Sir Nigel is destroyed by the karate skills of his pregnant mistress who he has publicly dumped. Aroused, she forces Jim to service her
This is based on a true story of a British government minister who publicly left his pregnant mistress, Sara Keays, to save his political career. The TV news bulletins showed pictures of her in karate gear with a black belt. Unfortunately I couldn’t find any such images on the web. This is what should have happened 🙂
This story also introduces my sister in-law.
The following story contains descriptions of sex and violence. If you are offended by this or if you are under the legal age of consent in your country do not read on.
(c)JIM P 1995
Craziness – I’ve got to have craziness in my life or I’ll go mad.
“Reg, its Bert here. Bob and Jack are here in the nick” duty sergeant Bert Philips spoke into the telephone. “Yeah. Jenkins brought them in last night but hasn’t charged them yet. No, they’re in no condition to talk. Looks like Bob has been hit by a steamroller. OK I’ll see to it that they don’t say a word, bye”. Philips put down the phone and opens a drawer. He takes out an empty hypodermic and places it in his pocket. He then heads towards the cells. He stops at the cell with the name Bob Allingsworth outside, unlocks the door and enters. On the cell bed is a figure wrapped in a blanket facing the wall. He takes out the syringe and approaches. He reaches out to find an arm, the figure turns and grabs Bert’s hand. The face of detective Michael Jenkins looks up at him and smiles as he says “You’re in it real deep Philips”.
Councillor Reginald Cole thought hard for a moment and then hit the intercom to speak to the temporary secretary that had started that morning. “Yvonne, get me Sir Nigel Forbes-Willington, the junior minister for Law and Order”. “Yes sir” WPC Yvonne Wilkinson got the number and then called Detective Jenkins.
Corruption is like a weed, one must dig it out by the roots or it will grow again. I had hoped that the arrest of his stooges would panic Cole to go to his co-conspirators and I wasn’t disappointed.
I caught the train to London and made my way to Forbes-Willington’s luxury Mayfair home. It was an impressive white Georgian terraced house, 3 stories high. In front of me a tall sophisticated looking woman in her mid-forties started to walk up the steps to the front porch. I followed her, immediately noticing how her slender calves flexed and bulged with well toned muscle. I find muscular calves on a woman very sexy, and this was no exception. Their sexiness was enhanced by being sheathed in black nylons and emphasised by black high heels. As she reached the top of the steps she noticed me following and waited for me. She was about 5’10” with a slender build. Short light brown, slightly greying, hair was cut to expose a lot of her forehead. Her oval face had a look of a serious no-fun middle class professional career woman with thick eyebrows, penetrating brown eyes, a long slender nose and a wide mouth. She wore a severe executive business woman suit – white blouse, steel grey jacket and matching knee-length skirt (with a slit up the back). Over her shoulder she wore a small black leather handbag and in her hand she carried a neatly folded newspaper.
“May I help you?” she enquired in what I thought was a rather snotty attitude. “Not really, I’ve come to see Sir Nigel” I replied. “Well I am Sarah Dean, Sir Nigel’s personal aide and he doesn’t see members of the public without an appointment” she told me. I took out a business card from my top jacket pocket and handed it to her. “Jim Priest’s the name. I am a private detective and wish to speak to Sir Nigel concerning a councillor Reginald Cole and a Lady Helen Windthorpe” I said. She smiled and told me “Oh I’ll make sure he will answer your questions, Mr.Priest”. She opened her handbag and took out a key, unlocked the door, opened it and entered. I followed her into a long grandly furnished hall.
A man, probably Sir Nigel’s valet met us partway down the hall. “You have the rest of the day off, Hawkins. You may leave the house immediately” she instructed. “Yes ma’am” he replied and with a glance at me, headed towards the front door.
I followed the woman, still admiring her calves as they bunched and bulged as she walked, into an elaborately decorated reception room. Standing by the ornate fireplace stood Sir Nigel, a man full of confidence of the power and wealth he had over ordinary common people. “Sarah – and who is this?” he demanded. “This is Mr. Priest” she told him “he is a private detective and has some questions that you will answer”. I caught the steely tone of her voice that matched her phrasing. “I have nothing to say. Kindly leave or my valet will throw you out” he told me. “I’ve given Hawkins the rest of the day off. We are alone in the house and you will answer the questions” Sarah insisted.
She nodded to me and I took this as my cue “Why did you order the release of Lady Helen Windthorpe?”. His eyes went wide and he seemed to whiten “I – I – GET OUT!” he shouted.
“If you won’t explain that right now, perhaps you will explain this!” the woman said angrily and threw down the newspaper onto a coffee table in the middle of the room. I noticed the headline “Minister leaves pregnant mistress, returns to wife”.
Sir Nigel faced Sarah “I am a family man, I must put my family first”. “You didn’t think that until the Prime Minister decided on a family morals campaign!” Sarah retorted angrily. “I’m sorry Sarah, but it’s all over” he replied. “Oh yes, typical man, get his mistress pregnant and then when it comes to leaving his wife, he backs down. Well I’m not letting you get off the hook that easily” she shouts.
“You can have it terminated” “WHAT!” she cries. “You will be provided for of course. I do care” he replies. “If that’s the case why plaster the story all over the newspapers!. Those reporters are making my life hell!” she shouts. “I have nothing more to say. You can leave now” he retorts.
“Well I haven’t finished with you. You arrogant bastard!.” she screams. I watched in amazement as this sophisticated looking woman jumped and swung her right leg right up in a graceful high kick that brings her leg right up fully extended against her chest. Her skirt rides up high to expose long sexy thighs encased in sheer black stockings and suspenders. What a beautiful sight!. Unfortunately for him, Sir Nigel’s head was in the path of the kick and his head is snapped back savagely causing him to stagger backwards into an ornament cabinet, knocking it over and smashing its porcelain contents.
“No man ditches me and gets away with it” she yells “and no man publicly humiliates me without being severely punished”. “My antiques” Sir Nigel cries “You silly cow. Now I’ll have to teach you a lesson”.
He walks towards her with a determined look on his face and takes a swing at her. She ducks and he punches air. He sees her come up, pivot on her left foot, the movement of her skirt as she lifts her right leg to pile-drive her foot into his gut. Badly winded, he doubles up and staggers backwards under the force of the kick. “No, I’ll be the one teaching you a lesson” he hears her say. He looks up to see her leg rising, her skirt hitching up to reveal a glimpse of stocking top, before her foot slams into his face. With blood trickling from his mouth, he is sent stumbling back and trips over the coffee table.
“Didn’t I tell you that I used to be the women’s Karate champion at University ?” she calmly informs him as she places her right leg on a chair to remove her shoe and then repeated the manoeuvre with her left leg. This showed off her legs – long, sexy, shapely and firm looking, made unbearable erotic by sheer black stockings and suspenders.
Her ex-lover slowly gets up from the smashed wood. “How dare you hit me. You’re sacked” he tells her, but his voice sounds nervous. The elegant woman moved towards Sir Nigel, spun completely around on her right foot, anticlockwise. Her left leg swings up high in a backward arc, her skirt flying high, to land the sole of her foot against the side of his neck. He cries out in pain, but before he can raise his hands, she completes her revolution by changing the pivoting foot and swinging her right leg around to slap the top of her foot against the side of his head. His head jerks hard to one side showing the power of the kick and he staggers to his right. She brings her right leg back bent at the knee with her body leaning away from him. Her skirt is pulled high exposing the full length of her long shapely stocking-clad legs and suspenders, right up to her crotch and a skimpy pair of black panties. Without lowering her leg she snaps out a swift a kick to his stomach. The air explodes out of his mouth and he starts to lean forward. She brings her foot back once more and snaps it forward into his face, dropping him to the floor, blood flowing freely from his nose.
“My dose. it’s bleeding” he cries clutching his bloodied nose. “I maybe two months pregnant but that won’t stop me making mincemeat out of you” the smart looking woman says. Sir Nigel tried to get to his feet, but she moved closer, gave a little jump and smashed her foot again into his face. The kick was so fast that I hardly saw it. Blood flew everywhere and the rich arrogant man fell back hard onto the floor.
Sarah removed her jacket and hung it neatly off the back of a nearby chair. She then moved to stand in front of Sir Nigel and hitched up her skirt giving him full view of her sensational stocking clad legs and suspenders. Sir Nigel looks at the sexy legs that could always get him going and feels his manhood stiffen. Slowly he gets to his feet, using a nearby chair for support. The legs remind him of her fantastic fit and firm body that could make love all night long. “Oh Sarah” he says, his voice full of lust “we don’t have to stop seeing each other. We just make it look that way to the press and the P.M.”. However could he have thought of giving up that sexy body?. She stretches out her right leg in front of her and turns it from one side to the other. “Oh Sarah. I want you bad” he says, his cock aching for her. “You want my leg? well have it!” she says as her sexy right leg shoots upwards in a blur of motion to smash her foot once more into his face.
Sir Nigel’s head is in a daze, his vision blurs and for a moment he can’t work out why his face aches so much. Her right leg snaps out again with a lightning fast kick to his middle, burying her foot deep in his flabby stomach. He hasn’t got time to double in pain as her right leg again stretches out to smash into his face. He is rocked by the power of the kick and stumbles backwards into the hall, his battered and bloodied face aching severely.
She follows him and he raises his hands to protect his face. “I’m going to pound your stomach into jelly” she says, her fists explode into action hammering into his gut. A whoosh of air and bends forward in response to the agony bursting in his middle. “Taste nylon, pig” she says as she pivots on her left foot and kicks her right forward towards his face. Dispite the pain surging in his stomach, he tries to block the kick, but her foot drives through his arms and lands hard in his face. Sir Nigel staggers back under the blow clutching his face feeling the torrent of warm blood flow under his hands. His daze hasn’t cleared when she spins around and slams the sole of her foot on the side of his head. His head is snapped to the side so viciously that he sees stars and his brain is addled. He raises his arms to protect his heads from any more blows, but she steps forwards and hammers a solid kick his already battered gut. There is another explosion of air and he doubles over sinking to his knees, a bloody beaten mess.
“Come on, I think he’s had enough” I tell the woman as she stands over Sir Nigel. She turns and walks towards me. She pushes me against a wall then lifts her leg high and rests her calve on my shoulder. She presses her body against mine, her leg sandwiched between us like a flagpole. The feel of her crotch close to mine and her raised stocking-clad leg brings a familiar response to my loins. She smiles as says softly “It really gets me excited to turn a man on with my legs and then use them to smash him to pulp”. I gulped, my erection growing even stiffer at the intoxicating effect of her body so close and her leg in such a provocative position. “Don’t interfere and you won’t get hurt” she tells me. She then leans hard against to bring her face close to mine and whispers “I’ll get you the information you want and then you will give me what I want”. Her tongue reaches out and licks my ear. I nearly cream myself!.
She lowers her leg and turns to move away. Suddenly Sir Nigel is behind and places his hands around her throat and starts to choke her. “I’ll kill you, you bitch” he yells in a demented voice. Sarah raises her right hand above her head and turns. As she comes around she brings her arm down and traps his wrists between her elbow and body. With his forearms trapped beneath her elbow, she plunges her fist deep into his stomach. A surge of pain erupts in Sir Nigel’s abdomen. He wonders who is screaming and wished they shut up. Then he realises that it is him.
He sees the face of his former mistress in front of him. He flinches at the bloodlust in her eyes. “I’m going to kick your face right to the back of your head” she says. Stepping forward, she spins, her long right leg cutting through the air to bring the sole of her foot crushing into his throat. He clutches his throat, coughing and spluttering.
“I used to knock my male opponents out with a single kick, but then I found it was more fun to play with them, torture them. I loved the look on their faces when they realised that they were outclassed but I wouldn’t end their humiliation until they were thoroughly beaten” she tells him as his coughing fit clears. Showing no mercy, her left leg kicks high and fast like an express train to his head. He saw a blur of motion and then his head felt like it had been hit by a cricket bat. He staggers blindly into the next room, his vision blurred and filled with exploding stars.
He hears her voice over his thumping headache “I used to love hammering the men in the dojo. They never expect a woman to hit hard. They never had a chance against me and they were black belts. What chance do you think you have?”. Nigel can hardly believe it, he knew his mistress, ex-mistress, as a elegant woman with a great body and long sexy legs who is great in bed. He never imagined her to be a ruthless fighting machine. How can legs as sexy as that be so lethal?.
“I could kick you so hard that my foot smashes through your body and out the other side” she states. Pivoting on one foot she drove her foot into his middle with such power that she lifted him off his feet, sending flying several feet across the room crashing into and knocking over an armchair.
“I’ll sue you for this Sarah” he says, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Yes I can see the headlines now. Cry-baby minister beaten up mistress. Don’t make me laugh” she sneers. With his back to the wall he slowly rises to his feet warily watching her. “Please Sarah no more” he begs. WHAM. He is silenced by a beautifully executed high-kick to the face, her long leg lifting elegantly like a ballet dancer, pulling her skirt up to display the sexy sheen of her stockings and the matt of her stocking tops. His head snaps back hitting the wall behind. Before he has time to recover, she turns her back to him and drives her elbow into his middle like a piston. “orrppphh” the sound of air explodes from him as he bends forward, his insides burning in agony. A hard chop swings down on the back of his head and he screams out in pain.
“I feel like kicking your head right off your neck” she says as her right leg swings upwards kicking his head savagely as though it were a football. The back of his head is driven with force into the wall behind him, stunning him. Spinning on her left foot, she lifts her right leg and slams it into his throat and keeps it there. What a magnificent sight, an elegant sophisticated woman in a skirt with her sexy stocking sheathed leg raised high pressing her foot into his neck. Horrible croaking noises and coughs emerge from his lips. “I can crush your throat as though it were an empty can of drink” she tells him as she chokes him with her foot. He tries to protest, but all that emerges are grunts and croaks, his hand feebly trying to move her foot. “I’m going to smash you all over the house with my karate before I’ve finished with you” she tells him. She removes her foot from his throat and lowers it to the floor.
Still coughing, Sir Nigel breathes a visible sigh of relief. But it is premature, she sweeps her left leg high in a graceful arc in front of her hammering his face from right to left. More blood splattered from his mouth painting the wall behind.
Tears streaming from his eyes and blood streaming from his nose and mouth, he tries to back away from her heading for the door. “Please no more” he begs. He has only gone three or four paces when he watched stupefied as the elegant lady leaps forward high into the air and drives her leading leg hard into his upper chest. It feels like he has been hit by a ton of bricks. The force of the kick drives him through the doorway into the hall beyond.
Lying on the floor he finds it hurts to breathe deeply. “You’ve broken a rib. Please stop, you’re killing me” he pants out. The deadly legged woman smiled as she stood astride him “I’m not stupid. I’m not going to jail for killing a little git like you”.
“Into you study you pathetic little man” she demands. “No please Sarah I beg you” he pleads. She raises her foot poised above his crotch “Move before I stamp you balls into a bloody mess”. Sir Nigel’s eyes went wide in fright and he quickly scrabbled backwards into the next room. She walked into the study looking around as if searching for something. She went over to a bookcase and raised herself on tiptoe to clear a shelf and then pull it out. Her well toned calf muscles flexed sensuously. Carrying the shelf, she approached me. “Grab hold of the ends like this” she instructed “Nigel, watch carefully. Imagine this is your body”. She readied herself, arms raised in front of her. “Haaiiiieghah!” her right hand shot out in a blur of motion, punching its way through an inch of expensive wood with terrifying force.
Nigel watched in horror and tried to back away on the floor as she turned and approached him. “Now it’s your turn” she said smiling with menace. “Please Please I’ll give you a thousand pounds, two thousand, anything just leave me alone” he begs. “It’s not money I want. It’s revenge” she says grabbing by the hair and pulling him to his feet. “Hai!” her right fist shoots out like a bolt of lightening into his middle. The fist that just smashed it’s way through an inch of solid timber wrecks havoc on his innards. There is a cry then a horrid croak as he crumples in a heap on the floor. He curls up into a foetal position, tears in his eyes and retching.
The elegant middle class woman returned to the bookcase. She cleared another row of books and removed another shelf and handed it to me to hold. “Nigel, watch” she instructed the battered man curled up on the floor, fear in his eyes. Her leg flashed out and demolished the thick wooden shelf. The kick was so powerful that it knocked me back several steps. She turned to Sir Nigel “Get up” she instructed. He was crying like a baby now “no more please no more”.
She walked over to the prone man and kicked him onto his back. She then planted her right foot squarely on his balls and applied pressure. “arghhh no no please” he begged. “Get to your feet or I’ll stamp your balls into history” she said, her voice full of menace. She raised her foot threateningly and the minister scrabbled to his feet.
He stood up trembling “please Sarah I’ll give you anything, just stop this” he begs. “I want nothing from you but to redecorate this house with your blood” she replies. She launches a powerhouse of a kick to his mid-section. His body flew through the air, out of the door and right across to the other side of the hall. He lay on the ground, his face a bloody mess, his body twitching horribly.
“I really think he’s had enough” I tell the woman. She responds with a swift kick to my face that drops me to the ground. Before I can shake my head to clear it, she hikes up her skirt and lowers herself to sit her crotch on my face. “I’ll tell you when he’s had enough. You keep out of it otherwise I’ll use you for karate practice. Understand?” she asks. I try to answer but my reply is muffled by her crotch. Suddenly she starts to rock back and forwards over my face. “Ohh, I’d forgotten how horny this makes me” she says as she picks up speed “You won’t believe the number of men I destroyed at university to satisfy my cravings. I was a bit wild in those days. ohhh that’s good”. Pent up with sexual energy it wasn’t long before she climaxed on my face. She there for a while regaining her composure then stood and went over to her victim.
Sir Nigel gets to his knees, badly shaking at fear of his former lover turned man wrecker. As she nears, he tries to get to his feet to get away, only to feel her knee slam full into his face wrecking even more damage. This is followed by a chop to the back of the neck that sends him to the ground, a sobbing beaten wreck.
“It’s time to go upstairs now lover” she taunts. “Please leave me alone please” he pleads pitifully. She grabs his head and yanks him, crying and sobbing, to the bottom of the stairs.
“Get up those stairs, wimp!” she orders “You always liked getting me in the bedroom before, so let’s go”. “No please no more” he begs trying to get to his feet. With lighting speed her right foot shot out to smash into his mouth, blood flying everywhere. In a blink of an eyelid and without touching the ground, her right leg rockets out again planting her foot in his mid- section. He begins to double up but her lightning fast right leg snaps out again to his face. Blood and tears splattering in all direction as he crashed onto the first few steps of the staircase.
“Start climbing otherwise I’ll kick you up the stairs!” she orders. The fool just lies there sobering and whimpering. Placing her foot under his chin she lifts his head, then in a blur lashes his face from left to right with her foot. In fear he tries to crawl backwards up the stairs to get away from her feet. However she follows him and again her foot slaps his face from right to left. In terror he tries to get up the stairs before she can assail him again. But he was out of luck, she fell upon him, her hand flashing, it’s side striking his neck. He cries out aloud, his body jerking spasmodically. She rises preparing for another assault. Terrified he quickly continues to back up the stairs to escape this mistress of pain.
He reaches the landing and starts to pull himself up. Smiling wickedly she approaches him, grabs his shirt with both hands and jerks him to his feet. “Feel the power of the female knee” she says with menace. A look of horror comes to his face and he tries to pull away, but he is too late, her stocking-clad knee pounds into his groin. He cries aloud in agony, my own groin twitching in sympathy. Again her knee comes up thumping deep into his solar plexus. He doubles over, all the air evacuated from his tortured chest cavity. He starts to slump towards the ground but she grabs his hair and pulls him into the middle of the landing. Lifting his head with her left hand, she forces him to look into her eyes. “Tell Mr.Priest about Lady Helen” she demands. He looks up in fear and replies “C-Cole made me do it”. “Do what Nigel?” she asks. “Please Sarah, no” he begs. She steps back. “Haaiiiieghah!”, her shapely right leg hammers into his chest sending him sprawling along the landing.
She walks over to him and stands over him, hands on her hips. “What is it Cole made you do?” she demands. “S-She threatened to expose Cole in public if she wasn’t released, please no more”. She pulls him up by his hair. “So you ordered her release?” she states. Sir Nigel nodded yes and looked on helpless, crying in terror and his hot bodied ex-mistress jumps into the air, raises her leg bent at the knee and snaps her foot straight into his face. The kick sends him crashing through a door into a large expensively furnished bedroom.
Somehow he remains on feet, swaying uneasily. She steps towards him “and why should you help Cole?” she asks. “Sarah please” he begs. She twitches her leg and he almost jumps out of his skin “illegal immigrants. John Davison ships them in from India. I help Cole make sure the authorities turn a blind eye”. He sees her turn to the side and tries to move away but she is too fast. Her sensuous leg lashes out smashing her foot straight into his face. His head snaps back so savagely that it causes a blinding headache and bright colours flash in front of his eyes. He staggers back, almost falling if it weren’t for the wardrobe that his body comes up against.
The man batterer undoes her skirt and elegantly steps her lovely legs out of it. She folds it neatly on a bedside unit. She raises one leg and places it on the bed. He watches mesmerised as she runs her hands over her shapely calves, up her thighs empathising the erotic sheen of her stockings, over the stocking tops to her suspenders. “Want some?” she smiles seductively. Sir Nigel can’t help himself, his manhood stiffens.
She lowers her leg to the floor and turns to face him. Slowly she unbuttons and removes her blouse and folds it neatly placing it with her skirt. “Come and get it” she beckons with a finger. “Danger” signs flash through his mind, but disappear when he looks at her 38D” breasts held aloft by a skimpy lacy black bra above her flat firm stomach. He moves towards her, then realises his mistake. Leaping so high in the air that she nearly hits the ceiling, one leg scissors around to smash him full in the face. He staggers back into the wardrobe and in a daze watches in horror as she swings herself in the air and drives her foot into his chest. The force of the kick sends his body crashing through the wardrobe doors, to end up lying amongst a heap of clothing that he had knocked down.
Cautiously I approached her, I found it difficult not to stare at her sexy but deadly legs. “I really think you’ve done enough. Leave him alone now” I told her. She walks over to a small armchair sitting by the window, picks up the thick seat cushion and hands it to me. “Hold this tight now” she instructed. “Hai!” her fist speed out and hit the cushion. Again and again she punched the cushion, her punches getting stronger and stronger. She switches to kicking, her nyloned foot hammering hard. Her kicks got stronger in power, so much so that I was staggering back after each kick. Finally she kicked it so hard that the cushion exploded in a snow storm of foam, feathers and god knows what else. “Do you want me to do the same thing to your chest?” she asks. “N-No” I exclaim, worried. “Then get your clothes off and onto the bed” she orders.
She turns towards the wardrobe and Sir Nigel’s body lying part way out of it. She walks over to him and says “goodnight sweetheart, sweet dreams”. She falls down towards him doing the splits, her sexy legs going in opposite directions. She came down with her legs splayed, her fist pile-driving into his stomach. His torso lurches up in reaction and her right leg lashes around to smash his head like a thunderbolt. His head speeds back under the blow and cracks on the floor behind him.
She stands up, turns and faces me. “I told you to remove your things” she states. Before I can protest, she steps forward and drives a powerful kick deep into my middle. The kick lifts me off my feet as I fly through the air to land on the bed. Instinctively I try to sit up because of the pain searing through my gut. I watch in horror as she comes to the edge of the bed and raises her long right leg fully extended in front of her body. The leg drops like a sexy deadly guillotine towards my body. Millimetres above my chest she kills its motion and drops gently the remainder of the way. “Strip” she orders. I don’t hesitate to comply watching her remove her bra, undoing her suspenders to remove her knickers and then doing them up again. “Beating a man to a pulp always makes me horny” she tells me as she puts a condom on me “I want orgasms and lots of them” she demands as she lowers herself onto my throbbing shaft and starts to ride me “otherwise I’ll use your face as a punchbag or more correctly a kick bag”. I have no option but to obey this elegant but deadly legged woman.
Scott climbed up the drainpipe, pushed the sash window up and entered the office of Jim Priest, private detective and old school rival. He spotted the filing cabinet in the corner and decided that would be a good place to start. As he looked through, he saw a file marked “Bristledown Manor”. Smiling to himself he took the file and looked around for something that might be worth stealing for selling on a car-boot sale.
At that moment he heard a key in the door downstairs. He froze undecided what to do next. He heard voices “Oh I’ve just got to go to the corner shop to get some milk. You might as well stay here and get the kettle ready. Is that okay Marianne?”, “Yes fine Sue”. The door closed and he heard footsteps climbing the staircase. “Sue .. must be Priest’s wife” Scott thought “Marianne ?, if I remember correctly that’s his sister in-law”. He pressed himself into a corner, hoping not to be noticed.
“When she enters the room, I’ll rush down the stairs. She’ll won’t even get a good look at my face” he thinks, pleased with the plan.
She enters the room. She is about 5’9″ with a pleasant slender build. Her face is pleasant, long and thin framed by very short cropped sandy blonde hair. Her blue eyes are small and narrow so that she almost looks like she is squinting. She has a long slender nose and a small kissable mouth. She is wearing a sleeveless light blue halter, showing off her slender shoulders and arms. Scott normally wouldn’t have given her a second glance except she had long sexy legs shown off by a very short dark blue mini skirt and high heels. She bends down to put down her shopping on the floor. As she does so, her halter falls forward under gravity allowing Scott to peer at its contents. He is surprised to see her breasts dangling inside the top, with her nipples in full view. “Oh my god she doesn’t wear a bra” he thinks, as his loins stir.
She turns away from him and bends down to remove her shoes. Her skirt rides up and Scott eyes sweep up from her slender ankles, to long slightly muscled calves, leading to the long backs of her thighs right up to her backside barely covered by a skimpy pair of knickers. Scott’s manhood stiffens at the sight.
Creeping up behind he grabs her as she straightens, wrapping his arms and forcing face first against the wall. He slips his hands up inside her top, feeling her firm stomach and then her boobs. “No ! no! help! help somebody please!” she struggles and shouts but he ignores her, enjoying the sensation of squeezing and massaging her breasts. “Nice tits darling. Not too small, not too big. A nice handful”.
He removes one hand to hitch her skirt at the back up and pull her knickers down slightly. He then unzips his trousers and forces his stiff rod down her knickers and into the crevice between her buttocks. She screams. “Ohh yes” he sighs as he starts to slide it up and down her backside “nice arse you’ve got darling. I could do this to you all day”. “Please no” she begs. After a couple of minutes, he realises that this is not true and feels like creaming. He would prefer to come inside her, but the feel of her backside is so erotic that he shoots his wad into her knickers. Removing his dick from her knickers, he turns her around. “No! leave me alone!” Marianne yells, tears streaming from her eyes.
She tries to claw him with her hands and Scott is forced to use both hands to restrain her. He pins them against the wall above her head and moves close. Against her will he kisses her passionately on the lips. He pins her hands one on top of the other under one of his hands and uses the other to hitch up her skirt. “No!” she screams loudly and rams bony knee hard into his groin.
Scott yells in pain, lets go off her hands and slowly starts to bend forward in agony. Marianne is like a cornered wild animal and tries to push his body away from her. In desperation, she lashes out a long leg, her shin smashing him hard between the legs with a solid thud. He falls to the floor writhing in agony as she flees down the stairs and out into the street. Dispite the pain, Scott knows he must get away fast. He forces himself to crawl over to where he dropped the folder he was stealing and picks it up. Then he puts his flaccid dick inside his trousers and zips them up. Still clutching his painfully aching balls, he hobbles down the stairs. He looks out of the door, he can’t see her but there seems to be a crowd of people in a shop doorway a few doors down. He forces himself to mince as fast as he can in the other direction and down the nearest side alley to make his getaway.