From: darkside@Hades.net
Subject: Getaway by Dark Side 1/2 (M+/F,nc)
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Getaway by Dark Side
I had been living in New York City on my own for ten years when my
parents died in the accident. Then at 29, I was an orphan. I tried to
continue with my life, but the grief was too great. I started to get
angry at everything from the crime in the city to my neighbor's noisy
bird. Finally, I decided that I needed to get away from it all.
Between the insurance money and my inheritance, I bought a little
place out in the middle of nowhere. I could live there comfortably for
quite a while before I had to consider going back to work. I said
goodbye to the few friends who had remained with me through all my
moods of late, and proceeded to get away from all my troubles and
worries.
I had purchased the house with only one visit and it being my first
real home, I hadn't thought to ask about the amenities. I didn't even
notice until I had moved in all my stuff that I had no phone lines, TV
antenna, or, being a New Yorker, any kind of security system. The real
estate agent laughed when I called from the nearest phone to complain
and he had to tell me that my electricity came from a generator in a
nearby river. I was too embarrassed to even ask about cable service.
He did, however, give me the number of a local company that could help
me make some changes, a fence, antenna, etc. By the end of the call I
had the distinct impression that he didn't think too much of me. The
hell with him, I thought.
I went "into town" the next day to buy supplies and make arraignments
with the company the agent recommended. They would be out in a couple
of days. Over the next 48 hours I settled in, learning that I enjoyed
the peace and quiet of the forest during the day. But it seemed a
scary place at night.
At 8 am on my fourth day in my new home I was woken by the sound of a
truck on the road leading to my property. Throwing a robe over my
naked body, I carefully opened my door to a knock. The company truck
and four men were out front. Tying my robe as tightly as I could, I
invited them in and we set about deciding to have them start on my
privacy fence first.
They started work and I took a shower and got dressed. I spent the
rest of the morning with a book that I always wanted to read, but had
never found the time. They broke for lunch at 1 p.m. and then went
back to work. I have to admit that my mind wandered a bit whenever I
glanced out of the window, they had their shirts off and their slick
skin shone when they moved. But, never one to date much anyway, I
certainly wouldn't come on to a man I didn’t even know in the middle
of nowhere.
The second day started as the first, but at lunch I asked them in. To
show I was grateful for their hard work I had made sandwiches and iced
tea for them. We spoke over the meal and, I guess as part of the grief
process, I spilled my guts to these strangers. Franklin, a muscular
black man, said, "So you're telling us that you just dropped
everything, your job and friends, and moved out to here. And now,
other than us, you don't know anyone?" It sounded ominous when he said
it and I stood up and inched toward the door, nervously giggling.
Harry spoke up, "Guys, I think we're underpaid. We need us a raise." I
bolted.
In the livingroom, used to my old apartment, I turned the wrong way,
away from the door. In the second before I realized it, three of the
four men had moved in front of the exits from the room. Panicked, I
backed away from the last man, Tom, as he approached. "Now why are you
running from us. We've seen you watching us. Then you invite us in and
tell us how alone and vulnerable you are. What did you expect?"
My back hit a wall and he kept coming. Grabbing my arm, he pulled me
back to the middle of the room. His hands reached for the buttons on
my blouse. When I grabbed his wrist he pulled it away and slapped me.
"If you want it rough girl, we can do it." I shook my head and didn't
move when he started to unbutton me again. He did it slow, looking me
in the eyes as he pushed the shirt over my shoulders and exposed my
bra. Then he unsnapped my shorts, tugging the zipper down. They, too,
fell to the floor. I was standing in a house 30 miles from the nearest
help, with four obviously excited men looking at me in my underwear. I
started to cry.
They seemed, to my fear-panicked mind, to take a very long time
looking me over. I could feel their eyes examining every inch of my
5’6" frame. Even in my underwear, I felt naked as their stares seemed
to penetrate the fabric and rest directly on my 36C breasts. I am in
good shape and the swell of my breasts led naturally down my flat
stomach to the sparse brown hair visible through the sheer panties.
Tom moved behind me, unfastening my bra. The straps slipped off my
shoulders but he held the cups over my breasts with his hands. Then he
let them drop, quickly grabbing my exposed flesh. I couldn’t move a
muscle as his unfamiliar flesh gripped me. He kneaded them, pinching
the nipples with his palms. In response to the jeers of his friends,
he suddenly let go. They gasped and whistled as my face reddened and
fresh tears sprung to my eyes. He spun me in a circle, holding my
breasts from underneath for maximum effect, so that all my attackers
could see their prize.
Then his hand moved slowly down my stomach to my crotch, cupping it.
His strong fingers squeezed the sensitive flesh, forcing a yelp from
my dry throat. One of his fingers invaded the slit through the fabric
of my panties, before grasping the waistband and pulling them down.
I stood there with my hands at my sides. I could feel their eyes on
my body. Slowly, as of one mind, they moved to me. Even though Tom no
longer held me, I couldn’t move or talk. I knew that, at least for the
moment, I was not a person anymore. I was a thing, an object.
I closed my eyes and sobbed quietly as their hands moved over my
unwilling body. Fingers invaded every fold and crevice. They squeezed
my breasts, pinching the dark red tips until they stood out hard and
sore. After pushing my legs apart with a foot, a finger found the
entrance to my vagina. It shoved its way inside, ignoring my shout of
pain. Soon it was joined by more, pushing the walls of my tunnel to
the breaking point.
Hands ran over my head, back, and ass. A pair of lips fastened onto a
nipple, sucking it in, teeth nipping. I screamed in defiance and tried
to push them away. But they held tight as a strange set of lips
possessed mine. A tongue shoved its way into my unwilling mouth,
exploring.
The fingers inside me were sawing in and out, feeling more and more
like sandpaper in my dry channel. The lips on my nipples sucked me
into a warm mouth. Many times, the individuals changed places, but the
actions were always the same. They continued until they were all
satisfied that they knew my body far better than any lover or doctor
could.
Finally they were too horny to continue only touching. The next thing
that I knew, I was on my bed. Ron, a white guy in his twenties, was
climbing between my spread legs. I started to sit up but a flash of
pain and the taste of blood on my tongue reminded me that I wasn’t in
charge. I could only watch as the strange man above me undressed. Then
he leaned over me.
I tried to shove him off of me but gave up when the tip of his hard
prick found my entrance and pushed inside. Suddenly everything was in
slow motion. He licked my sweaty lips as the head of his weapon forced
its way in me. Resting his weight on his elbows on either side of me,
his strong fingers gripped my breasts for leverage. With a tremendous
push, he was imbedded in me, the head of his cock resting against the
back wall of my violated womanhood.
Then he began to move. His tongue shoved against mine when I opened my
mouth to scream. The pain was unlike any I had ever felt, far worse
than losing my viginity. It felt as if he were ripping the skin right
out of me To make it even worse, he giggled and watched my face
intently as he used me. I know that I jabbered incoherently as the
pain took over my body, pleading for him to stop. Then he did.
Eddie was next, also just climbing on and thrusting into me. He was
much larger than Ron, and I felt every inch pushing against the wall
at the back of my vagina. He rutted above me, dripping spit as he
tried to split me in half. I was exhausted by the time he pulled out,
but Franklin stepped to the side of the bed.
He grabbed my head between his hands and wiped his long, black dick
over my cheeks. "Suck it up, whore. And don't you let me feel any of
those teeth, got it?" I've never gotten into oral sex, avoiding it
whenever possible with boyfriends. But with no choice I nodded my head
and opened my mouth, allowing my tongue to caress the length of him.
The tip was a startling pink in contrast to the blackness around it. I
could taste the sweat of this morning's work on his skin as I took it
in.
It slowly filled my mouth and I began to move my head up and down on
the huge slab of cock. I was on my side, working on the black meat in
front of me when I felt the bed sag behind me. Tom whispered in my ear
as his hands wrapped around to my breasts. "Spread your pretty legs,
it's my turn." As I did, I felt his meat slide easily into my body.
Somehow, I lost track of the time as the two men used me. The next
thing I knew, Franklin’s hands were gripping my head as his hips
worked his swollen member in and out of my bruised lips. They came at
the same time, each shoving their manhood as far as they could into my
body.
The moment that I had been unconsciously waiting for had arrived. They
had used all me and were done now. They would leave me alone to
recover. I had fantasies of watching the police grabbing them off the
street running through my head as a new sound caught my attention.
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