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Heather had never really considered herself pretty at all. For most of her life, her mother drilled it into her head how plain she was, how simple-minded she was, and that she would never amount to anything. Her mother repeated many times over the years that Heather should grab the first guy who asked her to marry him. Then she should get pregnant right away so she just might be able to keep him around for a while. The unfortunate outcome of her upbringing was that Heather was not able to see the image that other people saw when they looked at her. She was actually quite stunning if you visualize beyond the bland exterior she tried so hard to project. Heather was prone to wearing loose-fitting clothes like sweaters and longer skirts that hid her flawless pale skin, her lean long legs, and her firm flat stomach.

Her breasts, she had always felt, were too big, and she sometimes hunched her shoulders to try to disguise the fact that she had a great set of knockers. She wore a 38C bra, but there was only the tiniest hint of sag to her breasts. Her nipples were always embarrassing her because they constantly seemed to be poking their heads out when she least wanted them to. Atop all this beauty, Heather's full lips, long aristocratic nose, high cheek bones, pale blue eyes, and long, corn-silk colored hair crowned her body exquisitely well. Unfortunately, all that Heather could see in the mirror was a skinny nose, big lips, watery eyes, and limp hair. She convinced herself that the stares she got when she walked down the sidewalk were looks of pity.

At 33 years of age, yes Heather was now married, but so far had been unable to conceive a child, which was just fine with her husband of four years now. Her husband, Phil, 15 years her senior, was a career army man, divorced twice with grown children, who was lonely and aching for the companionship and comfort that a wife could give. He had gone the route of wife and family, and all he needed or wanted from his wife now was her company and her body. Heather had felt lucky indeed to have such a fine man, and her mother, of course, strongly voiced her opinion that Heather would be a moron if she turned down such a marriage proposal. While Phil probably did love Heather in his own way, he was not very demonstrative or affectionate towards her, and never did he allow any display of feelings or touching in public. In private, Phil and Heather could and could be as passionate as the romance stories that Heather loved to read in her spare time. Otherwise, Heather had to content herself to be the devoted wife of a successful military man.

With the onset of the war in Iraq, however, Heather and Phil found that they were to be separated by a continent and an ocean. Phil received his orders and he was shipped overseas to head up the construction and later the running of a supply base. He had been gone for eight months now and Heather was missing him deeply. She had her lovely home and dog, a nice part-time job as a secretary at a small but well-known accounting firm in town, but every night she went home to bed alone. She had friends, but her friends and acquaintances could not always be there to fill the emptiness she felt in her life. Heather needed something, but just could not put a specific word to that need.

On one late Saturday evening Heather sat on her couch, waiting for another long, silent weekend to begin. She turned on the television and laid back to surf the channels. She came upon a quite vivid scene of lovemaking between a man and a woman on the screen and was instantly mesmerized. The sounds and images coming from the TV stirred something deep within her. Heather started to feel a tingle in her belly and a warmth that spread throughout her body and ended between her legs. She became engrossed in the movie and didn't realize it when her hand slipped inside her baggy sweat pants and started to rub her mound over her panties. The feelings she was experiencing were new and exciting to her. She had never really been one for masturbating while growing up nor in her adulthood, but with the erotic images and sounds coming from the television, she continued to stimulate herself. Soon she found herself getting very aroused and realized that petting herself through her panties was not going to be enough. She stood and went to the bedroom, retrieved a blanket from the closet, and returned to the living room.

Once there, she spread the blanket out on the floor and sat down. It was at that time she realized that the clothes would have to go. It was okay, Heather reasoned, since she was completely alone and no one would be the wiser. So once again she stood, and feeling like a naughty school girl, proceeded to disrobe. First she removed her sweatshirt and peeled off her sweat pants. "I came this far, I might as well go gung-ho," Heather mused. So she unhooked her bra and let it slide off her body, then slowly pushed her panties down around her ankles. Heather stood there totally naked in the middle of her living room, and for the first time in her life, she felt totally free and wicked. Deliciously wicked. The scene on the TV, she noticed, was getting steamy again, so she grabbed a throw pillow from the couch and placed it on the blanket. Heather sank to her knees, watching the scene in front of her, and let her hands do what they would. If the man touched the breast of his lover, then Heather would touch her breast. She became the woman in the movie. Heather's hand moved to her honey pot and much to her surprise, her fingers came away dripping with her juices.

"Uhhnnnnnnn," she moaned. "God this feels soooooo good." She continued her amateurish probing for another minute and suddenly felt her hard little love-bud. Her finger tweaked it and rubbed it, feeling it coated in her special womanly juice and cried out hard as the first climax was ripped from her body. She collapsed onto the pillow and lay there panting for a few minutes. Slowly the scene of the lovers on TV penetrated her consciousness again and Heather started stroking her warm fuzzy pussy lips. Her hands and fingers pinched and rubbed her nipples, and they were standing up very hard and erect. She rubbed them harder, which in turn caused her to get wetter and hotter in her throbbing cunt. Heather started rubbing little circles around her clit, sticking a finger in her pussy to get more wetness, and then back up for more rubbing. She was really getting into her playing and didn't realize at first when she struck a new chord. She had retrieved her dildo and had inserted it and this, with its large head began touching her inner core, her secret spot, causing new and different sensations. Ooohhhhhh, it was so delicious. She was rubbing and moaning, her legs thrashing about some, with both hands reaching up and pulling at her nipples and sucking her fingers. The sensations she was receiving in her pussy now were incredible...something she had never ever experienced before, not even when her husband had gone down and licked her to orgasm. This was so erotic, so pleasurable that Heather just rode the feelings.

"OOooooooooooohhhh," Heather moaned laying her head back on the pillow, as she plunged her play toy deep inside her cunt. "Oh my God...it's not like anything I could have imagined." She teased her love button, soaking her fingers and hands, continuing the deep probing, along with her vivid imagination of her what her well-endowed and talented "lover" was doing eventually pushed Heather far over the edge into the most intense and jolting orgasm of her life. Heather could almost swear she saw fireworks her brain flashed so brightly. Eventually Heather's breathing normalized again. She sighed to herself, completely satisfied for the moment, grabbed the edge of the blanket and pulled it over her, curled up and fell asleep on the floor. The rest of the weekend went pretty much the same as every other weekend. She went to church, had brunch with her mother, and went home to await the start of another week.

Monday was when things changed for Heather. Upon arriving to work at her part-time job, she fired up her computer and noticed a few emails waiting and the usual stack of dictation needing to be typed. Heather decided to tackle her dictation first, and before she knew it, it was almost time to go. That was when she remembered the emails she had waiting. The first was just some advertisement which she quickly deleted from the file. The second email was a rather intriguing-sounding one, but from an address she didn't recognize. It was labeled simply, "You'll find this interesting, Heather." She clicked on it to open the email and was horrified to see her screen filled with picture after picture of her lying naked on her living room floor, playing with herself, and her hands wrapped around a tremendous black cock. The single sentence accompanying the pictures simply said, "I know what you did." That was it. Nothing else. No further instructions.

Heather was horrified. If anyone found out about her dirty little secret, she would be ruined she thought...she would lose her job and her husband and family would throw her out on the streets. She had to find a way to get those pictures back and destroy them. Heather quickly deleted the incriminating email, and shut down her station for the day. She fled the office in a hurry, as if demons were tailing her. She barely remembered the drive home. Somehow she had to get within the walls of her house, where she assured herself she would be safe.

But wait! It finally dawned on her as she slammed her front door; her home wasn't safe at all. Whoever took those pictures had to have been standing right outside her living room window. She thought back to Friday night and what she had experienced. She vaguely remembered something, but could not quite bring it into focus in her mind. She knew it was important though.

Suddenly she thought, "That's it!" She remembered thinking she was seeing fireworks. That had to have been the flash from the prowler's camera. Heather rushed over to look outside the window to see if anything would give her a clue as to the identity of her tormentor. She saw nothing at the first window. However, upon looking out the second window, she saw the grass matted down with footprints and a creamy substance splattered across the lower part of the window.

"That pervert!" Heather screamed. "He stood there watching me and jacked himself off in my own back yard!" Heather shook with fear and anger. She never felt so violated and exposed in her life. She knew she couldn't go to the police. What could she say? That a man watched her masturbating and took pictures of her while she used a big vibrator on herself? That would be too degrading and humiliating. She certainly couldn't talk to her mother, and she had no real close friends in whom she could confide. Heather felt completely alone and at a loss as to what to do.

The next day was agony for her. She expected some monster to come waltzing into the office and distributing pictures of her lewd act on everybody's desk. She could not sleep the night before and had no appetite. She was a nervous wreck and her work was suffering. Finally her boss noticed and told her to take the rest of the day off and go home and get some rest. Heather readily agreed. She had no more energy to fight. She was frightened of every stranger who looked at her and she was exhausted. Heather drove home by rote, not noticing anyone or anything. She parked her car, and walked to her front door, struggling to get the correct key out for the deadbolt. Because of her confused state of mind and fatigue, she didn't notice the figure standing in the afternoon shadows beside her front porch. She inserted her key into the lock and realized belatedly that there was someone standing directly behind her. She felt a cloth cover her nose and mouth and a sweet sickly smell, then her consciousness faded to black.

When she awoke again Heather could not see. The room was in blackness. She tried to move, but soon realized that she was tied spread-eagle and she was blindfolded. In addition, she soon deduced she had been totally stripped and was lying on her back on her bed. There was no sound at first, but then she heard the door open and close gently.

"Ahhh, you're awake!" he whispered hoarsely.

"Who are you? What do you want? What are you doing? Are you mad? You can't get away with this," Heather screamed.

"On the contrary, my dear Heather, I am going to "get away with this," as you say, because you are going to ask me, no beg me, to make love to you. I have watched you. I watched you carrying out some of your deepest fantasies. I know what passion lies beneath that sterile, bland exterior you try to present to the world. I am going to unlock those flood gates, and release the real woman that exists inside you. I am going to introduce you to the truly sexual woman that you can be." Heather just laid there breathing heavily, not knowing how to respond. She had never been so terrified in her life, so completely and utterly helpless. She started to tremble and cry, realizing just how vulnerable and exposed she was.

"Please sir, I beg of you. Don't hurt me. Take whatever valuables you want. I don't have much, but it's yours. I promise I won't tell anyone," Heather cried, hoping for some pity from this stranger. She realized that screaming for help was useless. Their house was situated on 5-acres, on what the Realtors described as "ranchettes," and the possibility of anyone hearing her pleas and coming to her aid were highly unlikely.

"Now, now Heather, please stop crying. I have no intention of harming you. As I stated before, I am going to make love to you, and you are going to love it."

Heather sobbed, giving up hope, convinced now that her pitiful life would soon be over. She had read stories in the newspapers how some rapists/killers got their jollies by tying up helpless women before torturing and killing their prey. Heather cried for her wasted life, the things she would now never accomplish, and her inability to say goodbye to those she loved and cherished.

The room went silent for several minutes. Heather's crying gradually subsided, and her chest stopped heaving with her sobs. It was then that Heather felt his first touch. His hand gently rubbed against her soft, downy cheek. The gentleness startled Heather and she jerked. "Shhhhhh, my pretty one," the stranger crooned. "Just relax. I promise you will enjoy this," he said as he continued to stroke and pet her face and hair.

"You are so stunningly beautiful, Heather. I could feast my eyes on you for decades and never tire of my view." Heather was puzzled. This certainly wasn't the manner in which she expected a serial killer/rapist to behave. She felt his warm breath on her cheek before she felt the contact of his lips against her skin. The kiss was ever so gentle, so tender, and at first she wasn't sure it really happened. An involuntary sigh escaped Heather's lips.

He continued his light stroking, touching her face, her neck, caressing her throat and back up to her earlobes. His touch was so light, so loving, that when it stopped, Heather involuntarily sought his touch again. His hands slid down her neck to her shoulders, lightly rubbing and pressing on her stress points, easing the tension from her stiff muscles. Another sigh left Heather's lips as her head settled more comfortably into her pillow. "Ohhhh," she thought, "How good this feels. I shouldn't like this, but his touch is so relaxing and so loving, I can't help responding."

"Yessss," he murmured into her ear. His face was close enough to hers that she could feel his warm breath leaving his nostrils, tickling her skin. "Just relax and enjoy the sensations, Heather. I want nothing from you but for you to have the most sensual experience of your lifetime. Let me make love to you. Let me show you just how wonderful love can be. Let me bring you out of your cocoon and transform you into the butterfly I know you can become." His hands continued exploring her shoulders and arms, gently rubbing and massaging any tension from them. He continued down from her shoulders, coursing around her breasts, cupping them both in his hands. He delicately licked each nipple, coating them with his saliva, nibbling on them until they were hard and erect. He teased them more with his tongue and teeth, then greedily sucking on them and massaging her breasts with his hands. His touch was so warm and soft, that Heather started responding involuntarily, arching her back, and thrusting her breasts upward to meet his needy mouth.

"Ohhhhhhhh," Heather moaned. She felt a warmth start to spread throughout her body, starting from her head, proceeding down her body until it reached the depth of her belly and groin.

The stranger, sensing her change of mood and emotions, slid his tongue further south, gliding past her belly button, and down to the top of the triangle of hair crowning her very wet and glistening pussy lips. He could see and smell her arousal, but wasn't quite ready to acquiesce to her desired goal. He lightly scratched the sensitive skin on her inner thighs and ever so gently parted her womanly lips, causing her to moan. His middle finger barely probed the opening of her vagina, coming out slick and wet with her juices. He brought his finger up to her mouth, teasing her lips open, and inserted his finger. She sucked on it, tasting her own arousal. He abruptly arose from the bed, causing Heather to groan in protest. Her passion was beginning to hit new highs and her body screamed in denial at the cessation of stimulation, craving more attention.

"Whhh...what are you going to do?" she asked.

"You'll see," he whispered. "All in due time." She heard him quietly leave the room and pad down the carpeted hallway. He was gone for just a few minutes when she heard him return. She felt him sit on the bed next to her.

"Just relax my darling, and enjoy what I am about to do to you. I guarantee you will love it." With that said he leaned over and kissed her deeply, taking possession of her mouth, her tongue, and arousing her to a fevered pitch she couldn't have ever imagined from just a kiss. Upon releasing her lips from his, he reached over and tweaked her nipples, alternating between pinching lightly and licking them. He took his fingers once again and traced little circles over her belly, dropping ever further south with each cycle, until he reached the center of her womanhood. At this point, Heather felt him reach for something and immediately felt the chill and shock of an ice cube against her hot pussy lips.

"Ooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" she screamed. The stranger continued to rub the cube of ice in circles around her mound and pussy lips, taking special care not to overexpose and damage the delicate tissues of her pussy. The ice quickly melted away to water, leaving a strange, tingling sensation in its wake. This was followed by another ice cube, which the stranger slid across her already erect nipples. This intensified their hardness and once again Heather gasped at the heady sensations the ice was causing. Small rivulets of water streamed down her flat belly, followed closely by the stranger's hot hungry tongue. A third ice cube was introduced, but this time was inserted directly into her hot, throbbing pussy. Indeed, it quickly dissolved into water. Having done this, the stranger dipped his head down to her dripping lips and proceeded to lap up the mixture of her womanly arousal and ice water. He licked and nibbled at her pussy lips, deep tongued her pussy, but never touching on her clit, knowing it was the thing she desired and needed the most. Heather's body could not resist the onslaught of feelings he was creating, the burning ache she feel deep inside her pussy that was demanding relief. She squirmed against her restraints, trying to seek his fingers, his tongue, anything that would quench her thirst.