She walked through the door, tossed her bag against the wall, hung up her purse and her coat and began getting wound down from her long shift. She could handle 12-hour shifts, but she put in an extra two hours this evening due to a late coworker. The house was empty and dark, but inviting. No one would be home tonight, her husband at his bowling league, her daughters at a girl scouts sleep-over and her son staying with a friend for the weekend. All she wanted to do was take a long, hot bath, letting the steam wash away the stress of the day. Grabbing a glass of white zinfindel as she walked through the kitchen, she went up to draw her bath. She emptied the pockets of her scrubs into her top drawer of her dresser. Her watch and jewelry were placed neatly in her jewelry box. She put her shoes away in the closet, then pulled out a sheer nightie and laid it out on the bed. In the bathroom, she put her hair up, pulled her clothes off and slowly slid her tired, aching body in the hot water. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she sank deeper into the water, losing herself in deep relaxation. Sipping her wine, she put work out of her mind. No kids tonight, hubby nice and buzzed when he got home from the bowling alley. Maybe some romance was due.
Her mind wandered to the possibilities ahead. She would get scrubbed clean, smoothly shave everything, and be waiting for him. He would walk through the door, she would be lying on the couch, legs draped sexily over the edge. His breath would be taken away as he slowly took in her body, her perfectly manicured toes; smooth, tanned legs; sheer, sexy nightgown, wondering what was underneath. She could almost feel his hands moving along her curves, teasing her nipples through the fabric as he kissed her deeply. She let out a long sigh, took another sip of wine and began getting her body ready for the night ahead.
She let the water drain out of the tub, toweled off and began rubbing some perfumed lotion on her body. Her mind was off in another world, she didn't notice that there was a shadowy figure behind her. She knocked the lotion bottle onto the floor and as she bent down to pick it up, rough arms wrapped around her and pulled her into the dark bedroom. One hand over her mouth, the other holding her so tight her ribs hurt, she couldn't let out a loud enough scream. He spoke gruffly in her ear, "Don't scream, or I will kill you".
The moonlight shone in, giving just enough light for him to view her body. He could see the fear in her eyes and it excited him. His cock rose in his pants and he rubbed against her. She closed her eyes tightly, a single tear escaping. This made him even hotter for her. He didn't want to leave evidence behind, but he had to feel her body. He took off his gloves and began running his fingers over her nipples. They got hard and he laughed. "You're getting turned on, aren't you?"
She shook her head, embarrassed that her body would react that way. She tried to think about something, anything, that would make her body shut down against this assault. But it wasn't working. Every touch sent electric jolts throughout her body. She cried, not wanting to feel anything. She was a married woman, this was a stranger who was violating her, this couldn't be happening.
"Don't fight it, baby. You know you want it. I promise I won't hurt you...too bad."
He unbuckled and unzipped his pants, his long hard cock popping out. He placed it against her wet pussy, teasing her, getting her wetter and wetter. He laughed harder at that, knowing that he was raping her and that she liked it, but didn't want to. "Tell me you want me to fuck you," he whispered in her ear.
She shook her head and he slapped her hard. "I said, 'tell me you want me to fuck you'".
Her voice quivering, "I want you to fuck me."
"Louder."
