A Journey Ends

She looked back over her shoulder and squinted into the darkness. There was nothing there, but for just a moment she thought she'd heard a noise. She shook her head, it'd been far too long a day and the strain was obviously starting to wear her thin.

She gave her head another shake to clear away the tiredness and pulled the extending handle to her suitcase before walking towards the station car park. It was just her luck to get one of the last trains into town, and now she'd either have to find a cab or make her own way home. As she exited the station platform and made her way into the dark carpark, she heard the scrape of a shoe on the path and turned. She hadn't seen anyone else get off at this stop, so she was curious, however nobody was behind her, nobody seemed to be around at all. She shook her head again, but the uneasiness stayed.

Stepping off the pavement so that she could peer round the corner of the old station house and the taxi rank beyond, she sighed. This time when she shook her head, it was out of anger. Trust there to be no taxis waiting. Her uncertainty at her solitude was gone, and only the stress of a long day made longer remained. Trying to take a few deep breaths to calm herself, she looked about for somewhere to sit. There was a bench at the other end of the station and a telephone box. It'd probably be best to phone for a taxi anyway, so she dragged her case round and started making her way back along the carpark.

Her beau was working away diligently and couldn't come and get her, and it didn't look like any taxis were either as she stepped slowly towards the benches. She sighed despondently and considered the journey ahead. If she had to walk it'd take her at the very least thirty minutes to get home and possibly more. Her luggage wasn't particularly heavy, but it was a cumbersome thing, and the jolts through her arm made it numb as she dragged it over the ground.

Suddenly her hair caught in something and there was the sharp pain across her scalp as it pulled. She stopped so it wouldn't tug anymore but the pain simply grew more intense and she realised it hadn't caught on anything, but was instead being used to drag her backwards. A sick feeling hit her stomach. She'd been so distracted by her own thoughts she hadn't been aware of her surroundings at all. Now all of her senses screamed out at the proximity of another person. She let go of her case so that she could reach back and try to loosen her attacker's grip. Instead she fell into darkness as she was pulled into the arched walkway to the platform. All of the things she'd been told to do in the event of such an attack fled her mind. But as she was propelled towards the wall by a forceful thrust she opened her mouth to cry out. The scream never escaped her lips, as the air in her lungs was expelled explosively when her ribs made contact with the wall. She fell to her knees gasping desperately for the breath that had been stolen for her. She was utterly immobilised, barely able to think as he got down on his knees behind her, humming a familiar tune. It almost calmed her but she heard his belt being undone and was very much aware of her vulnerability.

For a few moments there was nothing, just the stillness. But the spell was broken when she dragged in a ragged breath and then whimpered when pain flooded through her. She wished she could somehow gather that sound up and push it back into her mouth, for the moment it left her was the moment her came close to her.

All of a sudden his hands were all over her. The left gripped the nape of her neck, gathering her dress in its grip and forcing her face flat against the cold ground.

The right started scrabbling at her underwear, and when she made a sound of protest and finally began to fight him, he simply took hold of the fabric and in one jerk, tore her knickers straight off. She felt the material bite into her flesh before the seams gave way. Then there was nothing but the cold air pressing against her, and the torn remnants of her underwear tossed disdainfully near where he held her head down.

Unlike with a lover, there was no foreplay. Just one moment the coldness of the night air against her pussy, then the next, the hardness of him pressing against her.

For a second or two, he struggled. For although in some ways this was a fantasy, she hadn't expected it to happen and she was too caught up in the fear to be aroused. But he was insistent, and applied pressure until at last she gave way and the full length of his shaft slipped fully inside her. He groaned under his breath, provoking another sob from her, and then like a man crazed, drew himself out to the tip before plunging cruelly back inside her.

It almost seemed as if her senses were heightened at that point. The burning heat in her grazed knees, and the bite of the grit as he forced her head down.

His thrusts weren't meant for her pleasure, but each time he slammed his dick inside her, she felt the betrayal of her body adjusting to him and lubricating his future thrusts.

She'd spoken of this fantasy with her partner, and all of the feelings and emotions it would bring, but shame, shame had never been one of them. It was shame at her disgrace and shame at the fact that sob as she liked, he felt good inside her.

Her sobs and yelps played a counterpart to his grunts as he rode her with a ferocity she'd never been party to before. His hands were all over the place, not uncertain, more overly certain. His need was obvious. He wanted her, all of her, and he couldn't have enough of her at once. So she was subject to his clawing nails and rough digits as her manhandled her tender breasts or grabbed nastily at her buttocks. She tried to focus purely on the pain in her knees as they ground against the floor. She could feel the cuts and abrasions there. Who would focus on pain? Only someone hiding from the pleasure they felt. And she was sick with guilt as her stomach tumbled over an orgasm. His enjoyment was obvious as he felt it gush against him and he picked up his pace as her body opened to him. She felt him then, his body shook as he grabbed her by the waist and drove himself deep inside her, his hot cum bursting out from his thick cock.

As he pulled away from her, she felt the spill of warmth against her thighs as he stood and departed as suddenly as he had come.For him it was over, but she considered once again the journey she had to make and how it had changed. She stood and clutched the wall, looking down at the abused knees and frayed knickers. She reached down and picked them up. They were useless now, but tenderly she reached down to wipe his cum from the inside of her thighs. Stumbling back to her case which had been abandoned near the archway, her mind was blank until she saw the rose rested gently on top of her things. Yellow, her favourite. She picked it up and smelt it as her other hand slipped between her legs to touch the slickness there.

Just then a taxi pulled up and the cabbie called her name as he rolled his window down. "A'wight love? Your fella said you'd be exhausted and you'd need a lift. You a'wight?" He said again, and she realised how dishevelled she must look. "I'm fine" she grinned as she hefted her suitcase into boot and used the blind spot to re-position the hem of her dress.

"Just looking forward to getting home to my man" she finished, and as she got into the back, she hummed that familiar tune.