Taken Unaware

Taken Unaware by KJ Larson

Jen sat on Mike and Cindy's bed, trembling and crying in Cindy's arms. The beautiful summer day had started with such promise; spectacular weather and a barbecue with friends. Then the process server appeared on her doorstep and served her with divorce papers. It was not unexpected - she and Rich had been separated for nearly three months - but the court-stamped documents made it all real.

It would be the first divorce in her family - ever. She couldn't even think of another divorced person in the conservative church culture she grew up in. Her self-identity and self-esteem were shattered, the well-being of her children and her financial security in question, at now at the age of 28 her entire future was in doubt. It was just too much and the pain was disabling.

Cindy left the room briefly then returned with four small blue tablets and a glass of water. "These are Valium that Liz just gave me. They will calm you down and will help you stop shaking. Come out to the barbecue, sit in the sun, hopefully it'll take your mind off things." Jen gratefully accepted and downed the small tablets.

Jen sat on a chaise lounge determined to survive the day. She tried to maintain a brave face as the women all made a point to chat and commiserate with the pretty young wife struggling with such intense pain. Very quickly the amnestic sedative flooded her central nervous system and she floated into a tranquil fog.

Twenty minutes late Liz checked on Jen and was alarmed to find her listless and dazed. She asked Cindy how many of the tablets Jen had taken. Cindy indicated all four. Liz's eye grew wide, "Those are 10 MG tablets; half of one would have been enough for her, she's only 125 pounds. I thought you knew I was giving her extra for later!"

"Oh Christ! She's never had one and she doesn't drink. Her body must be on tilt. Let's get her out of the sun." They attempted to rouse her and walk her to the guest room but she was limp and lethargic. "Mike!" Cindy hollered, "Get Jen into the guest room now!" Mike tried unsuccessfully to lift her by the arm before calling over his men's league soccer teammate Neil to assist. They put the wilted woman between them and carried her like an injured soldier from the battlefield.

Cindy and Liz followed them into the guest room and then shooed the men out so they could make her comfortable. They took her shoes, blouse, and jeans off before covering her with a bed sheet. They sat with her until they were certain she was breathing normally, then closed the door and left her alone to rejoin the other guests.

With the lunch of grilled chicken, burgers, and salads, Heineken flowed freely from the keg, and Mike's Sonos system filled the yard with a varied playlist of popular music.

It was quiet inside the house. Neil filled a glass of water from the kitchen faucet, not because he was thirsty, but so he could look out the kitchen window and be sure his absence went unnoticed. He was relieved to see Cindy thoroughly engaged in an animated conversation with a number of her girlfriends. Mike was kicking a soccer ball with the younger boys.

Neil went down the hall to the guest room door. He glanced back down the hall before opening it, going in silently, and turning to close the door slowly and quietly behind him.

Though the blinds were closed, daylight seeped in and could easily see Jen's languid shape on the bed. She was partially covered in a sheet with one leg visible. Neil crept to her side and studied her face intently as she slept. His heart pounded in his chest and he reminded himself to breathe.

The sheet covered her chest but the straps of a beige bra were visible. He stepped back towards the foot of the bed and lifted the sheet and saw that she was wearing matching beige panties. She was athletic and toned, her skin clear and young looking.

Neil again lifted the sheet but this time left it covering her top half, exposing her firm stomach, panties, and legs. He carefully lifted her right ankle to pull it from her left. He took several steps back and watched to see if she stirred at all. No movement. He gently hooked the sides of her panties with his index fingers and slowly began to pull them down, watching her face, holding his breath.

The mental image of Cindy coming in to check on her and discovering him undressing her unconscious BFF flashed in his mind. He pictured Cindy screaming and slapping at him angrily, calling for Mike to come kick his ass. Still he continued moving the panties down her thighs, past her knees, and over her calves.

Again he quickly stepped back and watched for any reaction. He could see the soft pink lips of her vagina and felt the blood rush into his groin. His pulse quickened and he knew there would be no stopping now.

He moved to the head of the bed to again study her face. She was a pretty young woman, her face framed by soft sandy blonde hair that looked to come just to her shoulders. Her mascara had run, no doubt from the earlier tears. He could see the tops of her breasts gently rise and fall with each breath.

Her shoulders looked soft and kissable. He began to reel with conflicting thoughts - this was all a mistake, he should have approached her properly as a gentleman, offering kind words and perhaps a smile as she faced a personally trying time. That time had passed.

He moistened the tips of his index and forefingers of his right hand and gently began to stroke the length of her opening. His fingers gently probed her crevice. She was moist and warm and he thought he heard a low moan but couldn't be sure. He put his middle finger inside her, the violation smooth and silky. Her breathing seemed deeper.

He penetrated her deeper with his finger, gently and slowly sliding it in and out. He thought he saw her hips buck ever so slightly. He thought,maybe just imagined, she pushed back onto his finger so he put a second, and then a third finger into her.

Her mouth opened just a bit and she drew deep and steady breaths. He twisted his wrist, gently drilling into her center. He could feel her labia's increasing warmth and growing wetness. Her chest, still covered by the sheet, began to rise and fall as she took deeper and deeper breaths.

Keeping his right hand on her, he turned again to study her face. She was so pretty. He wanted her so badly. He let himself interpret the moisture coating his fingers as silent assent. He put a fourth finger inside of her, put his thumb firmly on her mons pubis and clamped his hand as if to take possession of her sex, to claim it as his own.

He would take her. He lowered his pants to his ankles and crawled between her legs. He slowly fed the length of his cock into her, watching her face intently. He rocked his hips, pushing in and out of her, at first gently, then with increasing resolve and confidence.

Suddenly her eyes opened, filled with fear. Reflexively he clamped his hand over her mouth, his heart racing. He knew if she screamed Cindy and Mike would come rushing through the door. He told her to please be quiet and assured her that he was not there to hurt her. He raised his hand from her mouth and waited. She did not scream but her breathing got faster and deeper. Then the look of fear in her eyes dulled inexplicably.

Still she didn't scream, she didn't strike out at him. His heart thumped in his chest as he struggled to assess the situation. Should he flee the room or beg her forgiveness? Her eyes were blank but open and she did not move or cry out.

And then he felt it - the contraction of the vaginal muscles gripping his trespassing shaft. Was it involuntary, or was she telling him to continue?

She rolled onto her right side and moved her knees up slightly in front of her. Was she turning her back to face away from him in limp escape, or to grant him deeper access? He could not know. He stroked his tumid penis and probed for her clitoris with its swollen end.

He thought she pushed her hips closer to him. He pushed himself inside her and gripped the flesh of her right hip with both of his hands, penetrating her repeatedly.

As he ravaged her lax torso relentlessly the small guest-room filled with the cacophony of sex, their glistening flesh slapping against each other, the muffled cry she made with every piercing; part moan, part scream, part grunt - the noise he made, the raspy exertion of his thrusts, his breathing loud and urgent as his lungs screamed for air.

He pulled her bra down to her stomach, desperate to see and feel her breasts. They were firm and moved in concert with his thrusts.

Her face flush, she reached an arm slick with sweat behind her to take hold of the base of his cock. Neil expected that the savage interlude was over. Instead Jen used her grip on his shaft to stab at her swollen crimson vagina with angry intensity. She held his cock like a dagger and lewdly penetrated herself with it relentlessly.

When Neil fatigued and started to slow she drove a fingernail sharply into his scrotum signaling her displeasure. When he resumed the furious pounding she removed her fingernail. After some time she pulled his cock out painted with a pungent cream that also glazed her own hand.

Again he expected an end to the bizarre copulation. Instead she guided the head of his cock past her perineum to the porta of her anus. She fed his throbbing cock inch by inch through her ringpiece into her rectum, each increment punctuated by deep heaving that shook her upper body violently.

With his full length inside her she looked with dead eyes back across her shoulder and extended her gunk covered hand to his mouth. He took it with both hands and held it to his nostrils to drink in its obscene scent. He sucked her thumb and fingers and carefully licked the spaces between them. He lapped like a wolf at her palm and the back of her hand.

Neil was on sensory overload; the sound of her dyspneic lust, the sight of his rock hard cock pounding the young wife's punch-drunk ass, and the taste and smell of her creamy arousal on his lips and tongue. The scent of sex hung in the air; not the subdued fragrance of gentle lovemaking, but the piercing acrid summertime smell of hammered cunt, sweat and butt-fucking.

The wicked combination caused him to quake with a building orgasm. He wrapped her hand with his, levered back on her forearm, and jetted a torrent of semen deep into her bowel with a loud, primal groan.

The young blonde mother lay prone, eyes closed, and breathing heavily. The bed sheet had fallen away, her bra was around her abdomen still clasped, her stretched panties ringed one ankle. Her crotch was red and inflamed front to back.

Dazed, perhaps more than her, Neil slipped out the door, and left the party.