Peter Jensen - Kidnapped bride

"Yeah, I've been drinking." Tim struggled to keep his composure, but he was well aware of the thinly disguised note of disapproval in her voice. Goddamn uptight bitch.

"Tim, it's not good to drink so early in the day… don't you think…"

"No, I do not think," he said abruptly, cutting her off mid-sentence. "I just need a drink to relax me, that's all. God knows I'm entitled to it after what you've put me through."

"Tim," Susan exclaimed, her eyes watering with hot tears, "don't say that. I know it hasn't been easy, but I'm trying, you've got to believe that."

He wanted to believe her, he wanted to once again take her in his arms and comfort her and tell her everything was all right, that he could wait as long as necessary for her to get over her anxieties. But he knew it would be a lie. He was sick and tired of waiting, sick and tired of having no sexual outlet, tired of being the dutiful husband. He glanced at her. The look in her eyes was pitiful, like a lost child begging for help. How could he be angry with her when she looked like that? He couldn't, for the plain fact was that he still loved her, loved her so deeply that it made his frustration all the more difficult to bear.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry," he said finally. "I just don't know what to do anymore. The job's got me down, the bills are piling up… I'm going crazy, I guess."

She looked so vulnerable standing next to him, so forlorn and scared that the handsome young husband was surprised to find himself suddenly enfolding her supple form in his arms and embracing her tenderly.

"Tim… oh, Tim darling," she whispered as she pressed her head against his muscular chest. "I don't want you to go away angry at me. I love you so much."

"And I love you too, honey…" The scent of her perfume filled his nostrils like a potent aphrodisiac, heightened because of his wine-sodden state. How good it was to hold her close like this and to feel the firmly rounded mounds of her breasts pressed against his lithe body. His arms circled her petite frame and, to the tipsy young husband, it was like holding a delicious bundle of female delight in his arms. It would be so nice, he thought, so nice to have a really good fuck before I leave. He wanted to take her to the heights of pleasure and burst through the wall of defensiveness and fear that kept her locked in her tower of terror.

Why not? he thought. Why not try it another time? She seems willing, and God knows I want her.

Slowly he began to increase the ardor of his embrace, to hold her tighter and kiss her lightly on the hair. Then he took her face in his hands and with infinite tenderness he bent down and kissed her warm pliant lips, trying to communicate the love and male passion he felt for his beautiful bride. To his delight she responded openly, lovingly to his kiss, and it confirmed his intention to try once more to make love to his ravishing wife before he left. Slowly, still holding her in an ardent kiss, he let his hand travel gently down the tapering line of her back until it came to rest on the curving half-moons of her buttocks, covered by the thin cotton of her dress. His palm slid across the light material and he became pleasantly excited as he traced the outlines of her tight panties beneath the dress encasing her firm rounded ass-cheeks. His passion mounted as Susan made no attempt to pull away from his sensual caress. His penis began to stiffen in the tight sports slacks he wore and pressed hotly against his thigh as it grew thicker and longer by the minute.

Susan, although trying desperately to respond lovingly, found herself again growing tense and alarmed as her young husband rubbed the contours of her buttocks. She nestled her body against his, still kissing him, struggling with every ounce of strength at her command to return his warm caresses in kind, but inside, her mind was a seething torrent of terrifying images. Vivid pictures of the drooling nightmare-men who raped her in her childhood dreams once again leered up at her from the murky depths of her unconscious, and her body began to stiffen with a vast unnameable anxiety.

Oh please, she screamed inwardly, please don't let this happen again. I want to love him, and want to be a good wife!

But it was useless. Tim's hand was sliding along her leg now, at the same time pulling her dress upward. In the next minute he had slipped his fingers under the hem and was inching them up beneath her dress toward her panty-covered vagina. She was shaking with fright now, and insect-like twinges of humiliation seemed to crawl over her skin as her fingers crept closer and closer to her most private area. She broke the kiss and buried her face in his chest, trying to keep from screaming in agony. His hand was getting closer and closer… it was crawling up her inner thigh like a spider, a huge spider! Oh God! It was horrible! Horrible! No… nooo!!

Involuntarily, the terrified young wife suddenly pulled fiercely away from her amorous husband, her face twisted into a shrewish expression of contempt, and in the next moment, without realizing what she was doing, she slapped Tim full on the face. Her young husband reeled back drunkenly, utterly surprised.

"You bitch!" he shouted, as he recovered his senses, "You Goddamn bitch!"

Susan trembled with terror. She hadn't meant to do that, she hadn't. It had just happened, completely out of her control. But it was too late now to figure out why it had happened, for she could see a murderous glint in her husband's eyes, and she began to back away from him in fear.

"Tim, oh Tim, I'm sorry… I'm sorry."

But her enraged husband was past caring how she felt now. Her sudden slap had made his alcohol-fogged brain broil with anger. She was making a fool out of him, a damn fool, and he wasn't going to take it another minute! He wanted her, and if she wouldn't respond to gentleness, then he'd try another method. He didn't give a damn now what she thought or how frightened she was. His cock was aching like thunder in his pants, aching for triumphant orgasm, and he was going to have it! NOW! Lunging toward her, he reached out, grabbed her by the arm, and began to pull her roughly to the bed.

"Tim!" she cried, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! I didn't!"

But her outraged husband only responded with a snarl of animal lust. His entire body was vibrating with a sadistic mixture of throbbing desire and seething revenge. Brutally he threw her down on the bed, then fell on top of her furiously resisting body and began to cover her face and neck with harsh kisses. As she groaned out her protest, Tim began grinding his hips into her futilely resisting abdomen. His long thick cock pounded angrily in his trousers, pulsing like a drum against his thigh. He was consumed in a torrent of raging barbaric passion, heightened by the excess of wine and the burning sting he still felt in his cheek where Susan had slapped him. He was through with waiting now! He was going to fuck the living daylights out of her, and this time she wouldn't be able to get away! She was his wife, and he was due his rights as a husband!

Cruelly he pressed his searching mouth onto her trembling lips, kissing her like a frenzied beast while she struggled, helpless beneath him. Forcing her clenched jaws apart, he suddenly rammed his rigid questing tongue deep into her mouth, twisting and rotating it lewdly, causing his squirming young wife to gag. Still pinning her down, he snaked his hand up between their tightly pressed bodies and began to unbutton the front of her dress, ripping at whatever buttons would not open easily, and the material fell away from the front of her body, exposing the brassiere-encased melons of her breasts. Reaching behind her, he undid the clasp and yanked the confining garment away from her fearfully twisting body. Her firm young breasts grew tense and goose pimply as their areolas quivered into agonized erection under his leering gaze. With a low groan of drunken hunger, he moved his mouth down to the milk-white pliant mounds and began to voraciously suck and bite on her nipples while Susan moaned in terror-ridden helplessness.