Tuesday, November 27, 2012

THE DEAD OF NIGHT


There was evil in the air that night, I felt it all around me as I walked home from the mall in the dark.  The fog seemed to creep up on me as I walked in the familiar direction home, a little faster with each step.  The moon behind the clouds gave off an eerie glow making me want to run for shelter.

    I walked past the woods near my home, the wind whistling through the trees, the dead leaves moving along the base of the ground, making footsteps in the breeze.  The cars drove slow on this street, their lights blinding me, their taillights red and eerie, each one making me afraid, making my heart race just a little faster, pounding in my ears.  Then just a I thought I would be safe, could see home, would make it at last a car cam in my direction, slowly.  My heart began to pound in my throat, blocking the air to my lungs.  I wanted to run, but I didn’t want to provoke whoever it was in that car.  As it pulled up beside me I stopped and looked, staring in disbelief.  I should have run right away, but the same curiosity that killed the cat would soon find me dead with him.  I swallowed hard and took a deep breath trying to scream, yet nothing escaped my lips.  Next to me was a hearse!

    He grabbed my arm bending it uncomfortably behind my back, a knife held at my throat.  “Move,” a deep voice said to me.

    I did as he said thinking I was about to die.  It was like a nightmare that I just couldn’t wake up from.  I tried to cry, wanted to, but the tears wouldn’t come.  It was so unreal, so terrifying.  My arm ached behind me and I tripped and fell with the force of his pushing.  He picked me up as if I were a rag doll.  he opened the door and threw me inside.  He followed me in a closed the door behind  him.

    I glanced around trying to get some bearing, some way of escaping, some idea of what to do next.  There was thick, brown, padded carpeting, and red flaming lights.

    “I want to have you,” he whispered. 

    “Please don’t hurt me,” I cried.

    “I have no intention of hurting you,” he said.  “I want other things.”

    He slowly lay his knife down beside him, glaring at me with fire in his eyes.

    “Take off your shirt.”

    “Please don’t,” I said in a whisper, the words not coming any louder.

    I could almost see through his eyes.  They were mad and I knew I had to do as he asked.  I reached the bottom of my sweatshirt and slowly pulled it up over my head, my auburn hair falling in my face.  I shook it back, so that I could see him, watch his next move.  I had to get that knife, somehow.

    My bra covered my full breasts and he watched me reach behind and unsnap it.  I hesitated for only a moment and let it fall to the floor.  A deep sigh escaped his lips as though he was pleased with what he saw.  His hands moved toward them, the full length of his hands touching the side and sliding downward.  His hands to warm, nearly burning me, my nipples leaped to a full erection, and I didn’t want to admit that it felt good.

    He kneaded my breasts in a way that I had never felt before.  My skin began to react to his touch.  This mad man was making me want him as much as he wanted me.  I still had my eye on the knife, yet I wanted him to touch me further.  His hands slowly began to move down my stomach in a almost ticklish way, then back up to my nipple.  I felt my eyes wanting to close, let him do his will on me.  his hands continued to roam.  search, find my willingness to be explored.  He reached down to the zipper on my jeans and I wanted to tell them off, my panties going with them leaving me bare and open for his penetration.  His hands tickled my stomach, my thighs, and back up to my breasts enjoying the feel of the soft tissue underneath the palms of his hands.  He pushed me back ever so gently, making me wonder if there was any kindness in the person at all.  I lay on my back, letting his hands wander over me.  I could feel my pussy getting wet with each second that his skin touched mine.  His fingers finally reached a place between my thighs that only moments ago I had not wanted him to be, but now, I had no obligation.  I pressed against his hand, teasing myself, wanting more.

    “You like that?  I knew you would.”  He said not waiting for an answer.

    His fingers parted the lips and entered playing games with my clitoris, the other hand gently rubbing my breast, my stomach, my thighs, my hips, then back to my breasts.  I squirmed with fear turned delight and anticipation.

    “Touch me,” I signed.  His fingers danced between my legs, the wetness begging to be pleased.

    “Do you want to come?” He said, wickedly. 

    I could only nod my head, breathless, my eyes closed enjoying the sensation.

    “Not yet,”  The deepness in his voice still frightening me, bringing me back to somewhat of a reality.

    He withdrew his fingers from my pussy, squeezing first, pulling my orgasm back a bit.  Then I felt a vibrator against my excited pussy.  I moved harder against it wanting it to make me scream out in joy.  The passing cars were barely noticeable anymore and the knife was only a small thought deep in the back of my mind.

    “Make me come,” I nearly screamed.

    “Now, baby, now,” he said.

    A loud sigh escaped my throat as I shivered and moaned cradling the vibrator.  I rocked my hips up and down against it, not wanting the sensation to stop.  It was the best orgasm I had ever had.

    I calmed down and lay still afraid to open my eyes, not wanting the actuality of the situation to come flooding back to me.  I slowly opened my eyes.  I looked at my captor begging with my eyes for him to release me.

    “Cover up with this,” he said, giving me a blanket.  “I have a surprise for you.  Come with me.”

    I was right.  It wasn’t over yet.  This nightmare was going to keep going until I was dead, or drained.

    I sat in the front seat next to him, watching, staring, wondering.  Every minute seemed like an eternity, every breath my last.

    Only a few minutes later we pulled into a grave yard, my final resting place.  Now I was even more frightened.  I couldn’t let him kill me.  I had to find my way out of this.  Was this the price that I had to pay for going to the mall to meet my friends?

    He parked in the center of this Hell.  “Get out,” he ordered, the knife shining brightly.  I held the blanket tightly around me, waiting for my chance to run.  We walked over to a headstone.

    “Take the blanket off,” he told me.

    “Not here, like this,” I begged.

    “There isn’t even a nightwatchmen her,” he assured me.

    “That’s what I’m afraid of,” I replied.  I took the blanket off and held it against me modestly.

    “Lay the blanket out right here,” he assured.

    I lay it down standing naked before him.

    “Your beautiful,” he said.  he set the knife down on the tombstone and reached for his ski-mask.  he took it off, revealing...my boyfriend, Gary.

    I took a deep breath, a sigh of relief, a tear running down each cheek.  “Gary!  How could you do that to me?  I thought that I was going to die.”

    “Yeah, it was great, wasn’t it?  You sure did enjoy it though.”

    His lips reached for mine, pressing hard, shutting me up, his hands wandering over the very parts that he had explored only a few moments before.  I no longer cared that we were in the center of a cemetery, that I had been scared worse than I ever thought or wanted to be afraid.

    I pushed my body up against his, feeling ever curve and bulge.  I wanted hi, now, here in this place of peace.

    “It’s my turn,” Gary said.  “Make me feel good.”

    “Absolutely,” I reached for his pants, unzipping madly, letting his cock out to rest in the palms of my hands, both wrapped tightly around the shaft massaging it, rubbing up and down.  It slid away from my hands as he lowered his lips to my breasts, teasing each nipple with quick flicks of his tongue.  I leaned up against the tombstone, letting his lips drift lower to my stomach, my hips, my thighs, and up to my pussy.  I spread my legs as wide as I could letting him invade my waiting wetness with his soft tongue, dashing from side to side of my clitoris.  I wanted to shudder in orgasm, but he licked his way back up my stomach, my ribs, my breasts one at a time, my mouth.  I reached between his strong, muscular thighs reaching for his hardness, wanting to feel his powerful shaft between my lips.  I lowered myself to take it into my mouth, my tongue circling the head.  I moved my mouth down the shaft, fucking my mouth, in, out, in, out, then backing off slightly.  I reached between my own legs rubbing my clit, teasing myself, wanting to get off, wanting to come, yet not wanting this to end.

    Gary gently urged my hand from my pussy, standing me up, leaning me against the tombstone, ending me over stomach first.  I felt his hard cock push behind me, pressing inside me.  I pushed up against him.

    “Deeper,” I called.

    Gary moved in, out, in, out, a rhythm, a beat of a heart.  He reached in front of me, his hand against my pussy, his fingers dancing inside.  I held on tight to the grave, afraid to lose my balance.  Quick and hard, he fucked me.

    Then just as I was about to come, he relaxed himself from my warmth, me around and laid me on the blanket.

    “Fuck me,” I said.  “Let me finish, let me come.”

    Gary raised my legs on his shoulders and entered me getting the most from each thrust deep inside me.  I reached between my legs moving my fingers around and around.  I screamed in happy orgasm, my body shivering, feeling this last thrust, his own spasms letting loose inside me.

    We lay breathless for a few moments afterward.  It had been the most exciting, enjoyable sex I had ever had.  I knew that I would never forget this, and I also knew that it wouldn’t be the last time for such an adventures.

   


1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I would have thought you would have dedicated this story to me. Just the thought of that ginger pussy makes me hard.


Gary