The Exception to the Rule

After a little while, I slowed my pace, reached forward and placed my hand on her delicate neck, pulling her head back by the throat. It might have looked brutal to somebody watching, but I was very careful -- the last thing I wanted was to really hurt her. I could feel her rapid pulse in the hollow of her neck, mirrored by the gentle throb in her pussy. I continued to steadily fuck her, admiring the elegant curves of her ass and her pale back before me.

"Are you gonna see Izzy this week?" I asked her conversationally, my fingers tightening a little on her neck without squeezing. Izzy was one of Lara's on-again-off-again girlfriends, the one she slept with most often. I'd met her on a night out once. She seemed nice, if a bit dull.

"Y-yes," Lara managed to say. She shuddered as my cock slammed home inside her again.

"So you and her are gonna fuck?" I grinned. "She's gonna lick your little dyke pussy and suck on that fat clit?"

"Yes," Lara groaned. Her wet, pulsing pussy clenched deliciously around my shaft. "She...ohhhh...she's gonna eat me out. She always does."

I stroked her throat, teasing her, promising a choke without following through. I was enjoying this little interrogation almost as much as I was enjoying fucking her. "Does she make you cum? Does she make your pussy squirt right in her face?"

I couldn't see Lara's face from this angle, but I could imagine the look of tormented arousal on her pretty features. "Ohhh, God...every time," she said breathlessly.

"But when you cum, who are you thinking about? Her or me?" I thrust hard and deep, straining her lovely cunt, crushing her down into the bedding under my weight.

Lara couldn't answer through her moans of shameful pleasure. As I rocked into her, I began to squeeze her throat, cutting off her air just a little. Her breath came in frightened gasps, and she wriggled in distress, though I easily held her in place.

"Her or me, La?" I repeated, edging my voice with menace.

"You," Lara whispered. "I...I think about you."

I relaxed my grip on her throat slightly. "What about me, sweetheart? What exactly are you thinking about, when Izzy makes you cum?"

"Your cock in me," Lara moaned. She was definitely crying now. "I think about your big cock inside me. I think about how good it feels when you fuck me."

"Oh, really? You mean like this?" I said, releasing her neck to instead grab a handful of her hair and shove her face hard into the duvet. Pinning her feebly struggling body facedown beneath me, I hammered my cock into her pussy, fucking her as if I was trying to force her clean through the bed. Her sopping pussy convulsed around my thrusts. Trapped and powerless, her lesbianism forgotten, in that blessed moment she belonged only to me.

She came on my pumping cock, her squirting pussy drenching the sheets, her cry of ecstasy muffled almost silent by the duvet obstructing her mouth. Her small body shook as if wracked by a seizure. I held her down firm and kept fucking her, feeling my own climax building fast and sudden.

"You fucking slut, Lara," I growled, thumping away inside her while she squirmed and orgasmed helplessly. The words came out on impulse. I was drunk with lust, with the unmatched sensation of being in complete control. "You fucking filthy little fake-lesbian whore."

Even now, if she'd said stop, I would have stopped. But all she did was moan.

I came intensely, almost violently. My semen surged into Lara, filling her tight hot cunt in pulse after ecstastic pulse. I thrust deep, wanting to make sure every drop was pumped deep inside her. She was on the pill, I knew, and specifically for me -- I wondered whether her girlfriends knew.

She was still whimpering beneath me when I regained my senses. Her breathing sounded shallow and weak. I realised I was crushing her, and quickly pulled out to let her recover. My cock, spent and slackening, hung gleaming-wet with my cum and her squirted juices. I inhaled the thick, sweet, delightful smell of sex.

After a few moments, I flipped Lara over onto her back; easy enough, she was such a skinny little thing. She put up no resistance. It was a rush to see her lovely face in the moments after sex, her look of dazed disbelief, the tears streaming from her dark eyes. Her chest heaved as she sucked in anxious breaths.

I kissed her on the lips. She tensed up immediately, instinctively afraid that I was going to force myself on her, but we both knew the game was over now. The rest of the evening would be nothing but aftercare. Cuddles, kisses, soft words, a warm bath, maybe a massage to soothe her aches and pains. If we fucked again, tonight or in the morning, it would be totally gentle, all about her pleasure and relaxation. Nothing like what I'd just done to her.

With one more reassuring kiss, I let her sit up. She sat there for a moment, the duvet wet and crumpled underneath her, and looked at me in fearful silence. My cum glistened white on her parted pussy lips. Tears were still trickling down her cheeks. Then, slowly, a tentative smile formed on her face.

"Was that what you needed?" I asked her. The harshness was gone from my voice. I was her loyal, supportive friend once more, wanting only to help and comfort her.

A quick, shy nod. She wiped away her tears. Then her smile widened, and she suddenly leaned forward and kissed me, taking me by surprise with her quickness.

"Thankyou," she breathed, her hands cradling my face, her grateful kisses warm and sweet on my lips and cheeks. "You're such a good friend."

I laughed. What could be truer friendship than pissing on her, choking her, calling her degrading names and fucking her senseless? "Anything for you, sweetheart."

*

I pulled out all the stops for our post-fuck bath together. Mood lighting, bubbles heaped high, fresh glasses of wine, even a few scented candles -- I knew Lara's favourite brand. I let her sit on my lap and relax back against my chest, while my hands softly caressed her thighs under the blood-warm water. Gradually, the lingering tension in her limbs faded away, leaving her as contented as a sleepy kitten in my embrace. It was this, even more than the sex, that blurred the line between friends and lovers for us. I put as much effort into making her comfortable as I had for any of my previous girlfriends.

"I was being serious, what I said during. You're gonna be on my mind all week now. Even when I'm with Izzy," she told me, after we'd been soaking in the bubbles for a while. She sounded resigned to it, though far from unhappy.

"I don't want to get between you and her, La," I said. Having her sweet little ass in my lap was threatening to give me a fresh erection, but I wouldn't do anything with it unless she wanted it. I had the sense she was too worn out for another fuck tonight.

Lara shook her head. "Don't worry. It actually makes sex with her even hotter. The contrast is what does it for me."

"Best of both worlds, huh?" I placed my hand on her naked, soapy breast, squeezing it with deep affection. The cedar and sandalwood scent of the flickering candles wafted pleasantly around us.

"Kind of. When she's going down on me, it just gets me really wet thinking how her tongue is going where your cock was, how rough you were with me, and how she has no idea..." Lara gave a tired laugh, snuggling back against me. "I'm such a weirdo, aren't I?"

"No more than I am," I replied. I kissed the top of her head, and we lapsed into a friendly, unforced silence.

I had no interest in judging Lara, or trying to second-guess her motives for fucking me. Yes, she preferred girls and their gentleness. She no longer saw men as a romantic prospect. But her body had desires of its own, things she couldn't help but crave despite the protests of her rational mind. It wasn't her fault that, sometimes, she just needed a thick hard cock forced inside her.

She could trust me never to go too far. I cared for her too much to overstep the unspoken boundaries we'd set. Hell, maybe I was a little bit in love with her, though I knew we could never be anything more than friends with slightly unorthodox benefits. One day, inevitably, she would find herself a wife, and we would have to end our arrangement.

Until then, I was glad to be at her service.