Night shift - Sex Stories

Night shift

... it seemed as if it took forever. There was no one waiting. "Hey, where are you?" Empty landing. Even the door keeper was missing. The only response she got was the silence, the silence at her own head. The invisible echo slapped her. The wind was howling on the other side of the door, as if mocking her. She looked around in a state of confusion and with a budding despair at her bosom. She bit her lips so that she would not scream out in disappointment and rage. It seemed as if she has swallowed an insipid cocktail of those sentiments and that made her feel sick. "What kind of insanity is this? I have to check my head after..." And those were her last words because in that instant, someone's hand clamped her mouth. Another hand grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head back. She was forced to drop down on her knees. It wasn't really all that difficult for the unfamiliar, dark figure to gain complete control over her body. The woman was left without any will to struggle and was burning with desire. She half expected him to put a soft blindfold on her eyes. But that was hardly necessary, the darkness and her own anxiety worked just fine. All she heard was a sound of a zipper pulled down and in the next moment the ghost was already strangling her all the way to her throat with his thrusting penis. She was drowning and suffocating. Her tongue instinctively began to draw letters all over his shaft. His fingernails clung tightly to her back, leaving red scars all over it. ...

... The slight, craftily caused pain drove her additionally crazy. He had complete control over her leaking body. He could strangle her. He could fuck her brains off. He could make her beg and crawl. Entirely by his design. And she was completely submissive, a tool in his hands. If he wanted, he could tear her apart and ravish her in the most brutal and violent way. And that submission didn't disgust her at all. If only her hands were free she would dig them in his ass so she could push him even further down her throat and feel his hardness. That damned anonymous ghost! Then she realized her hands were tightened up behind her back and locked in a pair of handcuffs. Real ones. There were no puffs on them, unlike those cheap imitation toys at the sex shops. The saliva was dripping down her chin while he was fucking her mouth skilfully. His fingers were digging in her sweaty wet hair and against her scalp. He was conducting her movements as if he was really orchestrating. Fellatio symphony. The ridiculous thought passed through her frenzied brain. Suddenly he pulled her abruptly by the hair, he slapped her face a few times with his cock and made her stand up so he could taste her lips as well as his own taste remained in her spit. His sharp nails were scratching her back quite skilfully and his teeth were leaving purple marks on her trembling neck. "Don't yell." The velvet voice didn't reveal any of the hellish arousal she could feel in his feverish gestures. "Just one sound and ...