There are two perspectives in this story, which are noted by CAPITAL NAMES. Hope you enjoy, please leave feedback.
Let me describe a woman to you. She’s eighteen years old, about five-foot-five, and probably around a hundred and ten or so pounds. Now that we've gotten the statistics out of the way, let me paint her picture in your mind. Straight, black hair frames a pale face, whose complexion is dotted with hundreds of freckles. High cheekbones, large, piercing, blue eyes, full, pouting lips, and a thin, pointed nose, structure this canvas. Her ears perk out from her head wider than normal, but that only compliments her features. Her neck is long, thin and elegant, and sits atop a narrow set of shoulders. Moving down her frame, we see a bust that protrudes vulgarly from the yellow spandex of her shirt. Each dome is shaped perfectly; creasing at the center and bursting from the constraints of her clothing. Her belly is flat, and beneath the yellow tightness of her shirt, I can see the tone outline of an athletic abdomen. Further down, we find a set of wide hips. Adorning these hips, is the kind of ass that makes your mouth water. Full, thick glutes protrude in ovals that crease perfectly at the thigh. Her black, spandex, leggings seem to dig vulgarly between the division of these cheeks, and they each jiggle with a delightful bounce as she walks. Her thighs are thick and toned, and narrow into knees, which in turn, narrow into a pair of running shoes.
“Sounds great,” you might say, “but why the fuck did you tell me what she looks like with clothes on?”
Well, reader; I don’t know what she looks like naked. I don’t even know her name. The description I’m giving you is what I’m looking at right now, because this girl goes to my gym, and the only interaction I’ve ever had with her, has been awkward eye contact, and waiting at the drinking fountain. To put in nicely…I’m a fucking loser. You’ve heard this story before, haven’t you? Right now, you’re thinking: “This can either go one of two ways: he’ll get the girl because she’s secretly attracted to him, or he’ll just straight-up rape her.”
Well, reader, you’re right on both accounts.
Let me describe a man to you. He’s in his late twenties, about six feet tall, and probably around a hundred and eighty pounds or so. Now that we've gotten the statistics out of the way, let me paint his picture in your mind. He’s got a bald, shaved head that narrows into a tanned face, whose complexion is shadowed with a thick wrap of stubble. A pronounced brow, brown eyes, handsome nose and strong jaw structure this canvas. His ears press flat against the sides of his bald head, which gives him a very stream-lined look. His neck is thick, and falls into a pair of tapered traps. His shoulders slope slightly, but the tone of musculature is there, and they connect to a set of veined biceps and jutting triceps. His forearms are vascular and strong, and seem to ripple with tendons as he moves them. His hands are also strong; thin skin and scars revealing the hard conditions they’ve endured. Moving down his frame, we see a set of pecs that push his shirt forward from his chest. His cut-off T drapes over a toned abdomen that is only revealed when he stretches. Further down, we find a set of narrow hips. Adorning these hips, is the kind of ass that makes your mouth water. Firm, toned buns perch atop grizzled, thick thighs. His blue, loose gym shorts reveal the prize that rests between his legs: a bulge that sways teasingly back and forth as he walks.
“Sounds great,” you might say, “but why the fuck did you tell me what he looks like with clothes on?”
Well, reader; I don’t know what he looks like naked. I don’t even know his name. The description I’m giving you is what I’m looking at right now, because this man goes to my gym, and the only interaction I’ve ever had with him, has been awkward eye contact, and waiting at the drinking fountain. To put in nicely…I’m a fucking coward. You’ve heard this story before, haven’t you? Right now, you’re thinking: “This can either go one of two ways: she’ll get the guy because he’s secretly attracted to her, or she’ll just straight-up fuck him.”
Women can rape too, but I’d be hard-pressed to do that to this man. Anyway, the reason I haven’t made my desires known, the reason I’m too scared to initiate conversation with him, is because I’m a virgin. I was a late bloomer, and the lack of experience in high school has made me painfully awkward. He’s obviously an experienced man who would have no interest in me. I’m an undergrad at this university, and he’s at least a graduate student, if not a professor. I don’t see a ring on his finger, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t taken. I wish he’d take me. I wish he’d just…cut through the song-and-dance bullshit of flirting, and strip me naked in the bathroom. No…pull down my leggings and take me with my clothes on. Press my face against the mirror and force me to watch my defilement as my desperate breaths fog the glass.
OK; calm down Alice. This happens to me a lot. My sexual repression often manifests itself as violent pornographic desires. At least, that’s what the school psychologist said when I had a breakdown sophomore year of high school. I just need to narrow my focus, and take it one step at a time. Do I want this man? Yes. How does a female usually get a man? By existing. Well if that’s the case, why haven’t I gotten one yet? Because you’re an awkward mess of social anxiety who scares everyone away. Well, how do I solve that? You don’t. You just internalize your problems, and then masturbate furiously in your dorm room; you fucking loser.
BACK ON TRACK, ALICE! Sorry reader, my mind wanders.
So, how do I get baldy inside me? Maybe, if I lead him on, he’ll get the message. I just don’t have the experience to know how to do that. Hell, the only sexual experience I have is fingering myself in front of a computer screen displaying BDSM gangbangs. I like to imagine I’m the woman in ropes, dangling helplessly from some contraption, while the men brutally take their turns inside me. A man in my pussy, another in my ass…railing mercilessly into me…berating me, degrading me…
OK, where was I? Seducing the bald guy, that’s what I was trying to do. If I do squats right in front of him, and really stick my ass out there, maybe he’ll do something. If not…
Whatever; I’ll just finish my workout and flick the bean in my dorm. It’s just hormones anyway.
The gym is quiet tonight, and the last man has checked out. It’s just me and the girl, working out in a silent room, the only sounds are the clanking of weights and the muted blare of music from ear buds. She’s doing squats in the mirror, her ass pushing out teasingly from her arched back as soft tones of feminine strain flow from her luscious lips. Her gaze levels with mine in the mirror, and then rapidly darts back to her own. She’s not interested, will never be interested. I sigh to myself.
Whatever; I’ll just finish my workout and jerk off in my apartment. It’s just hormones anyway.
I finish the last set of my curls, and wipe my brow with the towel. I take one last greedy look at the best ass I’ve ever seen, and then head to the locker room. At least I’ve got something for the spank bank.
Hey, where the fuck are you going?
I thought the moaning squats would have gotten something out of him, but I all I got was a look. And then I fucking blew it by breaking eye-contact in an anxiety-induced panic. Goddamn it, I’m a fucking loser. I thought he might’ve stolen a peek as he was leaving, but he was probably just glancing at something innocuous. I finish my last set (which I was only doing for him in the first place), and rack the bar. My pale skin is glistening with sweat, and I need a shower before I go back to the dorm. I turn off the metal band blaring in my ears, Meshuggah: Rational Gaze is the headbanger I’m working out to. That’s all that guy gave me; a rational gaze, nothing more. He’s not interested, will never be interested. I sigh to myself, and head for the locker room.
I couldn’t wait for the apartment. The locker room was empty, and half the fluorescents were turned off, so I figured, why not? That ass bending over in that spandex…the way her crack peaked from the top…the way her cheeks creased down the middle of her tight cloth…
My hand strokes myself hard, and I lie back on the bench. I’m in the corner, past several rows of lockers where no one could see me, if anyone comes in here, I'll have ample time to pull my pants up and hide my erection, but no one will. The gym closes in twenty minutes, and they don’t even bother locking up most of the time. I can just lie back, relax, and think of that squatting ass forming against spandex…
I wonder what I’ll fantasize about tonight? The bald man curling, the vein in his bicep protruding from the thin skin of his arm. The way his forearms rippled with tendons as they strained against the weight, the way his strong hands clenched the bar in a white-knuckled grasp. I want him to touch me like that…his strong hands gripping the fat of my ass…spreading me wide open…pushing inside me…
I step into the locker room and sigh. I can’t wait to go back to the dorm. The locker room is empty, and half the fluorescents are turned off, so why not?
I straddle a wooden bench tentatively, trying to figure out how best to simulate my fantasy. Do I ride him, or does he take me missionary? No, he takes me from behind. I shift my weight forward, my left hand planted palm-down on the bench, my torso bending until its parallel with the seat. My right hand (my boyfriend, as sad as that is), sneaks behind me and slides between my cheeks.
Was that a voice? Did I just hear a female voice in the men’s locker room? The fucking cleaning lady must’ve thought the place was empty. I wait for a second, my heart beating in my chest, my body not moving a muscle. If someone finds me here, the way I am, I’ll lose my tenure for sure. I just need to pull these shorts up…yeah, there’s no hiding this boner. The showers are right across the aisle from me. If I can get there without being noticed, I’ll be in the clear. I stand up, my rock-hard cock jutting comically from my shorts. I turn around so that I’m facing the far wall. I’ll just side-step my way to the shower with my back turned, and the cleaning lady won’t see what I’m packing. Just a few, easy steps. I take my first step, nonchalantly looking over my shoulder as I do. Something catches my eye, something black and yellow. And pale.
I like fingering myself from behind. Sliding my palm against the soft flesh of my ass, circling the spokes of my anus with my pinky while my other three fingers push inside. The thumb of course, does its work on my clit, and through my years of practice (God, I’m so lonely), I’ve perfected the art of masturbation. You gotta start slow, working yourself up to it, gently sliding inside and softly stimulating the clit and ass. Then you grind a little harder with your fingers, rub that wonderful spot on your ceiling, work the clit just a little more, and push to the first knuckle in your anus. That’s it…just like that. Now, work your wrist slowly, back and forth, in and out...
“Ohhh fuck,” I moan to myself as I penetrate my two holes, “right there, Gym-Guy...”
Gym-Guy? Is that the name I’m giving him? How about Rob, or Blake? No time to think about that. My three fingers curl at the knuckle inside me and push harder against my ceiling. A breathy, near-silent gasp murmurs from my slightly-parted lips. My thumb presses down on my clit and rubs with a bit more force. My brow furrows, the lines of my forehead creasing as the gasp turns to a moan. My pinky slides all the way inside my ass, slowly moving in and out as I savor the sinful sensation. My lips part even wider, and the tenor of my moan rises to a whimper.
And that’s when I notice it. A urinal, in the women’s locker room. This isn’t the women’s locker room. And if I’m in the men’s locker room, and Gym Guy came here to shower…
That ass I was fantasizing about? The one I told you I never saw naked? Well, I’m looking right at it, and it’s naked. It’s naked, and full, and occupied with a single finger. Unblemished pale skin smooths over two perfect, round surfaces that separate down the middle and expose the two, tight, pink openings between them. Her spandex leggings are pulled down, and the waistband digs into the bottom of her cheeks, pushing her perfect ass upward. Her palm presses against a single cheek, imprinting delectable creases of supple flesh, hinting at the texture of the skin, and the fat beneath it. Her pinky occupies her anus, moving slowly in and out, expanding the spokes that ring it ever so slightly. Three fingers push ardently into the glistening lips of her womanhood, gently opening her petals and exposing the delectable pink flesh inside. She’s moaning something under her breath that I can’t hear. She’s shifting back and forth on her knees, her ass spreading wide with every retreat, revealing everything she’s doing to herself.
Reader, don’t judge me. I know the gentlemanly thing would be to slowly back up, and then make some noise at the far end of the locker room to alert her that someone is here, but that no one saw her. But I’m not a gentleman. I’m a depraved, borderline desperate man, and this is just too much. My primal instincts kick in, flooding my brain with single-minded determination. I am going to fuck this woman.
The sound of footsteps grow in my ears. They’re behind me, and they’re coming closer! I whip my head around, my eyes widening as I realize I’ve been caught. I catch a glimpse of tan, muscled skin coming behind me, and I open my mouth to say something, anything that could explain this. Before my vision can focus, before I even have time to say a thing, strong hands are upon me.
A muscular, veiny forearm wraps itself tightly around my neck. A man’s hand sinks into the pale fat of my ass. My throat lurches out a constricted scream for help, but it’s too quiet. It’s too late. My fear of embarrassment was misplaced; I should have been afraid of something far worse.
I’m lifted up and pressed against the lockers. My left cheek pushes against the cold metal, my full breasts deform from my pressing body, my pelvis is forced against the rigid grate. His breath is hot on my neck, his sand-paper stubble brushes coarsely against my soft skin. His hard body presses against my back, and I feel the rigid thing throbbing against my tailbone.
“Stop!” I manage to squeak out.
He doesn’t answer me. He loosens the grip on my neck, but catches my wrists before I can deliver an elbow to his face. He secures the other hand, and then both my palms are pinned flat against the locker just above my head. His lifted arms deliver the smell of his musk into my nostrils, and some primal sense in my mind revels in it. He kicks my foot to the side, spreading my legs wide for him. I feel his throbbing cock sliding down the base of my spine and split the crease of my ass. His rigid heat brushes past my puckered rim, and an involuntary shutter runs through me. He continues forward, splitting the wet lips of my pussy with his cock, drenching his length with my juices. Back and forth he goes, teasing the entrance, forcing my body to betray my mind and release more of my nectar for him. I whimper in fear and a touch of arousal. The latter alarms me…I can’t be enjoying this, can I?
Before the thought has time to fester, the man makes his move. His cock pushes my tender petals inward, and then drives his full length into me. It courses through my womanhood, reaching untouched skin deep inside of me. A moment of physical pain is accompanied by a torrent of emotional agony. I just lost my virginity by getting raped in the men’s locker room. I cry out in dismay, but the new feeling of something so hard and so warm, so deep inside me, stops my breath mid-scream. New nerves that have never been touched are now crying out their glee from my insides. My tight erogeneity seems to open up for the man raping me. I struggle against the conflict of my body and mind, and try to break free in a vain thrash. He holds my arms above my head easily, and then thrusts again, and again, and again.
His pelvis smacks against the fat of my ass in a fleshy rhythm. Every slap of skin-on-skin is accompanied by a pathetic whimper from myself. The sound is soft, breathy and feminine, and escapes my lips without my permission. I want to stay silent, to not give the man the satisfaction of my reaction, but I can’t help it. The whimper leaves my slightly parted lips with every filling thrust; a vocalized response to the covetous stretching of my inner reaches. It’s a mixture of fear and dismay, at least, I hope that’s what it sounds like. Because I’m afraid I know what that sound really means, and I’m afraid he knows it too: it feels good.
The two supple cheeks push into my pelvis with every thrust; squishing delectably about my driving body and jiggling in a slight ripple upon impact. God, that ass feels good against me. I’ve never been in a pussy this tight before. If I didn’t know better, I’d think this girl was a virgin. Her pussy grips me like a vice with every motion of my hips; her lower lips stretching from her pelvic floor as I pull out, and hugging inward as I thrust forward. She’s whimpering softly beneath her breath as I drive into her, and her pathetic feminine tones awaken the hunter part of my brain; the part that says to drive harder and faster. So, I do, my hands still securing hers above her head, my chest and abs pressed against her spandex-clad back, my hips pounding relentlessly against the sweet, soft fat that gives way to me with every drive. The locker she’s pressed against starts to rattle with the force of my thrusts. Her breathing turns to soft panting as the exertion of the sex takes hold of her. Her blue eyes are closed tightly, the lines on her face standing out as the strain becomes apparent in her expression.
Slap, slap, slap. My pelvis smacks against her ass; my chest heaves against her back, pressing her harder against the lockers. Pant, pant, pant. Her breathing is pained and heavy; short breaths exhaled, and soft, exerted tones inhaled. She’s frothing for me now, her feminine instincts compelling her body to enjoy this, to take me in, to squeeze me all the way through her. Her vaginal muscles are tense and gripping, and their hold on me is only accentuated by the spasms that now course through her. She pushes her face harder against the cold metal of the locker, and tries to hold in something; some sound that seems to want to escape from her.
Her eyebrows furrow.
Her luscious lips part.
A single, desperate tone flows from her mouth.
The moan rises from my chest and into my throat. I try to catch it in my mouth, but my body won’t let me. It bursts from my trembling lips, betraying my true nature in a lewd revelation.
I was loving this.
The hot, throbbing member inside me drives relentlessly through my depths. I try to remain static, to keep my dignity in the face of my growing pleasure, but I can’t. I try to keep my insides from contracting in glee, but the reaction is beyond my control. I tighten my inner muscles around him, and squeeze his raping instrument with covetous greed.
But this was my fantasy, wasn’t it? To be taken hold of, to be used and treated as a play-thing? This was what I was thinking about when I touched myself, and now my dream has come to life.
You’re aroused, Alice. the carnal side of my mind tells me, You want it like this…you want it so bad.
It’s true, but fantasy and reality are often so different.
And yet, this reality mirrors your fantasy almost to the letter.
I’m being raped! I’m being forced into something I don’t want!
But you do want it, the thought retorts, you’re moaning and clenching for him.
It’s just my body reacting to stimulus!
And it feels so good…
Accept it. Enjoy it. Revel in it. Participate in it. the thought compels me, Follow the instincts of your body, and show this man how lucky he was to stumble upon you in the locker room. It’s not rape if you want it, Alice. Admit you want it.
I want it.
Now, show him how much you want it.
I don’t know how to have sex. All my experience has come from porn, which is a misleading representation at best. But, if I follow the instincts of my body, and maybe add a few things I’ve learned from my late nights in front of the computer screen, I can play it off like I know what I’m doing. He certainly does…he knows exactly what he’s doing.
All right Gym-Guy, I’ll play with you.
The side of her face I can see, the side that’s not pressed against the locker, opens its eye and looks at me. The striking blue iris peeks from the corner, and regards me with a look I didn’t expect. Desire. Her full, parted lips that were moaning just a moment ago, now exhale with enthusiastic cries of delight. Her pale, thick glutes clench against my pelvis, squeezing my cock like a vice as her vaginal muscles flex in turn. She starts to back into me, her hips pushing against mine, her subdued pelvis leaving its captive position against the grating of the lockers so that it can thrust back against me. My face warps into one of confusion, and hers creeps into one of mischievous lust. Those panting lips, those full, luscious lips, part in a naughty smile, and speak to me.
“Hi, I’m Alice.”
Yeah, I didn’t know what else to say. A litany of lines from porn came to mind: fuck me harder, right there, don’t stop…but they would’ve sounded forced coming from my mouth. So, I decided introductions were in order.
“Hi, I’m Alice.” I say, and immediately regret it.
Gym-Guy’s face twists in confusion, and he slows his thrusts for a second. He loosens the grip on my right wrist, and firmly takes my hand in his. He shakes it.
“John.” he says, in a bizarrely professional tone. Well, this is surreal as fuck, but I might as well just roll with it.
“John,” I smile, my voice wavering slightly to the feeling of him burrowing inside me, “I’ve wanted you to do this to me for a long time.”
“Really?” he smiles, his eyebrows raised, his hips starting to thrust harder.
“Yes!” I half-moan, half-cry, “I was thinking about you when I was touching myself!”
“Were you thinking about me taking you hard and rough?” he asks, his lips brushing against my ear, “Did you put yourself in the locker room so that I would fuck you?”
“No!” this time it’s entirely a scream. My body is quaking from the inside; felicitous bouts of trembling pleasure rumbling in my depths, “It was an accident!”
“So, I really am raping you.” John said, a hint of regret in his voice.
“It’s not rape,” I smile back, each syllable I utter accentuated by a sharp breath, “if I want it.”
That got him going, ho-lee-shit.
He lets go of my wrists, knowing that I won’t fight him anymore. He reaches around me and plants both of his palms against my spandex-clad breasts. He squeezes greedily, the soft flesh protruding from his knuckles, my erect nipples sticking out from between his fingers. I love it. My head tilts up, my heavy breathing fogging the metal of the locker. I reach back and spread my ass for him, letting him see what he’s doing to me.
It occurs to me, that I’m probably the worst rapist ever. Giving your real name to your victim has got to be the single dumbest thing a rapist could do. Lucky for me, Alice is a total freak, so it looks like this isn’t technically rape, which is great for both a legal and moral standpoint. Those words she said, “it’s not rape if I want it,” that was the single hottest thing a woman has ever said to me. And it got me going. My hips drive so hard, my back starts to hurt. My pelvis smashes against her cheeks, which give way to me in delectable jiggles between her spreading fingers. I’m in the throes of mind-numbing sex, when it happens. A cramp.
My right thigh seizes up on me, and my thrusting stops. My hands leave Alice’s breasts and wrap around her waist. I pick the woman up, who simply interprets the situation as an exciting change of position, and then half-stumble to the bench with her on top of me, facing away.
“Alice,” I say, lying on my back as I free a from her breast hand to massage the cramp, “you’re going to have to do some of the work now, I’m cramping up.”
Alice looks back at me with an expression that mixes confusion and apprehension. Apprehension? What does a sex-freak like Alice have to be apprehensive about?
“Ummm…” Alice says shyly, half her face covered with black hair, “I’m a virgin.”
“And I’m Vin Diesel.”
“No, John,” she says, biting her lower lip, “this is the first time I’ve had sex.”
“You’re shitting me.” I say, unbelieving. I just raped a virgin. No you didn’t, she said she wanted it! the irrational part of my brain blurts in my mind.
“Nope,” Alice laughs nervously, “this is my first time, and I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“Take off your clothes, and face me.” I say. This must be a fantasy of hers she’s acting out; there’s no way she’s a virgin.
Alice pulls off her leggings and panties leg by leg, and I begin to see the awkward way she moves. She’s beautiful, gorgeous in fact, but she lacks the grace of someone with experience. She shifts uncomfortably and eventually just kicks off the snagging garment about her ankles, seaming to forget to take her shoes off first. My cock is still inside her, and every little move she makes, prompts her to react to the pleasure in a cute, endearing way. She leaves her top on, and I’m fine with that for now. It will come off when she’s ready. Maybe she really is a virgin.
“Now, straddle me.” I instruct.
Alice stretches her leg over my head and shifts her body to me. I catch a glimpse of her pussy widening as she rears her leg over me, and then straddles me completely. She looks down at me like a student eagerly awaiting the instructions of her teacher. Her mouth is smiling, and her breathing has slowed, but it still bears the short cadence of someone experiencing pleasure. I can see micro-spasms twitching up her abdomen as her body savors the feeling of my length statically throbbing inside her.
“Now what do I do?” she laughs, and cutely brushes the hair covering her left eye behind her ear. Her freckled face is shining and pretty, her pale cheeks now flushed. Her expression is expectant and eager, and I can’t help but laugh.
“What?” she smiles nervously.
“Nothing,” I chuckle, “now you just…ride me.”
“Like this?” Alice asks as she begins to grind her hips back and forth.
“That’s it.” I groan, “Just follow my lead.”
My hands grip her grinding hips and guide her through a slow, deep motion. She rests her hands together on my abdomen and stares her blue eyes into my own. Her lips are smiling, and they part to yield slight, breathy gasps as she moves. She’s tentative at first; her movements mechanical and timid. She shifts back and forth with small, shy motions. My hands guide her to move with longer strokes, and she eventually catches on. She starts to put her abs and back into it. Her torso flexes beneath the yellow spandex of her shirt with each advance, and then her back arches slightly and her ass protrudes from her spine with each retreat. She looks at me the whole time, her face dawning with realization as her instincts begin to guide her. Her smile broadens, and girlish excitement flows into her blue eyes.
“This is so much fun!” she giggles.
It is so much fun. Watching John react to my movements, to the pleasure I could provide him, excites me. His pleasure make my pleasure feel better. His throbbing cock stands rigidly in my soft pussy, and as I grind along his body, it stirs my insides delightfully. When I shift backward, he presses against my vaginal ceiling, hitting that spot that gives me so much joy. When I push forward, he bulges against my rear membrane, and sends gleeful pings into my taint.
I start to gain my confidence. I move back and forth, and add a circular gyration to the pattern. John’s head falls backward against the bench, and he lets out a groan of approval. I giggle lustfully, and continue my circular dance. My abdomen flexes in waves, my diaphragm heaves in strained bouts of pleasure, my hips rotate in a perverse belly dance. I don’t need John’s training wheels anymore, and I take his hands off my hips, and guide them to my breasts. He pulls my spandex shirt over my chest, exposing my braless, pale tits. His eyes widen when he sees the perfection strewn across my chest, and I giggle again, and place my hands over his, beckoning him to squeeze me. His fingers sink into the soft flesh of my bust, and each thumb and forefinger pinches gently about an erect nipple. I moan my approval and flex my vaginal muscles around him, lowering my gaze and staring lustfully at him from the tops of my eyes. God, it feels so good. But there’s something missing…something that I really want…
“John,” I whisper to him, my voice breaking as a moan interrupts me, “put your fingers in my ass.”
John gives me a knowing, wry smile, and moves his right hand from my breast. He slides the hand along my neck, and then places three fingers against my lips. I take hold of his wrist, and one by one, suck his fingers. My tongue works along with my lips, lathering his digits with my natural lubricant. I kiss the last finger as it exists my mouth, and then smile at him as I guide the whole hand behind me. It slides through my puffing ass cheeks, and then rests its finger tips against my twitching rim. He pushes one finger in, and I moan. He pushes another in, and grind ferociously forward in thanks. He puts the last one in, and then curls all three fingers, gripping me from the inside. My head flings upward to the ceiling, and I let out a hoarse scream. His finger push against his cock from the other side of me, sending a delicious torrent of spasms rocketing into my depths.
“Oh, fuck!” I cry, and the passionate motions of my hips change. I’m done making love; I want to fuck.
Something has come over Alice. The moment I pushed my fingers in her ass, her entire demeanor changed. Her head rears back, the tendons in her neck standing at attention as an animalistic scream of delight breaks from her lips. Her back arches, and her pussy grips me like never before. She stays that way for a moment, stuck in a paralysis of pleasure. And then she looks at me, and the look she’s giving me is of ravenous lust. Her thighs lock together on my hips, and she begins riding me with a veracity I’d never felt before. Her breasts heave as her hips shift in a violent cadence; her abdomen indenting with her folding skin and then stretching to reveal the straining muscles beneath them. A covetous, almost manic laugh slips from her lips between her moans, and then she says something that almost makes me blow.
“John,” she moans, her eyebrows furrowing as my knuckles curl inside her, “I want you to put it in my ass.”
The words slip from my mouth without a second thought. I’m done with rationality; I’m going to say whatever twisted thought enters my mind.
John’s fingers curl inside me, as though he’s gripping me from my anus. My back arches and I let out a wavering moan of approval.
“Please,” I whisper, staring down with a pleading expression, “please fuck my ass.”
“We don’t have any lube,” John replies, “Alice, it’s going to hurt-”
“We have lube,” I smirk, licking my lips, “and I want it to hurt.”
I accentuate my last phrase with a tightening of my vaginal muscles, prompting John to moan beneath me. The power dynamic has changed. John was the rapist and the seducer before, but now I’m the one in control. And I want it in my ass. I dismount from John leg-over-leg and then turn around, before straddling his abdomen. He gets a look at my assets, and I get a good look at his. Holy shit, I can’t believe that thing was inside me. It had to be at least seven inches long, but the girth! I stare at it worshipfully, and then lick my lips, and shift my body backward. This is something I know how to do. Years of practice with various vegetables and fruits have prepared me for this moment, and I won’t fuck it up. In the meantime, John can prep my ass.
I stick out my tongue and lick his entire length from base to tip. It sways rigidly in the air, and pulses with pleasure. I giggle at the responsiveness of his body, and then give it another lick, this time slower. John groans behind me, and then parts my ass cheeks with his fingers. I feel his tongue circling the spokes of my anus, and a shutter runs through me. I plant my lips at the tip of his cock, and have my first ever taste of precum. Normally, it would probably disgust me, but in my mental state, it was delicious. My mouth opens, my lips wrap around him, and I slowly descend his length. At the same time, John’s playful tongue zeroes in on the hole he’s been teasing, and pushes through.
I didn’t need to give Alice any instruction on how to blow me; she was a natural. Her full, wet lips seal about my girth, and then slowly work their way down. Her tongue curls about me as she goes, and lathers my cock with a sheen of warm spit. Her soft mouth takes me in easily, and then she hits her throat. I would’ve been happy with her stopping there, but apparently, she wasn’t. Pained gags slip from her sealed lips, and she takes me all the way in, inch by inch. Her soft, warm throat constricts about me, gripping me in a lecherous embrace. Every gag that runs through her only tightens the embrace, and I have to hold back from blowing my load.
While this is happening, I’ve been tasting her insides with greedy hunger. My tongue curls inside her, parting the delectable, pink inner skin of her anus, and burrowing deeper. Twitches and spasms run down her taint, and a shiver runs up her spine. She moans around me, and I keep pushing forward, until my lips are pressed against the pink lining of her rim. I seal them, and begin to suck. Her ass pushes into my face, enveloping my cheeks with her glutes. Warm, supple flesh blinds me and surrounds me, and I give her more of what she wants. My lips rotate and my tongue shifts teasingly up and down inside her. Another muffled moan parts from her sucking lips, and she rotates them in turn. We bring each other to the brink of orgasm over and over again, but always lay off at the precipice, feeding the hunger that grows within us. When my cock is covered in a sheen of her spit, and her ass his shining from my own, we move our mouths away, and look at each other.
“Fuck my ass,” Alice whispers, “fuck it now.”
And I comply.
John pushes me forward, and I slide the rest of the way off him. I straddle the bench, place my palms flat against it, and perk my ass up for him, while I look back over my shoulder expectantly. He comes up to me, grips my glutes and spreads me wide. An excited laugh flows from me, and my shoulders shrug forward in anticipation. I feel his tip press against my readied sphincter, and then push in.
God, it feels good. My rim constricts around him, and his girth defiantly forces it stretched. My rectum is pried open as he drives his full length deep into me. Every inch he pushes, my back arches just a little more. By the time his pelvis is pressing against my spread glutes, I’m looking at him upside-down, my mouth quivering agape, my eyes wide and writhing in their sockets. He pulls out slowly, and I feel myself come out just a bit with him. My pelvic floor stretches from my body, sending convulsions ripping into my taint, and deep into my depths. I cry out, and push my ass backward as he thrusts forward. We meet in the middle, and both scream a mutual tone of satisfaction. We fuck like this, him driving forward, me grinding back. My pussy is leaking clear fluid all over the bench; strings of it stretching from my dilated labia. The convulsion in my ass don’t let up for a second, but only increase. I’m screaming now, a constant stream of euphoric notes that only waver with each forceful drive.
“Choke me!” I screech, and he complies.
His hands wrap around my throat and constrict. I revel in the feeling of his domination, and arch my back into a painful curve. My hands slide between my legs and desperately push their fingers into my dripping cunt. I press my invading digits against my vaginal floor, and screech a choked tone as I feel him moving on the other side. The thin membrane that separates my two channels is stimulated by both my fingers and his cock, and it sends rapturous spasms into my pelvis. I can feel the sensations combining inside me, and building, expanding through the reaches of my depths. My screams are now breathy and desperate, and rise with each, choking exhale. I stare at John’s face from the tops of my eyes, and he looks back into mine.
Alice’s pelvic floor pops from her body every time I pull out, and then sinks deep into her crack every time I push in. The tendons on her neck stand at attention as hoarse screams erupt from her mouth. My groans, grunts and yells accompany her. I can tell she’s close, I can tell by the way her insides seem to be squirming around me. I can tell by the manic look in her eyes, and the painful curve of her back. I drive into her harder and harder, punishing her with each thrust, forcing her body to feel better and better the more I abuse her. Her body is a blur of rippling, white skin and chaotically waving hair. Her breasts smack against her chest, and her ass claps in a fervent applause. My knuckles whiten around her neck, and her face reddens above them. Her mouth is open, a dribble of spit falling from the corners. Her eyes are wide, and tears of pleasure film them.
My cock is throbbing, my balls are aching, and the pressure-fueled pleasure is building in my loins. I pump my last few thrusts into her, smashing my pelvis against the fat of her ass. It ripples with waves of jiggling, pale flesh. Her fingers press against my cock from the other side of her anus, and I lose it. I bellow my cathartic ecstasy to the ceiling, and empty myself inside her.
Grinding, painful bouts of stinging pleasure rip through my colon. They rise inside me, building the aching pressure that sends my mind in a manic rage of lust. My eyes tremble in their sockets, and I feel the expanding balloon inside me build even further. His cock pushes into me with a note of a finality, and he blows inside me right as I reach the peak. His hands leave my throat just in time for me to screech out my ecstasy. The pressure rises, and rises. I’m a writhing mess of convulsions. It builds higher and higher. I’m losing my fucking mind. Hotter and hotter, stronger than ever. Aching felicity. Burning euphoria. It comes crashing down on me in a wave, and I squirt for the first time in my life. I can’t even scream. I can’t even breathe. All I can do, is exist in the moment…and then it bursts. My body heaves in a back-wrenching arch, and I finally find my voice. I scream out a manic tone of delight, and permeations of euphoria wash through me.
My mind comes back to me, and is flooded with a tidal surge of endorphins. I pant the last ragged breaths of my climax, and then fall backward into John’s arms. We breathe heavily for a moment, our bodies slick with the sweat of our sex. He’s warm and comfortable around him, and I could stay like this for a while, but I need to show my thanks. I look up into his eyes and give him a devilish smirk, before leaving his embrace. I pull his hard cock out of my ass, lick my lips, and take the whole thing in my mouth. He groans and tilts his head to the ceiling, and I clean my ass off him. I taste delicious. When I’m done cleaning him, I climb on top of his body and lay my head on his chest. I savor his calming heartbeat against my ear, and the warmth of his body on my own.
“So,” John says, finally breaking the silence, “is this just a one-time thing, or are we going out?”
“You raped me.” I smirk up at him.
“You loved it.” He smirks back.
“I don’t think you want to get in a relationship with me, John.” I sigh, “I have a lot of baggage.”
“How much baggage could you have?” John laughs, “No ex-boyfriends, not even a hook-up.”
“I’m a bipolar cunt with serious anxiety issues.” I say.
“Well, no shit,” John chuckles, “and I’m a rapist with zero charisma and crippling depression. So, do you want to go out with me?”