Jersey Excursion Ch. 02

Chapter 2 -- Lynn is caught

How Lynn wound up in this situation is worth noting in Ch. 1.

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"Well, well, well," a thick, brogue English accent bellowed, echoing down the stairs. "What do we have here?"

Lynn was already startled by the interruption, but the brash and loud voice nearly sent her into a state of panic. Lynn said nothing, remaining motionless. She heard a shifting behind her and then silence; soon followed by another invitation of response:

"What's a hot little thing like you doing bent over the rail on the stairs...all by herself...Hmmm?"

Remembering her plan Lynn started, "I've just walked up and am not feeling well. "Think I have the stomach flu," she added, hoping this would be enough to scare off further interaction.

"I'll be off to my room in just a moment. I'm OK, thanks for asking," Lynn mumbled, in her mind the conclusion of the interchange all but certain.

But the man did not go. There was another shifting noise and then a pause. The "interchange," as she was about to find out, was far from over.

The voice continued, "From where I'm sitting you've a funny place for your hands... 'avin the flu and all." The tone was not playful, it was diagnostic.

Lynn was exasperated; she peeked down between the red V formed by the boots. 'Oh my god,' she thought to herself, seeing the chest down image of a large man crouched only inches behind her, centered in the frame of what she couldn't deny were her seductively spread legs. She realized how she must look.

In reality her attire was common in Jersey Land...there were women young and old in tights, tall spike heeled boots, and long jackets all over the place. So this attire could fit in easily...as long as nobody knew there was nothing under the coat, AND you weren't caught frigging yourself over a rail on the stairs.

She could make out the man was wearing a sweat suit. His chiseled body hardly hidden underneath the flexible fabric pulled tightly against his thighs, chest, and crotch. She sighed, unable to disregard the noticeably large bulge there, the only thing stopping her from turning around to see his face.

Lynn also couldn't help but notice the insignia of her favorite Football team on the jacket, Chelsea. She remembered the team was playing exhibition in the North East U.S over the holidays.

'Is it possible?' she thought to herself. 'Is this one of the young players on my favorite team?'

She didn't have much time to ponder this. Without intent her view refocused on her posture, her hand resting between her legs pressing out her translucent hose in bas-relief. The fabric so tight it accentuated the fact her fingers were attending her vulva. Not to mention the oversized coat was hanging low in the front and he undoubtedly was getting an eye full - not just of her sodden spread, but also of her exposed breasts underneath.

Lynn went silent clenching her eyes shut in embarrassment. She wanted to run down the stairs, turn and kick the intruder, flee to her room, anything to be from this place...this horrible and stupid escapade. But before she could get her body to move he was on her.

"'And those are some nice big tits you have hanging there my little lamb," he said as he took the opportunity to stick his arm up the coat and squeeze her breasts, lightly pinching her nipples.

Lynn didn't know what was happening. Her brain was screaming for her to run, but the second the intruder touched her the knot in her stomach screamed for release. The thought that this was a handsome and fit young star she watched on overseas television not helping quell the feeling.

"Ahhhh...cheers little girl," the voice went on, softer now.

"These suck me's are so hard they'll cut diamonds, yah?" he chuckled, squeezing harder now, roughly rubbing with his palms pushing Lynn's breasts into her chest.

Lynn knew she should be saying something to halt this, but she couldn't get the words out of her mouth. She was trying so hard to inject an intervention, knowing the hormone ridden athlete would take her silence and immobility as a green light to continue. And that's just what he did.

With his available hand he pressed on the crotch of her tights, directly over her stilled hand underneath. He lightly pressed her fingers against and into her slit. He rubbed up and down at a slow, deliberate pace. As Lynn realized she had been holding her breath for the last minute, another moan escaped her lips. She started to protest her own vocalization:

"Mmmmm...gasp...it's time for me to go..." but the intruder interrupted,

"I think I know what the problem is miss, I'll have ya fixed up in a jif, yah," he urged definitively as a garage mechanic knowing the easy solve might.

Lynn felt her body slump as she exhaled deeply. Her mind still resisted the thought of what was playing out, but her body sank back to the intense thought of Suzie's story of being used in an alleyway -- then sank deeper. Rushing back seventy thousand days ago; when as a young woman she herself imagined being surprised, ravished...taken.

He grabbed her right wrist and withdrew her hand from its warm mantle. As it was pulled free into the air it chilled quickly, soaked with Lynn's fluids. The stranger pulled her arm up and behind her, making an unseen show of drawing the scent from her palm.

She could feel the wafts of air generated by his deep inhalations. Her hand had to be just in front of his face. In this position Lynn was immobilized and now getting scared.

The stranger began licking her palm and fingers occasionally emanating "mmms," and low growls, obviously pleased with her smell and taste. Lynn battled with the fact this was relaxing her. Enticing her in its way. His acceptance, more accurately his obvious hunger for her, was just what the doctor ordered for the 'lack of desirability' disorder she had been experiencing with her husband.

Satisfied he had captured every drop she held, he pushed her hand up next to her head, placing it on the cold rail and wrapping her fingers around it. Noticing no resistance he encouraged,

"That's perfect little miss...just relax and do as I say and I'm sure you'll find the procedure not entirely unpleasant."

Then he grabbed her hair in a mussed, temporary pony tail and lifted gently, using his left hand to pull her cushioning arm from underneath Lynn's head and placing her other hand on the rail in the same way.

This left the affect of Lynn's throat over the rail between her hands, her legs still spread, her scarlet boots signaling, demanding, to take what lay just above. The only thought making it through her mind at this point was to thank God she had at least worn the hose.

But she was again distracted by the sensation of the boot tops rubbing across her thighs. This half dressed feeling kept the fire in her burning like she was being wantonly ravished in the back seat of a car as a teenager. Part of her wanted this desire extinguished immediately. But the thought of being craved beyond control by a literally perfect young stranger trickled and lingered like sweet molasses, and she felt her senses heightening even more.

He spoke again.

"That's a nice ring, a big rock on your finger. You looking for a little thrill whilst the hubby's off at play are ya?" He asked in a straight tone.

Lynn was shocked, for the first time aware his moving her left hand from under her head revealed her status. And his words...they were the very thought she'd had earlier. But, as the good wife, she had decided to play it out harmlessly and alone as both her husband and friend suggested. She was unable to respond.

The man pressed closer and his tone became slightly amused.

"Simple questions deserve simple answers then, my tawdry MISSSSESSS..." he said with a quiet laugh, drawing out the word that tagged her, further sensationalizing what was happening here.

Lynn couldn't breathe, let alone answer.

"Have it your way then," he said, putting his left hand on the back of her neck and holding it hovering over the rail, her hands equally pinned and grasping it with this simple and light constraint. Lynn could tell this specimen of a man was hardly showing his true strength, yet she may as well have been in a stockade.

With his right hand he lifted the coat such that her ass and pussy were in the open covered only by the sheer hose. Her legs were still spread, nether regions hoisted up by the boots, directly in front of him.

There was no delay, a hard slap stung Lynn's left ass cheek, then her right, and then two more in quick succession on each side. The slaps weren't light and loving. They were sharp and quick and they stung, heating up her backside that had started to cool without cover of the coat.

"Mmmph, mmmph, oh, mmmmph, stop, mmmph" was all she could get out during the series of strikes.

"Right then," came the voice as he softly caressed her fiery buttocks she suddenly realized would be reddened by his infliction.

'Oh fuck,' she thought, 'how am I going to explain this...'

But there was not time for more of that thought train. His hand quickly scooped between her legs where he paused,

"This little married cunt is so wet your stockings are dripping. Such a shame to soil a new set, luv. We'll just have to do something about that," he finished as she felt his hand slide slowly and deliberately upwards through the crevice of her displayed bottom, away from her swelling slit, then removing it altogether. Lynn heard a clicking sound but didn't recognize it.

She opened her eyes and peered down the stairwell, able to see the three flights directly below her. It was silent, vacant...and the hum of the hotel began to lull her again in this brief moment.

"You stay just like that Misses, I've got just the medicine you need for that upset stomach. So hold still, if you let go of that rail before I tell you I'll make that round little ass even redder than it already is. Understand?"

Lynn kept staring down the well, struggling to decipher what this stranger was trying to tell her until,

SMACK SMACK, two more blows directly on her ass. As she recoiled his hand pressed slightly harder on her neck, grasping her hair in the process.

"Understand?" he reiterated more sternly.

She closed her eyes again and whimpered, "Yes."

"Good little tart," she heard him say under his breath.

As the knave removed his hand from her neck she suddenly felt a tug between her legs. This pull was not on her person but on the crotch of her panty hose. He was pulling down sharply at the apex between her legs.

This was a clumsy and awkward way to try to remove the hose. Knowing there was no way it would work Lynn began to feel some relief that this youngster had no idea what he was doing, that she would be able to get herself out of this predicament now. But she didn't have time to assert herself.

The tugging created a vacuum that drew the cold air in, swishing round her erect clit and swollen labia. Lynn tried to stand upright with this stimulation, her belly knot tightening and her clit quivering in the rush of cold air.

"No..." she started to say lifting up slightly; but the hand returned to her neck pressing down with equal force halting her ascent. The hose snapped back against her clit and engorged lips without warning sending an intense jolt through her entire body. It beckoned something into reality she could neither believe nor deny. A small climax rippled through her belly and torso, making her arms and legs shake.

"Ohhhh," came from her now open mouth...."oh no, oh noooooooo...," then

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK -- the alternating blows even sharper this time, surely leaving outlines of his spread fingers. Lynn grunted with each blow and relented.

"You don't follow instruction too well yet my little vixen. Stay still. Almost done on this part."

Lynne buckled under his hand and froze again. He pulled the crotch of the hose away as before and she could feel the warmth escaping her opening, in the small area of nylon separated from her skin. Then she heard it. SNIP...SNIP...SNIP... SNIP, as the crotch and backside was cut away from her panty hose.

Without delay she felt a cold face inside her legs. It was not gentle or soothing or kind. It was deliberate as a dog would be cleaning out a dish.

He sniffed and growled as he had cleaning her hand. But it was louder now, more intent. He ran a long, smooth tongue from atop her clit and over, tracing backward deeply through her folds, and then upward, pausing to probe her secret star. Lynn's brain was now getting in on the act.

It suggested resistance wasn't really an option, the better tack would be to just get this over with. After all - she wasn't cheating, she was being forced...and so far it wasn't too bad an experience.

As his tongue repeated the journey several more times her tensed body pushed her sex out further, her knot tightened again. Her pussy, now boiling for real release, responded dutifully and unmercifully; almost gushing more fluid onto the strangers lashing tongue.

Lynn began moaning and whimpering. She didn't mean to, but she couldn't stop herself. Her hands were no longer content to just steady her display, but trying to rock her holes closer to the stranger's mouth. This did not go unnoticed.

Using both hands on her ass he spread her sex wide. Now his tongue had full access to every corner and crevice, her clit dangling completely unshielded. As he thoroughly bathed and flickered each part of her in unpredictable order he moaned and hummed into her sweet flesh.

Lynn was now sobbing quietly, "Please, yes. Yes, oh please, yes."

The rogue picked up his pace feeling the impending climax. As Lynn began to quiver, soft "ohhhs" and "ummms" escaped her. As they became louder, the visiting Chelsea player could feel her letting go -- no longer trying to hide her reaction - strongly forcing her sex into his face. Feeling her on the verge he abruptly halted his action...taking her breath away.

"NO NO NO!" cried Lynn, humping at the chilled air, almost reaching back to pull his head to her but remembering she already had enough crimson to hide.

"No what then, strumpet?" The scoundrel replied.

Lynn couldn't stop now. She was so close. Quick flashing so many memories of having her way in this situation, no longer caring if the stranger caught on to her desire. Her husband had left her in this state, encouraging her, after all, to put herself in such a situation.

"Don't stop...I need it. I NEED it," she whimpered, trying to hush her words.

"What is it you need then, my sweet married tart?"

That word , "married" stopped her - but as if this maniac spent his life on staircases for just such opportunities he flicked her clit rapidly back and forth with his hot tongue, asking again,

"What do you need my naughty girl?"

Lynn's feet were almost jumping off her platform shoes. Her brain lingered for a moment on her husband, but her body and mouth, now fully betraying her, had other ideas.

"I need to cum!" Please, let me cum!!!"

In less than an instant she felt the stranger rise, his hand again on the back of her neck, his other pushing his sweat pants down to his knees.

The hot skin atop a rigid cock rubbed against her perineum, spreading dewy cream in the small space between Lynn's opening and the entry to her forbidden zone. In slow motion he moved forward, slowly slicing her. His shaft forced her folds open and now maintained constant contact against the rim of her hole, her most private and sensitive area.

He was deliberately coating his long member with her flowing juices. His crown flickered back, forth, aside and over her bud fully released by its hood, already on the verge of exploding. The intensity the young man was building was too much.

"OH FUCK!" Lynn exclaimed.

"As you would 'ave it, MISSES," he responded with almost polite indifference - though dragging out and emphasizing the last word.

It began. The stranger poised his throbbing cock to her upturned crevice positioned perfectly by her heeled boots. His cock was leaking warm precum that added to her own inviting flow. He slowly inserted himself, as a carefully as a full bee in honeysuckle.

Not stroking. Not pounding. Slowly and gently pushing in with purpose. Centimeter by centimeter he entered for what seemed several minutes...until finally his full length was buried inside her.

Lynn could feel the pulsing head reaching in, past her cervix, into or beside her womb - she couldn't tell - but his throbbing helmet was exactly where her knot lay, and at least 4 inches around. His balls nestling under Lynn's clit, his pelvis shifting slightly left to right and back, his iron stomach pressed against her ass -- as her fuck me boots displayed her stretched and stuffed gash in front of him.

His palm cupped the underside of her neck now, gently lifting upward.

Lynn's entire body started a mesmerizing vibration, she was cumming. But never like this before, motionless in a cold, unnatural, out of control place. Time stopped. Lynn stood captured, handled by her throat, impaled on his lingering meat. She had never felt such intensity. Maybe it was the shame, guilt, or helplessness. Whatever it was, she had never felt such fire within.

As her mind tried to remind this was only supposed to be fantasy, Lynn's body contorted. She arched her back as if trying to touch the floor with her belly and the ceiling with her ass. She heard the words, "Oh God...Oh Fuck yes...Oh please fuck it..." echo in the stair well, without the slightest recognition those words and accompanying cries and grunts were her own.

Her brain was no longer willing to come up with rationale or excuse -- her mouth flowing lust, the only feeling left in her.

Her eyes screwed shut, her pussy contracting -- releasing -- and contracting again on this large, velvety cock similar to her husband's, but doing such different things. The underlying buzz of the hotel seemed to grow louder and stronger, coinciding with her orgasm that was already happening yet somehow still building inside her.

The stranger slowly withdrew leaving her empty and craving when he asked it,

"Just a big ringed little slut needing a proper fucking...yah?"

Lynn, zapped back into reality at just the wrong time gasped at being called a slut. And gasped again the next instant, internalizing she couldn't argue the point in the situation she had put herself in. But she tried...

"I'm ...not... a...slut," she offered meekly, but still breathing so hard the words had pause between them. Unconvinced by them herself, Lynn thought it should be Suzie here, not her. But it was far too late to impress an alternative explanation to the opinionated young man.

"Then we'll stop then, shall we?"

No answer.

"Right!"

He struck.

His soft touch evaporated. His hand fled her throat and grabbed the hair on the back of her head jerking up. He began pushing and pulling with flurry; in and out of her spasming hole from tip to hilt.

He pushed down on her head until Lynn's throat made contact with the rail. Then he removed his hand from her neck and with both wrenched the coat over her head turning it inside out, casting it over the balcony rail.

Lynn's arms, still in the sleeves, captured the coat in that position. The weight of her husband's heavy leather jacket created the feeling of being lightly choked by the rail. Her head was now encased in darkness with a metal bar pressed across her throat. Without sight what was happening came into clearer focus though her other senses. Her pendulous breasts thrust forth and back so fast the momentum was opposite her young hammer's direction.

This juxtaposed movement created too much sensation for her mind to handle. The air circulating around her stimulated every centimeter of exposed skin, she was imploding with the intensity, breathlessly silent, near to passing out.