“Good girl,” he said, as he firmly closed the door behind him.
Thanks to my featherbrained blurted response, he owned me now.
And the first thing he ordered me to do was hoist up my dress. “All the way past your tits,” he growled.
And, in a dizzy daze, I did what he wanted. My high heels scraping the floor. HE was in charge.
“Hands on the wall,” he said. “Push that arse up and out. Spread those legs.”
This I also did, sinking even further under his control. My eyes closed, my heart beating madly….
He knelt down and felt me up all over. Every part of my naked body was available to him now. The sensation of his hands on bare flesh making me swoon. There was mistletoe hanging from the ceiling so he bent forward, kissing and feeling bare flesh, all over.
He turned me round, with me still clutching my dress up high. Then he kissed and licked my shaven vagina, now fully exposed and available to him. After that, I got fingered there, good and proper, making me whimper and gasp. Finally, he helped himself to another good, long, feel, over my naked arse and thighs before the knock came again.
“So soon?” I gasped, not really wanting it to end…..
It was a struggle to get my dress down again and adjust it to a decent fit, more difficult this time, over my breasts and hips. So, Maria’s friend must have seen that when she opened the door. There was a knowing smirk on her face as I went past.
But, there was no disapproval in her manner. Quite the contrary actually, I got the impression she was rather pleased about what she suspected we were doing.
As another girl went in, I shamefully left the cupboard, went past the scornful looks of couples and groups standing around in the room. They would be judging my dishevelled appearance and double session, with the same man, and coming to obvious conclusions. But, it was too late for regrets. I needed to get up the stairs to the ladies to re-arrange my dress and sort myself out.
While there, I splashed some cold water on my flushed face. “That was torrid,” I acknowledged to my reflected face in the mirror. But, in reality, I was still shaking from the intensity of his lust in those brief sessions. My body was tingling with the physical memory of those roving hands and probing fingers. My heart was still thumping too. I closed my eyes and realised that I wanted to be back in there, in that cupboard, having my body groped fondled and explored.
I bit my lip and saw my cheeks were red with shame. My fingers felt my wedding ring. Why had I allowed myself to be ravaged like that? I was a married woman and should have better standards.
Carefully, I made my way downstairs. At the bottom there was a tray full of drinks so I took a glass and gulped it down. The party was still in full swing. People talking in groups, laughing and drinking. I recognised nobody.
In my distressed state, I found a chair and sat down. It was time to calm down; get myself together. It was another ten minutes before I was able to move on. My knees still weak.
I looked around as I went, because, despite the drink which fuddled my thinking, I was concentrating on looking out for HIM and seeking to avoid another confrontation. Or was I?
Thinking it safe, I walked into the hallway area and out towards the games room. If I could find my husband, maybe, we could go home, because, I didn’t trust myself to be good. Not here and not now, with my head still dizzy with the drink and me in such a weak and vulnerable state.
But, before I got there, a manly hand grabbed my wrist. I gasped with shock. It was him, my molester. He started to pull me in another direction. “I’ve found somewhere private,” he confided…..”we won’t be disturbed and I’ve just got to have you….”
“No,….that’s not what……..,” I started to say, but damn it, we were under some mistletoe again.. It was my undoing, because, it allowed him to pull me towards him, hard. Then kiss me like a lover. Once again, the breath was knocked out of me. I felt my knees almost buckle in surrender. There was an erection pressing into me and there was the immediate prospect of raw sex. Oh God, please help me………..My heart was thudding, again, out of control…..
Now, still firmly holding my wrist, he was taking me somewhere and there was nothing I could do about it…….He just assumed I would be willing to go with him. And he had assumed right.
I had nearly got free and was only yards from the arms of my husband, but, HE had other plans for me. Dirty plans. And wherever he was taking me, I knew that this time my new black party dress would be coming all the way off. I closed my eyes and shuddered, accepting my fate.
I blamed it on the mistletoe. It was always there to trap me.
Along a corridor, up some back stairs and we were in a quiet little room all to ourselves. How he knew about it I don’t know but it was perfect for his evil plans to ravage this vulnerable married woman. He guided me in and closed the door. There was only a single bed in there, but it was enough for what I anticipated was going to happen. And even here, there was a sprig of mistletoe up above to undermine any resistance.
He helped me off with my expensive sexy black dress. Easy done. Now, apart from my stay-up stockings, I was naked and at his mercy. And with that mistletoe looming over us, the kissing started up again, passionate French kisses with open mouths and tongues.
And Intense, passionate kissing like that usually leads to only one thing……..fucking.
And there was no way I was going to be allowed to back out now.
His hands were all over me, again, as I was kissed and ravaged all over.