tagNonConsent/ReluctanceI Every Give Break-Ins

I Every Give Break-Ins

bymary_is_boy_crazy©

There was a tiny problem with taking showers where I lived then. No, it wasn't that other people used up my soap and shampoo, because I wisely kept them in my room. And wasn't that the lock was broken and sometimes people would walk in on me, because that was kind of exciting (they were mostly boys). And it wasn't that this shower sometimes went freezing cold with no warning, although that was very annoying and could be a real o-killer. No, it was that sometimes the water suddenly came out at a scalding temperature and you cooked like a lobster. I'm serious. Painful red welts that lasted for days. But nobody was seriously hurt, so I tried to look at it as a mean painplay tease.

I had to do that because for me, masturbating in the shower is something close to a religious observance. I've always felt very sensual bathing. For a long time now, I'd had "silent but deadly" cumms from playing with myself, and I'd gotten away with bringing my cookie off in I guess you would say some crazy places, as well as very often. That included almost every shower I took in that building. I trembled hard, likely made some funny faces too, but standing outside waiting for your turn you'd never know.

So on the morning when next we like lay our scene and shit, I was in the shower with my eyes closed and the warm water streaming down me, yanking a nipple with my left hand and slapfucking myself with my right. Maybe slapfucking is just a me thing. That's when I have my middle finger pumping inside me, but the rest of my hand cupping my pussy. I move my whole hand in and out and it's like a pussy slap as well as a deep finger. A real challenge to do quietly, both for the slapping and the not crying out.

Yeah, I had a few toys, the same ones every girl's got under a pile of lame sweaters. The same old injection-molded fake dick, the same old noisy "back massager" on clearance from Target, the same old vibrating bullet on a cord with a control stick so you can spend a day with it taped to your clit and realize it's not really as hot as perverts make it sound, and of course the same slimmish, featureless vibrator that's only vaguely dick-shaped. But for the Masters, I kinda prefer the personal touch when I'm touching my personal.

Joe thought we were a couple. I helped him think that being a couple meant we had to do it constantly, and never with protection. I used phrases like "Don't you trust me?" and "Don't you love me?" to wrap him around my finger. I think he was failing all his classes at that point, because I didn't give two shits about his school schedule.

But sometimes I wanted to fly solo. And morning showers were some of those times. My middle was surrogate dicking me from fingertip to palm on every stroke, and I was thinking about that en_extase story where this girl is home from college and she's fucking her older sister's boyfriend in the shower while that sister is brushing her teeth like three feet away and scolding him for not getting along with her family. Our heroine is bent over to the wall, and she looks back at her sister's boyfriend while he's got his whole cock sleeved in her, and she makes a pouty face at him like "aw, isn't it so sad that you're not being nicer to me?" And even though they're not moving and trying not to make any noise, he goes off into her right there.

That's like my favorite shower fantasy. I was imagining myself as that little sister, holding still and being quiet while my sister's older boyfriend guiltily throb-throb-throbbed his globby payload into me. I was imagining the kind of face he'd make, and getting really close, when someone rattled the door.

I slipped my finger out of myself and pulled back the frosted glass door. It was David, the guy next door. I didn't know him very well, only that he had a huge adam's apple and was on the school team for some girly sport like swimming or aerobics or tennis. He was wearing nothing but a pair of tented blue briefs, and I realized that although the glass was frosted, enough of me had been pressed against the glass to give him a show. Of course, he was a show too. Obviously rolled straight out of bed, messy hair, not at all hulked out but tight and toned, with nice clean abs.

I turned off the water so we could talk. "Hi David," I said, catching my breath, "what's up?" I had a pretty good idea what was up in those briefs.

"I've got places to be in 20 minutes," he said. And then he got a little impolite. "Isn't all that sex with Joe enough?"

No, it wasn't. Joe wanted it, and I guess I wanted it, but it was boring, even though I made a point of experimenting with new positions every time. "We're not having sex," I said, "Joe and I are just roommates." Behind the glass door, I slipped my hand back to my clam and began to move my fingertips together in a clit-mashing circle.

"Come on," said David, "I can hear it. 'Oh Mary, oh Joe, oh Mary, oh Joe.' All the time."

I guess together, we're not that quiet. "Uh... sorry."

"Some crazy dirty talk too. Are you really trying to get pregnant?"

"No."

"I didn't think so." He stared through the door and I realized too late that there was enough detail through it for him to see where my arm was. "Are you still buffing it?"

I looked him in the eye and panted a little. "Yeah. You shouldn't have interrupted me."

"Well, like I said, I got things I need to do, so could you finish yourself off someplace else?"

"You're gonna be late anyway," I said, speeding up, "'cause of the time it'll take you to whack it down the drain."

"I've got a little more discipline than you."

"Really?" I said, "Even after seeing this?" And I slid the door all the way open. I was still going at it.

He swallowed hard and stared at my boobs. My boobs are not gigantic, but what I do have going for me is what Janey calls nip-henge. My nipples are very expressive, and when I'm hot for it, you can see thick, rough circles of hard points in the halos. In a way, they stare back.

"Tell you what, David," I said. "I'm a nice neighbor. I can blow you so you won't be late."

"I want to fuck," he said urgently, moving his attention from my nips to my bulging, flushed twat lips, which puckered as I mauled them, giving him glimpses of the pink. He slipped his dick out of the fly in his briefs. It was all the way barred up.

"I don't fuck. I'm a virgin."

"You're a lying slut!" he hissed, and pushed me against the back of the shower stall as he stepped in.

This was among the hottest things that had ever happened to me. His precummy joy fist was resting skin-to-skin on the center of my upper body, just under my tits. I think I could have taken his pulse if I'd been counting the throbs. It is awesome that cocks throb, one of my favorite things about them. I felt my wet shoulderblades and ass sliding smoothly on the wall tiles as I stared at him, lips parted, willing him to rape me.

Instead he moved to one side as if to let me out, looked down at his own needy bone, and started jacking it with a white-knuckled fist.

"Stop it!" I whispered sharply. "I said I'd blow you."

His hand stopped and he looked up at me.

"I'll suck you off if you promise me I'm a virgin. And not a liar or a slut."

"Okay," he said, eyes wandering all over me. "Do it."

"First you say it," I said, twisting my shoulders. Maybe he could still lose control.

But he didn't. "You're not a slut, Mary. I believe you. You'd never tell a lie. If you say you're a virgin, you're a virgin. The guy... the guy who pops you is going to be so lucky." His eyes were watering. "Now suck me!" he begged.

I had him all the way in my throat before my knees actually touched the floor of the stall. He made a sound that was more of a yodel than anything else. I dragged my lips up to the mid-shaft and mouth-fucked him in short strokes back and forth.

To stop him grabbing my head, I reached up and held his hands, feeling his sweaty palms quiver. One of my hands was just wet on his, but the other was slick with my cunt leakings.

The point of my move was not the shaft, of course, which isn't very sensitive (and I wanted to finish him fast). I was getting his head to go in and out of my throat. He was extremely happy about it, and after about fifteen quick strokes, he was giving my tonsils a hot bath to go with the massage. I could tell he was trying not to make too much noise, but his orgasmic sigh must have involved the full capacity of his lungs.

I kept going as he came down. As he began to soften, I throated him one last time, gave a hard little suck, and disengaged. I stood up, snapped the waistband of his briefs with my thumb, and said, "You should take these off before you have your shower!"

As I stepped out, I could hear him struggling out of them. I borrowed a bit of mouthwash from somebody who kept their bottle of it in the bathroom, rinsed real well, spat. I say borrowed. Obvs they never got it back.

On my way out the bathroom, I got the impression through the shower door that David's hard-on hadn't gone down much. Too bad.

I took myself and my obviously hungry pussy back to the room, damp and naked. As I opened the door, Joe was zipping up his backpack, clearly ready to leave.

"Joe, I need it," I ordered sternly, bracing one foot straight over my head on the closet door, pointing my snatch at him. I could feel my swollen lips pulled slightly open, and I knew he could see just a glistening sliver of paradise.

"But we just did it ten minutes ago!" he protested.

"No we didn't." I pumped my hips a bit. And belatedly closed the hall door.

"Yes we did! In your bed!"

"Oh, that time. That was twenty minutes ago." It was fifteen.

"I can't go again, Mary."

"Yes you can."

"I can't get hard."

"Really? Let me see."

Sheepishly, Joe slipped his pants off.

"See?" I said. "You're half hard already."

"It's sore."

"Come over here. Rub it where it goes."

Joe kicked his pants off his ankles and kneaded the tip of his chub back and forth over my slit. Sure enough, it was getting harder.

"Put it in me, lover."

"I, we don't have time..." But he was sweating, and I could tell he was weakening.

"Dude, come on. Are you my boyfriend or not?"

"I'm yours forever." It was a struggle not to roll my eyes, and I don't think I won that struggle entirely, but fortunately his attention was elsewhere.

"And I'm your girlfriend, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, Mary. You're my beautiful girlfriend." He thrust it into me at last. "Oh, oh... you're so wet. You're so wet for me Mary!"

"I was thinking of you in the shower."

He got into it, holding my raised leg and fucking me hard and fast and deep. I was starting to feel the snakes of ecstasy when we were startled by a boyish shriek nearby. Joe lost his grip, I lost my balance, and I hit my head on the wall on my way down.

Tangled on the floor, Joe standing over me, I giggled. "I think somebody just got scalded," I said, but that wasn't what I thought at all. If David had managed to push himself over again, for a guy it would have been too soon, and maybe even quite painful. He'd remember me all right.

"Are you okay?" said Joe nervously, as if a girl falling down while he railed her might make him Jack the Ripper.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said impatiently, spread-eagling for him, even two-fingering my glory apart in case the rest wasn't enough. "I didn't hit my head that hard. Get down here and give me what I need."

He positioned himself above me and set his knob over my hole. As he pushed himself back in, too slowly and too carefully, I put one hand on nipple duty and the other circle-rubbing my clit area. He picked the pace back up and my head was rolling on the carpet. I could feel spots of his drool on my face and collarbone but I don't think he noticed.

I think it was the drool that did it for me. It was a sign that he'd completely lost control. I made him do that. My power over him was sexual and absolute. I squeezed my eyes shut, hips rising off the carpet, fuck muscles milking his rod frantically, and saw a thrashing riot of fine grains of every color, pins and needles of the eyes. As my greedy, victorious pussy blotted out the world, and satisfaction deprived me of every other sense, the visual noise became slow, spinning geometric patterns.

When at last I came down, Joe was still fucking away at me. I gave him a little push away and he very reluctantly pulled out.

"What time is it?" I asked. "I think I gotta go."

"But I haven't finished yet," said Joe.

"We're both late," I pointed out, though really only he was.

"Aren't you my girlfriend?"

I was planning to leave him hanging, but the ongoing deception about our being a real couple together, combined with a good look at his gleaming boner, convinced me to have mercy. I planted my lips on the head, stabbed my tongue at the tip, and then pushed down. I was never all that crazy about my own quim juice before, but I had come to associate the taste with fucking like rabbits, which I was realizing gave it a certain appeal.

"I want to do it inside you," he said quickly, and I could tell he was saying it so fast because he was in immediate danger of losing it.

"This is inside me, baby," I said, slurping his head into my mouth for emphasis, popping it back out.

"I mean in your pussy," he groaned.

"This is my pussy," I said sweetly. "This is my face pussy." I slipped my head forward, forcing him down my throat, and stroked his inner thighs rapidly up and down with just the tips of my fingers.

It shattered him. "Mary, I love you," he howled, even as he spurted chowder down the inside of my neck, "Mary, I'm so in love with you."

I pulled off before he was all the way done, jacking him with my lefty. His last glob jumped out and draped itself over my right breast. I scooped it up with my finger and licked it all away.

"We'd better go," I said.

"Yeah."

He got his pants back on and headed out. "Love you," I called after him, but I think he didn't notice. I could hear him running down the steps as I strapped on a bra. I threw a tank top over it, pulled on some daisy dukes, went with the tall grey Uggs, and rolled out at a fast walk. I'd walked halfway to class before I realized it was still pretty cold for these clothes, and also that I'd forgotten panties.

I could live with both. I was sure I had fucked-against-a-wall hair too. I kept going.

After class, it was late morning and much more comfortable outside. I was fired up from the looks the boys in the lecture hall had been giving me. I was wishing I'd gone braless too.

Walking through the part of the student neighborhood with nice houses where people had to split the rent eight ways to afford it, I heard something interesting carried on the breeze: the clap-clap-clap of doggy-style nuts on ass. Okay, that alone might not have been enough to identify it, but the quavering shrieks of joy sealed it. Someone was a screamer.

I might not have been able to isolate it if I hadn't spotted the open window. It was a two-pane over-and-under with the lower half open. I crept over. It was too high to peek in directly, because the house had a raised foundation, but I could reach the outside sill just barely enough to boost myself up on my forearms.

What I saw was utterly awesome. A gangly but kinda handsome boy with a buzz cut was slamming a huge-titted bottle blonde. They were in a bedroom, on the double bed, with messed-up cream silk sheets all around them. She was wearing nothing but white stockings and black pumps, mouth open, eyes closed. As I watched, the boy raised one hand and right-left spanked her ass without breaking pace. Was he... oh shit, he was chewing gum. He was utterly destroying her and somehow he wasn't really into it.

Something about the situation really got to me. I needed a hand free. I managed to plant a boot on a fence post and slip my right arm off the windowsill. I got the top button on my dukes and unzipped the fly, then dug in with my trusty index. I set up a rocking motion, with my index finger probing my sex hole and my thumb and my thumb pleasing the little man in the boat.

I had to rebalance. I shifted my other foot to the fence post. Suddenly I felt my dukes slipping down. I tried to move my foot back, but it was too late. I was naked from waist to ankles, or belly button to ankles really, and I could only fix it by either not watching or not masturbating, both unacceptable options.

Eager to finish and deal with this, I jilled off fast enough to make my breasts shake, even in a bra and a tight tank. The blonde's shrieks became a sort of prayer to her gum-chewing god: "Oh please I'm close, oh please I'm close, don't stop, Keith, don't stop, don't stop, I'm so close to cumming, I can feel it, I'm gonna come, I'm close to cumming, please don't stop..."

I redoubled my efforts... and lost my footing. One boot slipped off the fence post. I had only one arm on the windowsill, and the sudden jolt downward cost me that. That left me with one boot on a fence post way off my center of gravity. I tried to brace against the wall with my free arm, and with a little more presence of mind I might even have been able to stop touching my pie, but as it was I tumbled onto their side lawn with a scrape on my shin from the fence.

By a heroic act of will I pulled my finger out of my crotch pocket and hiked my dukes back to my waist. I walked away as much like nothing had happened as possible.

When I got back home I washed out the scrape, put two band-aids on it over the worst parts, and checked my email. Amazon is really terrible about sending me spam. After a few minutes of reading blogs and twitter feeds, I realized my pussy still needed something stabbed in it. I got out my fake plastic cock and throated it, hand to face, while I pulled up Joe's porn directory and kicked off my soggy, cunt-smelling shorts.

I picked a bondage video. A cute Asian girl was bound onto a frame, legs forced spread, strings running from clips on her fuck lips to her toes, so that she was holding herself open on a smaller scale too. A burly, angry man, florid and balding, was running a mysterious black probe up and down on her third rail. "Don't come!" he told her.

She shook and spasmed, and her junk was so wet it looked like she'd sat in a puddle of vegetable oil. I pushed my dildo into where it was supposed to go, just the tip at first, pretending to myself that I was pleading with it not to go any further. Once I got the whole head in, I fucked it in and out a bit as if the dildo had promised me it would fuck my first couple inches, but no deeper.

In the video, the man asked the girl if she'd come.

"No," she sobbed.

"Good," he barked. Fuck, dildo, fuck. Other hand on the top of my slit, tickling my hood. "Now this is medium."

He'd done something with the probe, I guess. It didn't look any different, but she was reacting even harder.

"Don't come!" he reminded her. "Don't you dare!"

I didn't think she could hold out. It was minutes before he stopped.

"Did you come?" he demanded.

"No," she sobbed again. She was broken.

"All right," he said, seeming mollified, "one last one. This is high."

As soon as the tool touched her, she gurgled, "I'm coming!" and jolted upwards, arched to the limit of the bonds.

Oh, he's going to punish her, I thought eagerly. He's going to punish the fuck out of that little whore. Take it, you little whore. I rammed my dildo all the way into my body except for its fake plastic balls, and long-stroked it in and out. There was noise. I was staying quiet, but the dildo was making sharp little slimy sounds in my orchid. I bit my lip.

"Did you come?" asked the man unpleasantly.

"Yes," she said.

"I told you not to," he said, annoyed. There was a pause, then he added, "Why did you?"

I doubled speed, feeling the feeling that this was it. Those were the only words I'd be able to think as I had my own cumm. Skipped the video back a bit to watch it again.

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