Ravaging Nikki Pt. 03

Nikki sat in her car, staring blankly ahead. After everything that had happened last month, it was hard for her to be out again. Still, in spite of it all, she was looking forward to seeing her friends and starting to put everything behind her. With a deep and determined breath, she gathered her purse and stepped out of her car.

She made it as far as the sidewalk.

"You never write," that terrible voice drawled, "you never call."

Nikki's stomach twisted as her blood turned to ice. Slowly she turned and there he was, leaning casually against a car just down the block. She couldn't catch her breath.

"Leave me alone," Nikki hissed at him, turning on her heel and marching away on shaky legs.

"Not likely," the man chuckled. "Things aren't finished between us."

"Us?" Nikki snapped, refusing to turn and look at him. "There is no 'us' you sick fuck."

"I'm hurt," he sneered.

"I lost my job because of you," Nikki cried. "You posted that... that picture and they... they..." She flushed, thinking of what her supervisor and the HR man had done, remembering their hands on her body, their cocks forcing themselves into her mouth. "They fired me," she finished weakly.

"Prudes," the man replied.

"You forced me!" Nikki spun to face him, startled to see how close he was to her. "You stripped and fucked me in a stinking alley, you bastard."

"You loved it," the man leered, stepping so close she could feel the heat of him.

"No," Nikki whispered.

"Then call a cop," the man countered evenly. "Scream. That's a public street, someone will hear you. Hell, run into your friend's house, right here, and get help... but you aren't doing any of that. Instead, you brought me here..."

Startled, Nikki looked around and saw where she was.

"... into another alley," the man finished smugly.

She had, Nikki realized. She hadn't retreated down the street or run up to her friend's door. Instead, she'd walked into the narrow alley separating their house from their neighbors. She was standing right under her friend's window. She could hear the music coming from their living room, hear the muffled sound of their voices inside.

"Yell," the man hissed. "Scream. Call for help and I'll go away. If that's what you really want."

"Please," Nikki whispered.

The man's hand shot out, seizing Nikki by the throat. Her breath caught, gasping, struggling for air as his fingers tightened.

"Scream," he hissed in her ear.

Nikki whimpered.

His other hand drove up hard between her thighs, slapping around the crotch of her jeans. His fingers pressed hard, pushing the thick fabric against her most sensitive places.

"Oh, what's this?" the man chuckled wickedly. "You're so wet you're soaking though you jeans."

"No," Nikki moaned, squirming as his fingers pressed the coarse fabric against her wet folds. She was wet, so very wet.

Her whole body was quivering and she couldn't tell if it was terror or lust. Her body didn't seem to know the difference, or care. Her nipples were so hard they ached. She felt like her pussy was soaking through her jeans. Her lips tingled, and she realized how much she wanted the man - this hated, horrible man, who was pushing his fingers between her legs - to kiss her.

Her hips shook uncontrollably and she told herself it was fear. It wasn't to guide his fingers. It wasn't to help him press the hard seam of her jeans against her clit. She was gasping in terror, not panting in desire.

"Are you going to cum?" the man asked, his lips practically touching hers.

"No," Nikki sobbed. "Please... please, no."

His hand tightened around her throat. His fingers pushed roughly against her crotch. Nikki's whole body shook, flushed with unbearable heat. Then she was cumming, moaning desperately into his mouth, her lips pressed achingly hard against his. In the wake of that quavering release, she flushed, horrified with the knowledge that she had closed the tiny distance between their lips.

Gasping, she pulled away, leaning back against the wall of her friend's house. She couldn't bear to look at the wicked smile on his cruel face. Maybe, she justified to herself, that was why she sank to her knees.

His pants opened. His thick, powerful cock hung naked in the cool evening air. Nikki could almost ignore the thought that it was her fingers unbuttoning his jeans, her hands lifting his shaft free. The head of his cock, already shining with pre-cum, pushed past her lips, filling her mouth. She was perversely grateful when his fingers tightened in her hair, taking back control of her motions. Now she could pretend it hadn't been she who had leaned forward, open-mouthed, to take him in.

He pulled her head down, forcing himself deep into her mouth, making her gag. She whimpered, once again helpless in his grip. Pulling her hair, he drew her head almost completely off his shaft before driving himself deep into her mouth again. Saliva dripped from her lips as he roughly fucked her face.

Hastily, Nikki struggled with the buttons of her blouse. She didn't want to stain her top with spit and pre-cum, she told herself. It wasn't that she wanted to kneel in front this man, her breasts bare while his hard cock fucked her face. Her bare nipples were achingly hard from the cool air, not from lust, and surely not because her fingers were unconsciously pinching and tweaking them as the man plunged his cock again and again into her wet, open mouth.

Nikki could hear the man, gasping and grunting as he used her mouth. She could hear her own gagging as he pushed deep. She could hear the sounds of car rushing by the on the nearby street. She could hear, still, the music and muffled voices of her friends just on the other side of the wall from where she knelt, bare-breasted, with a violent stranger's cock ravaging her mouth.

Suddenly, the man thrust hard, holding her head as she gagged and struggled for breath. His already achingly thick cock seemed to grow even thicker, surging as he took his release. He held her, struggling, as he poured his cum into her, flooding her mouth and pouring down her chin onto her flushed, naked breasts.

Finally, he released her. Nikki collapsed, coughing and retching on the rough ground of the alley.

"Next time," the man grunted, buttoning up his jeans, "you're going to taste your pussy on my cock again."

Something landed on the ground next to Nikki's head: a matchbook.

"Meet me there, Monday night at 9:00," the man commanded as he walked away. "Don't be late and don't make me come find you."

Kneeling in the alley, Nikki stared at the matchbook, listening to the sound of the street, the muffled music from her friend's living room, feeling the cool air against the drying streaks of spit and cum on her face, on her naked tits.

Unbidden, her hand fumbled open the buttons of her jeans. She starred hard at the square of cardboard, printed with bold letters, while her fingers pushed into the soaking wet folds of her pussy. Cars rushed by and her friends laughed and talked while she knelt, quivering and struggling not to cry out while she came again.

Pulling herself to her feet, her sticky fingers closed around the matchbook and slipped it into her pocket.