tagNonConsent/ReluctanceRyan, Paul, and Mary Ch. 02

Ryan, Paul, and Mary Ch. 02

bysongnstory©

My friend and fellow college student, Mary, had some issues. She loved sex. And her body was very responsive. But she claimed she couldn't have sex with someone without immediately falling in love, and she wasn't ready for that emotion. So, my bright idea was to blindfold her, take on a different persona, and give her what she needed and what I wanted. How could she fall in love with a fictional person?

Have you ever realized you screwed up, but all you could do was sit and wait for the consequences to catch up to you? That was me all weekend. I expected a cop on my doorstep to arrest me for rape. I thought some of Mary's friends would come to kick the crap out of me. Perhaps worst of all was not knowing what was going on with Mary right then. Was she sobbing into her pillow? Getting drunk? Getting ready to do something stupid and permanent? Not an hour went by that I didn't pick up the phone to call; but each time, I put the receiver down. As hard as it was not knowing, actually facing her was unbearable. So two days dragged by.

Can somebody feel overjoyed and terrified in equal measure? That's how I felt when I saw her in class on Monday. My seat was to the side and three seats back from hers. I watched her like a hawk for the next hour, looking for some sign. But she never looked back. She never spoke. She barely took notes. And when class ended, she quickly packed up and walked out without looking my way. Well, I knew the risk to our friendship, though it grieved me deeply. I just hoped I hadn't scarred her.

Days went by. The classes we had together were much the same. She didn't hang in the lounge anymore, nor in the student center, nor in the quad that was filled with girls soaking up the warmth of late spring. With her continued absence my heart grew heavier. I told myself it wasn't worth it; I shouldn't have tried that stunt; should have just leave things as they were, with her wistful and lonely but still my friend. But sometimes I just can't leave well enough alone.

Monday came around again, and I was early to class. Just as everyone was settling in, Mary walked in. She locked eyes with me, for a fraction of a second, before dropping her gaze and heading to her seat. She stayed eyes-front for the rest of class, but I replayed the brief look in my head all hour. She didn't look angry or accusing, but whatever message those eyes held was beyond me.

After class, she packed as quickly as before. Then, Mary half-turned. Her eyes flicked up at me.

"Hey," she said softly, and with tight little wave, she merged into the crowd filing through the door.

Well, that was interesting. All the fear and grief I felt diminished considerably. So, things may be strained, but she didn't seem to hate me after all.

* * * * *

Although I saw her a couple of times on campus, we weren't face-to-face until the class met again on Wednesday. We both arrived early, and bantered a bit as our classmates straggled in: how hard the professors were working us, grad student gossip, which of our acquaintances made fools of themselves on Friday night – all safe subjects. Then the professor went to the lectern and we settled in. I actually took notes this time. When everyone made for the door an hour later, I took my time loading my pack. So did Mary. I stepped up beside her.

"So, got any lunch plans?"

She kept her eyes on the folders she was pretending to shuffle through. "I'm going to go through some notes for a quiz tomorrow." Her hands stilled, but she still didn't raise her eyes. "And... then I'm walking down to the botany lab to practice keying out flowers for the exam." She paused, and... was that color coming to her cheek? "I'll be heading down around one o'clock." Mary zipped her pack shut. "See ya." And she nearly bolted out the door.

Remember all the fear and grief? Because at that moment, I sure didn't. The lizard brain in my head read into that short conversation only what it wanted to hear: that Mary was saying she wanted Paul, and where he could find her.

* * * * *

One would think that a lab containing hundreds of plant specimens – pressed, dried, and mounted on glass plates – would be in the vicinity of the botany department. But no, it was in a refurbished storage building at the bottom of a hill, waiting for a building grant that never materialized. The shortest route from our corner of campus involved cutting through some hedges and along a descending wooded path. Privet bushes ran rampant here, offering many hiding places. It was a dangerous locale, if you thought about it. Easy for a dangerous man to lie in wait. And at the appointed hour, I was doing just that.

She was well along the path and about to start her descent when I stepped out behind her.

"Don't move," I commanded in Paul's low voice. She cried out and stumbled, then caught herself and froze. Two steps and I came within reach. She began to tremble as I tied the blindfold in place.

"Now, go right." I grasped the loop at the top of her pack and guided her deeper into the brush. We halted on a moss-covered open patch, about seven feet wide. We were less than forty feet from the trail – if Mary cried out when someone happened to use the trail, that would be that.

I slid the pack from her shoulders and leaned it against a sweetgum. Silently, I stepped around her, watching as she stood, uncertain, trembling. I heard nothing but the rumble of traffic filtered through the shrubs, and the blood rising in my ears.

"Mary. You remember me, don't you." It wasn't a question.

A pause. "Yes."

"What's my name?"

A far longer pause. "P-Paul."

"And you know why I'm here?"

"Yes."

"Why am I here?"

She didn't speak, but a new tremor ran across her body.

"I'm going to take you. I have needs, and I will use your body to satisfy them. If you're good, I'll give you what you need too."

Her mouth opened but no sound came out.

"So here's what you must do. You will take off your clothes and hand them to me, until you are naked before me." Though she couldn't see me, she turned her head away from my voice. I watched her reaction, then added, "Oh, and just so we're clear, you must never look at me. That blindfold is your protection. If I ever catch you peeking...I will make you hurt. And you will not get what you need. Just so we're clear. Now, start with your shirt."

Slowly, she reached down and grasped the hem of her shirt, lifting it over her head and holding it out in the direction of my voice. I checked that the bandanna was secure.

"Very good. Now, your bra." With that dexterity I always found fascinating, she reached behind her back and in a moment the straps came loose. She held the cups in place for a moment, then handed the garment to me.

"And now, your shoes." She kicked off her sandals. Without taking my eyes off her, I bent down and collected them.

"And now, the rest." Slowly, she brought her hands to her waist. Her delicate hands unfastened the button and lowered the zipper. She bent slightly, and slowly, so slowly, pants and panties slid down over the curve of her hips, the curve of her butt, down her thighs. They settled on the ground, and she stepped out of them before picking them up and handing them to me. Then she stood there, head slightly down, and let my eyes roam over her very appealing body. Her breasts (which were slightly more than a handful), her waist, her hips – all well proportioned, and thoroughly arousing. My eyes stopped at the cleft of her legs. The thick dark thatch was neater than it was at our last encounter. Mary had trimmed her bush! She wanted to look pleasing for Paul, it seemed. Coming back to myself, I quickly but quietly shed my own shorts, shirt and slip-ons.

"You have a very attractive body, Mary, did you realize? Now, put your hands behind your head." She did so. I stepped to her, the head of my stiff cock nearly touching her belly. Then I reached out my hands until they very, very lightly touched the sides of her breasts. Mary sucked in her breath. Sliding under them, I lifted, feeling their weight, watching the nipples contract. She hissed as I flicked my thumbs across the nubs. I leaded forward until my mouth was an inch from one nipple, and blew on it. She began to pant, but I held her breasts steady and continued to tease her. When she tried to push her nipple forward into my mouth, I pounced. She groaned loudly and swayed as her knees nearly gave way.

"Quiet! If someone hears, I'll have to go away, and leave you like this," I warned after I finished suckling. "Or, I may just take you anyway, and let them watch. Would you like that? Having them see a stranger rutting on you while you wail like a cat in heat?"

She shuddered but kept her next moan firmly behind her clamped teeth.

"Good girl. You may just get a reward for that." I ran my hands slowly along her arms, then down her sides; I barely brushed her breasts. Around her hips and thighs, teasingly stroking her pubic mound with one hand and gripping a buttcheek with the other. I stepped behind her and pulled her against me. My throbbing cock pressed between her cheeks and into the small of her back. From there my hands roamed across her front, now cupping her breasts, now reaching between her legs. If I hadn't supported her, she would have fallen.

"Please," she whimpered, "I need to lay down."

If this were any other love encounter, I would have done whatever she asked. But that wasn't how this game was to be played. Paul had to grant her release, but not on her terms.

"No. Don't forget who I am. I'm not your friend. I'm not a lover. I am the man who is going to fuck you. I'm using your body, and you want to be used. You don't get any other consideration. Do you understand?" She nodded weakly.

The harshness of this persona surprised me. I had never done this sort of roleplaying before. It was becoming rather easy.

She shook and writhed as my fingers played between her legs. Knowing she would soon be on the ground whether I let her or not, I said, "Down on your knees and elbows. Cover your mouth."

I let go and she sank to her knees on the moss. Then she bowed, and fell into the proper position.

"Arch your back. Offer your pussy to me". She did so. She was wet and open, and the scent of her lust washed through my brain.

I placed the head of my cock against the lips, and then slowly eased in. I pulled out and pushed all the way in. I watched her pussy grip at me as I pulled out, as if it were reluctant to let me go. She moaned into her hands.

"I hear someone on the trail," I breathed as I rocked her body with each thrust. "Should I call them over?" Mary, still covering her whimpering mouth, shook her head. I increased the speed and force of my movements, hips slapping against her flesh. "Maybe they can hear this. Maybe they'll want to do you too." That sent her over the edge. Her body spasmed, and a low, muffled cry slipped through her fingers. I continued to pound into her until one hand flew back and flailed against my arm. I held still, listening to her suck down great gulps of air. After her breath returned to not-quite normal, I resumed my efforts, ignoring her moan of protest. Soon I felt the familiar tensing drawing to the base of my cock. I leaned down and spoke through labored breaths.

"I'm ready to come. Should I come inside you? Or should I spray all over your back? Or maybe your hair? A pearl necklace would be difficult to explain to your friends."

"No.. in..inside... come inside me!" came her muffled reply. Moments later I exploded into her, gripping her hips and pushing my invading member as deep as it possibly could go. When my eyes rolled open again, I released my hold, noting the white imprint of my hands on her pale hips from my ecstatic death-grip. I pulled back, my slick cock falling out of her reddened pussy.

Apart from panting, she didn't move as I rose unsteadily to my feet and dressed. When I could muster the breath to speak calmly, I said, "I want you to count to one hundred, slowly. Don't move until you finish counting. Then, best get straightened up. Don't want to have to explain this to Ryan, do you?" And with that, I slipped through the tangle to the trail, and walked up the hill. At the top, I completed my own mental countdown and sauntered back down the hill.

Mary was on the trail. She was flushed and somewhat disheveled, but smiled at me.

"Want to study together?" she asked. Most folks wouldn't have heard the nothing-to-see-here tension in her voice. Nor would they have noticed the balled-up bandana poking out of her pocket.

* * * * *

The afternoon slipped by unnoticed in the windowless lab. Along with a handful of other students, Mary and I quizzed each other about scientific names and leaf characteristics until hunger got the better of me. I told her I was heading on to grab a bite and would see her tomorrow. Mary waved and went back to her notes.

I stopped at the door, then turned and watched her for a moment before slipping back to stand behind her. I spoke just loud enough to be sure she heard me, but not quite loud enough for anyone to eavesdrop.

"It's probably good you and I never hooked up, you being a romantic and all." I saw her back stiffen. "I love to make love," I continued in a lower voice. Then I leaned in close and whispered, "But I have it on good authority that Paul is all about the fucking."

If any of the students in the hall saw my mischievous smirk, they didn't say anything.

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