Maryellen was attacked by an intruder when she opened her hotel room door, thinking it was her son escorting her to dinner.
The assailant cupped his hand over her mouth and held a hunting knife to her throat.
"Make a sound, and you're dead," he menaced.
She nodded her head.
"Saw you in the lobby a couple times yesterday and today. Thought we could party," he whispered in the ear as she pulled at her restraints.
A foot taller than his captive, the man eyed the front and back of the 45-year-old beauty. Short, brown hair and brown eyes, athletic, with muscular shoulders, arms and back, she looked far younger than her years. Her body was accentuated by the low-cut, revealing, sleeveless white dress she was wearing for her "date" with her 20-year-old son, a college sophomore she was visiting for the weekend.
"Damn girl...you're fine," he sneered, as he stared down at her considerable cleveage. "This is going to be more fun than I thought."
He pulled those muscular arms behind her, her biceps and triceps were chiseled. "Mmmmm...you're ripped, girl," he muttered as squeezed her left bicep, careful to show her the knife as he did.
Her wrists secured, he ordered her on the floor. She complied, wondering if she were to be raped, why not on the bed? As she laid face-down, her dress blew up slightly, uncovering her panty hose.
"Damn, girl...panty hose? My Momma wears panty hose. You old as her?" He laughed. "Tell you what, take off that fine dress, leave those panty hose on. Reminds me of Momma. When I did her last week, she was wearing them."
Maryellen's blood ran cold. She thought: "My God, he raped his own mother! What kind of "party" does he plan for me?"
He continued: "I sat on her, she fought pretty hard this time. Squeezed most of her air out. While she caught her breath, I jumped off her, pulled the panty hose down a little, and, you know, ( he grunted as he simulated anal intercourse) "My Momma's fine, too"
Maryellen's heart was pounding. "Where was her son Wade?" Thank God he had his own key card to her room.
"I can't take my dress off with my hands tied," she reminded her attacker. He bent down and untied the knot.
She rubbed her wrists. "My son's picking me up here anytime. Ever heard of jiu-jitsu? He's pretty good."
"Whatever, Momma," He responded, sarcastically. "I've been watching you for two days, never seen nobody with you. All I know, dressed liked that, you could be a hooker working here."
"He's in college here...never mind" she laughed as she took off her dress and laid it on the chair. "Now, what?"
Her breasts were amazingly firm for her age. The dress didn't need a bra, and it was obvious Maryellen didn't either.
"Daayymm!!" The attacker exclaimed.
"Momma, you finer than I thought! Look at you! I oughta do 'ya right here on the floor, but this is a fancy place and that bed looks real comfortable. Let's go over there."
She got on all fours to stand.
"No, Momma...crawl over there. Ima watch you," he said with anticipation.
Maryellen stared at him: "Seriously?"
"Go on now," he demanded. "I'm ready to go," he added, as he rubbed his crotch.
She was about six feet from her bed as Maryellen began crawling. With her muscular, cut physique, she moved more like she was stalking prey than about to be raped.
"This boy hit the lottery today," he giggled as he watched her move. "My Momma's got a bigger booty, and a bigger rack, but she don't look like that when she's crawling for me. Shoot...she can hardly carry me more than a few steps when I ride her."
"Your poor mother," Maryellen began as she arrived at the bed. "You should be ashamed."
"Don't you say nuthin' 'bout my Momma," he warned, brandishing the knife from his waist band. "Now stand up."
Maryellen wondered if she misspoke as she raised up.
"Give me your hands," he demanded.
She crossed her hands behind her. He pulled some clothesline cord from his back pocket. "Don't move," he grumbled,
"Ima gonna tie you up tight."
"Like your Momma?" Maryellen winced as the words left her full, pillowy lips.
"Don't talk about my Momma, bitch...I done told you once!" he thundered, as he held the knife against her supple neck. "I don't mind raping a dead woman!"
"OK", she stammered.
He quickly tied her wrists, and cut the line. Then he wrapped the line several times around her upper body, framing her large breasts with line above and below them. Then around her neck and tied it off in the middle of her back.
"My God," Maryellen thought. "He's done this before...to her" referring to his mother.
"Down on the bed," he ordered.
Before she could respond, he shoved her in the middle of the back. Down she crashed, face-first, onto the bed. She figured that was her fault, for talking about his mother.
He pulled down his pants, but didn't remove them. Because of that, he clumsily climbed onto Maryellen and had to adjust for the 8-inch height difference. Because of his limited mobility, almost comically, he rolled back and forth on Maryellen. But he was serious. She felt his enormous erection; first against her rump, then her lower back, then back and forth against her body. But the knife was in his pocket, now around his ankles.
"That feels good, Momma," he said as he finally stopped moving on her. His cock was pressing against her butt cheeks. She felt like it could tear through her panty.
But he tarried, enjoying his conquest of this sensational body. He squeezed each of her biceps. "How much you lift, Momma?"
Her spirits lifted by this time-buy opportunity, she responded, "I can lift my weight...how much you lift?"
"How much is that?" he responded, idiotically.
"Not supposed to ask a woman that question" she replied. How much you lift?" she repeated.
"Bet Momma can't lift her weight," he averred. "Not very strong no more."
Maryellen grimaced at the track the conversation was heading. "Where's Wade?" she kept asking herself.
"She used to fight back pretty good...guess I got bigger and stronger, he said, almost lamenting when his mother could effectively defend herself.
"She's still pretty tough. She just doesn't last as long if I'm holding her down or squeezing her real hard. She gives up faster nowadays. But her booty is still fine, her hooters are a lot bigger than yours, her lips are big and soft, and...her pussy still gets wet with me."
Maryellen would have wretched if 200 pounds weren't pressing down on her.
"You never did tell me how much you can lift...more than me?" She challenged.
"Don't wanna talk about Momma or me no more...I want you, Muscles," he whispered in her ear. "Let's get to it."
He squeezed her biceps again and again, and began kissing her back and shoulders. "You sure smell good, Momma...taste good, too...what is that?...Ima get me some...to remember you."
Maryellen, still buying time, listed the brands she's used recently and pretended she couldn't recall what she had just used on herself.
"That's all for rich folks like you," he complained. "We still use stuff we buy at the store...good enough for us."
Then he seemed to figure out her ruse.
"Hey...we're wasting time with this...no more talikn!"
Maryellen felt his cock was getting bigger and harder. "Wade?"
"Damn...I wanted to sit on you the way I sit on Momma, to see if you could last longer, but my pants is still on. Can't get 'em over my shoes," he discovered, forgetting he could simply pull down his captive's panty, and tear her rectum or vagina to pieces with his enormous, rock-hard erection. "Ima fix that."
