Morgan

**Note to the reader: this is my first story for Literotica, but I’ve already developed a bit of a thing for this character. If you would also like to see more of Morgan, then PLEASE encourage a tentative author (me) with a bit of feedback or some suggestions for future adventures – or even vote for the story.**

It hadn’t been the best of days at the office.

Morgan couldn’t blame Mary-Anne for trying to get her fired. Last month she’d walked in on Morgan getting it doggy-style over the photocopier from a certain courier boy who just happened to be engaged to the bottle-blonde receptionist.

This time the little airhead had gone too far though - she'd caught Mary-Anne fucking with next-week's presentation, and when she'd checked it out there had been a huge chunk missing from it. She'd have to work all weekend to replace the chapter, and she had a date with Matt that would have to be cancelled.

That creep Tony had grabbed her arse twice today – and he definitely wasn’t paying her enough to touch her at all. There wasn’t much she could do about it though.

And to top it all off, the air conditioning had died mid-afternoon, so by the time Morgan got home she was hardly in the best of moods.

The tension and frustration of the day was simmering in her veins, and the result was a sexual heat so strong that she was shivering.

Had the desperate need to relieve her aching not been so blinding, Morgan might have noticed that the curtains were already drawn and the lights on in her home, but she was in too much of a hurry.

Her white satin blouse clung to skin dampened by the humidity of her office, and as she strode purposely through her living room, her small breasts bounced and swayed beneath it. Dark amber nipples pressed against the once-opaque fabric.

She yanked at the zip to her knee-length pencil skirt, and it sank in a pool of green cotton that contrasted with the cream of the hallway carpet.

Morgan flung open her bedroom door, not thinking of the fact she hadn’t closed it that morning, and reached her bed with a moan. The slightly ajar closet door also escaped her attention, despite the contrast to the rest of her carefully arranged spotlessness.

Her breath coming in gasps, Morgan flung herself onto her navy bedspread. She knelt up, and dipped her fingers between her legs. The lace there was so hot and wet that it was darkened. She slipped her hand beneath the white thong, and she moaned as her other hand found her left breast through the damp satin of her blouse.

She brushed her thumb over her nipple, her small tight breast fitting snugly in her hand. She dropped her head back with a slight moan, exposing her creamy white throat, and her long red hair cascaded down her back. Her green eyes were closed in pleasure, her pale pink lips parted.

Morgan let her middle finger slide into her slit, skimming across her swollen bud. Her breath came in hot whimpering gasps as she slowly pressed one, then two fingers into herself. She flicked her clit quickly with the side of her thumb and moved her fingers in excruciatingly slow circles, and a sharp cry escaped her lips.

Morgan dropped back onto the bed and slid her wet thong off. She reached under a pillow for her vibrator, then pushed herself up against the headboard of the four-poster, and brought her parted knees up til they pressed against her breasts.

She pushed the toy into her pussy, and as the vibrations stimulated her opening and her g-spot, she rubbed her clit with her fingers.

David had cased Morgan’s house for three weeks before making a move that Thursday afternoon. Her successful P.R. position meant high disposable income, which was the reason he’d targeted her house, but it also meant she rarely got home before 7pm. Yet here she was, home just before 5pm. He’d heard her coupe pull into the driveway, and hidden in the large walk-in closet out of simple necessity – he was much too well built to cram himself into any of the other cupboards in the house. He certainly hadn’t bargained on the show he was getting now though- not that he was complaining. This was a side of Morgan no man had ever witnessed – her shaven pussy lips wrapped tightly around a dildo, her wet amber folds visible in flashes between her fingers as she drew closer to a frenzied relief.

As Morgan came, her nails bit into her clitoris, and she worked the vibrator savagely in her throbbing cunt. It jerked with each blissful wave, and Morgan thrashed and convulsed, screaming and gasping.

Morgan replaced the vibrator under her pillow, and straightened her legs out. She wriggled down from the headboard and lay on her back with her eyes shut, trying to catch her breath.

When Morgan had first arrived home, David had planned to sit it out in her closet until she provided him with an escape – a quick shower or even a phone call to distract her. But he hadn’t foreseen the huge erection he now had, and common sense lost out. He moved quickly and quietly, taking with him two silk scarves from the closet, and by the time Morgan realised she wasn’t alone, he was on her. He straddled her hips, easily imprisoning slender white legs beneath his ankles, and caught her wrists in his big hands. She started to scream, but he brought both wrists up above her head in one of his hands, and held the other over her mouth.

“Don’t bother,” he said in a low voice. “No-one can hear you – that’s why I chose Thursday. The Carters are at tennis, and Paul Davis is in Singapore on business. It’s just us, so don’t bother.”

She knew he was right – she knew her neighbours’ schedules quite well. The privacy afforded by the big section and the relatively unobtrusive natures of her neighbours had been what sold her on the three-bedroomer, but she suddenly regretted her choice.

He removed his hand from her mouth with a warning look.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she whimpered, strangely over-aware of the cliché of her words – the heroine always pleads against the inevitable.

David ignored her, and began to fasten her left hand to the headboard with one of the scarves. He tied her other hand, then moved backwards to look at her.

Morgan was trying not to look at her attacker. She cursed herself for being so stupid – not even noticing the alarm was disabled when she got in the door. She just hoped he wouldn’t hurt her too badly – not that she could stop him from doing what he was obviously going to.

He began to unbutton her blouse, and she shivered in fear. His fingers were too strong for the flimsy buttons, and after the first one broke, he began to simply tear the delicate garment open. He inhaled sharply at the sight of her high, pert tits and flat white stomach. Moving forward so her legs were again trapped beneath his, he ran his hands slowly up her abdomen until they were cupping her breasts.

“Don’t! Please!?” cried Morgan, but he ignored her still. He bent his head to her cleavage, and licked at the sweat there. Along with the salt, he could smell vanilla bodywash and her soft Givenchy perfume.

He traced his way with his tongue to her left breast, and while his lips and teeth and tongue nipped and sucked that nipple, the thumb and forefinger of his left hand mimicked the rhythmic assault on the other.

Morgan’s body betrayed her. Her dark amber nipples reflexively tightened into hard rosettes at his furious movements, but he kept going until she arched her back with a quick sigh. He moved back with a grin.

“Some part of you wants this,” he said triumphantly. “Some part of you needs this.”

Morgan’s eyes watered in shame, but she couldn’t hide her body’s disloyalty.

“I don’t want this,” she said pleadingly, hoping to appeal to him. “Please stop.”

He laughed, and moved back to take off his plain white singlet.

“I wont do anything you don’t want me to,” he said. “I promise.”

His muscles rippled as he moved himself back from her. Morgan noticed he had a small black design tattooed in the groove of muscle between his hip and the waistband of his jeans, and she mentally filed the detail. He had smooth brown skin, and sun-streaked hair – he probably worked outside, a builder perhaps? He certainly had the body and the calloused hands for it. Much stronger and more masculine than Matt – or any of the guys she’d fucked, for that matter. She realised a knot of excitement was building in her stomach, and she tried to repress it.

David ran his rough hands down her thighs, and grabbed her knees firmly to push them up and apart, dimly aware and appreciative of the flexibility that, despite her resistance, allowed him to open her right up. He was smiling now, and as he dipped his head between her legs, his eyes met hers, and she suddenly didn’t look quite so scared. His tongue met her still-swollen clitoris, and he gave it a quick flick – bringing forth a gasp and a buck of the hips from Morgan. He realised the resistance was gone from beneath his hands – if anything she’d parted her legs further, so he moved his hands to spread her pussy lips. He gently tugged them apart as he began to suck hard on her clit, and he pushed both his thumbs into her still-wet pussy.

Morgan couldn’t help herself. She moaned, and the forbidden excitement welled up in her.

Her moans became cries, and David tasted fresh juices. He moved his thumbs faster, and added a gentle nibbling to his sucking, and Morgan’s hips bucked hard as she came, gushing salty liquid into David’s mouth.

“I want you in me,” breathed Morgan. “I want you to fuck me.”

As she squirmed with the last waves of her orgasm, David quickly kicked his jeans off. His cock was hot and hard, and a dot of moisture glistened on its head. He didn’t think he could last much longer, but it wasn’t in his nature to give in easily.

He pushed down on Morgan’s hips, holding her tightly in place as he positioned himself at her opening. She tried to lift up to receive him, but he’d just begun. He pushed his hips forward slightly, popping just the head in, and let her adjust to his size. She tensed slightly as she realised just how big he was, and he waited for her to relax again before quickly thrusting halfway into her. She tried to pull him further in with her legs, but he withdrew – only to thrust shallowly into her again.

The teasing frustrated Morgan, she wanted him all in her – right then, but he pulled back, and reached up towards her wrists. He quickly released her from her restraints, and although her hands quickly went around him, he was concerned with her legs. He manoeuvred them easily until they were both on his left side, then lifted himself up to roll her onto her stomach beneath him, keeping himself partly inside her.

He put his weight on her tight ass, pressing her clit into the mattress, and began to slowly rock himself deeper into her. He felt himself losing control as her muscles flexed and tightened around him, and he drove harder and harder into her wetness, but it wasn’t until he felt her coming in tight, hot convulsions around him that he let himself go, shooting into her in an orgasm so strong she felt every throb.

When she began to regain her breath, Morgan wriggled out from under his form, and rolled to face the wall. In her satiated doze, she barely registered David’s weight lifting from her bed, or heard him slam the back door on his way out. She smiled – if he ever came back, it wouldn’t be for her big screen TV…