tagNonConsent/ReluctancePerversions and Transgressions Ch. 05

Perversions and Transgressions Ch. 05

byOver Stimulated©

My relationship with Denise had come to a crossroad. She had graduated with her B.S. in Psychology and been accepted to the graduate program she wanted, but the university was over 500 miles away from where I was attending medical school. We had started dating in college. I was a year older, had graduated a year before her, and had been able to attend medical school close to her. But she had accepted graduate enrollment at a university that was very far away. We had discussed it before she had accepted. It was an excellent program and it would have been foolish for her to pass it up. It was too important to her and her future to not accept it.

We had talked about our future in vague terms. We wanted to stay together. I had said that I could do my residency in the city where her graduate school was. Still, that was three years away. How does a couple stay together for that long when separated by that much distance? Should they even try?

We both wanted to try, but the idea of being apart that much for that long seemed an insurmountable obstacle in the path of our relationship. The thought of waiting three years to be living close together again, assuming I could even get a residency there, seemed a fuzzy wish, not a concrete plan that we both preferred.

I loved her more than I thought I ever would love someone. I still do. She's the perfect match for me and I like to think I am for her. When we started dating we seemed to immediately be at that point that takes many couples, the lucky ones anyway, years to get to, that point where the couple don't fight or bicker, where there's a common understanding and desire to help the other, all while maintaining that allure and lust that comes from just spending time with each other, conversing, touching, watching the other person. A comfort and love that seems very rare when I look at the couples around me.

And it was because I loved her so much that I was so obsessed with watching her being used by men as she was passed out. I had no desire to watch other people used in such a manner. It was only her I fantasized about that way.

I just couldn't consider a life without her. Beyond being beautiful, intelligent, and good-hearted, she's strong and independent. Our classmates seemed like spoiled children next to her. She handled the abrupt and violent death of her parents with a calm solemnity.
She returned to school after a period of mourning and found the strength to focus on her studies, not by denying what had happened, but by delving into the feelings without letting them overwhelm her. Six months after the funeral she still cried on the phone when we talked and recalled stories from her past that stressing how important they had been to her. She was sad by their passing and always would be, but she also valued what they had given her. Her parents had wanted her to be successful and happy and had worked hard to offer those chances to her, and she didn't want to ruin that. She had an optimism and hope in the most difficult of experiences that I had never seen in another person.

We were going to see each other one more time before she went to graduate school. It was only mid-summer, but she was going early to settle in and start some research with a professor she was going to be assisting. We had one weekend before she left. It was during a break in my own studies so we could spend the time together. She was excited about the opportunity in front of her, but the unease in the future of our relationship dampened that excitement. I didn't want that. I also didn't want her to leave.

I must admit my reasons for not wanting her to go aren't entirely based on love, but also lust. Since I had watched her brother-in-law take advantage of her passed out body after her parents' funeral I hadn't been able to make it happen again. I'd had only one opportunity to even try and my target had not taken the bait. Now, she was going to leave and if we managed to stay together we'd see each other rarely and any opportunities to make that happen again would be difficult.

I realized I had been very lucky to be able to witness her being fucked while unconscious four times in the past two years. Three times in just the past year. I had no idea when I could make it happen again. Or if I could make it happen again at all.

I didn't want to lose her, for both loving and immoral reasons. I saw only one way to make this work, to give us a true chance at remaining a couple through the next tough three years. I would propose to her.

Once I had reached that conclusion it seemed so obvious. Of course we should get engaged to marry. It was absurd to think of either of us with another person. Whatever it took we would be together again. An engagement would help to secure that, to reinforce that bond between us, and make those three years more solid.

Her visit that weekend would be the perfect time to propose. I'm sure it's painfully obvious but I'm not much of a romantic. I have little creativity for romance. Denise is the same so it's yet another way we pair so well. I knew making a big grand gesture would seem insincere to both of us, and probably just be embarrassing. But I wanted to make some gesture, however small, proclaiming how much I wanted her in my life, how I couldn't see it being my life if she wasn't in it.

Shopping for an engagement ring wasn't easy. I had very little money at the time. I was in medical school after all, already piling on debt, and I didn't come from a wealthy family. So, I bought a ring not nearly worth what I was asking of Denise. I promised that if she accepted it I would buy her a better ring eventually.

On the day that Denise was to be driving to me for our weekend together she called and said she'd be really late. She'd been busy packing her apartment for the move and had barely recovered from a summer cold. I was disappointed she'd be late but figured it gave me time to think of something special to do for the proposal.

I didn't want to make some grand proposal. I didn't see myself getting down on a knee and asking for her hand. I didn't want to hire a sky writer or some other absurd thing I've seen people do. These things would seem insincere to both of us. But I wanted to surprise her. I wanted to do something special for her.

I didn't have much time and I'm not very creative so the best I came up with was breakfast in bed the next morning with the ring on the tray. I went to the store and bought what I needed.

When she arrived around midnight she was tired and we went to bed immediately. We lay there for a while talking about the future, both of us avoiding discussing what we were going to do about our relationship, just talking about schools and assuring each other that three years wasn't long to wait to be together again, and that we'd find time to visit. We were young, all we had was time. But underneath was a melancholy at the long stretch of time ahead of us. I thought many times of proposing right then but it didn't feel right. It seemed desperate.

Eventually we both fell asleep but I woke early in the morning and lay there beside her wishing I could think of something. I sat up and looked down at her sleeping. I always feel so much more tender to her when I watch her sleeping. Maybe it's her vulnerability. But I always have a strong desire to touch her face, to caress her, when I watch her sleep. I brushed the back of my hand against her cheek and felt a love for her stronger than anything I had ever felt. I knew that we'd make it through those three years and be together again.

Eventually, I got out of bed, dressed, and made her a breakfast of fresh waffles with a strawberry syrup, placing strawberries slices around the plate. I put the plate on a tray with a small vase with one red rose and two glasses of champagne. I left a space between the champagne glasses for the ring. I was pleased with myself. It wasn't the biggest proposal a man could make but it fit for us.

I took the tray to the bedroom and set it down by the bed. I retrieved the ring from its hiding place and set it on the tray. I sat down on the bed next to her. She was laying on her side, facing me, her left hand draped across the bed covers. I started to wake her and then had an idea how to make it more of a surprise.

I gingerly lifted her left hand, watching her face to make sure she stayed asleep. I splayed her fingers apart and straightened her ring finger. Very carefully I started to slip the ring onto her finger. Luckily her ring size hadn't changed since I had bought a ring for her last birthday. The ring slipped over her first knuckle smoothly, but got hung up on the second knuckle. I carefully eased it past the knuckle, twisting and turning, glancing back at her face to see if she'd waken. Getting caught doing that would probably be more awkward than romantic. I got the ring past the knuckle and slid it all the way down to the base of her finger. I smiled and set her hand back down.

I bent over and kissed her softly on the lips. I pulled back to see if it had woken her and it hadn't. So, I leaned in again and kissed her harder, pushing her lips apart with my mouth. I traced a line with my fingers from the corner of her mouth across her cheek to her ear. I softly touched her ear, tracing its curve, tickling the fine hairs.

She didn't respond, so I kissed from her mouth, across her cheek, to her ear, my fingers drifting behind her ear and the back of her neck. I kissed her ear softly, letting my tongue brush the inside. I whispered her name into her ear then squeezed her earlobe softly between my lips. I stroked the soft skin behind her ear with my thumb. Kissing her ear always turned her on, but she wasn't stirring from her deep sleep.

I placed a line of kisses down from her ear and along the side of her neck, sucking softly at the skin after each kiss. My fingers played across the back of her neck. She tilted her head subtly in her sleep, stretching her neck to my kisses. I kissed up the front of her neck, over her chin, and to her lips again. I kissed her deeply, opening her mouth wide, my fingers moving in circles across the back of her neck.

I rolled her onto her back to kiss her harder, my fingers moving across to the front of her neck. I felt her sigh against my lips and broke the kiss to give a soft bite on her lower lip. I felt her body twitch slightly on the bed. I kissed her neck, then nibbled on her soft skin. I heard her sigh loudly and lifted my head to look at her, finally starting to waken. I held her head in my hand and kissed her deeply. I opened her mouth and touched my tongue to hers.

Slowly she woke, kissing me back, her eyes blinking open. I broke the kiss to look down at her, smiling at me, my palm now touching her cheek and jaw line, cupping her face in my hand.

"Good morning," she said and sighed.

"Good morning," I said.

She closed her eyes and lay still, letting me stroke her ear and neck.

"That feels nice," she sighed.

"Good," I said. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," she said. "But tired." She stretched and lay still again. "You should have let me sleep more."

"Sorry," I said. "But I made you breakfast and didn't want it to get cold."

I sat up, grabbed the tray, and held it over her. She smiled and pushed herself up to a sitting position.

"What's the occasion?" she asked, smiling.

I didn't respond and just smiled back at her as I set the tray across her lap.

"Is that champagne?" she asked, looking over the tray.

"Yes it is," I said.

"For breakfast?" she asked. "Now I'm really wondering what's the occasion."

I just smiled again, waiting for her to discover the ring, which she did as she reached out for the glass with her left hand. Her hand stopped before touching the glass. She turned her hand to the side and looked at the ring on her finger. She stretched her fingers out, staring at the ring.

"What...," she started.

"Will you marry me?" I said.

She didn't say anything for a while. She looked from the ring to me and back again. I don't know if she was thinking it over or surprised or groggy from sleep. But I started to worry that she was going to say no.

"Of course," she finally said.

Her face scrunched up, then she started to cry. She leaned toward me and hugged me, knocking the tray onto the floor. I hugged her back and let her cry. She seemed to be crying not just out of happiness, but out of relief, like some huge tension had just been released from her. I'm sure it was all a mix of things from our emanate separation to her graduation to the death of her parents, and probably many other things.

I held her for awhile until her crying stopped. She held her hand up behind my back and looked over my shoulder at the ring.

"Sorry it's not bigger," I whispered into her ear.

"It's beautiful," she said. "I love it."

"Someday I'll get you a bigger one, one you deserve," I promised.

"I don't want another one," she said.

She pulled back and kissed me. At first she kissed me softly. Her cheeks were still wet and her lips tasted salty from her tears. Then, she kissed me harder and deeper. She held me tighter. I kissed her back, our mouths open and tongues touching. She pulled me towards her and onto the bed.

She was ravenous. I hadn't seen her so excited in a while. Her hand was rubbing my groin through my pants before she even had me on my back. She writhed on top of me, kissing me, stroking my penis through my pants, getting me hard. Then she pulled my pants and underwear down my legs and had my penis in her mouth. She took the full length into her mouth and throat and began moving her head up and down rapidly. My body tensed and I grabbed her head to slow her down. She was going to make me come just doing that.

She lifted her head up and looked at me as she peeled her nightshirt and panties off. Then, she straddled me, her hand holding the base of my penis, and put it inside of her as she sunk down on to me until her butt rested on my hips, my penis encased inside of her. She sat up straight on top of me, grabbed my hands, and placed them on her breasts. Then, she began lifting her body up and down, sliding me in and out of her. She did this slowly at first, her pussy tight and barely moist, but opening and becoming slick quickly, then she began thrusting herself on top of me. I fondled her breasts more roughly as she moved faster, tweaking her nipples, then pulling on them, making her cry out so she grabbed the backs of my hands, holding onto me.

I watched the slick shaft of my penis between her legs, moving in and out of her, her firm thighs tensing and straining as she moved up and down, pushing her body down hard and twisting her hips, making her flat stomach tremble. I slid my hands from her breasts to her hips and held on as she began humping faster and harder. She leaned forward, putting her hands on my shoulders, and looked down at me, her eyes intense.

"Fuck me, please," she said.

I had never heard her say anything like that before, but I immediately responded. I held onto her hips tightly and began thrusting up into her, meeting her rapid pace. She threw her head back, whipping her hair back, and cried out as I hit her somewhere deep inside. She slammed her butt down on me, churning her hips, crashing into me again and again. I watched her breasts jostling above me and looked down her straining body to where we were joined.

She was gorgeous, her body athletic and so womanly, round hips and tight waist, firm thighs that wrapped around me, grasping my waist, as she jammed her body up and down, back and forth, trying to take me inside of her as deep and hard as she could. I punched my hips up, shoving into her, as she pushed down and against me. My fingers dug into her hips tightly as I tried to hold my own orgasm back. I clenched my teeth and looked up at her face as she looked down at me again, her hair falling down surrounding us.

"Come with me," she whispered.

She jammed her hips down against me, pumping her hips in small hard thrusts, shoving me into her deep and tight, grasping me tightly inside of her, almost too tight for an instant, then letting go, and I thrust up into her once more and exploded inside of her. She dropped her head down beside me, her cheek against mine, wrapped her arms around my neck, and moaned in my ear as she thrust her hips back hard again and again. I pushed my hips up and held them there letting her move around me, letting her use my cock as her orgasm engulfed her, letting her pull my semen from my body, spurt after painfully blissful spurt. I held onto her thrusting hips, my body tight, feeling I was leaving a pool of my come inside of her.

Then, she lay still, her body laying flat on top of me, panting in my ear. I slid my hands up her body and wrapped my arms around her back and held onto her as she held on to me. We lay there for a while, letting our orgasms fade, feeling my penis dwindle inside of her until it slipped out, making us both sigh. A trickle of semen dripped from her onto me.

"Of course I'll marry you," she whispered into my ear. "I love you."

"I love you too," I whispered back.

We fell asleep like that and woke a short time later, feeling sticky but comfortable. I left her in bed while I cleaned up the mess from her breakfast tray and brought us a light brunch to bed, where we spent the rest of the morning, talking and touching. We decided to wait to marry until I graduated from medical school and had joined her at her university. So it was to be a long engagement.

We ended up spending most of that day in bed. I left once to get her some medicine for the cold she was still fighting. But mostly we stayed in bed, talking and making plans, now sounding much more optimistic than are conversations in bed the previous night. By dinnertime we were both hungry and ready to do something.

"Let's go out to eat," Denise said as she was getting dressed.

"Sounds good to me," I replied.

"And then let's go dancing," she added.

I stifled a groan. I hate dancing. I know Denise loves it and have tried to do it with her on a few occasions, but I just have no capacity for it. I do enjoy watching her dance however. She has that ability to really lose herself in music and allow her body to move with it. And there is nothing I enjoy more than to watch her body move.

"I know you hate it," she said and wrapped an arm around my waist.

She hadn't put on a shirt or bra and pressed her bare breasts against me.

"I'll make it worth your while," she said and kissed me.

She wriggled against me, brushing her nipples across my bare chest and then pressing her thigh between my legs.

"This seems like bribery," I said, breaking the kiss.

"Call it what you want," she said, pulling away playfully.

"What about your cold?" I asked.

"I'll take some more medicine for it," she replied. "Besides I'm almost over it."

She stood in front of me and watched me as she slowly put on her bra. I watched her and then sighed heavily and nodded.

"Okay," I said, surrendering.

She smiled and hugged me again, placing a soft kiss on my lips.

"Can we go somewhere at least somewhat quiet, though?" I asked. "You know that thump thump bass music just gives me a headache."

I wasn't just trying to get out of going dancing. I honestly can't stand that loud bass. It gives me a headache and makes me physically ill. I can't think. I can't concentrate. The constant booming pierces my brain and messes me up.

"Of course," she said. "I was already thinking of that."

She stepped back and started getting dressed again. I sat down on the edge of the bed and just watched her. I think I love watching her get dressed more than getting undressed.

"I was thinking we could go do some country dancing," she said.

"That sounds better than some loud rave club," I said, watching her pull a shirt over her head then run her fingers through her long hair. "But I don't know how to do that line dancing stuff."

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byOver Stimulated© 11 comments/ 50910 views/ 35 favorites

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