Side Thread -- Cramer and Abigail

[Belinda35]

Abigail
As she had feared, he opened her skirt and it glided down to the ground, leaving he in tights and her panties. She felt him fumbling her butt through the fabriqe, then he pushed her over, and put her into the position that she feared she would end up. She felt his large cock rubbing over her tight, until it was at her entrance... He couldn't force it through the tights and panties, or could he? She whimpered a little. She hadn't anything inside there for quite a while, and she knew that woman got narrow again after some time of abstinence...and she was dry, so there would be no lubricant.

 

[AGuyWhoWrites]

Cramer's erection with beginning to twitch with anticipation. He grasped at the waist line of her tights and jerked them down, struggling against Abigail's attempts to keep them in place. "Relax, Abby baby. It'll all be over soon..."

He managed to get the tights and panties down off her cheeks, and -- keeping her down with one powerful hand upon her back -- reached between her thighs, slipping his extended longer fingers forward, delving, searching. As she began to whimper just a bit, he found her pussy and began groping it as he had her breasts, playing his fingers around, feeling for her hole, searching for her clit.

She was dry, not like the horny Samantha who'd practically been a river of bodily fluids even before Cramer had gotten her panties off those three nights in his motel room. As he thought about the young pizza girl, his anger level began to rise again; he pushed his groin against Abigail's back side again, squishing his wrist hard against her rectum, his hand further between her thighs. He wanted Samantha and he knew he'd never have her again; that was what this was about. Cramer had never raped a woman before, although on occasion he'd been later accused of pushing a woman into sex sooner than she'd wanted to, but -- in his typically male mind -- that wasn't nearly the same thing at all.

"Are you ready for me, Abby baby?" Cramer asked, slipping a foot between the woman's feet and kicking them farther apart. He continued his very intrusive adventuring at her pussy, trying to get her wet enough to let him in, but her body wasn't cooperating. He mumbled, more to himself than to the bank teller, "C'm'on, Abby ... I thought you'd be wet for me. Don't tell me you don't want this..."

 

[Belinda35]

Abigail

Abigail made a startled sound, but quickly shut up again.Her feets were apart, and her tights and panties that were pulled down, but not completely off blocked her movements. She looked in the mirror from her downward position, and closed her eyes.

 

[AGuyWhoWrites]

Cramer directed his erection into Abigail, pushing against her dry, resistance. He continued to growl his sweet nothings to her and he fought to penetrate her, bringing both hands to her buttocks to grasp and spread them, which helped very little.

Suddenly he was in her, just enough to feel the head of his dick beginning to be enveloped by her. He pulled out a bit, inserted himself again, and repeated, again and again, until the slight moisture she was producing was beginning to lubricate him. When he thought she was ready, he gripped her hips and pushed with all his might...

 

[Belinda35]

Abigail

Abigail was softly wailing during his efforts to penetrate her. Still not wet, his rubbing had a little reaction, but she was far from being relaxed. There was a short squeal of pain as he finally penetrated her, and her eyes popped up wide as he drove into her. She looked into her face in the mirror, her eyes wide in terror and her mouth open, pain and shock on her features. Her large breast were squeezed on the counter, and she could see her tornementor standing behind her, holding her hips, a crazy expression on his face.

 

[AGuyWhoWrites]

Cramer was pounding forcefully into Abigail, her fluids just sufficient enough to allow him movement. With every thrust, he grunted with exertion and building pleasure. Her near-dryness made her tight, restricted him, only making the pleasure greater. She wasn't the tight, wet, youthful fuck that the pizza girl had been, but -- in his raging, illogical mind -- she was close enough.

He leaned into her, his hands gripping her hips so fiercely that later she would discover finger bruises in her sides. His anger was still present, his eyes closed, and his thoughts on those nights in the motel with the pizza girl who'd slept with him as much out of pity as out of her own youthful lust for pleasure and excitement.

Cramer's mind was so engulfed in thoughts of Samantha that he'd failed to sense his oncoming orgasm. He was surprised as he climaxed, exploding into the teller with a loud, animal-like grunt that echoed about the small bathroom.

His thrusts came to a sudden stop as he fell forward, one hand supporting his weight upon the counter, the other pressing down upon the small of Abigail's back. His mind swam with euphoria as the ecstasy flooded him...

He was unaware of Abigail's reaction -- he had ignored her from the moment he penetrated her -- and wouldn't have cared if he'd noticed it. Abigail wasn't there; she never had been. Cramer, as he'd wanted when he'd first seen the pizza truck outside, had once again had his beautiful, young Samantha ... and it had been good...

 

[Belinda35]

Abigail
Abigail could not help to whimper softly each time he rammed into her, but she wailed as she suddenly felt him cumming into her, filling her up with his fluids. She dropped her face to the counter and kept wailing, even after he finished thrusting into her so hard.

 

[AGuyWhoWrites]

Cramer slumped onto Abigail's backside, his first conscious thought being to mumble to her, "Shut up..."

As she continued to wail, her reached around to clamp a hand over her mouth, growling, "Shut ... up!

She continued crying into his hand, and Cramer suddenly found himself regretting what he'd done. He felt no compassion for her; not yet, although later, when he got his mind wrapped around the rape, he would. No, his regret was from realizing that now he had to deal with this whimpering woman. He had to shut her up, and he had to restrain her; he hadn't thought of such things as his lust cause him to begin mauling the teller.

"Shut up," he repeated yet again. When her cries into his hand continued, he switched hands and pulled the throwing knife from its temporary parking space in the small of his back and pressed it to her neck, the cold, flat side against her skin to ensure she felt it. "Shut up! Or I'll give you another big fucking hole to make noise through."

He pulled his hips back, withdrawing from her. He rose from Abigail's back -- setting the knife onto her spine -- then reached to his waist with both hands and, while redressing himself, growled to her, "Keep your mouth shut and you'll get out of this alive."

 

[Belinda35]

Abigail

Abigail shut up as soon as she felt the cold steel on her neck. So she kept in her position, not knowing what to do. Her panties and her tights were hanging down on her ankles, while she rested her stripped upper body on the counter, avoiding to look at her own face in the mirror.

 

[AGuyWhoWrites]

He wasn't sure what he'd heard at first, and when he did, he quickly pulled the Desert Eagle from his hip holster and pointed it toward the door.

"Whoa! Whoa!" Taylor hollered, quickly ducking out of view. "Stand down! Cramer, stand down!"

Cramer pulled the gun back just as quickly as he'd pointed it at his friend. His entire body was suddenly enveloped by a cold chill, although he wasn't -- and never would be -- sure whether it was because he'd nearly killed his friend or been caught raping an innocent woman.

He backed away from Abigail, holstering the big pistol and quickly completing his buckling and zipping. Once finished -- and practically standing at attention -- he called out, "Clear! We're good, we're..."

He looked at the woman slumped over the counter, her bare white ass facing him, her panties and tights twisted about her calves and ankles. She was still sobbing but, after his threat with the sharp blade, into one of her hands. He realized he was becoming unsteady; he backed away from her until he was against the bathroom stall, asking himself, Jesus ... what did you just do ...? What the fuck ... did you just do?

He hadn't even noticed Taylor's entrance into the bathroom. The Crew's leader was at the counter next to Abigail, talking unheard to her, taking her into his hands. Cramer only half understood what was happening before him; his mind was swimming again -- even more so than when it had been swamped with euphoria -- and all about him was just a blur.

He turned and walked away, leaving Taylor and Samantha behind...



Taylor curled around the door frame and dropped to his knees, knowing that the .50 Caliber bullet would easily go through the wall, his body, and likely down the open hall, out a window, and a quarter mile through the neighborhood before it lodged in a tree or a brick wall ... or a cop. From his crouch he hollered, "Whoa! Whoa...! Stand down! Cramer, stand down!"

He waited, his heart pounding; he'd pulled his own weapon instinctively and, realizing who he'd nearly had a shoot out with, carefully returned the hammer to its safe position. A moment later, he heard his cohort call out, ""Clear! We're good, we're..."

Taylor reached a foot out to push the bathroom door open slowly, then took a peek inside from his crouch with a quick head jerk. Cramer was standing in the middle of the bathroom, weapon holstered, hands at his side; he was at attention, or close to it.

Taylor looked back down the hall and found Grimes watching him with a concerned look. Taylor waved him off with the all's well gesture, then told him, "Watch the hostages! We're good!"

Grimes hesitated, but did as he was told.

Taylor peeked inside the bathroom again; Cramer wasn't in view. He stood and made his way inside cautiously. His right hand man was back against the bathroom stall, his weight unsteadily against it. His heart turned over at the sight, both at the mostly naked woman on the counter and at his friend, who looked about ready to collapse onto the floor. "Jesus-fucking-Christ, Tommy-boy ... what've you done?"

Taylor moved to his friend, checking him, asking him if he was okay. Cramer didn't acknowledge him, didn't make eye contact; he was in another world. Carefully, Taylor pulled the Desert Eagle from its unsnapped holster and slipped it into his belt at the small of his back. He repeated his question of concern, yet still got no response.

He looked over his shoulder to the woman, then moved to her. Cramer had raped her, there was no doubt about that. Taylor was surprised by his friend's actions; to the best of his knowledge, the man had never done anything like this. Taylor took hold of the woman's arms, fearing she would collapse uncontrollably to the floor.

"Ma'am, are you alright?" he asked with a soft, compassionate voice. "Ma'am ... can hear me...?"

 

[Belinda35]

Abigail

"uhh..ohh... yes..." she said faintly, while she bent her body upwards, standing again, seeing her own reflection now ith another man. She felt her remaining clothes at her ankles, but in the mirror she just saw her nude body, looking somehow surreal together with the dressed man at her side, all in the not very large employers toilet room. There were marks of tears on her face, but she wasn't crying right now, she wondered why. Suddenly it all felt unreal.

 

[AGuyWhoWrites]

The woman was in shock, Taylor knew, or not far from it. Years earlier during an undercover stint with the Shore Patrol, and then a few months later on a raid into an Afghanistan province, he'd discovered and had to deal with rape victims. He hadn't been very good at it then -- his innately compassionate nature for woman always turned his stomach over at such sexual violence -- and he found himself at a loss of what to do about it now.

"You need to sit down," he said, and -- knowing she wouldn't be able to walk -- leaned her back, scooped her into his arms, and carried her to a cushioned chair against the nearest wall. Her sweater blouse, which looked to have been sliced up the back side, hung between her elbows; her bra, also cut, was stretched across her chest above full breasts that, later, Taylor would chastise himself for wondering, Are they real, or are they Memorex?; and her panties and tights -- the only part of her attire that appeared intact -- were tangles about her calves and tights.

"Listen, sit here," he told her softly. He tried to help her cover herself, but it was hopeless; her clothes were destroyed and of no use in concealing her. "Listen ... I'm going to go find you something to wear, okay? You just sit here ... are you hearing me, ma'am...?"

 

[Belinda35]

Abigail

"Yes, Yes..." Abigail set down at the chair. She even got herself together enough to pull up her panties and her tights. She looked for her skirt, it should be allright, as far as she could renember. She dropped off the bra, it was no more use. But she picked up the remains of her sweater and hold it before her breasts with her hands. At least that would cover something.

 

[AGuyWhoWrites]

OOC -- The events in the Side Thread are beginning to move out into the main lobby and may begin to effect the other Characters more, so I am going to end it here. Use this link to return to exactly where you left the Main Thread to get to this Side Thread.