. There was something primal and raw about his intent; he focussed entirely on me and didn't seem to care what anyone around him thought. I could smell the musky odour from his body, the alcohol and the tobacco on his breath.

My breath quickened and I could feel a sense of panic rising and he could feel my discomfort peaking.

He licked my ear and said, 'You're not denying it, are you?'

As the song ended, I pulled away and turned to find his friends all spectating. He stepped into me from behind and slapped my ass hard with the palm of his hand, then flipped the hem of my skirt at the back, revealing my holdups and knickers.

They all squealed with laughter and applauded their friend's bravado. He smiled and bowed theatrically as I disappeared to the bathroom, stinging with humiliation.

I pulled the cubicle door closed and sat to catch my breath. My heart was beating like crazy and my chest was heaving. I'd felt a real sense of danger in his presence and my body was working to come down. When I lifted my skirt and pulled my knickers down, a long thread of juice connected them with my pussy which dripped and glistened in the light.

'Fuck.' I said under my breath.

When I left the bathroom, he and his friends were nowhere to be seen. I felt a huge sense of relief and slipped my jacket on to leave. It was midnight when I stepped out of the hall into a mild night. I said my goodbyes to the rest of the dancers and headed home, which was only a short walk away. I used the walk to breath deep and calm down. It had been a confusing mix of fear and sexual arousal. Once I was safe at home, I thought, I'd get my vibrator out and bring myself off, god knows I was already prepared.

I closed my front door behind me with some relief and leant against the wall as I slipped off my heels. I padded through to the kitchen in my stockinged feet and slipping my jacket onto the back of the bar stool, flicked the kettle on. I looked onto the garden through the blackened windows and noticed that the window was slightly open.

'No...', I said as I went to close it. 'I'd never...'

Before I got the words out I saw the faces looking at me from the reflection of the windows. Before I could spin around, a strong hand clamped around my mouth and pulled me backwards, breaking my balance. I screamed, but was completely muffled by the rough, calloused hand wrapped hard over my mouth.

'There's my dirty dancer,' he whispered into my ear. 'You think you can act like a slut and not get any comeback?' he sneered. 'Now,' he continued, 'don't make too much noise and you won't get hurt. Ok?'

I let out a gutteral scream and twisted my face to see if I could bite his fingers. At the same time, I twisted and kicked out as hard as I could. He was prepared for the burst of resistance and grabbed me even tighter. I could taste the nicotine on his hard hands and he brought the other up to grip me by the neck. He started to squeeze my windpipe, as a threat to tell me he could crush it if he wanted.

'Fuck, she's a lively one, eh!' He grunted as he wrestled to gain full control of me. 'Boys, here, hold her arms for me.' From behind, a couple of other boys appeared in my peripheral vision, each grabbing an arm. They pulled me upright and opened my arms out to full stretch and I stood, facing my attacker. The tattooed dancer stood in front of me. He was licking one hand where I'd managed to nip his finger with my teeth, but in the other he had a thin bladed knife. I pulled against the constraints of the boys either side of me who each held a wrist in both of their hands. I knew I wouldn't be able to pull away.

I'd read somewhere that if you're attacked, it's important to preserve your energy for when you get a good opportunity to either attack or escape. I stopped struggling against the two men and stood glaring at the gang leader.

He wasn't in any hurry, but stepped forward and inspected me. He looked me up and down, and took me in with a greedy look. He lingered on my feet and legs then took a step forward. He used the knife and lifted the hem of my skirt. His presence was overwhelming and although I felt myself clam up, I managed to stammer, 'What the fuck...? I'll call the police...' knowing that in my current position, this was an empty threat.

He ignored my weak protest.

'Fuck.' He said as he lifted my skirt to my waist. 'Look at that, her knickers are already wet.'

He lifted his gaze and looked at me directly.

'Looks like you enjoyed yourself tonight Miss.' he said with some sarcasm. With that he ran the tip of the knife along the slit of my pussy on the outside of my knickers. I squirmed away, partly to avoid the tip of the blade and partly because the flat of the blade then rested on my clit. He looked up at me and smiled.

'I understand girls like you. Controlled everywhere in your life, when all that you want is some rough fucker like me to wake up your primal instincts. Isn't it?' It wasn't a question and his friends sniggered.

His face crowded mine and he lifted the knife so that I could see the blade. He dragged the end on my bottom lip, forcing my mouth open.

'Such a pretty mouth...' he said, studying closely. 'Stick out your tongue.' He demanded bluntly. I was staring him down and hesitated.

'Tongue.' He barked.

I closed my eyes feeling the shame of my compliance and stuck out my tongue, opening my mouth wide. He used the flat of the blade to push my tongue down at the back of my throat.

'She takes it deep.' He mused. 'Nice.'

He then roughly pushed his thumb in my mouth, forcing it to the back of my throat and making me gag. He pulled his coated thumb out and then sucked it himself.

'Hmmm.' he said, smacking his lips.

Without taking his eyes off my mouth, he motioned to his friends.

'Hold her tight. Let's see what I came for...'

He reached down and took the hem of my skirt in his fist. He jerked it down and roughly pulled it down over my hips to let it pool on the floor at my feet. I gasped at the violent motion and he smiled at the reaction. He pulled my knickers away from my waist then slid the blade of his knife inside. With a sudden upward motion he cut through the lace material and allowed the shredded remains to fall away from my body.

They looked down at my perfectly smooth mound and all muttered a lusty approval. 'Fuck.'

Tattoo man ran his finger tips along the smooth skin and then underneath into my slit.

'Fuck!' He exclaimed as his fingers found the entrance to my pussy. He looked up at me, his eyes full of fire and primal desire.

'Soaking already.'

He ran his calloused fingers firmly along my lips, spreading my juices and crudely poking my entrance. I turned my face away, the humiliation of my body's reaction hot on my face.

He pulled my lips apart, then rammed two fingers hard up inside me. I grunted at the violation desperately trying not to show any reaction. As he continued to finger fuck me, his two companions decided they weren't to be left out. Each took hold of my blouse and with a forceful tug, pulled it apart, sending the buttons pinging across the tiled floor. There were grunts of approval as they exposed my lace bra.

The tattooed man then lifted my whole body up onto the surface of the breakfast bar. His fingers were still buried deeply in my pussy as he heaved me into the air my legs spread. I felt the cold of the marble surface as he landed me heavily. All three were focused on their own administrations now and I felt my bra lifted roughly to expose my breasts. The two assistants either side didn't waste any time and started to hungrily feast on my hardened nipples like a couple of greedy wolves. Tattoo man looked at my determined face, trying to show no emotion, and dropped to his knees.

'No...' I pleaded weakly.

My tormentor sensed the hesitation in my resistance and smiled as he zoomed in on my pussy. His eyes never left mine as he sniffed deliberately. That act was designed to embarrass and humiliate. I had been creaming my knickers all night and perversely hoped that I was starting to smell ripe after the hours of leakage.

'Look, you've had your fun...please just leave me alone now...I promise I won't tell anyone.'

My protestations fell upon deaf ears and I knew from the animal like energy in the room that it was going to take a lot more than my weak refusal to derail this freight train.

Still looking at me, he plunged his face into my pussy. He feasted in a frenzy of slurps and sucking. I could feel the stubble on his chin and upper lip graze my most sensitive areas as he devoured my lips and clit. My senses were completely overwhelmed and despite my mental efforts to avoid it, my body was starting to respond. I have always been a very responsive person; I feel deeply, emotionally and physically. There are times when I wished this was not the case, but when it comes to sexual stimulation, often, in spite of my greatest efforts to not be carried along, my body will engage entirely against my will. The persistent rough sucking of both tits and now the assault on my whole pussy were creating a familiar build up.

The last thing I wanted to do was orgasm while these fucking animals were using my body. I renewed my resistance and pulled violently against the fists holding my wrists hard. I kicked out with my legs, only for my thighs to be clamped tight under the grip of my assailants tattooed hands. His calloused hands snagged and laddered the delicate material of my holdups and he doubled down on his engorgement of my whole vulva. He prised my legs wider as a result and in a shocking and animal-like way attacked my pussy. He shook his head from side to side with gutteral moans and deep growls. I was inwardly screaming at my body to resist, but I could feel the wave of an orgasm start to build. I gritted my teeth hard to swallow down any sound, but my body shuddered and clenched involuntarily as a massive orgasm shook my body.

He lifted his head from between my legs and his eyes were blazing with wild passion. His face was coated in my juices and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Without humour, he said, 'I think she liked it boys.'