Hate Fuck Buddies

"Shy?" Warren grinned as he re-zipped his pants. "Better go inside quick, right?"

Brynn shook her head. "You can't be serious, I can't be here looking like this, going in there with you!"

"Oh yeah?" Warren laughed. "What if I just tell your mother what we did?"

Brynn froze with fear, until she realised the truth. "She'll never believe you!"

Warren gave her a look of mock admiration. "Not as dumb as you look!" He waved a hand, as if dismissing all the drama which he'd introduced. "Nah. I'm not gonna make you do it."

Brynn frowned. "And why not?"

"Because I know I don't have to force you," he observed. "You can go home if you want, the bus stop's right over there. Just make sure to wipe your chin and make sure they don't smell your breath." He winked as he got out of the car and walked inside to book himself a room.

Brynn watched him go, marvelling at what was going on. She was half convinced that she was in a dream rather than living reality. Then she noticed a couple of teens ogling at her costume.

With one final jolt of embarrassment, Brynn got out of the car. But rather than walk over to the bus stop, she walked in through the main entrance of the motel.

Warren glanced up when she walked in, and gave her an "I told you so" smile which almost made her storm back out of the motel. But she had made her choice, and she didn't want to back down now.

Truthfully, she was tired of being the best daughter anyone could ask for. She was weary of fighting a losing battle to make someone else's dream come true. And from what she'd seen of the political system, she was losing faith in anyone's idealism surviving the machinery. This was a chance to rebel like she'd never done before, and she felt herself getting aroused at the thought of what was happening. She could taste Warren on her tongue, she could feel herself growing warm under her costume, and she blushed at the judgmental look the motel's clerk gave her before she followed Warren to their room.

As they walked, Warren slipped his arm between her back and her cape before sliding his hand down to grab her ass once again. As he rested his fingers against her costumed rear, he asked another question. "So, who was your first hate-fuck?"

"Three years ago," Brynn admitted.

"And who was he?"

"He was a guy I went to high school with," Brynn continued, seemingly unable to stop herself confessing this secret. "We went to the same law school. We were both law clerks working for opposite sides."

"Let me guess," Warren suggested as he began to unlock the front door. "He was the loser who called you a bitch when you turned him down? Or was he the jock who called you a feminazi?"

"Neither." Brynn walked into the motel room, even as he closed the door behind them. "He was the trust-fund asshole who thought he deserved everything he got in life. His dad worked with my mom, so we saw each other all the time. Then he decided to be an asshole full time and go corporate."

Warren pushed her against the wall. As she squeaked in surprise, she felt his strong fingers find where her costume was connected, and work on undoing it.

"Smart kid," Warren approved. "So you got jealous that he was being the better rebel?"

"No. I was jealous when his side won the case. I went to the bar to drown my sorrows, he found me and had a fun time being smug until he offered to drive me back to the campus."

"Did you start blowing him then? Or did you wait until you got back?"

Brynn blushed. Not only because of the answer, but also because he had pulled her costume apart. Only her mask remained. Besides that, she was standing in front of him with just an old t-shirt, socks, and underwear on. Everything was damp to the touch, and only mostly due to sweat.

Warren slowly undressed himself in front of her. He'd worn his suit with such elegance, but given his nature, she might have expected him to tear his clothes off like a werewolf. His movements were fast, but they were measured, as if this process had been rehearsed.

"How many people have you hate-fucked like this?" Brynn didn't know if she wanted to be the first time or the last of a hundred. Either one felt mortifying.

Warren didn't answer her. He simply stripped down while he stood close enough to breathe on her. They were of a similar height, but they both knew who was in charge.

A firm hand guided one of Brynn's to the cock between Warren's legs. It was erect and slowly pulsing. Brynn's breathing grew faster as she closed her hands around it and began to stroke.

It was then that Warren grabbed her t-shirt with both hands and gave a hard tug. After three more of those, a tear appeared in the middle, much to Brynn's surprise. She stared wide-eyed as he tore her t-shirt to pieces and casually undid her bra so that it slid to the floor.

Her caramel breasts, topped with long black nipples, slowly began to swing as Brynn gripped Warren's member and jerked faster. She cried out in surprise as both his hands grabbed her breasts and dug his fingers deep.

"Take off your panties, slut."

Without ceasing her handjob, she obeyed. She felt herself getting wetter as he explored her body with his hands, pinning her against the wall. After a moment, he pushed her hand away, spun her around, and positioned himself so that his cock plunged between her lips.

Brynn cried out again as she was pressed against the wall. His cock entered her, filled her, and probed further still as he began to thrust his hips. His breathing was as fast as hers, but louder and raspier. She cried out again and again as he fucked her. Once again, she found herself questioning the reality of what was happening. It was as if she'd plunged into a forbidden fantasy that she'd never dared to fully imagine.

She did not know how long they were there, but it ended as abruptly as it began. His cock slipped out of her and his hand gave her such a slap that she squealed at the top of her lungs.

"Good," Warren gasped. "Let them know what a skank you are." He grabbed her and pushed her towards the window, even as he yanked the curtain aside. "Show them what a slut you are."

With that, he began to fuck her again, even as she stared in shock at the sight in front of her.

It was night-time, and the scattered streetlights cast an orange glow, contrasting with the black shadows which swallowed everything between the gaps of light. The only other sources of light were the occasional cars zooming past the motel on the expressway nearby. Brynn couldn't see anyone who was driving those cars, but they could certainly see her. Her naked body was on display, pressed up against the glass like she was in Amsterdam's red light district. Warren was able to hide his face as he fucked her, pressing his weight against hers as she cried out in shock and rage.

"Oh fuck you!" She wanted to shout those words furiously. But she couldn't stop herself from feeling pulses of pleasure, to the point that her insult died in her throat after the second word. She gave a wordless moan as she heard faint car horns saluting her from a distance.

"Good thing they can't see past that mask," Warren rasped, even as he fucked her harder than ever before.

She wondered who could see her, and how long they would hold that image in their heads. She wondered what those people might think of her, this anonymous slut showing herself to the world. It was shocking, mortifying, but also liberating. Her shame and embarrassment was fuelling a passion which she hadn't recognised could exist within herself. She felt herself speeding towards a climax while Warren finished inside of her. His load was an invasion, an infection, a conquest. She felt filthy, she felt used, and she cried out like an animal as her limbs shook and her body pulsed.

They remained there, gasping from the effort, showing off her body to untold numbers of drivers shooting along. Warren even waved to them while hiding his face, prompting yet more car horns.

Finally, Warren yanked the curtain back into place as he stepped away from Brynn. "You can go now."

"What?" Brynn gaped in astonishment.

Warren laughed as he walked over to her things and picked them up in one hand. "Yeah, I figure I should try to discourage any affection between us. Otherwise you might not want to come back for more."

With that, he opened the motel door and threw her clothes and costume out into the hallway.

"What the fuck?" Brynn gasped as he also threw her purse outside.

Brynn sprang forward, throwing a hateful look at Warren as she did so. All it got her was one last spank before the door slammed shut behind her.

She was whimpering with fear as she frantically tried to get dressed before someone saw her. Once, she heard a door open while she was pulling her Batwoman pants back on. The occupant roared with laughter at the sight of her half-dressed figure, and she'd given up on the rest. She simply wrapped the cape around her, carried everything else in her arms, and fled the motel without so much as looking at the bemused clerk.

She found a dark corner of the parking lot where she finished getting dressed. Her heart was still pounding at what she'd done, what he'd done to her, and the very idea that he expected her to come crawling back for yet more hate-fucking.

But as she stomped over to the bus stop and waited for a ride home to her apartment, Brynn knew full well that she was going to do exactly that.