Marina's Fantasy

Marina's workweek had been very trying and she was tired. Starting home all she could think about was how she was going to relax over the next couple of days. With her husband, Carlo being out of town on business and Sandra, her daughter expected to spend the weekend away with a friend's family, Marina had no plans and no commitments.

Even the weather forecast was to cooperate as a storm was already blowing in. So unless something unexpected came up Marina saw her self just catching up on some reading, maybe sleeping a little later and hoping that the world would simply pass her by for the weekend.

"Just one stop," Marina thought considering what all she needed from the market before going home. "A bottle of wine for sure and some candles," she continued, planning and adding to her list of necessities in case the storm should keep her indoors or knock the power out.

Inside the store, Marina spotted Silvano, a handsome neighborhood teenager who worked as a stock boy. There was little doubt in Marina's mind that Silvano had a crush on her. Every time she shopped there, he wouldn't be far away just looking her over and smiling mischievously. Marina considered it flattering that the young man would take such obvious pleasure in watching her.

Marina hadn't been shopping long when she heard the resonating 'Booms' of thunder. Hurrying to finish before she got caught in the storm, Marina cut a few items from her list, but she hadn't been quick enough. Leaving the shop she could see the heavy clouds laying in, feel the wind picking up and could smell the rain in the air. Looking to the distance Marina could see the foreboding skies, dark and ominous. Immediately she knew this storm would be severe and now wasn't so comfortable at the prospect of being alone.

Poor Marina could hardly manage things; her hands were filled with grocery packages, her eyes squinting against the elements, her high heels slipping under foot and her skirt swirled lasciviously about her knees. By the time, she made it to her car her blonde bangs were dripping in ringlets about her face and she sensed her make-up had at least partially washed away. "What a fright I must look," Marina thought, glad that she shouldn't be seeing anyone she knew.

Once back in the relative safety of her car Marina assessed the damage and immediately noticed how transparent her blouse had become once soaked through, her lace frilled bra showing quite clearly. Her skirt was not much better as the drenched fabric clung to her thighs with beads of water dripping down her legs. Slowly a chill crept through Marina making her realize that she needed to get out of these wet clothes and warm up as soon as possible.

The streets were clearing quickly with everyone making their way indoors so Marina made good time getting home. Once parked, she made her way again through the elements to her front door taking care not to fall. After opening the door and switching the light, it was obvious the power had already failed.

"Damn," she cursed, her first thought wondering if there would still be enough hot water for a soothing bath. With her arms still laden with packages, Marina swung a shapely hip to close the door behind her. Carefully now she navigated the dark house towards the kitchen with only the occasional lightening flash to illuminate her way.

Once Marina had put her groceries away, she poured herself a glass of wine and took a long swallow. "Ahhh," she breathed, exhaling some of her tension, feeling the sweet juice slightly tickling and warming her throat. The wine was so delicious and Marina needed such calming that she made quick work of the first glass then poured another.

"Candles, matches, wine and a bath," Marina thought, planning and gathering what she'd need upstairs. Now with everything in hand Marina began making her way through the dark interior towards the bath room feeling more at ease that everything was going to be alright.

Outside Marina could still hear the storm's fury, the thunder cracking, the wind howling and rattling the yard's tree limbs, the rain pelting the ground as heavy as hail. No longer concerned for herself Marina suddenly shuddered, wondering and hoping that Sandra was safe and out of the storm.

Of late Marina wasn't so sure she could manage or trust her daughter, didn't even know if she had a boy friend, or if she was still a virgin. Even as a child, Sandra had been headstrong, defiant, and now at 18 she was almost too much for Marina to handle. Sandra was becoming a woman but in her mother's mind she was still more a child. These were awkward times for the two of them, trying to forge a balance, the mother trying to help her daughter mature, the daughter wanting to do it her own way and in her own time.

"I'll call her," Marina thought before reconsidering. She knew Sandra needed some space, some time away and besides she was still chilled and needed to get out of her wet clothes. "Maybe later," Marina decided now carefully climbing the stairs so as not to slip in her wet heels.

Once in the darkened bathroom Marina set down her supplies before firing the first of two candles. In a few seconds, the little flames flickered under breath casting dancing shadows about the room. Now Marina could concentrate on removing her clothing. Although the coolness of her clothes had diminished since coming indoors their wet fabric still clung to her almost like a second skin. The sensation of having her clothes feeling so clingy, so plastered to her, that Marina thought it strangely erotic.

Beginning with her blouse Marina unfastened the buttons then pulled the top overhead. As she did so, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. For a time Marina studied herself before deciding she liked how she looked in the soft light. Although her hair was sloppy and her make-up smeared, Marina thought she looked seductive, sultry – the way she imagined herself looking after some hot sex.

"Marina?" she shamed herself, "such thoughts and to be alone," she continued while taking more wine.

Being 41 and having a teenage daughter, Marina wasn't at all displeased with her looks, or who she was. She liked her hair short as it was now it made her feel more carefree. She'd always liked her eyes, their sparkling green. She considered them her best facial feature, spicy and yet playful depending on her mood. "I still have the men looking," Marina thought, seeing her full breasts slightly over-flowing her bra, her mature shapely hips, and remembering how hungrily Silvano at looked at her in the grocery. True he was only a teenager, she conceded, but he was male nonetheless.

Now Marina turned her focus to her skirt, quickly working the button around her waist to finally shrug it off. Next came her heels then panty hose, which she carefully peeled down her legs before tossing them aside. Standing now in just her thin panties and bra, looking herself over, Marina once again thought of the young stock boy with the wondering eyes, how she'd caught him looking at her legs, how he smiled so saucily, grinning just a little at being caught.

Marina was by her own admission a highly sexed creature. She wasn't accustomed to going very long without an orgasmic release. Typically, Marina had marital relations a couple of times a week, but that was hardly enough for her especially considering the torrid fantasies she routinely entertained. To ultimately satisfy her sexual appetite it wasn't unusual for Marina to masturbate at least every other day and when her fantasies were running on high she would indulge herself daily.

Warmed some by her imaginings, Marina caressed her hands along her skin wondering if she could still hold her own with such a strong young man as Silvano, please him, and satisfy such youthful virility. She wasn't so sure. Granted she had the experience, the wiles, but did she have the stamina? Marina found the prospect, the fantasy exciting and could sense herself becoming aroused, her nipples tingling and slowly beginning to rise.

"Oh Marina," she said to herself, "you've had too much wine already."

Just then, after Marina collected her emotions and started to open the faucet to draw her bath she caught sound of a faint noise. She knew her house well and even with the storm still raging, believed the sound had come from within the house, maybe from down stairs. Perhaps Sandra had come home early, she thought. Now listening intently Marina focused her hearing beyond the confines of the bathroom, but after another minute or two heard nothing further.

While listening, Marina considered calling out to Sandra to make sure the noise she'd heard was she, but thought wiser of that idea just in case it wasn't. If it was Sandra, she would be up the stairs in a minute or two so Marina just waited, her pulse racing a bit, her mouth becoming dry.

As the minutes passed the silence and uncertainty continued. Marina thought back to how she'd seen the house earlier, was anything different, could someone have already been in the house before she came in?

"No," Marina answered her own thinking, "the door was locked when I got home." Marina thought harder trying to remember re-locking the door, but all she could see in her mind was having her hands full. "Stupid me," Marina whispered now remembering how she'd used her hip to push the door to and never returned to lock it. "Maybe it was just the wind," she comforted herself trying not to worry over nothing but a coincident.

Still in just her lingerie with only a robe thrown over, Marina made her way quietly down the hall so as not to let her presence know. If there was someone other than Sandra in the house, she sure didn't want to let on that she was home and alone.

At the top of the stairs, Marina listened again, hearing nothing but now looking into the living room below to see if anything appeared to be out of place. Within the darkness, she couldn't see much of anything, nothing appeared clearly out of sorts, and yet something seemed odd.

Once at the base of the stairs Marina began focusing her suspicions towards the door. As she neared, she could see a sliver of light shining through the hinge. Sure enough, the door hadn't closed all the way, it had blown open in the wind, what a relief she thought feeling herself draw in the nervous breath she'd been holding.

Marina could feel herself calming, her nerves settling. She almost began to laugh at how foolish she had felt. "Now I'll call Sandra," she told herself dialing her daughter's cell phone, needing to put all her concerns to rest. 'Ring...ring...ring,' the phone sounded in Marina's ear before she heard Sandra's youthful voice on the other end. "Sandra," Marina began before being suddenly controlled and effectively silenced by a large firm hand placed over her mouth and another clenched around her waist.

Instantly, reactively Marina tried to scream but she emitted only a muffled cry. Simultaneously, instinctively Marina fought her attacker, contorting her frail body within his grasp while flailing her arms about desperately.

Within the man's iron arms, after only seconds Marina knew she didn't have the strength to thwart her attacker. She was already feeling fatigued and was out of breath from being partially smothered and squeezed so tightly. Now Marina wilted, pausing to rest and consider what was happening. As she thought what to do, a second man, another large man wearing a dark hood moved to take the phone from her hand and hung it up with the sound of Sandra's questioning voice growing faint in the process. "Quiet now," a deep toned, accented voice spoke from Marina's back side, "We're not here to hurt you," he continued, Marina immediately recognized the speech as American. "We only want your help."

Marina's eyes were wide in terror, tears already welling, her pulse racing, her breathes coming in shallow pants. The man having a hold of her was strong to be sure and his grasp unrelenting. Marina could feel his broad chest enveloping her, his height towering above her.

"I'm going to ask you some questions," the masked man standing before Marina began. "And we don't want any bullshit answers," his companion added. After the initial instructions, the man at Marina's back removed his hand from across her mouth and replaced it around her shoulders and upper chest effectively trapping her arms within his.

For only another moment, Marina re-tested her captor's grip but when he squeezed forcing more air from her little lungs, she knew there was nothing she could do, especially not against two such men. "What..do..you.. want," she asked, trying to speak her best English, her voice cracking in fear.

From what the men asked, Marina surmised that they were investigating her employer's company, apparently of things she knew nothing about. "I don't know," came Marina's first answer, "I am only a secretary."

Displeased with Marina's lack of cooperation the man at her back lowered his arm from her upper chest down until she could feel the weight and mass of his arm resting at the swell of her breast. He had her in a pinch squeezing her narrow waist and torso to the extent she could feel her bones compacting.

"Shall we try again," the apparent leader asked, now stepping closer to the captive woman so close that she could feel his breath on her face.

Looking up at the man who stood almost a foot taller than she was, Marina was immediately drawn to his eyes, seeded in the dark hood. They were serious eyes, dark, piercing, unblinking; seemingly without compassion and so strong that Marina found herself unable to look straight into them.

Marina's concerns were growing, she knew these men meant business, but she didn't know the answers to their questions, she wished she did. "I'm...not..sure," came another of her answers, trying to buy time and think if there was something she should know or should've paid more attention to at work, but didn't.

Once again the man behind Marina moved, still having her arms trapped, now slipping his right hand inside her robe, and lowering it to cover her left breast. This time however, he didn't just rest it there but instead grabbed her tit firmly, squeezing it hard through her sheer bra, manipulating the pliant flesh within his fingers.

"Oooch," Marina winced, never having felt such aggression or feeling so powerless to stop what was happening to her. Suddenly as her assailant found her nipple and took it between his fingers, Marina felt a jolt rush up her spine. Surely, she wasn't feeling excited about his touch, this situation, she wondered and worried.

"When is the next shipment arriving," Marina heard the leader ask. She thought to answer, wanted to tell them something that would end this ordeal, but she was silent finding her concentration focused more on the violating touch.

"She won't tell," Marina heard the man say across her ear his face just to her side. "I'll make her talk," he added suddenly moving his hands to snatch the robe from Marina's shoulders, stripping it away.

As best she could, Marina tried to grab the cover before it was gone but she was too slow. Within mere seconds, she found herself standing before the two strangers with only her scant under clothes concealing her nudity.

"Bastardo," Marina cried in her native tongue, retracting her reaching arms once she saw the man toss her robe out of reach across the dark spans of the living room.

Almost beaten Marina tried to protect her modesty by moving her arms and hands from one place to another trying to shield the men's views of her breasts, crotch, or backside, but her efforts were in vain. There was nothing she could do, no matter what part of her anatomy she covered some other part was exposed. Marina could feel the men's hungry eyes upon her, taking in her feminine curves.

It was then, that Marina once again saw those over-powering eyes, now silently telling her not to resist. As much as she would've preferred otherwise, Marina was somehow weakened by this man's stare. She felt frail before him as if he knew her better than she knew herself and yet she knew nothing of him except that he was in control.

As Marina felt herself melting under the leader's stare, she felt his accomplice once again engulf her within his muscular arms. With minimal effort he controlled her weakened state before moving to fill one palm with her breast while then placing his other hand atop her little panties.

This woman felt good to his touch, she was soft, warm and seemingly beyond resisting. He could feel her trembling; feel her muscles quivering beneath her feminine flesh. He liked her fear.

Marina knew that she was running out of time, but she couldn't think of what to do. She was frozen in time and thought, consumed with the sensation of this man's hands upon her person. She could feel his fingers moving, searching, caressing, feel his excited breaths exhaled at her neck.

"I think the bitch likes it," her accoster growled pinching Marina's betraying nipple finding it peaked upon her breast, erect and rigid. "Yes she does," he added reading her body, now slipping a large hand under the waistband of her silks, strumming his fingers through her fine pubes, reaching his fingertips nearer to her center, searching out her hidden clit.

Marina could feel the man at her back pressing his pelvis against her, grinding his crotch against her ass. She could feel his hardness rising, feel his cock stabbing her soft butt. Unwillingly Marina thought to imagine his size. She felt herself losing it; her nipples ached from being so hard, her breasts swollen heavy. At her center, Marina could feel her pussy warming and moistening, her clit tingled and stiffened to receive this man's invading touch.

"Si arresta prego," Marina began before realizing her tormentors probably couldn't understand her Italian, "Please..stop," she repeated hoping her pleas would calm the man molesting her or beseech the leader to intervene.

Marina knew instinctively that her situation was dire. Things had changed drastically, where once the men's interests revolved around gaining information now things were purely sexual, especially for the man groping her. Marina could feel his masculine desires for her rising and herself, her body being swayed.

Almost as a last resort, Marina looked once more to the leader for some sign of what his intentions were. Suddenly he reached forward filling his hand with her twisted blonde locks, pulling her head down forcing her to bend at the waist. As reluctant, as she was not to oblige Marina found herself being steered by her hips from behind, leaning forward, and having to place her hands on the leader's hips for balance to keep from falling into him.

Marina was more vulnerable than ever, being controlled from both ends, her head held bowed, and her ass out thrust. At her backside, she could feel the grip upon her hips pressing her forward as if steering her into the leader's crotch and there, only inches away she could see a very distinctive bulge. In the moment, Marina could feel her eye's widening at the sight and barely caught her jaw from dropping open.

Marina's indecent pose hadn't gone unnoticed either, as the man at her back quickly took hold of her frail panties and with one good yank tore them from her body with such strength that the poor woman was nearly rocked to the floor. Had Marina not been clenching the leader's pants for support she would've ended up on the floor.

Then like a trophy to a conqueror, the man at Marina's back briefly raised the torn panties overhead before placing them at his face to breath in her scent. "She's ripe, alright," he bragged before randomly tossing the feminine garment over his shoulder. "Dio dell'OH,..no," (oh..God,..no) Marina cried out, now completely vulnerable, thinking her rape was inevitable. The only things she thought uncertain; was by whom would she first be taken, how many times would they abuse her, and would she survive it all.