Patience, they say, is a virtue. Whether it is still a virtue when it aids the “unvirtuous” is not made clear. Virtue or not it is certainly useful- and any would-be rapist has to have his fair measure of it. So it was on this occasion.
The beach was simple and undeveloped, just a car park (free to use) and the dunes behind. If you want the amusements, loos and cafes you go elsewhere. Of course you also get the kids and the noise so people who come to this beach do so because it’s quiet - and so do I. Today there were just three cars in the car park and I had expected an uneventful day catching some rays. But I had seen this girl going down to the sands. She was wearing a tee shirt with a narrow hoop design. She had immediately caught my attention because of the way the fabric was stretched over her breasts. The hoops followed every curve, emphasizing the soft swell of the tissue beneath. Although her breasts were completely covered, the distortion of the pattern around the swelling curves simply emphasized their shape like contour lines on an OS map. It was clear there were some substantial peaks hidden beneath and a deep precipitous valley between. The fabric was tight and movement within was obviously restricted, but as I watched she bent to place her towel and settle on the beach with her friends. Her breasts swung forward as she did so and I could imagine clearly how their weight would feel in my hands. I knew I would have to try for this one.
I settled inconspicuously 50 yards behind them. It was quiet- only three other groups so getting too close would have looked odd. I had judged it right; they didn’t even glance at me. She was with a party of 3 or 4 other girls, all pretty but none to match this vision. I simply had to wait- to bide my time and hope I could get her on her own and somewhere more suitable for my needs. I knew that might, or might not get a chance to scale those peaks, but the suspense was half the thrill; and patience, as I have said, is a virtue.
The girls sunbathed- my target sat up, reached behind her and pulled the hooped tee-shirt over her head. Her breasts were thrown into full relief as she did so. The fabric caught momentarily beneath them as it was raised and then pulled free, the effect being to make them bounce slightly in their bikini top cradle. I don’t think anyone else noticed, but I catch these details. I stored this evidence, those boobs were taught and firm and would suit me well… If only that is I could get her alone.
My chance came about an hour later, the girls were dozing in the sun and my target started to get up. Was she leaving? Going for walk? A pee? She left most of her things on the beach, taking only her purse, so she wasn’t leaving. I rose as inconspicuously as I could and gathered all my stuff, it wasn’t much, but either way I wouldn’t be coming back.
I followed her discretely as she headed into the dunes; so she wasn’t heading towards the car. I guessed the pee scenario, and as I said this beach has no facilities. I saw her enter the dunes, their sandy ridges create a series of sheltered hollows, each out of sight of the next, certainly well out of sight of the beach and the humped mass of sand between deadens sound effectively - so pretty much out of earshot too. It would be a risk… was it worth taking? Best to follow, see where she stops.
My heart was thumping in my chest with the excitement of it. We crossed four sandy ridges, seeing no-one and getting further from the beach. This was looking good. I dropped to all fours; it wouldn’t do to simply walk up to her. Cautiously I popped my head over the next crest. This was it! She was crouched down with her back towards the beach, and of course towards me- perfect but not entirely unexpected. Most people wanting to pee instinctively face away from the nearest grouping of people- its just a little fact I have learned in my experience that aids a clean surprise. Her bikini bottoms were round her ankles and there was a dark patch beneath her. It was spreading slightly but mainly just draining quickly into the parched sand. I could hear the pattering drizzle of urine as she peed. Her purse lay slightly to one side
Let her finish! There will be a moment when she stops, the comforting feeling of a newly-emptied bladder blocks out much external sensation and then the need to pull up those bikini bottoms. This should provide a useful if pointless distraction; she will not be needing to put those back on for a while! So, with luck the combination of these effects should be enough to cover my approach. I had 4 yards or so of downhill sand to cross to reach her before she was aware. I mustn’t stumble.
I crouched and waited, ready to spring. I heard her sigh as the flow slowed to a trickle and became erratic. Another spurt and she was finished; it was time! I didn’t consciously realize it was the moment, experience simply took over and I was up and into the dune hollow behind her even before I realized I had moved. My approach caught her completely by surprise; she hadn’t looked round and was searching in her purse for a tissue when I was upon her, my hand around her mouth stifling any cries of surprise. I used my other hand to push her firmly in the small of the back. My onslaught caught her off balance with the result that she toppled forwards and fell headlong (but silently) into the sand with me lying atop her back; A highly successful approach phase! This gave me a split second to plan my next move as the combination of my weight and the shock would hold her immobile for a short while. I used my free hand to grab a wrist and bent the arm across her back in a half-Nelson. I pushed the wrist up until I felt the joints tighten and then I pushed firmly beyond the natural stop to the movement. Not enough to break, just enough to make clear that I could if I wished, and to inflict enough pain to introduce an element of hesitation into her response.
She stiffened and flinched with the pain; I felt a flow of warm breath over the hand covering her mouth- breath that should have been a scream, but was now merely a scream stillborn, aborted by my weight on her back and my grip on her mouth. Any sound that accompanied it was directed harmlessly into the sand. The body beneath me started to writhe and struggle, I inched the wrist up a little more and felt rather than heard her moan of pain that followed. I didn’t like doing this but it was necessary, there has to be a submission here and I have to gain it quickly. I slid my hand from her mouth to her throat and squeezed. Her whole body bucked in desperation. I will not hurt her but she cannot know that, I applied more pressure and heard her gag into the sand. Her movements were subsiding, her body tense but trembling beneath me. Now was the time- strike the deal!
“Don’t struggle, don’t make a noise. You understand?”
Her body froze in its struggle, this was the moment, make or break now! Which way would it go? I knew her mind was racing, weighing up the options, calculating escape but the fact was she had no idea who had trapped her. She knew nothing about me, she didn’t know how serious was my intent, how far I would go; and even though she could feel my weight on her, she hadn’t seen me and couldn’t know my strength or size. All she could know is that I was stronger than she was, and I was determined. It took a split second before this clicked in her brain and she took the only option presently open to her. The body beneath me stopped struggling, the tension eased she nodded into the dune and there was a mumbled assent. I kept my part of the deal- at least for now, and eased the pressure on both arm and throat. She coughed and gulped in the fresh lungful of air I had denied her. She was almost panting now. I knew that this was a milestone passed, the game moved on to the next.
I eased myself off her, moving my hand from her throat back to her mouth
“Quiet” I hissed. I eased my weight off her back and released her arm. A momentary struggle- not quite home yet so forced the arm up again- further than before and this time the cry was just audible despite my cupping hand. The renewed threat did the trick.
“OK, OK; let me go! Please stop, stop: Stooppp! Oh please stop!”
I released the pressure again, moved my hand to her shoulder and rolled her over to inspect my prize. I grasped a handful of hair and stretched it tight so I could move her head easily. Sand was caked across her mouth where I had pressed her into the dune, tears streaked her face and her skin looked red and puffy. I brushed the sand from her mouth and kissed her roughly, savoring her taste moving her head with her hair, but the mouth stayed closed. I pulled back from her a slapped her across the face with my free hand. Terror flashed in her eyes and a small trickle of blood issued from her lip at the corner of her mouth.
“Do it!” I hissed and applied my mouth again to hers. I felt her whole body shudder but the lips opened. It was a shame about the taste of blood so I pulled back, wiped it away and reapplied myself to her. I sucked her saliva, fresh and sweet. My tongue roamed across her membranes, she was grimacing and tried to pull away but I held her more firmly and probed her mouth deeper with my tongue. I was lying across her now so that the lower part of her body was free; it was convulsing, the legs bending and thrashing from side to side in a vain effort to free her or perhaps simply with distaste for what I was doing to her. There was a gurgling sound in the throat and I realized that I had my free hand around her throat again and was squeezing, Instantly I relaxed the pressure and released her mouth. She gasped for air again, sucking in rich deep gulps. I hadn’t intended that, but perhaps it served my purpose and I could study my prize whilst she recovered.
The bikini pants were still around her legs below her knees, as far as she had been able to raise them before my assault. Her thighs were smooth and well formed, swelling and tapering towards her hips. Her belly was flat and beneath it a forest of tightly curled fair hair sprang in a neatly trimmed triangle around her mons. I moved my hand from her hair to her throat again and pushed her head back and down, the threat was clear. This freed my other hand and allowed me to bend and kiss the smooth, soft flesh of her belly above those delicious curls. The texture was wonderful. I worked my head down to the downy curls themselves and nuzzled in amongst them. The scent of her pussy wafted through the forest, enticing, arousing. I felt my urgency mounting. With one hand on her throat I raised my head and plunged the other hand into the gap between her thighs, wiggling my fingers to find the pussy lips. She bucked at the intrusion and started to struggle
“No, No, Nooo! Oh Please, No! Please stop, Please let me go”
Her cries were weak because of my grip on her throat but even so they only served to heighten my needs. I tuned my attention at last to those orbs that had first captivated me and sealed her fate that afternoon. Her full bra-top had been pressed into the dune during my onslaught, and although much of the sand had brushed loose since then some grains still stuck to the rounded swell of each breast. Like the hoops on her tee-shirt this served only to emphasize their delicious shape and despite myself I think I simply moaned “Ooh” lost in wonder.
That had been a mistake, she saw the opportunity and struggled anew, she evaded my arms and struggled to her feet. I was seriously wrong-footed by the surprise; I was off balance and rolling in the sand. She was up and starting to run, I saw a heel flash out of the corner of my eye and I made a desperate lunge for it. My hand connected, the grip was firm as my fingers closed around her lower calf. I pulled hard. Her momentum carried me forward a little way but I held on and was rewarded as she lost her balance, toppled over and immediately I was on her again. I slapped her face hard, twice
“Don’t try that again!”
She was sobbing, there was hated and defiance in her eyes but I could tell that she knew now who was the stronger and the faster of the two of us. I dragged her back down into the bottom of the dune hollow and immediately set about releasing those breasts. I reached around her and fumbled with the bra-top fastening. Her boobies tumbled out as soon as the catch came free. They were a vision of total delight, every bit as perfect as I had hoped. Not wanting to take any chances, I grasped her throat again; firmly but not enough to stop breathing. The move frightened her and both hands immediately went to mine to try and prize my hand free.
“Just don’t struggle and it will be OK” I hissed.
She nodded, there was panic in her eyes but she stopped struggling. I could at last bend my head and take those delicious breasts in my mouth. God, the feel of them, the weight! Every bit as I had imagined, maybe better. I nipped and licked, kissed and sucked before finally latching on to a nipple and tugging firmly. At first nothing, then that delicious fromage frais flavor, the raspberry yoghurt secretion of a fertile but non-lactating woman. I believe that this secretion is intended to intoxicate a would-be lover, and even though it was unwillingly yielded by this woman’s body it still worked its magic. I suckled like a baby for a while, my body relaxing on top of hers. Without realizing it I was giving unconscious grunts of pleasure and contentment as I emptied first one breast and then the other.
As I emerged from my trance I could hear sobbing and realized she was crying. My threats seemed to have worked because she was making every effort to be a quiet as possible, but there was no mistaking her misery. I reached up and gently stroked a tear from her cheek. She looked at me, her eyes silently pleading whilst another tear ran swiftly down. I can’t pretend I wasn’t touched, but this was about my needs not hers, and I wasn’t finished yet. At least I knew that she would survive this afternoon’s encounter, she clearly didn’t and this I surmised was responsible in some large part for her distress. Ignoring her protests I raised myself above her, unfastening my pants as I did so.
“No, please no!” she wailed.
I was made of sterner stuff, and some of that stuff was pretty hard as well as stren now. My prick leapt out from its confines as soon as the zipper was down. I pushed my pants down onto my thighs and rolled on top of her in classic missionary position. She was sobbing but didn’t struggle; perhaps she was resigned to the violation. I wriggled myself into the gap between her thighs and pushed. I felt the warmth of her thigh and the texture of her pussy thatch but that was all. I pushed again, and then again, but no success. It is very hard to enter an uncooperative woman. The geometry is very tricky if only one person is plotting the angles.
“Let me in!” I hissed.
She didn’t move
“Let me in!!!” I repeated, raising my hand to her neck yet again. The implied threat did the trick, I felt her hand move down and take hold of my prick. Her sobbing was rising now; it was almost uncontrollable and she was shaking when my guided prick head finally presented itself at her entrance and she took her hand away. She sobbed, I pushed. This time I felt her lips open to admit me and I eased myself into her just a little way, opening her, delighting in her. Each push opened her a little more and so I could follow with another, a little deeper, a little more. Each little thrust I made was rewarded with the most delicious pleasure stolen from her body as the sheath of her vagina clung to my shaft like a glove. She could feel me entering her, each thrust taking me deeper into her core. Each thrust bringing her ultimate violation a little closer and each wresting a small sob of fear and shame from her being. Her sobs were soft, quiet now as I had requested, and yet I found them intensely erotic, each only added to my needs and my urgency. She was mine and for my pleasure only! I eased myself into her fully and bottomed out at the end of her vagina. Her body flinched at the pressure and the cry was a little louder.
Now I could shaft her fully, I relished in withdrawing my prick almost entirely only to plunge it back into her body once more, to feel anew the delicious opening of her vagina and the joy of being engulfed once more in her womanhood. At first I pulled out and returned to her depths only slowly, delighting in the slow slip of penetration, but as her pussy seemed to grip more and more, so the sensations took hold, the need for orgasm building inside me, obscuring everything else.
My thrusts became harder, deeper, rising in frequency until I was bucking in and out of her body as fast as I could, Pulling out only to plunge back in deeply to the nub of her cervix and again, again again! The depth of penetration was probably hurting her, certainly this was deeper than before, but I was insensitive to that now! Pull out, thrust! Pull out, thrust! Pull Push, Pull Push oh God thus was lovely! I grabbed her breasts and sank my fingertips into the firm but yielding mounds. Her body flinched and she gave a small cry. The climb to orgasm was consuming me now; swelling, building, pushing me over the edge. Christ this was lovely! More more more MMOORRRE MMMM!!!!!!!
I pushed my hips firmly against her, penetrating as deeply as I could. I felt my penis strain inside her as I tensed my buttocks against her to maintain the depth. My balls twitched and emptied themselves into her through my jumping, twitching prick. I grabbed her hips and held her tightly so her body would have to receive all of my emission. I tensed against her with each spurt of my ejaculation, moaning with the intensity of the delicious sensations I had stolen from her protesting body.
Immediately after orgasm there is a short time when a man doesn’t think about sex. This is probably the state in which a woman spends most of her life, but for a man it is confined to a few moments of post-orgasmic peace. Only at this time can we see the world uncolored by our sexual needs, and so attain some semblance of clarity and perspective. I firmly believe that no weighty decisions of state should ever be taken by Government unless all (male) ministers have been very recently serviced! So it was for me, and gradually, as I came down form the heights of my sexual delirium the sobbing of the woman became more audible. I hate this part of my activities. I know I feel sorry for the pain and the humiliation I have caused. I feel fear of discovery, of capture and punishment; but I also know that in an hour, a day perhaps, my needs will return and I will venture out again.
The woman was looking at me in fear now; this is the moment when she must know that I will either let her go… or not. For me there was never any doubt.
“Don’t move for 10 minutes” I said
The relief flooded over her face, she almost sobbed with misplaced gratitude for her freedom
“10 minutes…” I repeated. I picked up her forgotten purse “… and remember, I know where you live”
I had no intention of visiting her, but I needed her to take the time limit seriously if I was to get out of this safely. She nodded; relief at their survival often makes my targets amazingly cooperative in this final phase of the attack. I gathered up my stuff, turned and made my way quickly up the dune.