My sensual criminals

"Mother? Father?" I try, but there's no answer either. I lean over the side of the bed and turn on the bedside lamp, but nothing happens and I'm alone in the dark. Is the light gone? I hear a scratching sound, closer this time, and I stiffen with fear. "Who is it?" I whisper in a hoarse, terrified voice, but, of course, there is no answer. There is a soft, creaking sound next to the wall, and suddenly I realize we are being robbed. The Dali is on that wall and the intruder must be cutting it out of the frame right now.

My heart is pounding - how is that possible? The penthouse is set up like Fort Knox, with security cameras everywhere and a 24/7 security device. Who are they and how did they get into my room? I look back to the window, the curtains carelessly open. How did they get into the penthouse of a Manhattan skyscraper? And why don't they care that I'm awake? Don't they see me as a threat? I'm a witness who could jeopardize their entire operation.

But I have no more time to think because suddenly there is a struggle and I am pinned against the bed with a rough hand covering my mouth to stifle my scream. Other large hands pin me against the mattress and I can't move a muscle. I try to breathe, terrified, wild-eyed, trying to make out my assailants. I glimpse in the darkness the silhouettes of two huge, burly men holding me effortlessly. A mixture of fear and excitement runs through my body in a strange mix that confuses me. What's wrong with me? How can I feel excited about two criminals trying to rob us? It must be those novels. I make a mental note to stop reading them, as they are clearly turning me into a depraved sex addict who doesn't recognize danger when it's literally right in front of her.

"We don't have time for this," growls a baritone to my left. I think he's the one covering my mouth with his hand, practically wrapping his palm around my entire face. "Let's knock her out and get the hell out of here." At this, I start squirming and emitting muffled screams into his hand. He shakes me roughly, muffling my screams.

"I don't knock her out. It's too dirty," says another low growl from my right. I squirm again, biting the skin of the hand pressing against my mouth. The man on the left grunts, confirming my suspicions that it was him. "This bitch is feisty. I'm not in the mood for altercations," he whispers, annoyance in his deep voice. Odd, they don't talk the way I expect thieves to talk. They sound polite and almost refined, rather than rude and coarse. "Take your hand away from his face. Let's see who we're dealing with," says the one on my right. I nod fervently, eliciting a deep growl from my left.

"Don't scream, little girl, or you'll be sorry," he snores. Another fervent nod from me causes me to release my mouth, but the rest of me remains pinned to the bed. My eyes have adjusted a bit to the darkness, so I can make out a bit more of my assailants' physique. Their shoulders are broad and strong, their breasts the width of a truck, and the hands holding me are heavy, yet strangely soft. I see flashes of blue eyes as they stare at me, and black hair falls over their foreheads. That's all I can make out of their dark silhouettes, but it's enough to know that they are gorgeous men like the ones in my romance novels. I wonder if they're as gifted as my heroes or if Isa is right and such things don't exist in real life. "Don't kill me," I whisper in a weak voice. But it's unnecessary. As dangerous as these men look, I know they are not killers. They hold me with firm hands, but they don't hurt me. Besides, if they wanted to kill me, they would have done it by now. Instead, the two men pounce on me, breathing hard and looking at my curvaceous body through the thin nightgown, but they say nothing.

"Please," I continue. "I won't be a problem. Let me go." I hear them breathing agitatedly left and right as they remain motionless. My breasts heave with excitement - what's wrong with me?

But it is real because there is an electric current flowing between our bodies, connected by their hands on my skin. I realize that the two men feel it too, by their silence and their loud gasps of oxygen. The one on my right clears his throat softly.

"Don't knock her out, then," he rasps, to my relief. "Give her this to take her mind off everything." Fear comes over me like a bucket of cold water. I don't see what she's talking about, but being drugged sounds as bad as being knocked unconscious. I don't want to be unconscious while terrible things happen to my body.

"Wait!" I interrupt in a whisper. "I can make you a deal."

"What kind of deal?" the one to my left growls under his breath. I swallow my breath, choosing my words carefully. I've been waiting for this moment for so long and have fantasized about it in so many different ways.... can I really let it happen like this?

"I'm a virgin," I whisper. I hear the men's labored breathing. Their apparent excitement stimulates me. "Take my innocence," I continue. "Don't hurt me and I promise I won't tell anyone about you."

The glint in his blue eyes tells me they are watching my body. Her hands loosen a little and one of them shifts to caress a large breast. I moan with arousal and feel a current of lust run through me like a bolt of lightning. I've never had a man touch me like this before, and I've definitely never had a man touch my breasts like this, forcing a sound of involuntary lust. The man to my right is obviously curious about his partner in misdeeds and releases one hand to squeeze my other breast, holding it firmly while breathing heavily.

A surge of desire for these men makes me delirious. Only vaguely present, on the periphery of my consciousness, is the knowledge that I am being held down and groped by two criminals who have broken into my parents' house. They have come to rob us and yet I am exchanging my virginity because I want to. On one level, it's because I don't want to get hurt, but on another, I know it's because I really want to.

The fear dissipates and, in fact, is mixed with an excitement so strong that I am delirious. All I want is to feel their bodies on mine, to surrender my innocence to them and finally experience the release I have so longed for. Being possessed and held by two criminals, seemingly against my will, is the most intoxicating and exciting thing I can think of, and my previous worries about being a freak melt away. Maybe I am, and maybe this is the only way to satisfy me, but I've waited my whole life for this, and I don't want to go back.

A moan of pleasure escapes my lips as the two men continue to caress me, their hands fondling my tits as I tremble under their hands. A deft finger grazes my right nipple, and I almost dissolve right there from how good it feels. "Ohhhh," I sigh as I stir under his caresses. "More.

The men stroke me a little harder and a little squeal escapes me. Oh my God, my parents are going to find out, but the criminals don't seem to flinch.

"She's gorgeous and so fucking receptive. Why not?" the one on my right growls between gritted teeth. "It'll be fun.