I Loved You

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What he did wasn't love.
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You've done it to me again, I'm sat here shaking, knowing that my front door will be knocked on any time now and as I pace around the room I can't help smiling to myself. We've known each other since we were children, played all the playground games we could in primary school, followed each other through secondary school, crammed for exams in sixth form and then were parted for a while, only to be reunited one New Years Eve several years later.

Meeting up with you that night made my head swim and it wasn't due to the amounts of party spirit I had consumed. There was something about you that always managed to make my heart skip a beat, I think they called it swooning in olden days, that heady rush of excitement, lust and sheer unimaginable joy that you were looking at me, that you wanted me

Now here we are, six years later and you still make me swoon, it hasn't been the easiest of relationships, you are away so much with work, but my loneliness is washed away every time I look into the eyes of our son.

I'm walking round the living room, listening for the sound of your arrival, shaking slightly as I always do whenever I hear your voice or see you. A quick glance at the clock tells me it's 17 minutes past 1am, it's not unusual for you to appear at silly o'clock times, it all adds to the mystery you tell me each time I complain when you ring. Inwardly I have cursed myself a million times over about giving in to you and allowing you to invade my sleep, but there is always something about the intensity of your voice that weakens my reserve. So once again as I turn to walk to the door and let you in, my heart pounding in anticipation, I silently forgive you, turn the handle, and am caught by the cold night air that touches my skin seconds before you do.

There you are, with that silly grin, introducing a friend of yours; I ignore the unease inside me, greet Dave, and grin as you whisper "shut the door before I am forced to hang my jacket on your nipples instead of the coat hook."

Once inside I panic, I'm short on beer and only have a few ciggies left, you offer to walk to the nearest 24-hour shop and I tell you not to bother. We sit for a while, talking about nothing in particular, passing around a cigarette. I notice Dave looking at me and am slightly embarrassed when the topic of conversation turns to sex, mainly masturbation techniques, I escape to the kitchen to find another beer while you and he discuss the average amount of wanks a bloke will have during the course of a week.

Blissfully unaware of my surroundings, I jump when I feel your warm lips touch my neck, that one kiss that can turn me on in seconds flat and leave me wantonly begging for more. You grin and continue kissing my neck, your hands reaching round to caress my left breast. I moan as you pinch the nipple, my head falling back to rest on your shoulder. I can hear the smugness in your breathing as your other hand casually drops to my hip, your fingers making slow circular movements over the fabric of my trousers.

I'm brought back to reality when I realise Dave is leaning against the door frame, watching intently and I push you away, flushed by the intrusion. He says not to mind me and as I walk past him and run upstairs I hear you laughing with him. You follow me upstairs, I'm angry and we have a whispered argument about your friend, why he is here and I spit the words of refusal to play a three way scene. You look hurt and storm of to bed.

The hostess in me takes over and I go back downstairs to make sure your friend is comfortable on the sofa, throw him a duvet and turn to go back upstairs.

"Don't go" he says and pats the seat next to him. Feeling guilty that he has been brought round here and then left in a strange house, I sit with him for a while, we talk about his career, my ambitions in life what we did for the holidays, the usual smalltalk two strangers make. His hand starts stroking my arm and I pull it away, reminding him that I am yours and stand to leave the room. He apologises and beckons me to sit again, tired and mad at you for not defending me in any way, I sit, and we resume our conversation. This time his hand starts stoking my leg and for a while I am too afraid to move it away, I do not know your friend, he could be a violent rapist for all I know. The whole time he is touching my leg, his hand creeping up towards my thigh, I silently pray that you will reappear and tell him to back off, but you do not come. He senses my concerns and leans into me saying that it's ok, you have given your permission for him to fuck me so I should just relax. That did it. I stood up, knocking him backwards, said goodnight and came upstairs to find you.

I loved you. p2

There you were, naked as always and sleeping loudly as you always do, but I am damned if you are going to sleep, with tears streaking down over my cheekbones I push you and wake you. You turn over and smile at me in that way you do, but I am too angry to melt this time.

"What the fuck do you think you were doing bringing that asshole round here." I demand

"Relax" you say, "He's a mate, just split from his girlfriend looking for company"

"Who the fuck do you think you are offering me to him" I cry

You laugh and pull me to you, I try to pull away but your grip is too tight, within seconds you flip me over so that your are lying on top of me, pinning me to the bed.

"You're my slut" you whisper while you pull at my top, pushing it up over my breasts, exposing them and as you bend down to take my nipple into your mouth you almost sneer as you say

"I said he could fuck you, but I am going to have you first."

The pain rips through my body as I pull away from you, your teeth tear my nipple, and you laugh, sucking it harder. I try and fight against you, struggling to get away, my arms trying to push you off me, but you continue to taste my nipple, my blood now mixing with the saliva in your mouth. Your other hand is reaching down to pull at the clasp on my trousers. I'm screaming now, cursing you, begging you to stop, telling you that I am not your whore, that I don't want you like this and that you are scaring me.

You stop for a few moments and look into my eyes; the weight of your body still holds me against my will. I am writhing underneath you, trying to get away, but you laugh at me again. With your free hand grab one of my wrists, join it to the other and push it into the mattress.

"You've been begging for me to fuck you roughly and you're loving it, so stop fighting me and suck my cock."

Your words fill my head and I cannot believe it is you who spoke them, I look into your eyes and am frightened by the stare that meets me. I do not know you anymore, you are not mine and there is no way on earth your cock is going to be covered by my mouth tonight.

My top is now discarded though I cannot think how and you are pulling at my trousers like a wolf pulls away flesh from a dead carcass, fear grips me, I cannot believe this is happening. I hear my own voice scream out, pleading with you to stop, hoping against hope that Dave will hear and come to make you release me. Without loosening your grip on my wrists you create a union of fabric between my top and trousers on the floor. I had been asleep when you phoned and had not expected you to bring Dave so I had not bothered with underwear. I am now naked against you and you paw at my body, no gentle touches or soft kisses, you are like an animal possessed.

As you try and push my legs apart, your grip on my wrist weakens and I take the opportunity to try and push you off, but my efforts are short lived as you reach for my free arm, twisting it and slamming it against the headboard. There's a crack, a sickness fills my stomach and I cry out in pain, but still you do not stop, my left arm is now powerless to fight you and with your weight holding me down I cry hysterically and you stop. Finally! I think, but you just repeat your words about me loving it rough and how I am your woman and then pick up the pace of your assault.

Your knee pushes my legs apart and I feel the tip of your cock meeting my naked sex, I turn my head in disgust and am about to close my eyes when I see Dave sitting on the chair in the corner of the room. When did he…? Why won't he…? He is sat there, his jeans around his ankles, his own cock in his hand, just watching us. I can believe this is happening. With a shift of your body you enter me, my pussy feels like it is being cut open. You groan and start pumping against me. I look to Dave, pleading for his help but he says nothing, does nothing, and just rubs his hand along his shaft, the sick bastard, wanking over a rape scene.

I'm still crying, shouting at you to stop, pushing away from you desperate to get away, but you do not stop, you're grinding against me, my pussy is on fire, the pain in my wrist now numbing and I want to be sick. I try to use that as an excuse but you no longer hear me, You are lost in your need to cum and nothing is going to stop you now.

Dave starts groaning, his hand moving more rapidly up and down his cock and he looks at me, he stands and kicks his jeans off and walks over to us. Just as I am beginning to think he has come to his senses, he grabs my hair and pulls my head to an angle away from you. Surely this will make you stop, another man molesting your woman, but you just shift slightly to welcome his advances, you share a joke with each other and don't stop pushing your own cock deeper inside of me.

Dave just stands there, a vacant look in his eyes; he has resumed his masturbation and is pointing the head of his cock towards my mouth. I try and turn my head but his grip in my head doesn't allow it. Sweat is beginning to pour off your head, your own eyes are closed and your breathing is ragged, my only relief comes in knowing that your are near climax.

I'm still crying as you shout "Oh God yes" and I feel you empty your spunk inside me, you look to Dave and grin as his own cum shoots over my face. Without saying a word he turns, picks his jeans up off the floor and leaves my bedroom. Your body falls against me in exhaustion and you roll off of me.

My limbs feel like they are not my own and it takes every ounce of energy I have left to move, for a while I lay there, curled up, shaking, crying and in shock. You actually have the nerve to turn to me, kiss me on the forehead and ask for another cigarette.

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