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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2008.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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Cindy's Night Out
by Fanta_Sis (fanta_sis@hotmail.co.uk)

***

Cindy regrets taking the shortcut home. Well, kind of. 
(MF, nc, rp)

***

"I'm off out to meet the girls honey. I'll be late, so 
don't wait up for me."

It's my regular girls' night out. Second Friday of the 
month, without fail. My husband seems uninterested. 
He's been uninterested for some time now.

"Uh huh."

Typical. 

"Will you need picking up, Cindy?"

"Nah, I'll get a taxi back, thanks anyway."

He's slouched in front of the telly, stuffing crisps in 
his face and scratching himself. I take a breath and 
sigh, before heading out to the bright lights and 
beautiful people. 

***

I'm tired and I'm drunk now. I'm saying goodbye to the 
last of my girls as they get into the latest taxi. I 
reassure them as they get in; I'll be fine, another one 
will be along shortly.

The world spins a little more now, and I feel a little 
sick. I wish there was somewhere to sit down. Nothing 
seems to make sense and I wonder when another taxi will 
be by. Ah well, it's not far. I'll save my cash.

The last track playing in the club is going round and 
round my head as I stomp up the main road towards my 
neighbourhood. Automatically, my feet take me up the 
alleyway that is a slight shortcut to my house. I never 
go up here at night, I ponder as I stumble a little, 
but I can't quite pinpoint why that would be.

Footsteps behind me now. Someone else is taking the 
shortcut. 

Curiosity forces me to turn and see if I know them. I 
see a man, a big man. He's walking a lot quicker than 
me; he's obviously not had quite as good a night as me, 
stumbling every other step!

Oh! It's that guy I was dancing with earlier; he was 
pretty hot in a 'bit of rough' kind of way. I recall 
blurry snapshots of giving him the eye, the dirty 
dancing, the flirting. He seemed disappointed that I 
was married. Even more so, when I told him I would 
never be unfaithful. Then he disappeared once the tears 
started; oh my god, how embarrassing!

I lower my head and walk on, hoping he won't recognise 
me as he passes. His footsteps are close behind me; he 
will be alongside me any second. 

"You're not giving me that much come-on without putting 
out for me, sweetie. Did you really think you can get 
away with being such a cock-tease?"

His voice is a rasping whisper behind my head. He 
sounds angry and I don't know how to react. I just keep 
walking dumbly, head down. 

I make it two steps before his left arm suddenly wraps 
itself around me, pinning my arms to my sides. His 
right hand smothers my mouth. 

"You can't ignore me, slut. I'm gonna get what you 
promised me on that dance floor."

My stomach leaps. Suddenly, I'm filled with terror and 
the world straightens up as I'm shocked sober. I 
wriggle, but he is too strong and holds me completely 
immobilised and helpless. I try to scream, but what 
sound escapes through my nose is quickly stemmed when 
he pinches it shut. 

"Not a sound, bitch. Be good, and this will all be over 
in no time."

My mind now clear, I realise exactly what is going to 
happen. His intentions are crystal. I'm going to be 
raped.

I consider for a second if it would be best to give 
myself to him. But thoughts of my husband and my vows 
give me new strength and hatred for this man. I 
struggle anew as he begins to pull me along the alley, 
towards the gate that leads to the waste ground behind 
the fence. He is so powerful; he hauls me effortlessly, 
backwards, feet dragging. My struggles go unnoticed by 
him as he takes me around the corner and out of sight 
of the alley.

"You make a sound and you'll be sorry."

His hand moves from my mouth and down my neck to my 
little strapless black party top. Hooking his finger 
into the gap made by my cleavage, it is down off my 
tits in one tug. Immediately he begins to roughly rub 
and squeeze at them, pinching at my nipples. 

"Yeah…nice. I could tell you had a good rack."

With that, he pushes his knee into the back of mine and 
I crumple to the floor, face down. He hooks his hand 
under my hip and pulls up, flipping me over like a rag 
doll. I shuffle back on my elbows, away from the huge 
hulk now descending towards me. My escape is short-
lived, though as he grabs my ankles and yanks me back 
to him. A scream barely forms in my mouth before a 
stinging fire erupts on the side of my face as his open 
hand slams down. 

"I said don't even think about making a sound, you 
stupid slut."

I decide to be quiet.

I'd gone all out for the sexy look tonight. I look down 
to survey myself and see my little black top pulled 
down, my tits on display for him like so much 
pornography, my tiny denim skirt rucked up from being 
dragged towards him. I decided on bare legs, so my best 
lacy french knickers are now the last remaining modicum 
of my dignity. 

As I look, he grabs the sides of my underwear and 
roughly yanks them down my legs and off. I clasp my 
knees closed in vain as he forces his knees between 
them and prises them apart. His left hand is holding my 
wrists above my head now, I'm weak, exhausted from 
struggling and, I guess, resigned to my fate. I simply 
turn my head away and close my eyes.

The last thing I see is his right hand moving to the 
fly of his jeans, and the bulge there; that fucking 
massive bulge that I'd not noticed earlier. The image 
is burned in my mind's eye as I stare at the backs of 
my eyelids, listening to him unbutton himself.

I feel him move into position, towards me, pushing my 
thighs apart with his hips as he approaches. I jump 
when I feel his cock nudging my entrance. My husband 
wouldn't be making contact from anywhere near that far 
away! I gulp as I imagine how big it must be. Way 
bigger than anything I've ever had before, I know that 
much.

He doesn't pause. I feel my pussy suddenly stretch 
painfully wide as he lunges into me. I know I'm wet 
already; I always am after a night like this. I'm 
always horny until I can get home and let my 
frustrations out in the bathroom, before going to bed 
all sweet and innocent next to clueless husband. 

The man easily sinks his giant cock straight up my 
pussy. He makes some lewd comment about how much I 
obviously want it, how I'm a slut with a wet pussy all 
ready for his meat. I want to tell him I'm not, I'm 
actually a good girl, a loyal wife, I don't sleep 
around… But I stay quiet. I can still feel the burning 
from the slap I got earlier.

Almost immediately he is pumping me hard, but slow and 
deliberate. He starts playing with my tits; pulling and 
pinching and twisting my nipples as he fucks himself 
slowly but surely towards his orgasm. I find myself 
thinking about how full I feel, how I wish my husband 
could fill me up like this; cock-head pounding my 
cervix, lips stretched wide. I swish he would treat my 
tits like this, too. 

The stranger's huge cockhead angles up slightly now as 
he shifts position to suck and bite at my tits. Now, as 
he pushes in, it rubs deliciously over my g-spot, 
making me squirm slightly. He begins to fuck harder 
now, obviously enjoying his mistreatment of my now 
scarlet, throbbing breasts. I can tell he will cum 
soon; he is puffing in time with his quickening and 
deepening thrusts into me. 

But now I'm in turmoil. My pussy is tingling, aching 
now and clutching at his cock as it penetrates me again 
and again. He is rubbing hard against my pleasure spot 
inside me, pushing me helplessly towards orgasm. 

I can't cum, I won't. My husband would never forgive 
me, cumming like a slut for my rapist. My rapist who is 
not even paying the slightest attention to my pleasure, 
just taking is own from my unwilling hole. How can I be 
enjoying this treatment?

Outwardly, I am quietly enduring my ordeal. Inside I am 
begging these feelings to stop, to quit tormenting me. 
Instead I feel him build up the pace; sense his orgasm 
approaching. This man, this stranger, he is so aroused 
by me he is simply taking what he wants, about to cum 
inside me like I'm some kind of toy. 

His mouth leaves my tits and I sense him looking at me.

"Are you cumming, you horny little slut? Is my big cock 
bringing you off? Ha, ha; look at yourself bitch."

His fingers find my clit and begin to rub insistently 
at it, in time with his last pounding thrusts. With 
that, my pussy clamps down hard on my attacker's cock 
as I explode into orgasm. He simply grunts and 
collapses on me, cock jerking and bucking and spewing 
its load inside of me while my body spasms and twitches 
through a massive climax. 

About thirty seconds pass in total silence, bar our own 
panting breaths. Then he speaks quietly.

"Enjoyed that, didn't you, whore? Cumming all over my 
big cock like that? Next time, don't you play so hard 
to get. Got it?"

He pulls himself up and away and out of me. I watch him 
button himself back up, straighten his clothes and 
stand up straight. He extracts his phone from his 
pocket and with a short flash of light, captures a 
picture of me, legs spread-eagle, tits out and cum 
dribbling. He spies my handbag and picks it up, then 
turns and walks casually away and back down the 
alleyway. 

I simply lie there, stunned and shocked, but most of 
all ashamed at myself. That was perhaps the most 
powerful orgasm I have ever had, and it was with my 
rapist. 

***

The phone is ringing. 

Of course, he won't get it, so I take the couple of 
steps to the phone and pick it up with the cheeriest 
'hello' I could manage. 

These have been a tough few weeks. I decided not to 
tell my husband about anything in the end. I only my 
best friend, who was very supportive and caring and 
helped me through it. But no-one knows everything; no-
one knows my slutty little secret. 

The phone speaks into my ear with a familiar voice, 
bringing a lump to my throat.

"Hello Cindy. I know how much you want to feel my cock 
again bitch, so you will be back in that alley at 
midnight. See you there, slut."

The phone clicks and he's gone. I look across at my 
husband. A sudden rush of deja-vu makes my head spin as 
he sits, scratching and stuffing his face. He looks 
over and raises his eyebrows to ask who it was on the 
phone.

"Wrong number."

End

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 55