A Date – SFCityDom © 2006

 

It is 11:30PM Saturday evening. A cab rolls to a stop in front of a residential building containing a well-dressed couple returning from a night on the town. She is in a black cocktail dress, black stockings, and black heels, while he is dressed in a classic dark suit.

 

He pays the driver and gets out of the cab. Offering her his hand, he helps her out on to the sidewalk. The brightly lit lobby of the building is visible from the street. She makes her way to the entry, retrieves her keys from her purse, and opens the front door. As he follows her into the lobby, his eyes drift down to the gentle but intentional sway of her hips.

 

As she turns towards him, he swiftly grabs her by the throat and forces her against the wall. For a moment, he looks at her at arms length. Her eyes flit about, scanning him, and then fill with fear. He moves in on her, pressing his weight against her.

 

“Not a fucking word!” The sound of a switchblade opens, punctuates his words as if thunder.

 

“Don’t fucking move!”

 

Sliding the blade up her thigh and under her dress, he passes it under her g-string and across the smooth lips of her cunt. He cuts through her g-string at the crotch. Closing the blade, he returns it to his pocket. With her by the throat, he pulls her away from the wall and forces her backwards. Opening the door to the trash room, he pushes her in, enters, and lets the door close loudly behind him.

 

He throws her against the recycling bins, rushes her, and grabs her by the hair. Pulling violently, he bends her back over the bins. She struggles against him.

 

“What are you doing? Stop it.” She cries out.

 

“I told you, not a fucking sound.”

 

Turning her, he forces her face down across the lid of the bin. She again tries to struggle free. Grabbing her by the hair, he presses his forearm across her back, pinning her down and with his free hand pulls his cock from his pants. Again, she struggles.

 

“Please don’t do this. Pleeease.” She begins to cry.

 

“I can’t turn back.”

 

Taking his cock in hand, he thrusts hard and forcefully into her cunt. She bucks, with his insertion, and struggles. The thrust pushes her against the bin.

 

The sound of footsteps can be heard from the lobby, someone has entered the stairwell. He slows his thrusting and wraps his hand across her mouth. Her screams and pleads can barely be heard from underneath his grasp. The footsteps are now landing on the tile floor of the lobby. The foyer door opens and someone exits. With in moments the scent of sulfur followed by the smell of cigarette smoke fills the air.

 

With the smoker retreating into the night, he returns to thrusting hard. Placing his hand around her throat, he begins to squeeze as he seals her mouth and nose. A minute passes; he removes his hand from her mouth. She gasps for air and let’s out a moan. As he fucks her hard, she attempts to reach back to strike him.

 

“Please! Stop!”

 

Pulling her upright by the hair, “You have wanted this all night.”

 

He can sense that she is close to coming. Again, he covers her nose and mouth and squeezes her throat tightly. She struggles in response.

 

Without a breath or a moan, she begins to come, convulsing and squeezing his cock hard. Then her cunt suddenly releases its grip on him. The color has left her skin and her body goes limp as consciousness fades from her. Releasing her throat, he removes his hands from her mouth and takes hold of her by her hair. The only thing keeping her from crashing to the floor is the recycling bin and his grasp.

 

By the hair, he turns her and slaps her across her face. “I am not finished.”

 

With her gasping and moaning, he forces her to her knees. Before she is fully conscious, he shoves his cock into her gasping mouth. She is trembling and struggling, as he fucks her mouth. The sound of footsteps can be heard as the smoker returns, and as the front doors opens he begins to fill her mouth with his cum. With his cock deep, he waits for the sound of the footsteps to go silent.

 

He pulls his cock from her mouth and places it back into his pants. Giving her his hand, he helps her to her feet. The air is filled with the obscene scent of sex and the smell of trash. They leer at each other as if opponents finishing in a tie. With her in hand, they return to the lobby and make their way upstairs.

 

“You know, when you wear that dress, I can’t help fucking you at the first opportunity.”

 

“I know. Why do you think I wear it?”

 

“Brat!”