Bad Choice

He had me up for a glass of wine. I should have known better, should have thought the night through. Should have kept an eye on the door, should have kept on my shoes. He was attractive, and interesting, but I hardly knew him, and sex was not on my agenda. But I could feel it on his the whole night, and I just wanted to spend a little more time next to the heat of his lust, and that was my mistake.

He asked me into his room to show me a painting. I should have asked him to bring it out to me. I should have called it a night. But I was warm with wine, and I went.

I stood close to him to look at the brushwork, and honestly that was the only thing on my mind. But he was close enough to scent, and I could smell that oak and iron smell of men I hadn't had in my nose in months.

Suddenly I realized if I could smell him, he could smell me. I snapped my head to look at him, and the flame in his eyes told me I was in deep trouble.

I slid the empty glass onto his bureau, not too frightened to be careful, and made for the door without a word. But he wasn't confused. He snatched me by the waist of my skirt and pulled me back, driving his erection into the back of my thighs, easing up the hem of my skirt with both hands...

"Please don't," I said, clearly. And I'm strong and fit, and I tore his hands away and made another lunge for the door.

He seized me by the shirt and threw me on the bed with terrifying ease. I was strong – how could he be so much stronger? I rolled onto my belly and crawled fast for the other side of the bed, but he was on top of me in an instant. Two-hundred-twenty pounds of flesh above me – I could have pressed myself up, on a bench, in the gym, but he pinned my arms like a wrestler. All I could do was squirm, and every movement lifted up my skirt a little more...

"Let go... let go of me..." I whistled

"You know you want me. You want me inside you."

"I don't."

"You don't?" he asked, pausing. I breathed with relief. He was going to let me go...

"No. Please, no."

"If you don't want me, you won't be wet, will you?" he asked.

I shuddered. His weight bearing down on me, it was difficult to breathe. He shifted his weight to one side to pull my skirt around my waist, leaving one thigh exposed to the air. I whimpered... I felt his hand travel the inside of my thigh, and I knew what it would find...

He arrived at the thin fabric of my panties, and he laughed out loud. I hated him for laughing, and I bucked hard, taking my chance to escape. I barely shifted him an inch, and his hand stayed right where he left it.

"You're soaking wet," he said, and I was. My face burned with shame, and a thread of tears snaked down the side of my nose.

"It doesn't matter. I don't want you..."

"You don't?" he asked again. He petted my sex, gentle as a kitten, from the crest of my clit to the seam of my ass, in a great, sweeping oval, again and again. I began to burn, and ache, and as I struggled I could feel the lips of my sex slipping against each other. I was so wet... maybe as wet as I've ever been, and I ached for relief.

"You want it," he said.

"No..."

"Ask me for it."

"Please don't..."

His hand slipped to where my thigh joined my sex, at the little lace border of my panties, and he hooked a gentle finger underneath the cotton crotch, completely soaked. He threw an arm under me as easily as if I were a bag of groceries, and I couldn't move a muscle. I could only lie and shiver as he touched me... let his fingers explore my panties...

I felt his fingertip approach my clit, and I longed for it. It seemed like only a few strokes would bring me to climax, if he would just touch me, just touch it...

The hand disappeared, and my heart sank with disappointment. Disappointed? The shame of wanting him made me wetter, hotter, and I eased my legs together just to contain it.

He shifted upward and I heard that zipping sound. Despite my desire, my belly ached with fear. I wasn't ready... I couldn't handle it...

The thick and slippery tip of his cock sprang against the fabric of my panties. Through the crotch it strained my hymen, begging for entry. I squirmed against it, but it only bunched my panties to the side. His cock was now touching skin, though still barred by my panties... the tiniest thread...

"Don't do it... you don't have to..." I pleaded.

"I do... I have to..." His hand underneath me shifted me up again, and suddenly it was down the front of my panties. He teased the short fur of my sex, inching down. I bore down on his hand, trying to pin it, but it was too strong, and moving... moving steadily down...

His fingers landed on my clit, so slick I could hardly feel them at first. But he rocked his hand against me, working off the wetness, until the slow ache of pleasure began to build.

I struggled against his cock again, wildly, unsure if I was trying to get him away or inside me. Either way would be a relief... either way would be a way out of this awful agonizing limbo...

He shifted again, and suddenly his cock was right at the gate of my sex, panties pulled aside and so wet as to be no resistance anyway. Did he know? Could he feel it? Did he know just one thrust would have him inside me?

It was now or never. I grabbed the edge of the mattress and pulled with all my strength, kicking up both legs, and threw him to the side.

For a heartbeat I was free... for a heartbeat I had a chance for the window, something... my clothes still on, my chastity intact...

But without even leaving the bed he grabbed me by the skirt and threw me back to the bed, on my back this time, and leaped on top of me. He pinned my arms with both hands. I thrashed my legs, keeping my knees tight, but it didn't matter. He pushed one knee between them... then two... and wedged my legs apart.

The harder I struggled, the harder the seam of my panties struck my sex, and the more worked up I became.

He released me suddenly. Before I could react, he snatched my panties in both hands and tore them apart. He was that strong. I realized in that moment there was no getting out of this.

He pinned me again, and slapped his cock against my naked sex. He shifted into position between my legs, dancing the thick purple head of his cock against my gate, pushing this way and that. I flailed, even turned sideways, but his cock was too big for it to matter. It was everywhere, and the more he worked it against my pussy, the wetter it got. The wetter it got, the easier it slipped between my lips.

I shut my eyes tight.

"I'm begging you, please..." I whispered. "Don't do this."

He grabbed my face and made me look up at him, made me see the look on his face as he finally pushed... His eyelids shuddered, his cock swelled and pulsed, and he was inside me.

There was a surge of startled pain, and then nothing. He rested inside me like a coiled snake. I shut my eyes again, and he slapped my face until I looked at him again.

And then he started to fuck me in earnest. Long strokes, and I struggled against them, but he was too strong. He was in complete control. The best I could do was to snap my hips away from his stroke, but he would just find the center again.... he would just push into it again, and he pushed and pushed, thrusting slow and deep, until I couldn't think, couldn't even think of how to throw him off.

My brain filled with fire, with the liquid movement of his cock inside me. My thighs began to shake, and he groaned in response. And God help me the sound of his groan made me wetter, and he could feel the change. And he groaned again, and I got wetter again, and I moaned despite myself at the pulse of his massive cock in me.

He took his hand off my face and pushed it to my clit, working the entire front of my sex with his broad palm. I shouted out loud. The pleasure, the fear, the shame was too much for me. I felt like I was burning alive.

"Please... please..." I begged.

"Please what?" he asked, a look of smug satisfaction on his face. He played me like a piano, plunging his cock like a sword.

"Please fuck me..." I said.

"I am fucking you."

"Please... fuck me harder..."

He smiled – a real smile – and stepped up his tempo. I could hear the thick sound of him sliding inside me, and I could feel him as deep as my navel, alive inside me like a dragon.

I shouted again. I didn't care who could hear me.

He dug his nails into the back of my neck.

"Come for me," I groaned. "Come for me, you fucking asshole."

He grunted. I felt his balls clench, his cock fatten up... He doubled the speed of his hand, and I felt my climax tumble over me like an avalanche.

"I'm coming... oh Jesus Christ I'm coming..."

I slapped my thighs around him, screaming. The pleasure was unbearable. Tears spurted from my eyes. I bit him on the shoulder, and suddenly he shouted as well.

"I'm coming, oh God..."

He threw back his head and drove into me... it hurt like fuck... I punched him in the chest, but he just fucked harder...

I felt his cock go off like a shotgun, spurting deep inside me. Immediately it began flowing out, even as he plunged his final thrusts...

He collapsed, broken, sweating a river onto my breasts.

I waited, motionless, unsure what to do... praying for his erection to return...