The Store Room Floor - Sex Stories

The Store Room Floor

... shattered. Her vision was badly blurred from tears and from swelling due to the beating she had just received, but she could see that her attacker had stood and was loosening the belt to his pants. She tried to roll to her side but the man put a bare foot on her shoulder and with it pushed her back onto her back. Her head swung listlessly from one side to the other on the floor, blood from her nose and mouth staining several of the many women’s garments that littered the floor. Her legs stirred lethargically. The man’s pants fell to his feet which were planted inside the young woman’s ankles. His penis, invigorated by the fight shown by his victim and the vision of her now laying at his feet, was bulging from his boxers. He quickly dropped the shorts and allowed his manhood to unfurl completely. It stood at attention as he looked down upon the nude body of his conquered prey. She was smoking hot, he thought, especially with blood and snot caking her face. Her ripe, young body was magnificent in its nakedness as it squirmed beneath him on the floor: athletic and well-toned, but with all the essential feminine curves. She was indeed the complete package. He had chosen well. His patience in stalking her and waiting until the right moment to strike was about to pay big dividends in the form of the best piece of ass he had ever had, he was sure of that. The man kicked Marcela’s legs apart and knelt between them. She moaned and cried out softly as she felt his weight come upon her ...

... again, only this time it his bare skin against her bare skin. “No,” came the soft whimper from her throat. The man lowered his head to her face. “No, what, sweetie?” She didn’t respond. Her face tightened in a grimace and she began to cry harder. “No, what, honey?” His voice was soft. Concerned. He carefully studied her face, caked in blood, sweat, snot and tears, and ran his fingers through her long, straw blonde hair. “No, as in, ‘don’t fuck me’?” “Please….” was the only word she could muster, and it seemed to die before leaving her lips. “Sorry, sweetie. I haven’t beaten the crap out of you just so I can go home now and masturbate.” His voice was that of a patient parent reasoning with an uncooperative child. “Sometimes we’ve got to go things we don’t want to do…and right now you’ve got to fuck me, sweetie, you understand?” “No,” she whimpered. “Please leave me alone…” Her voice trailed off in the helplessness she felt. “Sorry, sweetie,” he whispered in her ear softly. “You’re getting fucked.” With that, her attacker wasted no further time. Kicking the young woman’s legs yet wider apart, he mounted her, his hand guiding his hardened manhood between her parted thighs. When she felt the thing nose aside the lips of her vagina, she remonstrated meekly, and got her face slapped for the umpteenth time. The blow was to her face, but reverberated throughout her entire being to the extent that every part of her body was awakened, allowing her to acutely feel the penetration of her ...