AN EROTIC STORY HOSTED BY IMPREGNORIUM.NET

Well, it's 3 in the morning and I've finally got the baby back to sleep awake.  She must be psychic, she always seems to know when I have an important client meeting first thing in the morning.  I figure there's no point in going back to bed, so I'll take this unwanted quiet time to tell you how I ended up a single mother at 33.

I work as a realtor and mortgage rep for a small neighborhood branch of a major realty company.  Until a year and a half ago, I was the top saleswoman in my region.  For six consecutive years I was the recipient of lavish trips to Hawaii, the Caribbean, Europe and all of the Disney theme parks, rewards for my performance for the company.  I built myself a nice nest egg, and I was well on my way to realizing my dream of retiring at age 40 and enjoying my golden years.  All that came to an end when Walter Fredland walked into my life.

Actually, Walter "call me Wally all my friends do" Fredland walked into our realty office.  The son of a junior VP in our company, Wally was sent to our office to learn the real estate business from the bottom up.  We quickly learned that real estate sales is considered the "bottom" by the junior VP.  Our office manager Cindy and I used to joke about how far "under the glass floor" she must be, if my job was the bottom of the corporate barrel. 

Wally was a decent looking single guy who must have majored in working out at the state school where he (and daddy) had graduated.  He claimed to be a "player", and spoke of dating several women casually, but he had no appeal to me or to any of the other women in our office.  He was arrogant about his appeal, probably the result of living a comfortable life, and he certainly didn't have the people skills to sell real estate.  Even with our support and tutelage, Wally couldn't land even the smallest of sales.  Not one to learn from the experience, Wally complained often about the foolishness of his customers.  After sixth month of Wally's sales struggles, my coworkers and I decided that the best way to help Wally achieve his dream (and to get him out of our hair) was to help him get a few sales in his name, make sure he got a few bucks in commissions, and watch as daddy rewarded Wally with a position in upper management.  Far, far from our office.

What Wally didn't (and never would) understand was that selling real estate, like in all businesses, is more than facts and figures.   Personality and charisma are just as important.  Yes, some houses and commercial buildings sell themselves, but in the end, one piece of property is like another.  People sell property, and my tactic is simple- sell myself, and the customer will buy the property.  I can be like a daughter to an older couple who are looking to buy a $500,000 home for their retirement.  I can be like a fellow saleswoman to a middle manager looking at a 9th floor office suite.  And yes, I'll use my sex appeal to make men ache for me- and a few women, too.  All's fair when a 10 percent commission is on the line.

Our plan to move Wally along worked, and we got a few commissions under his belt.  Wally was riding high on a $435,000 sale that my friend Bill Ruthers had pulled off after Wally's bungling.  Bill told me how hard it was on him when he watched Wally gleefully sign the closing papers and accept the commission.  Unfortunately, this led to Wally showing his arrogance and complaining that he deserved to start working on our premium properties, and making sales in excess of $500,000.  Corporate management seemed to agree, and our branch manager had no choice but to put Wally to work with me, as I handled the majority of the premium properties.  It wasn't long before Wally started acting cocky toward the other salespeople in our office, and made a few insinuations that he and I would be good together in more ways than one.  He wasn't bold enough to say anything that I could report to corporate human resources, but he was making his interest clear.  I couldn't be less interested in him.

Wally had scheduled an all-day open house on a Sunday at an unoccupied property that we'd previously appraised for $675,000 in a development not far from our office.  I was instructed to ride shotgun and to let Wally take the lead, but I was prepared to do what it took to move this property regardless of Wally's bungling.  I dressed for work that morning in a navy suit with a skirt that ended three inches above my knees, peach silk blouse, tan pantyhose and black five inch heels.  I was determined to catch the eye of some visitor and get at least a verbal commitment today, all the sooner to get Wally his "experience" and get him packing.  But this was to be a day of screw-ups, the first being that I didn't check the weather report- it was already passing 80 degrees at 8:00 in the morning.  It was going to be a hot, stuffy day.  At least I had my hair up.  A quick stop for an iced coffee helped, and I arrived at the property promptly at 8:30, half an hour before the open house.  Wally was nowhere to be seen, which didn't surprise me at all.  I set the open house sign in the front yard (always an acrobatic feat when I wear my heels) and unlocked the front door.  Yes, I predicted that Wally wouldn't be on time, so I carried the keys myself. 

Upon opening the front door of the property I was welcomed by the still, stale odor of a house that had not had air circulating for some time.  Clearly Wally hadn't stopped by yesterday to prep the property, as I had instructed him to do on every open house.  Grumbling, I found the thermostat and switched on the AC.  More precisely, I flipped a switch and nothing happened.  My guts clenched as I flipped light switches with no results.  A quick check of the breaker box, and a stop in the bathroom and kitchen to find no running water, and my fears were confirmed- Wally hadn't arranged for temporary utility service in this house!  This was going to be a long day.

Wally drifted in at 9:10, mumbling an apology about a traffic backup.  I can honestly say that I didn't see Wally at that moment- I saw Lucifer himself, inclusive of pitchfork and horns, wearing a Walter "call me Wally all my friends do" Fredland mask, cackling with glee at me. I gave Wally hell for his screw up.  Wally took my ranting with a shocked look on his face, and I thought he was going to cry.  Apparently no one but his daddy talks to him that way, and certainly not a woman.  I didn't really care, I was more than ready to buy him a plane ticket out of town. 

As the day wore on, we began to swelter in the house.  Opening the windows brought no relief- there was no breeze worth talking about.  We had a good volume of foot traffic to the home, but no one stayed very long when it became evident that there was no relief from the heat.  Before noon Wally had gone to the local market for a cooler, bottled water, and lots of ice.  We handed out quite a bit of water that afternoon, but we had no interest in the home despite Wally's "best" sales efforts.  And I wasn't exactly bringing my A-game, not with sweat pouring down my face and neck.  I'd ditched my jacket early in our time at Hell Manor and decided to risk wearing a silk blouse with no camisole in the stifling heat.  I also decided to be a trooper and wear the pantyhose for the duration.  I'm well aware of the power of my hosed legs on men, and I figured that a glimpse of bra and a longing gaze at my legs might be the advantage I would need if I were to make anything of this fiasco.

My risque tactics had an unfortunate consequence.  I caught Wally eyeing me several times.  The more I sweat, the less he tried to hide his attempts to undress me with his eyes.  He hadn't said much to me since my ass-chewing, and his leering made me a feel uncomfortable.  I just stayed out of his sight as much as I could, and waited for the day to end.

By 5:00 I had managed to get 2 couples to agree to come by our office for financing talks.  I also had the interest of a young man who had come into an inheritance and was thinking he had a chance of getting me into bed.  I gratefully left the house and put the open house sign into the Tahoe as Wally locked up.  I told Wally to go home, and that I would stop by the office to wrap up our day, but Wally insisted on seeing the job through to the end, and followed me to the office.

At least the AC was running in our office suite.  A quick stop to the restroom confirmed that I looked a wreck, so I spent a few minutes splashing water on my face and neck, toweling off, and freshening up for the ride home.  Then I walked to the back of our office to use our copier.  The copier was crammed in a small room containing several file cabinets and a table large enough for us to stack files for Cindy to manage.  Wally was nowhere nearby, which was fine with me.  The sooner I got the copies made and on Cindy's desk, the sooner I could get a nice shower and a bite to eat.

My back was to the door as I flipped the switch on the copier.  As it clunked through the warm-up routine, I opened the lid and reached to the papers I'd placed on the table to my left.  As I turned back to the copier, strong hands grabbed my shoulders and a firm body pushed me forward into the copier.  I barely got a "what the FUCK?" out of my mouth before the hands left my shoulders and grabbed a handful of my breasts.  Wally's hands, accented by his college fraternity ring.

I tried to squirm and push back, but Wally's body had me firmly pinned against the copier.  I felt his hot breath on my neck as he groped me.  Deciding that I wasn't going to push him off me, I leaned into his hands and moved my right foot between his feet.  I was about to kick my leg up and try to catch him in the balls with my heel, but he suddenly stepped back and flung me onto the table.  Damn, he was strong- he picked me up completely off the floor by my tits.  Yeah, that hurt.  The pearl buttons of my blouse popped and flew across the room while I was tossed like a rag-doll.

I landed badly on the table, thumping on my left side and cracking my head against the wall.  I saw stars for a moment, which was enough time for Wally to turn me on my back and position me so that my ass cheeks were at the edge of the table.  I felt him push my thighs open and step between them, despite my sluggish efforts to resist.  I flailed my hands at him, but he grabbed my wrists and held them easily in his left hand.  As he pushed my hands up over my head, I saw an odd, detached look- a mix of terror and lust.  As if he'd crossed a line he didn't ever expect to cross, and was now completing the evil deed because it was too late to turn back.  Fear gripped me as I looked into his eyes.

Since I was at a physical disadvantage, I tried reason with him.  I told him that, whatever he was doing, he needed to stop and we would talk about it.  I thought I was getting through to him, just for a moment.  He began to step back, and I should have just kept talking my way out of this.  But I was a fool.  Seizing the opening, I drew my left leg back to my chest, knee bent, aimed my foot at his head and kicked his face as hard as I could.  He managed to turn away just in time- he was either very lucky, or had great combat reflexes.  My heel grazed his cheek and caught his ear.  He bellowed in pain, and slapped the shit out of me.  I felt his strength in that slap, and was stunned to the point where I almost passed out from the shock of his blow.

I lay there in a daze, as I felt his hands on me again, pushing my bra around my neck and groping my tits.  I felt him fumbling between my thighs, and heard the sound of tearing fabric.  The thrust of his cock into my pussy snapped me out of my fog, and I fought with everything I had.  I scratched until he grabbed my wrists and pinned them to the table.  I kicked at his sides until I kicked out of both of my heels, then kicked some more.  Wally just took it and kept thrusting in to my sweat-slicked hole.  After about 30 seconds of his rape I felt my strength ebbing.  Wally was leaning hard on my arms, pinning my upper body to the table.  I could only support my legs on his pistoning hips, and they were aching with the effort I was putting into my kicks.  I lay still for a few moments, trying to slow my breathing, although I could not stop sobbing. 

Then Wally started to short-stroke me, and I had a mental image of his post-coital smug grin.  That image gave me a renewed burst of energy.  Some part of me screamed to get this prick out of my pussy, to deny him whatever satisfaction he might get from this rape.  I placed my stocking-clad feet on his hips and timed his thrusts as I watched his face.  I waited until he closed his eyes and opened his mouth to scream his orgasm.  I waited a moment further, until I felt his penis throb in me and spew the first sticky wad of semen.  Then I put every ounce of my strength into arching my back and pushing with my legs. 

I caught Wally off-guard and weak from his orgasm.  He staggered back 2 steps, pulling his spewing cock from me, and tripped backward over the slacks that were tangled at his knees.  I wasted no time in rolling to my side and sliding down to the floor, intending to make a run for the door to our office suite.  Unfortunately I had little strength left, and I collapsed to my knees.  I crawled out of the copy room into the office common area, my gaze fixed firmly on the front door and escape.  I was within arm's reach of the door when I felt something crack me on the back of the head.  Then I felt darkness.

I woke a little before midnight, still on the floor in front of the door to the office suite.  I slowly got to my feet and walked out the unlocked door.  My car was parked in front of the office, but Wally's car was nowhere to be seen.  I walked back inside and went to the bathroom.  My pantyhose no longer had a crotch, and were torn and run at the knees from my crawling.  My panties were torn off my right side and were hanging around my left thigh, tangled in what was left of my pantyhose.  I removed my destroyed undergarments and used my slip as a washrag to remove cum stains from my thighs and to wipe the small trickle of semen from my vagina.  I claimed my shoes from the copy room, barely noticing the crusty white stains on the carpet in the middle of the room.  I tossed my soiled and tattered undergarments in an outside trash can and drove home.

Only after I had arrived at home and had taken a long, hot shower did I think that the police would need some evidence of the rape if I were to press charges.  This thought demoralized me, and I went to bed.  I woke at about noon the next day and called my boss to tell him that I was under the weather and that I would be in the next day.  I asked if Wally was in, and my boss told me that Wally had been in an automobile accident the night before and that he was in the hospital.  Thanking karma for this news, I fell back to sleep.

I'd barely walked into the office the following morning before Cindy ran into my office and closed the door behind her.  Cindy opened a manila envelope and handed me a series of papers that she said were on the copier tray on Monday morning.  The pages were dark and blurred, but I coould distinctly see Wally's hands grabbing a my breasts.  I shuffled the copies hurriedly, looking for any clear views of my face.  I felt a chill go down my spine and settle in my stomach as Cindy excitedly said that she knew who this was.  She then flipped a couple of pictures and showed me a nice clear shot of Wally' fraternity ring.  Cindy told me that when she got to work yesterday morning, she found Wally's Sunday open house documents scattered around the room, and it was obvious that Wally had picked up one of his girlfreinds after the open house, brought her to the office while he was dropping off his paperwork and fucked her in our copy room.  She said that she noticed cum stains on the carpet and had to pick up some buttons off the floor.  Laughing, Cindy told me to keep the pictures, and that she'd already quietly distributed copies of "Wally's Nightlife" to some of our coworkers.  I was shocked that I hadn't heard or noticed the copier running during my rape, and even more shocked that no one would know that those were her breasts in the copies. 

I sat down in my office and savored my good fortune for a moment.  As I pondered whether to call the police immediately or to wait until I paid Wally a visit in the hospital, I got my second shock of the day.  Our branch manager received a call from corporate, informing us that Wally had died of his injuries.  I could help making a yelp of joy, which I quickly covered by putting my face in my hands and faking a couple of sobs.  No one picked up on my exclamation of joy, and I was careful not to smile too big the rest of the day.

While I'll never forget the rape, Wally' death helped me to put it behind me and get back to my routine.  All was well until I missed my period at the end of that month, and missed the next one.  I went to my OB/GYN , who gave me the unhappy news that I was carrying Wally's baby.  Making matters worse was that I had a medical condition that made an abortion a very risky procedure, so I decided to have the baby.  Our daughter was born 7 months later.  I wasn't sure how I'd feel about it, but as soon as I saw her angelic face I fell in love with her in a way that Wally would never have known. 

It's been tough, I never expected to be a 33 year old single mother.  My nest egg is mostly gone, as I only work part time now.  But not to worry, Wally' daddy is about to receive a package in the mail from me.  Nothing much, just some old photocopies, a photo and DNA profile of his granddaughter, pearl button and a small swatch of my panties- stained with his son's semen.  Yes, I think that my daughter and I will be doing fine from now on.