Little Things

It was a combination of little things, really. Change any one of those things and the incident would never have happened. I'll start with my brother-in-law, Phil. He was staying with us for a few days while his own house was being restumped. Next there was the fact that my husband, George, was called to work for some sort of emergency that required all hands on deck.

Continuing right along it was a hot mucky day and I'd been doing some gardening and come in all hot, and dirty, and sweaty. Following me in was our brand new puppy, Thor. When I say puppy I don't mean a cute little ball of fluffy fur. I mean a Great Dane puppy that was already bigger than any reasonable dog. I firmly shut the door on him when I went into my bedroom, as I didn't need him there while I changed and had a shower.

Now I hadn't forgotten that the door had a defective latch, but I ignored that little fact as, big as he was, Thor didn't yet have the muscle to force the latch and push the door open.

I stripped and had my shower and was just coming out of the en suite to get dressed when the accident occurred. I heard a yelp from Thor and a startled yell (read that as curse) from Phil and there was a heavy thump on the bedroom door, more than enough to cause the defective latch to pop and let the door swing open.

The door opening like that promptly resulted in Phil being dumped backwards into the bedroom, which generated another curse from him and what I can only call a squeak from me. I sort of made a startled 'eep' sound. Who could blame me? I was naked and there was suddenly a man in my room.

Phil naturally enough heard me squeak and turned his head to look at me. He kept on looking, too, as he slowly rose to his feet. I hastily went to try to cover myself with my hands but he was having none of that.

"No," he said, in a very decisive voice, holding up a finger in a sort of rebuke. I just found myself freezing on the spot, hands by my sides, while Phil looked at me.

Have you ever heard the term that a man gave her a heated look? I now knew exactly what that meant. Heated? His eyes were smouldering and if they'd been any hotter his eyeballs would have burst into flames. I could actually feel his eyes on my skin, the heat from his look transferring to me. I stood there helplessly while my nipples puckered up and my loins seemed to be absorbing all that heat and pooling it deep inside me.

He started moving slowly towards me and I started backing away. Not that I could back very far, as the bed was right behind me. When I decided that he was too close and instinctively moved back just that little bit more I found myself falling backwards onto the bed.

That didn't stop his advance. He just moved closer and his knee pressed between mine, and I found my legs parting as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Just like that he was standing there, almost touching me, with me completely exposed to him.

Not saying anything he just undid his trousers and pushed them down while I lay there and watched, my breathing becoming a trifle strained. He adjusted the position of his cock, brushing it lightly up and down my lips, letting my body accept the fact that it was there. I could practically feel my pudenda swelling, flowering, waiting for him.

He pressed forward and my lips yielded, permitting him entry. All I could do was lie there and stare, watching as his cock slowly entered me. It was odd. Looking back at it I'm fairly sure that if he'd tried to rush things, or grabbed for my breasts, or done anything other than what he did I'd have snapped out of it and told him no in a most decisive way. As it was I just lay there, watching half dreamily as his cock invaded my body.

He slid all the way home, not making a big deal of it, just pushing firmly into me, filling me. Once he was in he started moving in a nice rhythmic motion, sliding back and forth in an almost gentle fashion. That gentleness didn't mean that I wasn't feeling him to the core of my being. I was, I most decidedly was, with each thrust arousing me a little more, igniting my passion and stoking the fires burning in me.

He kept on going like that, just seeming to rock back and forth on his feet, his cock sliding into me, time after time. Don't for one moment think it was all one-sided. I was automatically flexing my hips, pushing to meet him. After a while I closed my eyes, just accepting and relishing what was happening. I was breathing harder now, throaty little cries spilling from me as we moved.

When he finally started moving faster my eyes flared open. I was slightly surprised to find that my legs were now wrapped around his waist, clinging to him. I had no recollection of actually doing that. Not that it mattered at this stage. I could see he was into his end game and I was fine with that. The way I felt I thought that I'd probably climax as soon as he started to really finish off.

He gave a gasp and climaxed, his hips starting to jerk almost frantically as he pumped his seed into me. For my part that was more than enough for me to give a small scream as I had an orgasm and clung to him, milking every last drop from him.

At the end he just quietly left the room and neither of us has ever mentioned the incident again. Still, it makes you think. If I hadn't let Thor follow me into the house, or if Phil hadn't tripped on him, or if George had fixed the door like I asked him to, or even if I'd had a towel wrapped around me when I left the en suite. So many things could have happened that would have stopped things before they even started. Perhaps it was just meant to be.

(Oh, yes. I now have a baby boy. He's the image of his father.)