textfiles/sex/EROTICA/B/bank.txt

The blast of cool air that caressed the  long-legged  young  
woman's  body  was a welcome relief in  the  Southern  California 
September  afternoon.  For a few seconds, she just  stood  there, 
reveling  in the coolness.   Then, she moved over to one  of  the 
customer convenience counters.  There were several people in  the 
bank, but she didn't pay any particular attention as she 
concentrated on filling out her deposit slip.  
 
     Finished,  she straightened up and had just taken  one  step 
toward  the  line  waiting for a teller,  when  the  street  door 
suddenly slammed open with a loud bang.  Billie's shoulder length 
brown  hair  whipped  around her face as  she  whirled  her  head 
around.   She heard a woman scream.  Five men, each holding  what 
Billie  would always think of as a huge pistol, were fanning  out 
through  the bank lobby.  Billie's heart leaped into  her  throat 
where it beat furiously, choking her.  
 
     "Okay,  everybody just stay still and keep calm  and  nobody 
gets  hurt,"  one  of  the  men  shouted.   "Everbody  into   the 
corner...over there.  Move!  Now!"  
 
     For  a  second, nothing happened, then the  other  customers 
began  shuffling  toward the corner the man had  indicated.   The 
bank  employees, herded by a sixth man who had evidently came  in 
another door, flowed out from behind the counters and joined  the 
customers in one frightened mass. 
 
     To  Billie, everything seemed to be moving in  slow  motion.  
She couldn't seem to force herself to move at all.  There was  an 
old man standing near her, and he too seemed rooted to the  spot.  
One  of the men, wearing a nylon stocking over his face,  stomped 
threateningly  toward  them.     "You heard the  man,  into  that 
corner.  Now, goddamnit!"  He shouted at them.  His  voice 
thundered  in Billie's head, echoing as though they were in a 
small, empty room.  She began to shiver, her stomach whirling..  
 
     "Now, now, see here..." The old man began, sputtering.  
 
     The  gunman brought his hand up, visiously cracking it  into 
the  side  of  the man's head, knocking him to the floor, blood 
spurting  from the side of his head.  Billie stared down  at  his 
crumpled form, her skin tingling as if her body were electrically 
charged, every cell awake and tingling.  
 
     With  the  same eerie slowness, the gunman moved  closer  to 
Billie.   He was black, they all were she realized, and now  that 
he  was  next to her she saw that he was huge, and muscular.  His 
eyes, even through the veil of the nylon stocking, were cruel and 
deep.  Her shivers deepened into body-whacking trembles.  
 
     "That  means you too, bitch," he snarled at her.  Still  she 
couldn't move, could only stand there, panting.  Her nipples were 
hard,  she  realized, poking out against her suddenly  too  tight 
bra.  They ached, feeling like they would burst at any moment.  A 
tiny stream of moisture began to wet her panties.  She stared  at 
the man like a bird at a snake.  
 
     "Move  it,  slut," he snapped again, lashing his  open  palm 
across her cheek.  Stinging pain spread over her face.  Her  ears 
echoed  with the exciting sound of his palm striking  her  flesh.  
The  trickle between her legs became a stream.   Tiny  whimpering 
sounds came from her throat. Her eyes, even as she trembled  with 
fear,  danced with the flame of the confusing fire raging  within 
her.  Gradually the thug began to realize what was happening to 
the good-looking  young girl he was towering over.  A big grin 
began to  spread  over his face beneath the mask, and  he 
slapped  her again,  laughing  slightly.  Around them the  noise 
of  breaking glass  and spliting wood filled the room as his 
companions  began to  smash open cash drawers.  Neither of them 
paid any  attention to the noise.     Casually, almost 
contemptously, the man ran his hands over Billie's body while she 
stood, whimpering softly.  His hands  squeezed her breast, hard, 
and she moaned, swaying  toward him,  her eyes closing before the 
wave of passion  sweeping  over her.  His hands went lower, 
sliding  down over her waist,  reaching  around  to cup her 
buttocks, pulling her to  him.   His  hot breath  seared her 
cheeks and she felt his hard-on  burning  into her  through their 
clothes.  She groaned out loud and he  laughed again,  suddenly 
grabbing her arm and twisting it up  behind  her back.  
 
     She  cried out at the sudden pain, spinning in his grasp  as 
he  cruelly  turned her around, twisting the other arm  back  and 
holding  them  both  painfully high  up  between  her  shoulders. 
Sobbing,  her arms on the verge of breaking, she stumbled  before 
him  as  he pushed her toward a table against one  wall  opposite 
where the other captives had been herded and were watching.   All 
the  way, his phallus was growing in his pants, poking  into  her 
rump  as  he  walked her across the floor.  As  they  neared  the 
table, he shifted his grip, holding both her arms with one  hand. 
With  his free hand, he began tearing at her clothes even  as  he 
pushed her face down over the table.  
 
     Sharp,  yelping  sounds  rose from her throat  as  her  body 
twisted on the rough wood, her legs spread and her feet  dangling 
inches off the floor.  He clawed her skirt up over her waist  and 
ripped  at her pantyhose, tearing them to shreds and yanking  her 
skimpy  panties from her moist crotch.  For an instant  she  felt 
cool  air caressing her heated sex, and she spread wider  arching 
her  hips  up,  her head rolling and  twisting  in  passion.   He 
smacked  his  wide, calloused hand down on  the  upturned,  white 
flesh of her ass.  Once, twice, three times he hit her...and  she 
cried out in pain at each blow, her nails clawing the table  top, 
but she never for a moment tried to escape.  
 
     Finally, panting, he stopped beating her and fumbled at  his 
fly.  She heard the sound of his zipper, seeming to drown out the 
continuing backdrop of breaking glass and curses.  She threw  her 
head up, mouth open, screaming as his hot, hard cock slammed deep 
into  her  dripping  cunt.  
 
     "Oh yes, yes!" She screamed in delirium, pounding the  table 
and throwing her head in neck wenching circles, her hair swirling 
around her face.  
 
     Flashes  of lightening went off in her head.  She  began  to 
come  immediately, filled with the pain/pleasure of his  cockhead 
bumping,  pounding  against the depths of her  welcoming  sheath.  
She  couldn't stop cumming.  His huge prick filled  and  streched 
her  pussy. She could feel every inch, every blood filled  ridge.  
The  inner flesh of her hole gripped him, caressing  and  milking 
his  raging cock, embracing and saluting the  brutal  ravagement.  
The  man knotted his fingers in her long brown hair, pulling  her 
harder  back  against  him, forcing her to arch  her  body  more, 
opening  herself  even more for his pleasure.  The  pain  in  her 
scalp seemed to intensify the pleasure in her crotch and her body 
surrended totally to the flood of sensations leaping and  dancing 
within  her.     In her delirium, her hands tore her blouse  open 
and  ripped  her bra off, freeing her swollen breasts.   Now  the 
firm, full mounds rolled beneath her as she writhed, her  nipples 
painfully crushed against the table.  
 
     Incrediblly,  the man's companions had, up until  now,  been 
too  occupied to pay any attention to what was happening  on  the 
table.   Only  now did one of them, after glancing at  his  watch 
look up.  
 
     "Okay...let's...   Shit!  What the...?"  He  laughed.   "Hey 
man...finish  it...Drop  your  load.  Let's get  the  fuck  outta 
here!"  
 
     The man riding Billie quickened his movements.  He began  to 
grunt,  then  cried out.  Billie's body  bucked,  a  high-pitched 
wail  rising  from deep in her throat as she received  his  seed.  
Hot,  steaming semen gushed deep into her hole, bathing the  torn 
tissues  within.  Her orgasm leaped to new heights as she  bucked 
and  tossed on the table, clawing at her breasts.  
His  movements  slowed, then ceased.  For a  moment  he  lay  
drained  on  top  of her twitching body, then, with  a  sigh,  he 
heaved  himself to his feet.  His cock slid from her hole with  a 
loud  plop,  followed by a gush of mingled semen and  cunt  juice 
which ran down her legs, dripping onto the floor, in full view of 
the shocked and numb captives.   He swatted her once more  across 
the  ass,  and then turned, zipping up his fly as he ran  to  the 
door with his fellows.  
 
     Billie,  barely  conscious,  began to slip  off  the  table, 
unable  to  find the strength to arrest her fall.  Like  an  old, 
discarded  sack, her body sagged to the floor, where she  lay,  a 
sobbing, moaning heap of satiated flesh.  
 
     For  a few long moments the room was perfectly  still.   The 
unhurt  victims seemingly unable to move, frozed in place by  the 
orgasmic  scene  they had just witnessed.  They  just  stared  at 
Billie.   She had fallen with her legs sprayed, her  open  pussy, 
oozing  semen.  Finally, an older woman moved.  She went to 
Billie, crouching down beside her and gently taking the still 
moaning woman in her arms.  As if that had been some kind of 
signal, the others shook themselves and began to live again.  
 
     The  police  didn't  take long to get  there,  nor  did  the 
ambulance  they called.  It was too late in any case.  The  thugs 
were gone, and the old man was already dead.  Billie received the 
news  with a loud sob and buried her head in the ample  bosom  of 
the old woman, who held her comfortingly.    
 
     They took Billie to the hospital emergency room, but, except 
for  the  scratches on her breasts which she had  inflicted  upon 
herself,  she was unhurt.  A rape counselor talked to her  there, 
and  Billie  listened  politely, feigning an  interest  that  she 
didn't feel.  After all, she knew she hadn't been raped.  She had 
wanted it...probably, at least at first, more than he did.  From  
the moment she had seen those pistols, she had been excited.  And 
when that man struck the old man, and then slapped her and called 
her a bitch and a slut...Oh God!  
 
     In  front  of those people...all  those  people...Jesus...He 
beat me, hurt me...and I loved it.    
 
     She  realized  the rape counseler, a big, older  woman,  had 
stopped her spiel, and was staring at her kind of funny.    
 
     "Uh...I'm...I'm sorry.  I really am okay.  Please...I'd just 
like to go home."  
 
     "Sure," the woman said, shrugging her shoulders.   If Billie 
didn't need her there were surely others that did.