Working Late

The fight has been lost and my brain goes to the next line of defence: shutdown. My body goes limp again, everything feels numb as he pushes his extremely hard cock into my pussy. My eyes are empty and void of tears as he fucks me hard and unforgivably in the sand. He grunts and spits and seems to be completely enjoying himself, without a single care for the pain it's causing me. The only thing he cares about is taking my pussy and in that time he own me. His large right hand holds the back of my head, it feels like he could crush me with one pump of the fist. I'm disgusted as I feel his sweat made cold by the fall air drip on me from above as he relentlessly fucks me.

This is by no means a quick assault, he doesn't worry about being caught or the security guard being on rounds. He knows the grounds well and knows where everyone will be and when. The truth is that he has studied this, he has planned this. The package wasn't late, he just changed the paperwork and held it, basically holding me at work. I messed up his first point of attack by forgetting my purse, but he adjusted and got me where he wanted me. He had planned this for months, possibly years and worked out a plan for every single possibility. Like a master chess player and I was just a pawn. This man, who I took for simple completely put me at his mercy without a single thought from me.

Now he was enjoying the fruit of his hard work. He had my leg pried open with one arm, sort of hooked around it so my pelvis was angled upwards giving him full access. His trusts where hard, deep and deliberate. If he wasn't taking me by force I could see how a woman might say he's good at this. The fast rhythm of his movements didn't make him cum like most guys when it gets fast, he was in complete control in every since of the word. This realization flashed through my mind and conflicted thoughts surged through every corner of my consciousness.

Soon my body was betraying me. My first orgasm hit me like a brick wall, my panting became intense and low groaning moans escaped my lips.

"I'm fucking cumming!?" I managed to say in disbelief.

He started thrusting even harder as it came in waves. First one was the hardest, but more followed in sequence perhaps four times. This disgusting, unkempt man, who just violently fucked my mouth (a worse indignity I've never been through) was now making me cum and cum harder than I'd ever cum before. There was no time to think of the perversion of such a think at the time, he was about to do the same thing he had been watching me do.

I felt his whole weight pressing me into he sand and he grunted loudly, emptying his balls into my pussy. I felt his cock pulse at least six times and knew that six potent streams where shot as deep into me and anyone has ever done. I was breathless and he kissed me with his cock still buried deep. My attacker truly defeated me.

After about 5 minutes or so I could feel him removing himself from me. His hand gripped my head very hard and he reminded me one truth of what just happened.

"If youz even think of zaying anthzing, when I get out I fucking kill youz" He said this is such a calm and controlled manner that I didn't doubt a single syllable.

"Zo, ferme ta gueule." That being the last thing he said to me that evening.

He took his time dressing, and I just layed on my back and looked up at the night sky. I'd never been so violated. I could feel everything so intensely in that moment. The sand was inside my open blouse and irritating my skin noticeably for the first time, my legs were scraped very badly from being dragged around and thrown around in the sand and were starting to pulse with pain, the violence in which he ripped my panties of left a mark and I could feel it's pain. I couldn't move until he was gone.

Most of all, I felt intense shame. I was the victim, I know I was, but why did my body react to this ordeal. Why did I not feel disgusted by the possibility that he impregnated me. If anything my senses were open to being with child. It was as if I didn't have any relationship to my senses, the hour he spent assaulting me had changed everything I knew in the world in some way. I spent a long time just alone with my thoughts. I knew I would have to cover this up somehow from my husband but I didn't know how, physically I was a mess and no doubt worse emotionally. I had no idea how I would get home, I still didn't have my keys until I looked down and saw my purse. Until I sat up and saw it about 10 feet away from me.