Brief Encounter

Madeline had long hated taking the tube into the city. The smells. The chaos. The crowded carriages. Everyone's utter disregard of everyone else. It was no way to start a working day. The only way to get through it was to tune it all out; let all sense and emotion sink away and let her mind drift to a happier place. More often then not she thought of her university days, when her high-pay, high-power job in the city was just a dream. Twenty years on, she realised what a fool she'd been back then.

Not that there was anything wrong with her job. She was a senior manager at one of the biggest financial companies in the city. Nice house in the suburbs. Health care. Holidays. Flash car (though the only thing worse than the tube was negotiating the rush hour traffic). She wouldn't give any of it up. She just sometimes longed for a change to the monotony.

Perhaps a young stallion of a husband would help. Her last had been so full of life during those courting years; rushing around as young lovers do, experiencing as much life as they could grab hold of. An exchange of vows and a daughter later and his vigour was gone like so much water down a drain. Where once they enjoyed long-haul trips to foreign lands, they were reduced to weekend excursions to the coast. Where once they'd indulged in spontaneous trysts in wide open fields or secluded alleys, or entire weekends locked in a hotel room or rented cottage, she had to settle for the occasional, missionary humping when his back was up to it.

The divorce couldn't come quick enough.

So now, here she was, forty-seven years old, wedged into a tube carriage, dreaming of all that was and might have been, being felt up by some perverted arsehole amidst a crowd of miserable commuters.

The realisation that there was a hand clutching her backside came on suddenly. Before she had time to react, she felt the hand encircling her hip and moving to the crotch of her trouser-suit. She gasped as the strong, broad fingers pressed firmly; unashamedly finding her slit through the layers of material. She was shocked into silence - panicked and confused - worried less about what was happening than someone else noticing.

She felt the button of her waistband pop open and gripped the handrail tightly in anticipation. She couldn't move anywhere; at least not until the next stop. She was far too embarrassed to draw attention to herself and she couldn't let go of the handrail or her briefcase to slap the intruding hand away.

The fingers slipped under her blouse and she had to choke back a squeak as the rough fingertips touched her bare stomach. Then they moved down, sliding into her knickers.

She couldn't believe she wasn't doing anything to stop this. Her heart raced and her breathing shallowed. Her knees trembled and she was starting to feel light-headed.

She jumped as a finger gently graced her rapidly stiffening clit and stroked down her moistening pussy lips. She gripped the rail tight and swallowed hard as she tried to steady her breathing. She closed her eyes and bit her lip as a finger penetrated her and the man's large thumb started to work her clit. Beads of sweat formed on her brow. Her heart pounded so hard she was sure the sound of her pulse alone would alert the whole carriage.

There was a ringing in her ears. Coloured spots appeared in her blurred vision. Her breaths came as rapidly as her pulse. His finger worked deeper and his thumb rubbed harder and she was sure she was about to scream with the orgasm building inside her.

Then, just as suddenly as the 'attack' had begun, the hand was gone. The train stopped. The carriage doors opened and a swell of bodies shuffled out. She turned to try to catch a glimpse of the man at her back, but he was gone amidst the throng. Her shaking hand let go of the rail and she stealthily reached down to button up her trousers. That was when she found the card he'd left behind. No name. No number. Just an address and a time: 8:30pm.

***

Madeline spent the morning in a daze. Regular office business went on around her, but her mind was still in that carriage on the tube. It wasn't until her lunch hour that she had a real chance to reflect on what happened.

She locked the door to her office, closed the blinds and sat behind her desk, staring blankly at her lunch. She had no appetite. She was still in a state of shock and confusion. She was angry that some stranger had taken advantage of her like that; humiliated that it had happened in such a public place; frustrated that she'd been brought to the brink and denied release, and ashamed at her frustration.

It occurred to her to call the police. She had no idea what the man looked like, but she had a calling card. But then, what if there were several people in the building? How would she know who he was?

Those would have been the logical questions to ask, but all Madeline could think was, 'What does he plan to do to me?'

Since her divorce, Madeline had had a few of lovers. She found she had little trouble attracting men. It wasn't that she looked particularly young for her age; she had simply aged very well. In fact, she was more comfortable with her appearance now than when she was young. The odd crease here and there on her otherwise smooth skin had given her face character, which - despite her sultry eyes and high cheekbones - she'd always considered plain in her youth.

Her body had held up well, too. Her breasts were small, but pert, her arse was round and firm and her legs were relatively long and shapely for her petite frame. All combined with her long dark hair made her the picture of mature elegance.

Her sexual exploits following the divorce hadn't been particularly memorable. At first, with a young daughter at home, Madeline had had to be quiet and stealthy. Later, as Beth had grown up and started sleeping over with friends or going off to babysit younger kids in the neighbourhood, Madeline could let loose a little, but, with the exception of a masked liaison in the copy room at a Christmas fancy-dress party last year, things had been quiet for the past five years.

Madeline glanced at the clock on her desk and was surprised to find she'd been lost in thought for more than half an hour. Even more surprising was the fact that her hand was in her pants, absently stroking her wet pussy.

She removed her hand with a gasp and quickly wiped her fingers with a Kleenex. Her mind was in too much turmoil to make any kind of sense of the day.

Very slowly she reasoned that she wasn't in any way disgusted by what had happened. It was a shock and certainly very wrong, but at the same time, it was something of a thrill in what would have otherwise been just another mundane day.

She took a deep breath, let out a long, cleansing sigh and tossed the card into the trash. By five o'clock, she was sure, she'd have forgotten all about it.

***

"Mum, are you okay?"

Madeline looked up at her daughter and shook herself out of her trance. "I'm sorry, honey, I was miles away. What were you saying?"

Beth smiled and shook her head, dismissively. "I'm off out with the girls tonight... Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Fine. I just had a long day, that's all."

"Alright then. Have a good night, mum."

"You too, honey."

Madeline smiled after her daughter as the front door closed behind her. Beth had just turned nineteen and had a beautiful hourglass figure, her father's richly dark eyes and full lips, with her mother's cheekbones. Madeline was sometimes jealous of her daughter's looks and wished she'd had them at her age, but then she thought of how she'd maintain that body as she approached her fifties.

Madeline sighed and felt herself slipping back into her trance. She hadn't forgotten all about it. All the way home she'd been stealthily eyeing up every man that got on the tube, trying to discern if he had been the one. Of course, she could've been standing right next to him the whole way home and wouldn't have known.

She sighed and took a sip of coffee. She hadn't been able to focus on anything since leaving the office. She'd wandered blindly to the tube station and almost got hit by a cab. She spent ten minutes on the wrong platform and had been so engrossed in trying to find 'him', she'd almost missed her stop. It was now gone seven and she was still in her work clothes.

Against her better judgment, she knew there was only one thing to do.

***

It took less than half an hour to get back to the office. She was both relieved and disappointed to find the bin hadn't been emptied. She fished out the card and stared at it for a long time. The address was only a few blocks away, giving her yet more time to contemplate what she was doing.

A strange man had violated her on the tube this morning and now, here she was about to follow the instructions on the card he left behind. She was giving herself to him. Consenting to whatever he had planned. She knew she was being stupid.

***

And yet, come 8:30, Madeline found herself staring at the rundown old house she'd been invited to.

She swallowed hard, took a deep breath and knocked lightly on the door. It was already unlocked and slowly swung open. Cautiously, she stepped inside. At the end of a dark corridor was a dimly lit room. It looked bare apart from the battered old bed in its centre. She was about to call out when her heart skipped at the sound of the deep, rough voice behind her.

"Don't turn around."

Madeline stood perfectly still and struggled to steady her breathing. The front door closed and she sensed the man step up close to her. A blindfold was lowered in front of her eyes and tied tightly and the card was taken from her quivering hand.

The man placed his large, strong hands on Madeline's shoulders. She was pushed gently into the weathered bedroom and left to stand for a few moments in darkness, with only her breathing for company. Too afraid to speak. Too afraid to move. What had she let herself in for?

The man was again at her back. She flinched slightly at his touched, but steadied herself. He removed her jacket and it was dumped in the floor. He pulled her blouse from her trousers, unbuttoned the waistband and gently stoked her stomach with a rough hand.

Already she could feel she was about to explode. Her underwear was sopping wet. Her pussy cried out for those thick fingers. She'd have begged him, if only she could find her voice.

Fortunately, she didn't have to. His hand slid down her belly, beneath her waistband stroked her moist, quivering slit. He ran his finger up and down, up and down; teasing her to the brink, then forcefully thrust a finger inside and resumed his earlier assault on her clit.

Madeline moaned loudly. One hand clasped his naked thigh; the other went to the arm he wrapped around her shoulders as he pulled her tight. She could feel his huge erection digging into her back.

Her moans grew louder and more ragged. He inserted a second finger and lifter her clean off the ground by her cunt. Within a minute she was screaming and shuddering in his grasp as the most powerful orgasm she'd ever experienced overtook her.

She was lowered to the floor and slumped forward on the bed, already exhausted. All of the tension that had built up inside her throughout the day was released in that one, mind-blowing climax and she already felt she had little left.

Of course, she knew that wouldn't be the end of it. Madeline was pulled to her feet by her hair. How blouse was ripped open, exposing her heaving chest and shuddering stomach. She was shoved roughly back over the bed and her trouser and knickers were yanked down over her thighs, crudely left halfway up her legs. She felt his prick guided to her pussy entrance and dug her fingers into the mattress as his firmly gripped her waist.

Madeline had slept with several men in her life and had enjoyed one or two wild experiences, but never before had she been so relentlessly; so brutally; so degradingly; so excitingly fucked.

Her stranger's long, thick shaft was drilled into her, hard. She cried and screamed and moaned as he built to a steady, almost unbearable pace. She couldn't take much more, and at the same time, she never wanted it to stop.

She could feel a second orgasm build, and he must have sensed it too. His pace slowed, but he thrust all the harder, making Madeline gasp with pain every time she was skewered. He pulled her blouse over her back and twisted it around his hand, pinning back Madeline's arms.

And that's when she felt a third hand on her. Soft and dainty; it stroked her back until coming to the clasp of her bra. The dextrous fingers flicked open the claps with ease, then was gone.

Madeline had only a moment to process the fact there was someone else in the room before her 'lover' slowed almost to a stop, pulled right back 'til his head was at her inner-lips, and thrust forward with all he had, throwing open Madeline's mouth in a silent cry.

Again. And again.

Five times. Six.

On the seventh, Madeline's whole body began to tremble. On the eighth she almost lost all control.

She braced herself for the next, knowing it would be the one to send her into the throws of another orgasm, when the man unexpectedly pulled right out of her. Madeline was shoved forward onto the bed and flipped onto her back. She was still trying to catch her breath when the fat nine-incher entered her gaping mouth and was forced into her throat. The man grabbed the back of her head as she struggled beneath him and fucked her face like her was fucking her cunt. She was almost completely oblivious to the third person stripping away the remnants of her cloths. The man shortened his thrusts as his pace increased. He was grunting and snarling and Madeline felt his cock swell before he came hard, flooding her mouth with hot, salty cum. He barely gave her chance to swallow, before pushing forward again, grinding his hips as if he was making love to her throat.

As everything momentarily slowed down, Madeline gained some perspective on the third person. She felt their gentle hands on her thighs, opening her legs; their soft tongue licking the sweat from her stomach and inner thighs, tasting the slick juices oozing from her burning pussy.

'Oh my god!' Madeline thought as began to squirm under the tongue's assault, 'It's another woman!'

Lesbianism had never appealed to Madeline. She felt no attraction to other women whatsoever. She was turned on by a hairy chest, a rippling stomach and a hard cock. But as the woman's tongue moved to her clit and two slender fingers dipped into her pussy - combined with the swelling member in her mouth - Madeline's resistance was futile. Her body locked tight and she came even harder than before, stripping her of all sense.

When she returned to her senses, Madeline was on her side, with the woman's fingers slowly working her pussy and her soft mouth suckling her breasts. Madeline gave a quivering moan as a man's finger joined his partner's and worked in deep. He removed it, coated in Madeline's sweet juices, and slid it between the firm cheeks of her arse.

Too late Madeline realised what he was about to do and let out a feeble squeak as his finger entered her tight arsehole.

The woman's fingers went from stroking Madeline's pussy to thrusting into her. Slowly at first, but increasing the pressure as the man, in turn, pushed harder.

Madeline didn't know if she could take another orgasm. She'd only had two, but they were both more intense than anything she'd experienced in her whole life. Her body ached. Her pussy burned. Her senses were in complete turmoil. She had to end it soon. She had to say 'no'. So why couldn't she?

The other woman began kissing down her body 'til her lips fell again on Madeline's clit. Only, gone was the gentleness. This assault was hard; sucking and biting and ploughing her fingers as deep as they'd go. All a distraction as the man removed his finger and lined up his big, hard cock.

Madeline's breath caught in her throat and she saw flashes of light in her eyes. Pain like she'd never known. Pleasure like she'd never imagined. Her mind shattered and her body crying out. She was eaten and sodomised 'til she couldn't take any more, then pushed on far beyond her limits; orgasm after orgasm tearing her body apart.

And finally, the welcome release of total blackness.

***

Madeline awoke alone on the bed, still soaked in sweat and covered by a long coat. She looked around the dull room, bleary-eyed; struggling to remember where she was and what had happened.

The realisation dawned quickly and tears welled in her eyes. Whether they were tears of shame, joy or weariness, she honestly didn't know. She'd never experienced anything like that in her entire life: Something so intense; so terrifying; so electrifying! She'd never felt so used and she'd never felt so alive.

She slowly sat up and noticed for the first time the dim light was coming from an open laptop on a chair at the foot of the bed. The image on the monitor was of her, fully clothed and blindfolded, with the large silhouette of a man behind her. 'Oh god,' Madeline thought, 'they filmed the whole thing!'

Hesitantly Madeline hit play on the video and watched in grim fascination as the scene unfolded. Was it really herself she was watching? Could she really have allowed all of those things to happen?

The man was completely naked - and beautiful - but masked, and the woman, for the most part, was behind the camera. But as the man straddled Madeline's face and began thrusting hard into her mouth, the camera was set in position - taking in the whole bed - and the woman moved in to take her turn. She too was beautiful. Full hips, long, shapely legs and large breasts, though she kept her back to the camera. She stripped away Madeline's clothes and crawled between her legs, laying soft kisses as she went.

Remembering all of those sensations, Madeline's hand slipped to her wet pussy. She frigged herself slowly and tenderly as the action had slowed to a languid pace. She watched herself shiver and squirm on screen, her entire body go rigid, then sink back onto the mattress.

The man removed his newly erect cock from Madeline's mouth and for the first time, she got a good look at thing; long, fat and magnificent.

Madeline's breathing became tense. She knew what was about to happen and, almost to her surprise, her excitement grew.

But then came the sudden and shocking revelation. The man and woman casually turned Madeline's limp body on her side and, just before moving to suckle Madeline's breasts, the young woman glanced at the camera.

"Beth?!"

In a ramshackle bedroom in an abandoned old house in the middle of the city, Madeline masturbated furiously over the image of herself sodomised by a complete stranger while her pussy was eaten by her own daughter.

***

Half an hour later, and wearing only her shoes and the long coat, and clutching the laptop to her chest, Madeline journeyed home in a trance. She reached her front door and wasn't the least bit surprised to find her keys in one of the coat's pockets. She laid the laptop on the kitchen table and was about to remove the coat when she froze at the sound of the deep, rough voice behind her.

"Don't turn around."