WARNING!  This file contains sexually explicit material. If you are underage,
or do not wish to read, you have been warned.

This work is copyrighted to the author © 2003.  Please don't remove the author
information or make any changes to this story.

==============================================================================

We get married and start off on our honeymoon. Too bad I had a little
too much to drink.

MF, rape

==============================================================================

                    The Limo Ride
                    by InnerStrength


"Wow. it is finally over."

"Yeah."

You just got married. The ceremony was in a huge church, covered with
flowers. Everybody you knew was there. Afterwards, you went to the reception,
and danced and drank.

"What time is the flight?"

"Ten tomorrow, I think."

You are in a limo. The flight to Mexico leaves tomorrow, so the limo is taking
you to a hotel near the airport. Your parents booked the honeymoon suite for
you.

You are in your wedding dress. It is white and strapless. You spent months
looking for just the right one. You had your hair and makeup done. He is in a
tux. He hates dressing up, so you never get to see him looking this good.

"Let's fool around."

You look around the limo. It looks like it would seat eight or ten. There is a
bar. There is enough room on the floor to lie down comfortably. The seats are
all leather; you can smell it. There is a door to the front that is open.

For a minute you are tempted.

"No. Let's wait for the hotel."

"Come on. How many times will we get a limo like this? We can even open the
skylight."

"I want the first time to be special."

"It wouldn't be special here?"

"Not so loud. The driver will hear you. You just have to wait."

The driver is a well mannered man in a formal uniform with a silly hat. He
held the door for you when you got in the limo and asked if you wanted
anything to drink. When you said no, he shut the door, and went to the front.

"I think I'll have a drink after all."

"Don't have too much."

"Relax. The airport is hours away. I'll be fine tonight."

You are both tired. Getting a wedding ready is a lot of work. So you just sit
and enjoy the ride without talking much. He is on his third drink. You don't
want to say anything, but you are getting a little worried, especially after
all he had to drink at the party. But he isn't acting rude or out of control.

"How much longer do we have? ... Honey? Are you alright?"

"I'm OK. Just let me sleep."

Shortly you can hear him snoring. The idiot has passed out. You call out to
the front.

"How soon will we get there?"

"About forty five minutes unless there is traffic, ma'am."

You have nothing to do but look out the tinted windows at the flat country
going by. Soon, you see the car exit the freeway.

"Are we there already?"

"The radio says there is an accident. I'm taking a shortcut to go around it."

You ride along the side road for about ten minutes, and then you turn onto a
dirt road.

"Are you sure this is the right way?"

"Relax, I've been here dozens of times."

The door locks click shut.

"Why did you lock the doors?"

"I don't know who is around here. You can't be too careful."

"I want to go back to the highway."

"Alright. Let me find a spot turn around."

Ten more minutes.

"Haven't you found a spot yet?"

"This is a big car. Wait. Here is a clearing up here."

The big car slowly pulls to a stop. The driver turns off the engine and gets
out. You try your door. It is still locked. Then it opens.

"We need to stop for a bit."

"Why? What is wrong."

"You sure look pretty in that dress."

"Thanks, but why are we stopping? I want to know right now."

"I think you know already."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna have a little married pussy."

"Get out of here! Right now! And take us to the nearest town."

You start to shake your husband. His head flops to one side.

"I'll get out of here as soon as I'm finished."

"Leave before my husband wake up."

"That drunk cracker? He'll be passed out for hours. Even awake he couldn't
stop me."

The driver steps into the back, and locks the door behind him. You slide along
the seat to the front of the limo, so you are as far away from him as
possible.

"Now show me what those big old titties look like."

"Leave me alone, you pig."

He takes his hat off, and sets it on your husband's head.

"If you won't help, I'll have to do it myself."

He reaches out toward the top of your dress. You slap at his hand and kick at
his waist.

"Ow, bitch. We can do this easy or we can do it rough. It is your choice."

His right hand darts out and hits your throat. You feel his fingers wrapping
around as he drives your head backward into the side of the limo. His left
hand reaches up and starts groping at you through your dress.

His fingers hurt. You can't breathe well.

"Do I rip the dress, or do you pull it down?"

You try to talk, but can't. He relaxes his grip a little.

"Please don't hurt me, I'll do what you want."

You reach behind and unzip your dress. It is an awkward angle, but there is no
way you are going to ask for help. The dress comes down, and you are wearing a
strapless bra. It is firm, but he can see the outline of your nipples through
it.

"Very nice."

He reaches out one hand, and then the next, and fondles you. Then he takes one
and slips it in through the top of the bra. You feel his warm hand on your
breast.

"This is too hard. Take the bra off."

You do. He grabs it and tosses it. Now he is rubbing both breasts, and
pinching your nipples. He is rolling them in his hands trying to make them
hard. When he bends over to take one in his mouth, it is too much for you. You
start to cry.

"Don't cry, sweetheart. I'll be gentle. Is this bothering you?"

"Yes."

"OK. I'll stop. Let's look under the skirt instead."

He reaches down and grabs the hem of your dress.

"No!"

You swing at his head with all your strength. Your braless tits flop from the
movement, and you manage to hit him square on the side of the head. He has a
trickle of blood on the side of his mouth. He wipes it away.

You cover your chest with your hands and crouch back into the corner, waiting
for his response. But he doesn't touch you. He moves a little away, makes a
fist, and smashes it right into your husband's face.

Now you see his blood, and the nose might be broken. He moves a little in his
sleep, but doesn't wake. He just turns over. He must have had more than you
thought.

"Do you want to be a widow!"

"No."

"Do you want me to hurt him more?"

"No."

"The next time you touch me, he gets it worse. Understand?"

"Yes."

Now the tears are coming easily, and your makeup is smeared. There are large
dark circles around your eyes from running mascara.

He reaches again for the skirt This time you let him. He pulls the dress up,
but you have turned your head and shut your eyes. You can't even tell how
exposed you are.

Your arms are still covering your breasts, pulling them into you.

"What a beautiful cunt. Is it tight? Are you a virgin?"

...

"I said, are you a virgin?"

"No."

He rubs his hand back and forth on your mound.

"I'm ready. Let's get these panties off."

He reaches with both hands, and pulls the panties down to your knees, which
pulls your legs together. Then he keeps pulling down. to your ankles. He pulls
them free of one ankle, but leaves them hanging from the other.

He grabs one leg, and puts it up on the seat. Your pussy is now open and
exposed. Your foot is resting on your new husband. You move it a little so at
least you aren't touching him.

The driver takes the back of his hand, and smacks your husband's face,
swinging it to the side.

"Why did you do that?"

"I put your leg there, whore. I told you to cooperate or he gets it. Are you
gonna relax and enjoy this?"

You stay quiet.

"I said - are you going to relax and enjoy this?"

"Y-yes."

"Good."

He rams his finger into your pussy. You jump. You hold your breath and wait,
but it doesn't look like you bothered him. He spends a few minutes fumbling
with his fingers back and forth. You try to pretend you are somewhere else.

Then he stands.

"Are you ready?"

...

"I'm getting tired of asking you twice. Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"For what?"

"You."

"For me to what, bitch?"

"I'm ready for you to have sex with me."

"Sex?"

He undoes his belt.

"We're going to fuck. Say it."

"We're going to fuck."

He drops his pants. As he starts to pull his underwear pulls down, you see the
tip of his cock. Then it flops forward and the underwear is pulled free.

"Ask for it."

"Please give it to me."

"Give what to you?"

"Your penis?"

"Penis? It is a dick, bitch. Ask again."

"Please give me your dick."

"Well, I can't keep a lady waiting, can I?"

You are still on your back, in your wedding dress. Your bra is on the
floor. One leg is on the floor with your panties hanging on it, and one is up
on the seat. Your hands are clasped across your chest.

With one hand, he rubs up and down on your pussy, and spreads the lips
apart. With the other he guides his dick in. Now he is fucking you.

He grabs your wrists in his hands and yanks them out to the sides. Now your
tits are exposed. There are flopping back and forth as he pumps into you. He
bends down and sucks on one while he rapes you.

After what seems like forever, he pulls up and straightens out. You feel him
push into you, and his back goes straight. His hands on your wrists tighten,
and he starts to shake as he comes. One, two, three, four times he pumps his
sperm into you.

Then he rests.

After a minute or two, he starts to get soft, and pull out of you. There is
semen leaking onto your dress.

He stands up and pulls his pants back on. It is over.

He walks over an opens the door.

"Get out."

He grabs your husband and starts pulling him.

"What do you mean?"

"I said get out. This is your stop."

He takes you husband out and puts him on the ground. He grabs your bra and
your panties and throws them out. You pull your dress back up over your
breasts and stand. You feel come leaking down your leg.

"You can't just leave us here."

He doesn't even answer. He grabs your arm and yanks you out of the car, then
shuts the door. You go over to check your husband as the driver gets into the
car and pulls away.