Chapter 2 -- Lynn is caught
How Lynn wound up in this situation is worth noting in Ch. 1.
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"Well, well, well," a thick, brogue English accent bellowed, echoing down the stairs. "What do we have here?"
Lynn was already startled by the interruption, but the brash and loud voice nearly sent her into a state of panic. Lynn said nothing, remaining motionless. She heard a shifting behind her and then silence; soon followed by another invitation of response:
"What's a hot little thing like you doing bent over the rail on the stairs...all by herself...Hmmm?"
Remembering her plan Lynn started, "I've just walked up and am not feeling well. "Think I have the stomach flu," she added, hoping this would be enough to scare off further interaction.
"I'll be off to my room in just a moment. I'm OK, thanks for asking," Lynn mumbled, in her mind the conclusion of the interchange all but certain.
But the man did not go. There was another shifting noise and then a pause. The "interchange," as she was about to find out, was far from over.
The voice continued, "From where I'm sitting you've a funny place for your hands... 'avin the flu and all." The tone was not playful, it was diagnostic.
Lynn was exasperated; she peeked down between the red V formed by the boots. 'Oh my god,' she thought to herself, seeing the chest down image of a large man crouched only inches behind her, centered in the frame of what she couldn't deny were her seductively spread legs. She realized how she must look.
In reality her attire was common in Jersey Land...there were women young and old in tights, tall spike heeled boots, and long jackets all over the place. So this attire could fit in easily...as long as nobody knew there was nothing under the coat, AND you weren't caught frigging yourself over a rail on the stairs.
She could make out the man was wearing a sweat suit. His chiseled body hardly hidden underneath the flexible fabric pulled tightly against his thighs, chest, and crotch. She sighed, unable to disregard the noticeably large bulge there, the only thing stopping her from turning around to see his face.
Lynn also couldn't help but notice the insignia of her favorite Football team on the jacket, Chelsea. She remembered the team was playing exhibition in the North East U.S over the holidays.
'Is it possible?' she thought to herself. 'Is this one of the young players on my favorite team?'
She didn't have much time to ponder this. Without intent her view refocused on her posture, her hand resting between her legs pressing out her translucent hose in bas-relief. The fabric so tight it accentuated the fact her fingers were attending her vulva. Not to mention the oversized coat was hanging low in the front and he undoubtedly was getting an eye full - not just of her sodden spread, but also of her exposed breasts underneath.
Lynn went silent clenching her eyes shut in embarrassment. She wanted to run down the stairs, turn and kick the intruder, flee to her room, anything to be from this place...this horrible and stupid escapade. But before she could get her body to move he was on her.
"'And those are some nice big tits you have hanging there my little lamb," he said as he took the opportunity to stick his arm up the coat and squeeze her breasts, lightly pinching her nipples.
Lynn didn't know what was happening. Her brain was screaming for her to run, but the second the intruder touched her the knot in her stomach screamed for release. The thought that this was a handsome and fit young star she watched on overseas television not helping quell the feeling.
"Ahhhh...cheers little girl," the voice went on, softer now.
"These suck me's are so hard they'll cut diamonds, yah?" he chuckled, squeezing harder now, roughly rubbing with his palms pushing Lynn's breasts into her chest.
Lynn knew she should be saying something to halt this, but she couldn't get the words out of her mouth. She was trying so hard to inject an intervention, knowing the hormone ridden athlete would take her silence and immobility as a green light to continue. And that's just what he did.
With his available hand he pressed on the crotch of her tights, directly over her stilled hand underneath. He lightly pressed her fingers against and into her slit. He rubbed up and down at a slow, deliberate pace. As Lynn realized she had been holding her breath for the last minute, another moan escaped her lips. She started to protest her own vocalization:
"Mmmmm...gasp...it's time for me to go..." but the intruder interrupted,
"I think I know what the problem is miss, I'll have ya fixed up in a jif, yah," he urged definitively as a garage mechanic knowing the easy solve might.
Lynn felt her body slump as she exhaled deeply. Her mind still resisted the thought of what was playing out, but her body sank back to the intense thought of Suzie's story of being used in an alleyway -- then sank deeper. Rushing back seventy thousand days ago; when as a young woman she herself imagined being surprised, ravished...taken.
He grabbed her right wrist and withdrew her hand from its warm mantle. As it was pulled free into the air it chilled quickly, soaked with Lynn's fluids. The stranger pulled her arm up and behind her, making an unseen show of drawing the scent from her palm.
She could feel the wafts of air generated by his deep inhalations. Her hand had to be just in front of his face. In this position Lynn was immobilized and now getting scared.
The stranger began licking her palm and fingers occasionally emanating "mmms," and low growls, obviously pleased with her smell and taste. Lynn battled with the fact this was relaxing her. Enticing her in its way. His acceptance, more accurately his obvious hunger for her, was just what the doctor ordered for the 'lack of desirability' disorder she had been experiencing with her husband.
Satisfied he had captured every drop she held, he pushed her hand up next to her head, placing it on the cold rail and wrapping her fingers around it. Noticing no resistance he encouraged,
"That's perfect little miss...just relax and do as I say and I'm sure you'll find the procedure not entirely unpleasant."
Then he grabbed her hair in a mussed, temporary pony tail and lifted gently, using his left hand to pull her cushioning arm from underneath Lynn's head and placing her other hand on the rail in the same way.
This left the affect of Lynn's throat over the rail between her hands, her legs still spread, her scarlet boots signaling, demanding, to take what lay just above. The only thought making it through her mind at this point was to thank God she had at least worn the hose.
But she was again distracted by the sensation of the boot tops rubbing across her thighs. This half dressed feeling kept the fire in her burning like she was being wantonly ravished in the back seat of a car as a teenager. Part of her wanted this desire extinguished immediately. But the thought of being craved beyond control by a literally perfect young stranger trickled and lingered like sweet molasses, and she felt her senses heightening even more.
He spoke again.
"That's a nice ring, a big rock on your finger. You looking for a little thrill whilst the hubby's off at play are ya?" He asked in a straight tone.
Lynn was shocked, for the first time aware his moving her left hand from under her head revealed her status. And his words...they were the very thought she'd had earlier. But, as the good wife, she had decided to play it out harmlessly and alone as both her husband and friend suggested. She was unable to respond.
The man pressed closer and his tone became slightly amused.
"Simple questions deserve simple answers then, my tawdry MISSSSESSS..." he said with a quiet laugh, drawing out the word that tagged her, further sensationalizing what was happening here.
Lynn couldn't breathe, let alone answer.
"Have it your way then," he said, putting his left hand on the back of her neck and holding it hovering over the rail, her hands equally pinned and grasping it with this simple and light constraint. Lynn could tell this specimen of a man was hardly showing his true strength, yet she may as well have been in a stockade.
With his right hand he lifted the coat such that her ass and pussy were in the open covered only by the sheer hose. Her legs were still spread, nether regions hoisted up by the boots, directly in front of him.
There was no delay, a hard slap stung Lynn's left ass cheek, then her right, and then two more in quick succession on each side. The slaps weren't light and loving. They were sharp and quick and they stung, heating up her backside that had started to cool without cover of the coat.
"Mmmph, mmmph, oh, mmmmph, stop, mmmph" was all she could get out during the series of strikes.
"Right then," came the voice as he softly caressed her fiery buttocks she suddenly realized would be reddened by his infliction.
'Oh fuck,' she thought, 'how am I going to explain this...'
But there was not time for more of that thought train. His hand quickly scooped between her legs where he paused,
"This little married cunt is so wet your stockings are dripping. Such a shame to soil a new set, luv. We'll just have to do something about that," he finished as she felt his hand slide slowly and deliberately upwards through the crevice of her displayed bottom, away from her swelling slit, then removing it altogether. Lynn heard a clicking sound but didn't recognize it.
She opened her eyes and peered down the stairwell, able to see the three flights directly below her. It was silent, vacant...and the hum of the hotel began to lull her again in this brief moment.
"You stay just like that Misses, I've got just the medicine you need for that upset stomach. So hold still, if you let go of that rail before I tell you I'll make that round little ass even redder than it already is. Understand?"
Lynn kept staring down the well, struggling to decipher what this stranger was trying to tell her until,
SMACK SMACK, two more blows directly on her ass. As she recoiled his hand pressed slightly harder on her neck, grasping her hair in the process.
