The Store Room Floor - Sex Stories

The Store Room Floor

THE STORE ROOM FLOOR The beautiful young woman had fought valiantly but now, bloodied and beaten, she lay motionless on the store room floor in defeat as her attacker finished the task of stripping her. Her blouse had already been torn open and spread aside, her bra shoved up around her neck, fully exposing her breasts to the ravishing eyes of her assailant who was now unzipping her tight fitting jeans and pulling them off the swell of her curvaceous hips. Her defiance shattered, she now sobbed audibly—tears streaming down her checks—as she helplessly felt her pants being tugged roughly down her legs—legs that until just moments ago had been kicking in wild protest, but which now remained still in exhaustion and resignation. With her pants now out the way, her assailant turned his attention to the young woman’s thong panties, which covered only the barest minimum of the intimate juncture of her thighs. Feeling the man’s hands grip the strings of the panties that circled her hips, the young woman mounted a renewed protest, beating at the man’s hands with her fists. Cursing, the man slapped her face viciously, causing her head to twist violently to the side. This caused her arms to drop to the floor beside her prone body, her fingers uncurling from the fists that she had made, and again she was motionless. Nevertheless, her attacker took her chin in his hand and turned her face upward so that he could slap the other cheek, causing her head to flop to the that side. Blood now ...

... flowed from her nostrils and the corners of her mouth in more than just trickles. She offered no further resistance as her attacker, now unimpeded, impatiently ripped the silk panties from her body, tearing the flimsy thing to shreds in the process as the young woman cried out in despair. She was totally naked now save for the ruined blouse that covered only her shoulders, and the delicate bra that adorned her neck like a scarf. She stirred only slightly on the storeroom floor as her attacker now stood above her and slowly began to remove his own clothes. It had been closing time. Not a single customer had come into Marcela’s clothing boutique for the last hour, and she was ready to close shop and call it a night. Her boyfriend had promised to prepare dinner for her at her apartment that night, and she was looking forward to the bottle of Shiraz that he said he was bringing. She had been in the back storeroom of the small store and was about to switch off the lights where the bell on the front door jingled, indicating that someone had entered the boutique. Her first reaction was exasperation, as she really wanted to get home and relax. But then her business sense got the better of her and she approached the customer who had just come in. Might make a few bucks today after all. The man did not look like her typical customer. Not that he was a guy—lots of guys came in to her boutique to buy for their wives or girlfriends. And it wasn’t just because this guy looked nervous—lots of ...