Thief in the Night

The night was hot and sticky, almost unbearable, as she wished once again that she had not left her fan behind at her parents' house. Her nightgown clung to her body, reminding her constantly of the overbearing weight of the heat. It also reminded her about how long she had been without sex. Here she was, in her first apartment and on her own after years spent battling parents and overbearing boyfriends, and all she could think about was sex. True, she enjoyed the quiet of her apartment overlooking the river, especially the way the mist rose off of its surface every morning. She didn't appreciate the humidity that came along with it right now, as she tossed and turned in bed. She felt wet and sticky all over. Whether from the heat or arousal, she couldn't begin to guess.

She had lost her virginity on a night like this, in her first boyfriend's dorm room. It was all sweat and out-of-place limbs and awkwardness after a pitifully brief five minutes of foreplay where he pawed at her breasts and gave sloppy wet kisses. She had to help him put on a condom and endure his misguided thrusts, until he came all too rapidly inside of her. He withdrew quickly and promptly fell asleep, spent for the night and unaware that his actions had only awakened, not slaked her lust. The whole thing left her rather cynical about sex, and she was rather relieved when he didn't ask her to do it again.

It was nothing like her fantasies, where her strong, lithe dream lover would slowly, tortuously stimulate every inch of her body, licking and flicking his tongue and making her squirm and arch her back in her need, continuing even after she had begged him to make her cum, make her release that horrible flaming need inside of her.

She lay there, thinking distracted thoughts about sex and desire when she was sure she heard the screen door faintly screech as it opened on its track. She glanced up at what she though was a locked door, but saw nothing unusual. Moonlight streamed in through the screen door and windows, illuminating her lying on the bed.

She had to admit that as much as the idea of a rapist scared her, somewhere inside her it was exciting. Faint, indistinct visions of the scene filled her mind, making her squirm slightly. But knowing the caliber of guys who were into rape, she would rather jump into the river first than have anything to do with them. it was the kind of thing done in dark alleys, dirty and degrading and often leading in death. It was every woman's greatest fear, to be stripped and taken with haste by a huge, filthy hairy cock of some street hobo. Who would ever want a thing like that? She sighed and turned once again on her back, sighing and looking up at the faintly moonlit white ceiling.

The black form took her by surprise. She realized that she was completely, neatly pinned by him. It. Something. One strong hand held her hands over her head while the other ripped off her nightgown and panties. She suddenly could feel that it was a he, based on his gigantic erection pressing against her thigh. While strong, he was not very large, wiry and thin, but weighty. He reeked strongly of desire, and something infinitely wild but not entirely unpleasant. All of this faintly registered in her head as he crushed his mouth upon hers, hot and intense. He started playing with her left breast, tweaking her nipple cruelly and rolling it between his fingers until they unwontedly grew hard. She gasped. This was enough for him to gain access to her mouth with his tongue, which he thrust into her mouth repeatedly. She knew that in only a few minutes he would be doing the same thing to her pussy with his cock. She woke up then, as if from a languid stupor. No, she didn't want this, as good as it felt. She tried to struggle against him, but he simply held her hands tighter and ran his nails down the length of her side, to her knee. She surprised even herself when her hips bucked against his. She couldn't believe this was happening.

She couldn't believe how wet she was. Her thighs were damp with more than the humidity. He seemed very aware of this fact, as her removed his mouth from hers and set to biting and licking her nipples. His hand moved deftly from her thigh to her pussy, which he spread open wide with a thigh. She dully thought she should have stopped him, but instead was caught up in moaning in pleasure. His free hand trailed slowly, teasingly through her pubic hair, slipping a long finger into her dripping slit. He rubbed her clit deftly and hard, making her gasp as small sparks of pleasure exploded in her vision. This was only momentary, as he slipped his finger farther back, arching in the tight depths of her pussy and pushing repeatedly and hard on her g-spot, while his thumb continued his assault on her clit, rubbing in a circular motion that made her clit swell. She thrashed against him as she came, hard, gasping for breath as her eyes rolled up into her head. It was as if a huge bomb of sweetness had exploded in her, making her unable to do nothing but lose herself in the intensity of the feeling.

As she gradually came down from her plateau, she realized that her captor hadn't slackened his pace on either her nipples or her clit, and horrified but incredibly amazed she could feel herself becoming aroused again. She had never been able to do this, even when she brought herself to completion. Maybe it was that she never tried. And this stranger was hell-bent on having her achieve another orgasm, one just as intense. His hips too rocked more forcefully, his kisses along her neck grew fiercer, and his grip on her tightened, his nails faintly digging into her flesh.

Nothing before prepared her for what happened next. He instantly released her arms, but each arm took hold of an ankle, raising them high into the air and revealing her swollen, hot pussy to him. He positioned his cock at the entrance of her pussy and rammed it hard into her, impaling her on the length of him. He took his pleasure forcefully, slamming each time into what she was sure he knew was her g-spot, making her cry out despite herself. It was brutal and it

hurt, but she had never screamed so hard in her life. He thrust on and on, what seemed like forever to her, his cock sliding effortlessly into her pussy and his body pressing her legs into her chest. He occasionally nipped at her neck and breasts, and she found herself giving back every thrust she received.

The feeling hit her like a tidal wave. She saw lights and then darkness, her whole body clenching and then unclenching. She felt him stiffen above her and then release a torrent of seed into her. He lay with her a few seconds, panting, before fleeing silently into the

night. The night's exertions had taken its toll and she slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next morning she woke up very, very sore and rather cold. She looked down to find herself covered by bite and scratch marks, and her thighs damp with cum. It simply couldn't be. It must have been a rapist of some kind, the sick pervert. She would never respond to such treatment. It was barbaric. It was brutal. It was decidedly hot. But she checked all of the windows and doors, finding them all locked from the inside. No one could have been inside her apartment.

She turned to get her glasses off of the nightstand, when a small, elegant sheet of paper caught her eye.

Written in exacting cursive in a style that had lost popularity two hundred years before, the paper had written on it, "I will be back."

********************************

She sighed and paced her room, examining the piece of paper, holding up to the light, smelling it. It definitely was real. But her midnight guest had not come for the past month. She had waited up the next night with baited breath, waiting for what she was sure was going to be a second assault. Near daybreak she relieved her tension herself, conflictingly ashamed and relieved. Every part of her was embarrassed, thinking about it. She knew friends who had legitimately gotten raped, had seen how they suffered, and she felt guilty that it turned her on so much. She was a feminist; she should not have liked having a thing...a man take control of her and use her for his own pleasure. She should have hated him for the scratches, as they stung and slowly healed. Instead she was disappointed every morning when she awoke after a full night's sleep.

Of course she had made no mention of the events of that night to her friends. It was too complicated, too unlikely, too taboo. It was incredibly kinky. Her friends would be shocked and embarrassed at such a debauchery. They noticed the sparkle in her eye, and the rosiness in her cheeks, and inquired who she had laid, who the new man was. She could only play innocent with them, pretending that it was just the nice summer weather.

She paced, sighed and laid down, wishing that her lover was real, that he was not just a figment of her imagination or possibly an intense dream.

She had just fallen into the realm between waking and sleeping when she felt large, strong hands grab her and drag her out of bed onto the floor. She was forced to her knees as one hand held her hands above her, while the other grabbed the back of her head, forcing it forward. She struggled hard as his hot, long dick touched her lips, realizing he meant for her to suck on it. The thought revolted her and she attempted to turn her head. He simply held her hands tighter and held her nose. When she gasped for breath, he rammed his cock into her mouth, forcing her initially to gag as she took him deep into her mouth. She could see little, despise the light of the full moon, and was overwhelmed by that same wild musky odor from before, emanating from the hair at his crotch. It was intoxicating, making her slightly lightheaded as she breathed with her nose. She suddenly realized that she was enjoying this, slurping and sucking his hard dick with wild abandon, feeling it ram into her throat and violate her mouth. She began sucking harder and was rewarded with a groan from him.

In a cloud of self-satisfaction, she did not notice when he withdrew from her and drew her up sharply. He pinned her to his body and began tweaking her nipples and licking delicately, then harder just behind her right ear. She squirmed, which only lead to a long scrape of nails along her side. He played her masterfully, nipping, licking, tweaking and scratching her all over. He played with her pubic hair, first barely touching it, then running his nails up her mound roughly. She squirmed beneath him, begging at first for it to stop, then for him to please fuck her, hard. He disregarded all of her pleas, despite the trickle of wetness she could feel run down her leg. Her hips bucked in arousal and her body writhed as he continued down between her thighs, running a finger in her slit. He played with her clit masterfully, twirling it between his fingers, twisting and tweaking it, while using his other hand to play with her breast. She ground her as into his erection behind her, feeling the heat of it as it rubbed against her crack, inches from her asshole. Her entire body tensed up, tight as a bowstring before something snapped inside of her, making her tremble and spasm.

She was still in a haze when he roughly pushed her up against her dresser, scattering the items on it and forcing her to lean over until her breasts touched the cool wooden surface. This made her feel more vulnerable than before, because she knew exactly what he was going to do. More importantly, she was almost anticipating it. His hand roughly grabbed her neck, shoving her cheek onto the surface of the wood, where she could faintly see him behind her, reflected in the mirror. He was a shadowy figure, a silhouette against the moonlit room, with no discernible features, just a long, lean, muscled body. What surprised her the most was the combination of roughness and tenderness, as he both held on tightly to her neck and gently stroked behind her ear with his fingers, making the hairs on her head raise up. His thighs pressed up against hers, radiating a heat that reflected the burning warmth of his cock against her bottom. He had her neatly pinned, unable to move except for a bit of inconsequential flailing with her arms.

With his free hand, he guided the tip of his cock along the lips of her pussy, briefly stopping at the opening of her anus. She was sure he was going to take her like that and dug into the surface of the dresser with her nails, her eyes squinted shut and preparing for the assault. instead, he guided his cock downward again along her pussy, rubbing it against her clit. She lost herself in the rhythm of it, pressing herself against his cock, especially when he only gently rubbed it against her, teasingly.

Sensing her distraction, he tightened his grip on her neck, grabbed his cock and rammed it suddenly into her pussy. To her embarrassment, it was a low moan and not a cry of protest that escaped from her mouth. This only seemed to excite his lust, as his thrusts became faster and harder, plunging deep into her pussy and causing his balls to flap against her pussy. His nails left long bloody trails down her side although she barely noticed. She had never known anything to feel so good as that fucking. The way he thrust into her, so thick and slick, hitting that elusive g-spot, making her shudder. She was unable to think, unable to do anything more than hold on. She even found herself fighting the orgasm, wanting to savor the moment. She needed this fucking, she needed it so badly. the combination of one last, deep thrust and his cum shooting inside of her was enough to drive her over the edge. She convulsed, her pussy clenching around his cock and her fingers digging into wood and a scream of pleasure stuck in her throat.

She blinked at the sun in her eyes, sat up and realized that she was naked and sprawled out next to her dresser. Exhausted and sore, she dragged herself to bed to sleep for two hours before work.