Night Shifts by Wilderness Cry

Night-ShiftsAs Carrie snuggled into Alan’s chest in the dark, enjoying their post-sex cuddle, she took a deep breath and declared that she was finally ready to confess – she did have a secret fantasy that she would love him to role-play for her. He waited for her to continue.

“When you’re on your week of night-shifts every month, I would love it if you could sometimes sneak home in your meal-breaks, without telling me when you’re going to do it. I want you to creep upstairs so quietly that you don’t wake me up, pull back the duvet, pin me down, and fuck me without any warning. I don’t want any foreplay. Don’t even undress properly. Just unzip your pants and stick it in me, and don’t say a word the whole time. When you’re done, just get up and leave. That’s my fantasy. So, what do you think?”

She held her breath waiting for his reaction, as he stroked her hair thoughtfully.

“It’s kind of a rape fantasy, isn’t it?”

She shrugged. “I guess. What do you think?”

“I like it!” he declared enthusiastically. “I might not be able to get away very often, but I’ll do my best, I promise.”

After a few moments, he asked her “Aren’t I the wrong man for this fantasy?”

“What do you mean?”

“Shouldn’t it be someone else who does it?”

She laughed. “No, that would be real rape, not fantasy rape.”

“Not if you wanted it. I mean, I’m not saying you do, but I read somewhere that most women are raped by men they know, so if it was someone you know and wanted, that would still be a fantasy, and more real than if it’s me. Do you see? I’m just not sure that your fantasy will work with you knowing it’s me, which would be a shame.”

“Well, I guess that would depend on who it was. If it was Fat George from next door, then god, no!” They both laughed.

“On the other hand, if it was some gorgeous hunky man I fancy, who just happens to break into the house and rape me in the middle of the night, then that would be truly amazing. Not that there is anyone else that I fancy and want to have raping me but you, obviously,” she added quickly, blushing a little.

“You see.” She continued, “fantasy is all about pretence. I will know that it’s really you, but as long as you don’t speak I’ll be able to pretend its Fat George, and that’s what will get me off.” They laughed again, and the discussion ended there.

She smiled to herself in the darkness, relieved that he had been so positive, and squeezed him tight.

By his third consecutive night-shift later that month, Carrie was exhausted. Eager anticipation had kept her awake on both of the previous nights until it was so late it was obvious he couldn’t make it. Then she had only managed a couple of hours sleep before she had to get up for work.

It seemed like the third night would be no different, until she heard the familiar sound of the key in the front door, magnified in the silent stillness of the night. Her stomach flipped in excitement. She was already wet between her thighs, where her hand had been firmly wedged all night, more in hope than expectation, but now it was happening!

She adjusted her position to make it easy for him, lying face down and facing to her right with her back to the door, she straightened her left leg and drew her right knee up towards her chest, so he could mount her easily from behind.

She concentrated on steadying her breathing, and pretended to be asleep, so she wouldn’t spoil the fantasy.

She heard the bedroom door glide open softly, and her stomach flipped over again, as her heart thumped loudly in her ears.

She almost jumped when she felt the duvet slowly moving away, exposing her naked body. The cool night air in the room, and the thrill of anticipation, gave her goose-bumps.

She heard his zip, and the thrill sent a shiver down her spine. Then she felt his weight at the bottom of the bed and moving up towards her.

She was now so wet that she was afraid he would realise she was awake, and that would spoil it, but there was nothing she could do.

One hand touched her shoulder lightly, and another drifted gently up the inside of her thigh as he found his way around her in the darkness. Her stomach fluttered. She wanted to scream at him to hurry up and fuck her. She could barely contain herself any longer. Then she felt his hand on her shoulder, pushing her down into her pillow, unable to move. Almost immediately, she felt his manhood pushing into her. At last, at last, at last…

His thrusts were slow and gentle initially, taking care not to tear her delicate skin, but his own needs quickly took over, and his pace soon became fast and vigorous. It was all she needed to push her over the edge and she turned her face towards her pillow to muffle her moans as she came. All too soon, she was aware of him stifling his own groans as he came inside her. Then he was gone, but not before covering his ‘rape victim’ with the duvet again, so she didn’t get cold. He was so sweet.

The following evening, they talked about their first experience of her fantasy, and agreed it was so good they should do it again as often as they could. ‘Often’ turned out to be only once in every week of night-shifts as a rule, but with an occasional second treat. After the first couple of times her fantasy became complete; she found that she was drifting off to sleep normally and would be unaware of his presence until he was suddenly on top of her, holding her down and ‘violating’ her. She loved it.

Sometimes she would cum when he fucked her. On other occasions, she would finish herself off after he had gone. From time to time, she would wake up on her back with his hand clamped over her mouth. She would pretend to fight him, forcing him to use his superior strength and weight to control her while he fucked her. She always came first on those nights.

One night she woke suddenly, unsure if she had heard a noise. She listened carefully in the darkness. Nothing. She needed the bathroom, and slipped out of bed, naked. As she emerged from the bathroom she was suddenly grabbed from behind and pushed up against the wall. She cried out in shock and panic. Strong hands pulled her arms behind her back and she felt her wrists being tied together. Her attacker grabbed a handful of her hair, making her whimper again, and marched her roughly into her bedroom.

She was flung face down onto the bed, and felt a hand pressing down heavily on her pelvis. She struggled and thrashed, but he was too strong and heavy, and with her arms tied she was helpless. His legs were between hers, and she knew what was going to happen. His fingers probed roughly inside her, and she became wet, despite herself. She continued to struggle, moaning ‘no, stop, please don’t’, but he ignored her. Her strength and energy finally failed her as he withdrew his fingers and forcefully pushed himself inside her. She gasped, and surrendered to the violation, unable to stop him using her, as he thrusted into her aggressively until he was done.

He released the binding on her wrists before pulling out of her, and then he was gone. She lay still for a while, then rolled onto her back, smiling, as her fingers slowly travelled down her body to stroke herself. She sighed contentedly as she came, and drifted off to sleep.

A few weeks later, it was the last night of a series of night shifts. Alan hadn’t been able to get away at all that week, and this was their last chance for another month. She had drunk two or three glasses of wine and was deep asleep, lying on her front, when he crept in. She was suddenly aware of her face being forced down into her pillow, so that she struggled a little to breathe. His hand was on the back of her head and neck, and his legs were trapping hers. She struggled, but it was hopeless. She was instantly wet for him.

She managed to wriggle one hand down in front of her and reached her clit, just as he forced her legs apart, and probed her roughly with his fingers. His fingertips found her G-spot, rubbing firmly, and she just melted. Her whole body seemed to quiver and pulse as she orgasmed in a matter of moments. The fingers withdrew, and she lay panting, eagerly awaiting the hard cock that was about to violate her. His fingers held her soaked pussy lips apart and she felt the cock nudging between them. Suddenly, he rammed his full length into her in one violent lunge.

That was the moment she realized something was wrong; dreadfully wrong. The cock now thrusting aggressively into her was much longer and thicker than Alan’s. It was stretching her wider than ever before and slamming into her cervix every time it penetrated her. This man was not Alan. She was really being raped!

She tried to struggle, but she could barely move. She had no choice but to just lie there and let this man use her. After the initial shock, her body took over, and she realised that it was responding to the brutal fucking she was taking. She was tingling all over, and her pussy was throbbing. She could feel her own juices running out of her and couldn’t help rubbing her clit until a huge prolonged orgasm exploded through her and she cried out in ecstasy. To keep her pinned down as he continued violating her, her attacker laid down on top of her, pressing his weight onto her back, his face close behind hers. That was when she recognized him!

It was Richie, her husband’s best friend. He was a big muscular man, a fireman, and she fancied him like crazy. She always had, since before she had met Alan, but somehow, they had never got together, even though she knew he also fancied her. She often fantasised about him fucking her when she was having sex with Alan, and now he really was. He was huge, and powerful, and relentless. She was overcome with relief. Her husband would go berserk, but this was ecstasy. It was crazy. How was this happening?