Stuck

I could hear the excitement building in her voice, and I knew that I was plenty excited. I was hitting her harder than ever, and it wasn't long before I heard her giving frantic little grunting sounds which I new presaged her climax. So I threw everything I had into some hard hitting strokes, letting my own climax flow and she gave this low wailing sound and shuddered beneath me, lying there trembling for a while as aftershocks plagued her.

I pulled her panties back into position and leaned over and whispered to her.

"If you undo your belt, you can pull it free from the hook it's caught on and get out of there," I told her.

I then withdrew and I could hear some pretty savage cursing coming from behind me as she undid her belt and got herself loose. By the time she came charging out of the storeroom I was long gone. I'd decided to get my insulation elsewhere.

- - - Ever been stuck? Oh god, yes. I still get embarrassed every time I think about it. You know, I never have told anyone the full story. What happened is this. . .

I'd arrived home, but when I went to unlock the door I couldn't find my key. It wasn't in my purse or my handbag or any of my pockets. I almost turned my car inside out looking for it.

Obviously my next step was to check all the windows. Naturally they were all locked tight. Fortunately, I have a spare key. Unfortunately, my mother kept it for me and when I rang her she told me she was out and wouldn't be home for an hour or so. Why didn't I just go shopping to fill in the time?

Mainly, because I didn't want to. It was a hot day and I just wanted to go inside, switch on the air conditioner and veg for a while.

That was the point I'd reached when Princess, my cat, came purring up to me. I picked her up and petted her, and she was quite an armful. Holding her was what gave me my bright idea.

Princess was a big cat, and she had this nice big pet door. If she could fit through it I should be able to wriggle through it. I was prepared to swear that Princess was fatter than me. I went and took a look at the pet door.

It was easy to just stick my head through but my shoulders were too wide. However, if I led with an arm, my head would follow and the rest of me should slide right on through.

And it should have worked. I slipped one arm and my head through and I was twisting around to push my other arm through but I couldn't quite do it. Resignedly I started to back out and go shopping.

I couldn't get out. I was stuck. I couldn't go forward and for some reason I couldn't back out. It was ridiculous. I'd slid in easily enough but I couldn't slide back. I was catching on something but damned if I knew what.

So I had taken an inconvenient situation and made it worse. I'd only be there for an hour or so and then my mother would arrive, but she's a blabbermouth. She'd tell dad and my brothers and they'd tell everyone. My brothers would probably put it on Facebook. It was an absolute disaster.

And it was going to get worse. I'd been lying there patiently waiting for about half an hour when I heard footsteps, and I thought relief had arrived. Something had arrived, alright. Trouble.

My first indication of the spot I was in was when a finger goosed me, pressing firmly against the crotch of my panties. That's when it occurred to me that all my wriggling back and forth had probably caused my skirt to ride up, leaving my panties exposed, but that was no excuse for goosing me.

I squealed and humped by bottom up, giving it a wriggle to get away from the probing finger. Then I screamed something at the perverted swine who'd done it. Was still doing it. All my scream did was echo through the empty house. Whoever was fondling me probably didn't even hear it.

Yes, I said fondling. His initial goose had changed to a full-blooded grope of my privates, and I was helpless to stop him. Before it happened, I knew, I just knew, that my panties were coming off. And they did.

I didn't know who was there so I'll call him John. Short for John Doe, the unknown male.

With my panties out of the way John spent what I suppose you could call quality time with my privates. He stroked me. He patted me. He massaged and rubbed and slid his fingers inside me. He did everything he wanted to, bar kissing me there, and it's even possible he did that.

One thing he did do was get me excited. There again, what could you expect. A man is making free of your pussy, teasing and stimulating it, and of course you're going to get turned on. You may not want to be, but it's going to happen.

I thought he might lift up my top and start groping my breasts, and my nipples were already hard, waiting for him. It didn't happen. All his attention was on my pussy, and he was lavishing a lot of attention on it.

John was spending so much time on my pussy that I knew what his final destination was going to be. All I could do was wriggle and squirm as he fingered me, protesting to an empty house. When he shifted his grip to my hips and lifted I knew what to expect.

John hauled my hips up and forced my legs to either side so I finished up sort of kneeling on spread legs, wide open for him. He didn't waste time either. No sooner was I in position than I could feel this cock charging into me, driving in all the way with just a single firm push.

John had spent enough time on my pussy to have my juices flowing freely, so it didn't hurt at all, but I fiercely resented the insult and screamed my head off. Big deal. There was no-one in the house to hear my outrage and if John heard I'm sure he wasn't worried.

Now that he was in me, John still didn't waste any time in working me over. He started pounding my pussy just as hard as he could, and I could feel my hips working overtime, bobbing my bottom in time to his thrusts, trying to meet him as an equal.

Possibly because a) it was rape, b) I couldn't do anything about it and c) I was screaming into an empty house, I just let myself go. I screamed and squealed and yelled and swore while I bounced off his cock as enthusiastically as I could.

It seemed to just go on and on and I let it all come out with terrible screams and groans, squeals and sighs. Geez, it was wonderful. I'd never had such exciting sex before. I'd always been a little repressed up until then, worried about what my partner would think of me.

Worried about what my partner thought? I should worry about what some stray rapist thought of me? Screw him. He'd started this and if he couldn't keep up with me that was his problem, not mine.

I think I must have worried him somewhat. When he started, his hands were holding my hips lightly, just holding them steady while he took his pleasure. Ha! Before I was finished he was hanging onto my hips like grim death, fighting to keep his cock in control of the action.

He rode me all the way to an orgasm, and I came like a steam train. I just exploded and if I'm lucky I crushed his damn cock when my internal muscles clamped down on it to milk it.

After that I sort of slumped down, but I could feel this big smile on my face. John pulled my panties back up and smoothed my skirt down and then he bolted. I could hear his footsteps retreating at speed. It was odd that. If I could hear his footsteps, how much of my squealing and carrying on did he hear?

Who cared? I settled down to wait for my mother. She told me I was an idiot for trying to get through the cat flap, and I just shrugged it off. I didn't mention my unknown visitor.

- - -

I'd had a few the night I got stuck. I'm not saying I was drunk or even tipsy, but I may have been a little judgement impaired.

I got home latish, and found I'd misplaced my key. It happens. Frequently. I have several spare sets. They just happened to be inside the house and mum and dad were away for the weekend.

Still not a problem. The window to my bedroom would be open. It's one of those with a winding handle. All I had to do was stick my hand through the gap, wind it open and climb through. I'd been in and out that way several times, unbeknownst to the parents. It was a squeeze but I could do it.

The first part of the plan went off without a hitch. I cranked the window open as wide as it would go and then hitched myself up and through.

Halfway through, anyway. It had been a couple of years since I'd been in this way and it appeared that I'd grown in several important areas. I just could not wriggle through the window, so I started to back out. That's when I found I had a problem. For some reason I couldn't wriggle back out. I was stuck and I let the world know my frustration.

The world answered. I heard the window opposite mine slide open behind me and the next thing there's a powerful torch shining up my Khyber Pass. And me bent over while wearing a mini skirt and abbreviated briefs.

"You know," drawled this sarcastic voice, "I'd swear that pretty little bottom belongs to Sharon. If that's you Sharon, just kick your legs."

Kick my legs? I did, imagining I was kicking him. He, in case you're interested was Mr Bee, the man next door. I'm not sure what the Bee stands for. I just always referred to him as Mr Bee.

"Assuming you're trying to get in or out and not just a new decoration, are you stuck?"

"Brilliant deduction," I snarled. "Can you come and help me get loose and into the house?"

"Gee," he said, and I could hear the laugh in his voice. "You're showing a lot of tempting flesh there. Aren't you afraid I might ravish you."

Oh, yeah, like he was going to ravish me. My bum was about five feet above the ground. He was Spiderman and going to climb the wall and bonk me?

That's when I made my second mid-judgement of the night.

"Feel free," I said sarcastically, "if you feel your cock is long enough to reach me."

Mr Bee just laughed and said he'd be over.

A couple of minutes later I heard him approaching and then there was this thumping sound and he was standing next to me with that torch still shining on my butt. Mr Bee gave me a friendly pat on the butt, curse him, and finally turned his torch onto the window.

"Not a problem," he said. "I'll just undo the winder and the whole window will swing wide. After you're in you can screw the winder back into position. But first. . ."

He switched his torch back to my bottom and then he slid a finger under my panties crotch and pulled them away from my pussy. I could feel him moving his finger up and down along my panties and then he was settling them back onto me. They felt odd at first, and then I guessed what he'd done. He'd bunched my panties up (not that there was much there to bunch up) and then put them back so they ran alongside my pussy, not covering me in any way whatsoever.

I squealed indignantly.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I demanded.

"Accepting your kind invitation," he said, and it dawned on me that his voice was suddenly coming from above me. What the hell?

What the hell, was right. The next moment I felt his fingers pulling lightly at my pussy lips, spreading them. And pushing into the inviting gap came this big fat cock, eager to make my close acquaintance.

"What the fuck?" I squealed and the swine laughed.

"It appears my cock is long enough," he said. "Isn't that lucky?"

Long enough? It was driving into me and it was already far too long for my peace of mind.

"You're standing on something," I wailed.

"Well, yes," he said, "your wrought iron outside table. Very solid it is, too."

By this time he was well inside me and starting to cut wood, his cock sawing away industriously. Even wedged as I was I could feel myself trying to push to meet him. The whole thing was just so unfair.

"But I didn't mean it," I protested. "I didn't think you could reach me."

"Oh dear," he murmured. "Maybe you shouldn't have offered, in that case. Um, I notice you're not asking me to stop."

I nearly screamed at him, the arrogant swine. Did he think I wanted him to ravish me like this? I mean, his cock was moving like the clappers, and if he wasn't careful he'd have that table over.

He was screwing me, high, wide and handsome, putting some real effort into it. I was starting to think that if he kept this up he'd finish up pushing me through the window and into my room and then he'd miss out and it would serve him right.

Something else was nagging at me. Some comment that I was supposed to be addressing, but it's hard to concentrate when you're being ravished by a horny neighbour with a humongous cock.

I was frantically trying to remember what I was supposed to be remembering while Mr Bee kept driving into me, his cock seeming to get bigger and harder with every stroke. Every time I tried to focus on something Mr Bee came driving into me and all I could think of was 'cock coming'.

And his cock was coming faster and faster. I was wriggling desperately, trying to keep up with it, trying to push myself against it when it entered me, wanting it to keep going and pleasure me. Oh, yes, that's what I was supposed to remember.

I hadn't told him to stop and I was supposed to. And I would. I would. But it could wait a moment.

And wait a moment it did. And then another moment and yet another, while Mr Bee kept plunging into me, driving me mad and driving me wild at the same time.

And then Mr Bee sprayed me internally, absolutely flooding me with hot sperm and I just lost all control, screamed and orgasmed.

My sense slowly seemed to gather around me, and I remember I was trying to tell him to stop, so I did.

"Stop, Mr Bee," I managed to gasp out. "I want you to stop now."

For some reason he just laughed, but I felt him withdrawing and I felt smug. I'd ordered him to stop and he had to and did. A win for me.

I could hear him whistling and noises next to me and turning my head I saw he was unscrewing the winder. A couple more screws and he pulled the window open and I scrambled into the room. Silently he handed me the screwdriver and screws so I could fix the window.

I thanked him and told him he could go now as I'd be able to fix everything. He just nodded, grinned at me and left, and I'm sure he was laughing as he left. Men are strange.