Movie Night Ch. 05

After that night, Tara became a nearly daily presence in Marcus's life. She was always asking him uncomfortable questions or sending him dangerous pictures. Before, he thought that she'd been a bully, but now she took it to a whole level.

'I'm going to seduce Emma's boyfriend tonight. Which pair of panties do you think says that I'm easier?' she asked one night, followed by pictures of her modeling the aforementioned underwear.

The former was a red satin bikini cut, and the latter was black lace that showed off more than a little bit of her pussy. It made him instantly hard.

'I think either one will work just fine,' he answered, unsure of how to respond to something like this.

'See - this indecisiveness of yours is why no one wants to fuck you,' she sent back a few minutes later, 'but since a loser like you thinks either option is okay, I'm going to go commando instead. Have fun jerking off while I have fun.

She sent him a few short snaps later that night. Her kissing some blonde girl he didn't know. A room full of people dancing at what he thought was the Daniels house across town, and later, though he didn't see it until he woke up in the morning, a message of a snoring man lying in a dark room and a message that read, 'finally, a limp dick that's an even bigger loser than you. He drank too much to fuck me. What's a girl to do?'

Marcus didn't respond, but he couldn't help but wonder if he might have gotten lucky if he'd stayed up late on that Friday night or if he would have finally gotten his chance to fuck his desperate nemesis if he'd gone across town and attended that party with her.

They were desperate fantasies. He realized that, but they called to the sad, pathetic part of him that wanted to fuck Tara even if he knew it was a terrible idea.

Still, that's exactly what he found himself doing the following weekend after enduring another week of teasing and tormenting from the object of his obsession. On Wednesday, she'd almost set up a bizarre encounter with him and Emma so that he could punish the other woman for her boyfriend's terrible sin of not being able to get it up. That had fallen through at the last minute, though, and she'd sent him home, ordering him not to jerk off until she could 'find someone else for him to empty his balls into.'

Marcus hoped she meant something specific and showed up at the party she'd told him she was going to be at the following Friday, but when she saw him there, she just laughed at him and asked, "Really?" before she'd gone upstairs with a guy he recognized from his calculus class.

That enraged Marcus just enough to get hammered. For almost three weeks, he'd been reading between the lines with this crazy bitch, and just when he thought he might actually have a shot, she publically humiliated him. He actually had some pills on him. He was sure that with a little effort, he could find a pretty classmate to bang whether she wanted to or not.

Being halfway to drunk, though, he didn't trust himself not to fuck it up and get himself into trouble, so he just chatted with whoever and got slowly more wasted. That was when he ran into Rachelle.

He and Rachelle had actually gotten to know each other very well last year, though she certainly didn't remember it. Judging by her reaction when he turned to apologize for bumping into her, she didn't even know who he was, but Marcus would never forget the way her tanned skin and large breasts had looked when he'd gotten her out of her clothes at another party not so different from this one.

That look of surprise stole his apology away before he could utter it, and instead, the confluence of alcohol and entitlement brought together an altogether different response to his lips. "If you don't keep those tits to yourself, I might just take that as an invitation."

He expected to get slapped for it or maybe even beat up by some of the other guys standing around, but he didn't really care. He hadn't had a good fight since high school, and maybe the fists of strangers or assholes could knock enough sense into him for him to finally get the fuck over Tara and her mind games.

"Excuse me?" Rachelle said. It wasn't as angry as he expected, though. She was acting like she legitimately hadn't heard him over the music. Apparently, god was looking out for him and giving him a chance to change his mind.

"You heard me," he said, leaning forward slightly, practically begging for it. He didn't want to be let off the hook. He wanted her to slap him and scream and get his ass kicked. Certainly, if any woman in the world had the right to do that, well... Rachelle would be on the list at least. He swallowed hard as he realized how uncomfortably long that list really was.

She didn't scream, though. Instead, she furrowed her brow briefly before she smiled. "Maybe that's exactly what it was," she said before wandering off toward the kitchen and leaving him there with his head spinning and his dick hardening.

"Did she just fucking hit on me?" Marcus asked himself.

She couldn't have, of course, because no one had ever done such a thing, but somehow... some way... that's exactly what had just happened, and it had been a girl that he'd taken advantage of before. Rachelle was way out of his league. It was easy to see that just from the amount of cleavage. She was a hot bitch, and judging from the way men she crossed paths with looked at her, they'd be inclined to agree.

Still, Marcus was feeling self-destructive, so he decided to follow and surreptitiously see how the other half lived. He had no real experience with women who were conscious. He'd stopped asking women out after rejection number twenty-four while he was still in high school when Patricia Nealson had staked him through the heart in front of her friends.

Mostly, what he saw as she wandered through the crowded kitchen and into the slightly less crowded backyard was other guys getting shot down. A lot. He also saw Rachelle look at him once as she grabbed a mostly empty bottle of vodka. She smiled inscrutably before heading further into the dark, away from the patio.

At this point, he was committed, and he followed her. Even drunk, he thought that what was happening was pretty clear. She was looking for the same sort of risk that Tara longed to inflict on other women. Normally, that wasn't his thing, but this girl, on this night? It would have been impossible to stop himself.

He found Rachelle sitting on a swing, sipping on the last of her bottle in a relatively secluded corner of the yard near the chain link fence that separated the house from the woods behind the development.

"Are you stalking me?" she asked immediately.

"Not yet," he answered, suppressing the urge to apologize, "but that could change. The night is young."

"So then, why are you back here if you aren't trying to take advantage of me?" she asked, trying another tactic.

From the way she was fishing, she was sure she wanted him to say something specific. Something mean-spirited, probably, based on her reaction to what he'd said earlier and her reaction to all the other guys who had tried to compliment her.

"Me? I'm just here to give you a little push," he said, chickening out as he walked behind her and grabbed her ample ass briefly before pushing her on the swing and sending her soaring a few feet in front of him.

"Fun, but that's not the sort of push I was looking for," she said softly as she swung back toward him.

"Who cares what you want," Marcus said, unable to come up with anything clever as he grabbed her ass again to make another half-hearted push.

She was moving away, so it was hard for him to be sure, but for a moment, Marcus thought he heard the woman moan, and he was sure it was from his words more than his touch. He was starting to get a better idea of what was going on now.

This time, when the swing came back, he didn't push her. He grabbed the ropes, bringing her to a stop just in front of him. Then, very deliberately, he pulled her closer to him so that his throbbing bulge was pressed against her back. "You're pretty screwed up, aren't you," he said, not sure what else to say.

"What do you mean?" she asked. Rachelle tried to keep her tone light, but he could hear the slight quaver in her voice.

"I mean," he said, bringing his right hand around the swing's rope to grab her by the throat. "You don't want to have a choice."

His heart was pounding in his chest as his feigned bravado wore thin, but still, even though he expected her to call him a creep and a loser any second, he felt compelled to keep going. She didn't respond, but really, that was all the response he needed, and he tightened his grip in response.

"All the guys at the party telling you how pretty you are, and all you want is one that won't take no for an answer," he continued as he stepped around the swing without removing his hand so that he could meet her eyes. "Sounds pretty screwed up to me..."

His words lingered in the night air as he looked at her pleading eyes and, beyond her, the ongoing party. When he'd been pushing her before, he'd been looking out into the darkness behind the house, and even though he knew they didn't really have a lot of privacy, the throbbing music combined with the darkness had combined with all the drinks he'd had to make it feel like he might be able to do anything without getting caught.

This new perspective made that harder, and even though he could see how badly she wanted him to make a move, he almost chickened out. How could he grope her like he'd been planning when only twenty feet behind her was a whole patio full of guys who could probably see everything he did and were just waiting to laugh at him.

"I..." he started to say. Ready to apologize for all of this.

That was when his gaze drifted up, and he saw her. Above the bright porch lights were a couple windows that were presumably for the upstairs bedroom. In one of them, the blinds were down, but the lights were on. The other one was dark and appeared unoccupied, but as his eyes refocused, he saw some movement.

There, hidden by the dark, was Tara with her tits pressed against the glass while some nameless dude-bro pounded her out from behind. That one image was enough to boil his blood. The only girl he really wanted, and she was up there getting fucked by everyone in the world except for him. He could see the look of ecstasy on her face. He could see her mouth wide open, and even if he couldn't hear her moans, he could imagine them as he fogged up the glass.

"I guess if you don't want to say no, then you won't mind if I use your mouth for something besides talking," he said distractedly as he reached down and started to unzip his fly.

He gave her all the time in the world to say no or to run screaming, but she didn't. Instead, she just sat there looking up at him until his dick was in her face. Once it was inches from her, she still didn't react, but then he didn't expect her to. If her fantasy was to be forced, then he was going to have to force her, at least a little.

Removing his hand from her throat, he grabbed Rachelle by her dark hair and shoved her face into his dick. At first, he just felt the head of his cock rub along her lips, but when he mumbled, "It's going to be a whole lot more fun choking you with this," she finally opened up her mouth and inhaled half his cock in a single motion.

"Mmmmm..." Marcus moaned, feeling the unexpected hot, wet heat of her hole. As her tongue began to wriggle and dance, seeking to pleasure him, his knees almost buckled, and he used his free hand to hold on to the swing's rope for support while he used his other hand to control the pace.

This was a singular experience for him. Not only was it his first time having sex in such a public place, but it was his first time doing so with a willing partner. Other than with Tara, he had milked him for his seamen in that treehouse, of course. Just thinking about that moment made his dick throb in Rachelle's mouth and made her choke a little as he went slightly deeper than before.

"That's right s-slut, you take it," he breathed, having trouble focusing. Between the drinking and the pleasure, he felt somewhat deflated. He felt like things were starting to spin out of control.

He might have lost it right there if he hadn't looked up. When he saw Tara getting fucked again, something inside him broke. She wasn't pressed against the glass anymore. This time she was sitting on the windowsill with her back to him, and he could see the silhouette of a man standing between her thighs as he fucked her.

Suddenly, Marcus felt the need to do more. He felt the need to compete somehow. Without even realizing he began to pull Rachelle's hair a little tighter and fuck her face a little faster.

"That's right cunt," he murmured. "You take it all, or I'll just start using your other holes next."

Marcus was lost in his own world right until he heard her moan and looked down to find his partner looking up at him. The rougher he was, the more she loved it. Intuitively, he understood that, but that didn't stop him from doubting that truth every step of the way.

Well, he could feel the cum boiling in his balls now. He wasn't going to doubt himself anymore. "Touch yourself," Marcus ordered as he moved his hand from the swing and slid it down the front of her dress to grope her left tit under her bra. "I know this is making you wet as fuck."

Her hand immediately went to the hem of her skirt and slid between her thighs as she moaned around his dick. It was like she'd been waiting for permission. It was so fucking hot.

Her immediate compliance only increased his confidence. "If you don't cum before me, then the next hole I'm going to use is your ass." Marcus threatened.

This was enough to speed up her already eager movements as she gagged on his cock, but that wasn't the point. This wasn't about Rachelle. This was about feeling like he was in control. For the first time in his life, he was. He didn't understand it, but he did kind of love it.

The faster he fucked her face, the faster she frigged her clit. Marcus didn't even care if they were caught at this point. Though he was confident no one could hear them over the din of the party, he was certain that anyone paying attention could probably at least see him getting his dick sucked.

She'd probably do whatever he wanted to, she realized. That blew his mind as he thought about how he'd used her so long ago. That thought turned out to be a mistake, though, because as soon as he remembered what she looked like unconscious beneath him, he felt his balls tighten. He was going to cum any second, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Here it comes slut," he groaned. "You better swallow it all too, or you're going to have to walk to the bathroom with my cum on your face..."

The threat wasn't necessary. She was eagerly sucking until the very last moment, and as he started to shoot his load against the back of her throat, she swallowed it all and seemed hungry for more. Her body stiffened, too, and he was certain the taste of his semen had pushed her over the edge.

He had no idea what was going through her head, of course, but he was fairly certain she imagined that he'd just raped her pretty little mouth. His post-nut clarity left him wondering if she'd try to get him in trouble for that, but there was no time to ponder the question. By the time he was trying to figure out how to reassure her or make sure she was okay, she was already going.

"Where are you going? I wasn't..." Marcus started to say, but she was already pushing past him.

"Sorry. Mm out past curfew," she mumbled. "This was nice, though. We should do it again sometime. Marcus."

Until that moment, he had no idea that she'd even known his name, and as she ran off into the crowd like a shameful Cinderella, leaving his dick hanging out, he wondered what fresh hell he'd just gotten himself into.