“John, it’s 11:30. You need to hurry up!”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Your lunch is on the counter.”

“Thanks baby. Gimmie kiss. Gotta go. Running late.”

“Don’t get another speeding ticket.”

“I won’t.”

I watched him disappear through the bedroom door, down the stairs, and out the front door. My husband had to be to work by midnight and always pressed his luck by running late. I curled up with my favorite book. Pages of erotica took me away. I read for about an hour, hit the switch on my headboard and turned off the tiny overhead light.

I fell into a deep sleep.

I heard a loud sound, made me sit straight up. I looked at the red numbers on the top of my nightstand, it read 4 o’clock. I sat motionless, paralyzed with fear, took a closer listen, my eyes glued to my bedroom door. After a few minutes and not hearing another sound, I figured it had to be just my imagination. So I returned my head to my pillow, and tried to fall into another sleep.

A few minutes later, I heard a new sound.

My eyes flew open, swept my bedroom, and landed on a large hooded figure standing at the foot of my bed. Fear raced through me. I had no weapons. I didn’t know what to do. My eyes moved to my bedroom door then snapped back to him. I decided to make a run for it then I jumped out of bed. But before my feet landed onto the carpeted floor, his fingers were tangled in my hair.

He tossed me back onto my bed then tied a blindfold around my head. I started to scream, that’s when he told me to shut up. Told me to be quiet and do as he said.

The shadowy figure was heavy on top of me, my wrist bound by one of his hands; he was holding my wrist above my blindfolded head. His free hand started lifting my gown, tearing my panties while pushing them aside.

Fear ripped through me like the panties he had torn off of me then thrown to the floor.

A moment later he was inside of me. Went in fast and hard. Pressed his nose against my cheek, then licked my face.

He said, “I’ve been watching you watching me.”

I didn’t say a word. His thrust were slow and deliberate. I was trying to think of how to get away.

He groaned in my ear. “You want me don’t you?

You want… me… to… give it… to… you… like… this.”

“No.”

“Yes… you do.”

“No… no… please stop.” I could hardly breathe.

That must have turned him on. My begging him to stop was turning him on. He pulled way and flipped me around. He grabbed my waist and lifted me to my knees, his erection danced in front of my opening.

That’s when I tried to give him a hard backwards kick.

He caught my foot in midair, grabbed my ankle and flipped me back around.

He said, “So you wanna play rough huh! Think you can fight back!”

I apologized, told him I wouldn’t try anything like that again.

He was inside of me again, riding deep inside of my privacy, touching my secret place, searching for my personal ecstasy.

He grunted with aggression, started tugging on my hair, pulled my head back, and buried his teeth and tongue into the side of my neck. His body stiffened, his movements slowing down. I gave him guilty moans in return, told him to please don’t stop; I kept that part secret inside of my head. He started pouring warm liquid deep inside of me; his groans sounded painful, they were now without words, his body seemed to be getting weak. I removed my blindfold; this was my chance to see. I kissed him on his forehead and told him to get off of me.

He asked me if I liked that. I said yes. I asked him what’s going to happen the next time he seduces me.

My husband’s only reply was, “You’ll just have to wait and see…”