Monday, 8 April 2013

Swept Off, Part One

This tale is for a petite young lady who loves rough sex and being dominated. I apologise to the males out there, but as this is for a female who enjoys romance there is a bit of a build up before we get to the fun stuff! She didn't require any interaction so there are no choices along the way, just a journey from one extreme to another...


'I just wish you would have some balls sometimes.' Stella's face was strained. It gave away her frustration. She married too young, too dumb.

'I'm sorry. I just don't see the point of pushing for something that I won't be able to get. I don't want to cause any fuss when it's unnecessary. The man has work to do just like everyone else.' The meek apology of a scared puppy. Why can't he do things without her asking; forcing him? Why does she always need to be the strong one?

'You could have saved us hundreds of dollars! We need that money, Paul!'

'I'm sorry!' is all he can say. She looks at him. She observes his belly bouncing as they drive home and wonders if it would bounce up and hit his face it it weren't for the seat belt straining to hold it down. She looks at his thin arms holding the steering wheel - that should have been the giveaway that he would be weak, that and his small chin. She knows he can feel her looking his way, but he keeps his eyes on the road. What sort of man is too afraid to talk to his wife? She thinks.

Her phone vibrates in her pocket. She takes it out. A message from Gary, a work colleague:

"Hello Stella. I just wanted to tell you that I know you couldn't keep your eyes off me today. You're going to have to give in soon. I'll be waiting, and I know I won't have to wait much longer. XX"

She smiles a little and feels a slight rush of adrenaline. He is definitely chipping away at her defenses. At twenty two, Stella had recently been feeling that she's far too young to be this unsatisfied with life, and the thought of being with a real man is driving her crazy, awakening things inside that will be unimaginably wild when let loose. She feels that it's like living in a small, dreary backyard with one sick little plum tree wilting in the corner, and when she's around Gary, and he's flirting with her relentlessly, she's peaking over the fence to see a green expanse of wild grasses on hills; mighty oaks - thick and tall and full of life, standing at attention, defying the wind; animals running free and happy. There aren't any fat, wimpy creatures - those are eaten by the others!

She's getting close to jumping the fence and going for a run in this new wilderness. She knows she shouldn't, but she's terrified of the alternative: never having known what she knows she is missing. Her loins are dampening at the thought, and the thought is growing, and the more she's thinking of being held down by powerful hands the wetter she is getting and the more she can't stop herself from thinking about it... AAAAGH!!!

'Hon?' Paul inquires.


'Yes?' Smiling, Stella looks up from her phone.

'I asked if you had a good day at work.'

'Oh yes, fine. Nothing out of the ordinary. Getting a bit busy near the end of the month, that's all.' In her mind the tall, handsome man at work is sweeping her off her feet, taking her away from the paperwork. 'And you?'

They arrive home. They carry the shopping in and put it away in the kitchen. Stella prepares dinner, and with each chop of the knife she's picturing Gary's dark brown eyes digging into her soul while his hips slam into hers again and again and again until she's crying with joy. She pours the carrots into a pot then walks briskly past her husband (watching the Price is Right) to the bedroom. She picks up her phone. She looks at the last message. She normally doesn't answer any of these texts in fear that he might be able to convince her. She presses "reply". She checks the door then nervously types:

"What are you doing tonight?"

Her finger hovers over "send". Her mind is racing; it's starting to go numb with all the thoughts that are rushing through, filling it with a thousand parallel universes for each of the scenarios that could play out. Her heart is beating so fast she might have a heart attack.

The brain in her pants takes over. She wants to feel meat between her legs, forcing it's way in. She knows that she could put her husband into a deep sleep with a good meal and some 'good' sex. There would be plenty of time for her to leave and come back - Paul notoriously doesn't wake up for anything, including a burglar and a car that crashed right outside their bedroom window.

Oh god, what am I doing? She looks at the door again. Stares off into the distance. Stands strong; makes a decision; presses "send", then quickly deletes the message and hides the phone in her handbag.
         
***


Gary hasn't replied. Several times during dinner and night-time-TV Stella has gone to check. Still no reply. What is he doing? He’s been hunting me for so long and now he suddenly doesn't say anything?! 

She settles in to watch CSI, and starts to feel relieved as she snuggles up to her Pauly. She really does love him, and feels comfortable with him when they are hanging out together. He apologises some more for not bartering enough with the second hand car they’ll be picking up in the morning. She forgives him. 

She takes his hand during one of the ad breaks and drags him into the bedroom. She pulls his pants down and there is her little man at attention – not much larger than her middle finger, a good size for easily taking it into her mouth. Pushing Paul down onto the bed, she begins to lick and suck, deep throating, she guesses you could say.

Stella stands and slides her jeans down her honey brown legs. She pulls her top up over her head and casually - perfunctorily - removes her bra. The ‘man’ looks up at her gorgeous body with absolute excitement while she looks down and wonders if his stomach will be in the way tonight; it seems to be getting larger and larger!

Climbing on top of the pale, white body, she imagines Gary just to get her own lubrication going a bit, then she eases the small penis inside. She moves her hips back and forth in a small, fast rocking motion. His hands gently cup her breasts. She can sort of feel him trying to squeeze her nipples (there’s no point telling him to do anything harder – she already tried, but it’s his nature to be weak, and she’s now of the opinion that you really can’t change someone’s nature).

Her phone has been uncovered on the bed by the rocking. It catches her eye and she looks a little closer. The screen is glowing. “1 message” Oh my God, did he reply? She hastens her humping to finish him off.

‘I’m cumming. I’m cumming!’ Paul cries out. She leaps off and grabs his dick, rubs it until a white deposit squirts onto her hand and the round gut.

‘Thank you, baby. That was awesome!’ He’s panting and sweating (I did all the work! she thinks).

‘No, thank you,’ she says, walking off to the bathroom.


***

She pretends to sleep. She’s waiting for the snores – they will come very soon. They can’t come soon enough! Who is the message from? What does it say? What if it’s just my mum? Hurry up and sleep!

There they are: the throaty chain sawing is music to her ears tonight! She rips the phone out from under her pillow. It’s from Gary. She opens it:

“Why hello, Stella. Tonight I am just sitting and contemplating the world and all its unfathomable complexities. You are most welcome to join. Come to 23 Stirling St, Hyde Park.”

The final comment makes her stand up. There was no other option than to obey such a simple, straight forward command.  It’s refreshing: a cool wind blowing over her skin after a stinking hot day, or a large draught of fresh water after drinking nothing but too-sweet-cordial for the last four years. 

Using the light from her phone she finds the sexy, black panties and bra that Paul gave her earlier in the year (and has not worn for him yet). She finds a short skirt and a nice top to go with it. She grabs her makeup – that will have to be done in the car mirror. She almost runs out of the front door, carrying her black high heels while softly escaping in bare feet. She’s never been so excited! 

She keeps looking down at the speed limit and wondering why it seems like the car is moving so damn slow! She doesn't know what to expect. She’s only been with one man.

Stella pulls up in front of the address to which the GPS has led her.

‘Number twenty three, yup. Oh god, oh god, oh god. What am I doing?’ She looks at herself in the mirror again - she knows she is pretty; her Indian heritage has blessed her with large, almond eyes - but she just needs to check. She looks down; her top three buttons are undone just enough to show adequate cleavage. She puts on her high heels, steps out of the car and starts walking towards the front door, breathing heavily. The slender, petite figure takes slow purposeful steps; her tight, round behind moves from side to side. She looks up at the house that she knew would be large and impressive, and wonders what else might be large and impressive.

Ding. The doorbell. After about five agonisingly long seconds the inner, wooden door opens and there behind the fly screen door in a black, tailored business suit is a tall, broad man with a huge smile and bright blue eyes and curly brown hair.

‘Hello, Stella. How are you on this fine evening?’

She’s so nervous she can hardly speak, but manages: ‘Hi. I… er…thought… um… I would come around to say… hi.’

He stands there, still behind the screen door. He’s looking at her and smiling but doesn't say anything for what feels like an hour to the exotic, dark-skinned beauty. Her shapely lips move and purse and tighten as she thinks about what else to say. Does she need to say a magic word for him to do something else?! Doesn't he know it’s late at night and she is out in the open showing way too much leg and could be caught at any time doing one of the worst things imaginable?! What was she expecting? To have the door open and to be picked up and taken on a ride of enlightenment on his penis? Stella starts to feel stupid. She contemplates turning and running back to the car in her heels, yelling, 'Sorry, I made a mistake, see you at work tomorrow!'

‘Come in.’ He pushes open the screen to his cave. Again, there is no response possible other than walking inside. His deep, clear voice reminds her of that wizard guy from the Lord of the Rings, who can control people with his magical words. She’s sure that if he said the word “orgasm” she would be a wet puddle of mess on the floor.

Gary places a large hand on the small of her back and guides her into the lounge room. ‘Welcome to my abode. I’m glad you could visit me.’

‘Thank you,’ she says.

‘Have a seat.’ He motions to a large, leather lounge. ‘I've prepared a drink for you. Let me just get it.’ As he walks towards the archway she looks at his back and shoulders. They look like they’re about to bust out of the suit jacket - so broad and strong. But he’s being so… distant, business-like. It feels like they are just about to start signing documents!There’s no way this is leading to sex, or anything! Oh, I’m so stupid! What am I doing here?!

He walks back in with two glasses. ‘I've seen you drinking mojitos. Try my concoction and you won’t be able to drink them anywhere else!’ He hands her the drink, still wearing his winning smile. She takes it and has a sip.

‘Wow, that’s pretty good,’ she exclaims.

‘Thank you. It’s a recipe my father gave me. I've held it a close secret for years so I’m afraid I can’t tell you what’s in it.’ He sits on the same lounge she is on, about a foot away. ‘So what are you doing here?’

Gob smacked. Stella opens her mouth and nothing comes out. What sort of question is that?! She doesn't breathe. She doesn't move. She just looks at him.

‘I… um… well…’ She looks down at her glass. ‘I… wanted to say… hi… and…’ She giggles nervously, unsure of what else to say or do.

‘You've said that already.’ He’s not smiling anymore. What is going on?! ‘You've come here to fuck, haven’t you?’ His voice is low and menacing.

Stella almost chokes on her tongue. This is not really how she imagined any of this. She thought he was going to be Mr Romantic, offering her flowers and chocolates with candles lit and whatnot. ‘Whoa! I… ah… what?’ Her eyes are wide and worried.

‘Well?’

‘Hold on. I never said… I…’ She’s still floundering for what to say.

‘You didn't have to say anything. I can smell it on you. You reek of lust. You need a real man. You did just drive to my house in the middle of the night, didn't you?’

‘Well… yes… but…’ Before she can say anything else he puts his drink down on the coffee table, stands up and walks to the middle of the lounge room. He turns to face her. His hands grip the front of his suit jacket and shirt. He rips down and in an instant they are both shredded and on the carpet. He grabs the front of his pants and does the same to those (including his underwear). Stella is stunned. Her mouth has hit the floor as she looks at the naked Adonis, feet apart and hands on hips. A perfectly chiseled body with a long, thick penis dangling in front of her. It’s about as long as my forearm! And not even up! She can do nothing but sit and stare.

‘Come with me, Stella.’ He holds his hand out to her and she accepts it into her own, unable to look away; unable to refuse.

Oomph! Gary grabs her; brings her in to his body, tighter and harder than she would have liked. His muscles are like smooth rocks. She is slightly winded and just about to say something when suddenly she feels herself launching into the air, like when she’s on one of the scary rides at a theme park. BANG! SMASH! Her eyes are closed. Her stomach is falling to her feet. What’s happening?! She feels herself accelerating upwards.

‘AAAAAGGHH!!!!’ she screams after opening her eyes and seeing the roofs of houses below, shrinking quickly. ‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!!! PUT ME DOWN!!! AAAAAGH!!!!!’

‘Hold on, my dear. I've got you,’ a loud voice rumbles, she feels it in the chest against her back. Hands are gripping her arms brutally tight. It hurts! Something is holding her by the calves and something else is hooked from her butt forward to her stomach. She looks down and it looks like the head of a penis, but it’s large - very large, and there’s no way a dick can hold onto a person, is there?

They are travelling quickly through the sky, still going up but also some direction away from the house - she’s too scared to think of which way. She’s too scared to think of anything! How the hell is she in the sky anyway? Is Gary flying? Did a helicopter drop a rope through his roof and pick them up? She can’t hear any rotors. She can’t turn her head back that far to see what’s carrying them. All she feels is pain in her arms and legs, and absolute terror. It’s too much to take in. She drops from consciousness.



Continue Reading: PART TWO

1 comment:

  1. Well..that escalated quickly lol

    ReplyDelete