Unearthed Kinks

This has been sitting in a drafts folder for years. It's going in Non-Consent because that's its theme, but this is one of those stories that borders other categories. If you're into romance with your non-consent, you might like this one. It's there, under the surface. If you're more into rough stuff without happy endings, you might avoid this.

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Brad pushed the green beans to the side of his plate and jabbed at the pork chop. He hadn't really been eating much for the past two days and I could tell something was bothering him. "Are you still mad about Saturday night?" I asked. That was when I'd gone out with a group of girls from work to O'Henry's, which had hosted a male dance revue. I probably crossed the line when it came to drinking that night. Brad wasn't the least bit jealous about guys slinging their dongs in front of me, but he wasn't happy about the mess I made in my drunken state. I didn't blame him.

The reason why Brad isn't the jealous type is because we're only roommates, after all. We barely have anything in common, but the one thing we are great about is our weeknight dinners together. We share our thoughts, sort out financial issues and clean up the dishes together. Sometimes we might clean a room or two, as well. It helps keep the place tidy and splits the workload. We may not be the best of friends, but we're a good team as roommates. I wouldn't trade him for anything, except maybe a husband one day. I was still on the hunt for one of those. I reiterated to Brad, "I'm sorry I came home so wasted and threw up on the floor. I can't thank you enough for helping when I didn't deserve any."

Brad dropped his fork, clinking against the plate. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, Mindy. It's... it's not like you do that every weekend."

He wasn't being sarcastic. This was the first time anything like this had ever happened. I don't usually drink at all, actually. Brad kept shifting his eyes away from me, so I pressed. "Something is bothering you. Come on, Brad. Tell me. If it's an issue you have with me personally, it's okay to communicate what's going on. Did I make more trouble for you than I remember? Did I make an ass of myself? Please, it's okay to-"

Brad was shaking his head, waving me off. "No, no, it's nothing you did. It's just..." There was a long pause, but I stayed silent until he was ready. "You, uh... don't remember much of anything, do you?"

"I barely remember Tammy and Becca hauling me through the front door. I recall you helped drag me inside and tried to get me to the kitchen, just so I could throw up in the sink. Didn't make it. I don't remember much after that."

"Yeah, uh..." Brad scratched behind his ear, sighing heavily. "Listen, Mindy. I have to tell you something and... well, it's really hard to say." Admittedly, the hairs on the back of my neck perked. Did Brad take advantage of me while I was drunk? I would never in a million years have thought him to be the type. I felt so safe with him. "You remember waking up in your room, right?" he asked.

"Yes." Then it dawned on me, I didn't remember how I got there. I woke up in my Winnie the Pooh nightie that I often wear to bed. I assumed I put it on myself.

"You threw up on your shirt. When the other two girls left, you insisted on cleaning it up and took your shirt off. And your bra."

I slapped my hand to my forehead. "Oh, my God. This is so embarrassing. Brad, I..."

"Well, I, you know... we've been roommates three years now and I have never seen you... uh, you know... naked. Uh, up until that happened, anyway."

"Is that why you're so upset, Brad? I swear, I am so sorry for making you uncomfortable."

"No, no, please... let me finish. Anyway, you were kind of writhing on the floor, mumbling, pulling your clothes off. I tried to stop you mostly, but you probably don't remember... and as I was trying to convince you to slow down and stop, I told you I would get you a change of clothes. Anyway, as I was struggling to help stand you up, your left breast pushed against my right hand, hard. You fell over again and I pretty much groped you while trying to catch you and keep you from hurting yourself. It was awkward and..."

"Oh, my God. Is that it? That's why you've been so frustrated? You accidentally felt me up, Brad. I recognize it wasn't intentional. It's okay. It's fine. Hah. If you weren't so bothered by it, I'd probably laugh it off and tell you I hope you got a good squeeze in." It was a pitch to lighten the mood, but Brad wasn't biting. "Honestly, you have my word. No big deal."

Brad sunk his head further. "I wish that was all, Mindy. You passed out with your shirt off, all twisted up on one arm. Your bra was just torn off. I went to the bathroom to get some towels and the nightie from your room. When I came back, I turned on the master lights..."

"Yeah, go ahead."

"And that's when I got a better look at you. You didn't wake up at all and I called your name, tapped your shoulder. When I did that, your... uh... your breasts kind of jiggled. I don't know what got over me."

"Brad? What are you saying?"

"I did something very wrong, Mindy. Maybe if I hadn't had two or three beers earlier myself, I wouldn't have done it, but it doesn't excuse my behavior."

"C'mon. Spit it out, Brad."

"Mindy, I got an erection looking at you." There was silence. Again. Then I started laughing. Once more, I found myself about to explain that Brad was blowing things way out of proportion, but he spoke before I started, "I masturbated over you." Now that was heavy. There was another moment of silence as I absorbed his words.

"Whoa... what?" I asked, softly.

"You were just lying there, Mindy. And I, I uh... I mean... I know you're very pretty, but wow. Even in your drunken state, you have the body of a goddess." I said nothing. Perhaps one reason why Brad and I made such great roommates was because he never made a pass at me. He respected our relationship. When we first met, I thought he was gay until he dated Lilith Peterson. They unfortunately broke up a while back.

"Okay, step back a bit. You masturbated over me?"

"I mean, while watching you. Looking at you."

"You got hard while I was passed out, so you decided to stroke one out. Is that correct?"

Brad looked away again. "Two," he said, meekly.

"TWO?"

"I don't know, Mindy. Something primal took over. I saw your body and just kind of lost it. When I was finally finished, I felt like an absolute shit-heel and cleaned everything up. But the fact is, I can't go on without letting you be aware of this violation. I am so ashamed of myself!"

While what Brad did was uncool, even criminal, I've unfortunately been violated much worse. A story too many women share. Still, Brad was right. This was crossing the line for most people. What Brad didn't know is that it didn't really cross my lines. I'm kind of kinky, I admit. I just don't go announcing it to others. "Brad, where did you cum?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, where exactly did you cum? Did you cum in a tissue? A sock?"

Yet again, another bout of silence hung in the air for an extended period. Finally, Brad sighed, barely audible, "I came on your stomach the first time. The second time, your breasts."

"You came ON me?!?! On my fucking tits?!?" I was screaming, trying to work up the urge to be mad, instead of horny like I was. While I don't consider Brad a potential sex partner and never have, the thought of someone cumming on me while I was passed out turned me on immensely. I had no idea it did until this very fucking moment, though. Goddamn, what the fuck is up with sexuality, fetishes, and the human brain? I recognized I might need to see a therapist over this issue, but right now I was really enjoying it and wished to explore how much it turned me on. I wanted Brad to tell me more.

"Mindy, I am so sorry. If you want to report me or something, I understand. In fact, I kind of -- "

"Brad, just stop. Allow me to process this, okay?" He nodded. "Explain to me once again. In detail. Exactly what led to this?"

"Well, you stumbled while trying to take your clothes off. I was trying to convince you to stop undressing, but instead I ended up copping a feel accidentally. A few moments later, you're completely passed out and I took advantage of that. I masturbated while looking at your naked body."

"You fantasized about fucking me, didn't you?" Brad was almost in tears. I slowed down, "Listen, Brad. I want to get past this. I really do. I hate the idea of us not being honest and comfortable around each other. If you help me understand everything that happened, and if I see real remorse from you, then I might let this go. It may take a few days for me to process, but I will insist we carry on as amazing roommates. To get there, I need this trust extended to me. Otherwise, we will need to part ways."

"What do you mean exactly?"

"No trickle truth. Tell me every detail. I want every second accounted for, from when I was dropped off, to when I woke up the next morning. Understand? No matter how many times we must talk this through, until I am satisfied." Brad nodded, staying quiet. "Walk me to the door. Show me where it started." Brad reluctantly followed me to the front door. "How long were Becca and Tammy here? Didn't they help me to the kitchen?"

"No. They helped you get inside the apartment and were laughing at you while they dropped you off. You were threatening to vomit and they didn't want to be grossed out, so they were in a hurry to leave."

"Oh, huh... I don't remember it very well. How long before I threw up?"

"I kept trying to convince you to get up from the floor. You kept talking as if your friends were still here. At least for a while. A few minutes later, you started feeling sick and tried to get up. It ended poorly with you heaving on yourself and the floor."

"Yeah, gross. Sorry I did that." I sincerely don't have a problem with alcohol. This was the first time I'd gotten drunk in over a year. I've never experience a black-out drunk episode until now. "Okay, show me what happened once I was in the kitchen. Was I still dressed?"

"Once you got near the sink, you started undressing. I tried to stop you, but you were very determined. Insisted you had to get clean because of the mess."

"I was not thinking clearly."

"Not at all. Anyway, that's when you got to your feet, but stumbled. We fell over and I copped a feel."

"I want you to show me."

"Like how? I already explained. You were kind of facing me here, next to the sink, tugging at your shirt which was like snagged around your shoulder and forearm at the time. I was trying to pull it back down and-"

I moved to the sink and turned to him, interrupting, "So I was here?"

"Sort of. Faced a bit more this way, nearer the cabinets."

"Like this?" I asked. Brad nodded. "And I was tearing off my clothes here?"

"That's right."

"I'm keeping my clothes on, Brad, but I want you to demonstrate how your hand brushed against my breast. You better be honest. If I so much as suspect any hesitation of truth, or any bullshit, we can end the lease now."

"Okay, okay. I'm telling you everything, I promise. It was like this. You were here, I reached over to try to fix your shirt." Brad reached over now and touched my wrist and elbow. "Now push toward me, maybe falling past my torso. That's when I reached out and grabbed you like this." Brad pulled me forward and I lost balance, but a split second later he saved me from falling hard by catching me with his left hand... on my right breast. He twisted me around, following me to the floor, while he was able to just barely catch his own balance, standing over me. As I turned in the process, he squeezed and pulled to help break my fall, literally grabbing on to my tit to save me from a harder landing. He certainly got a good squeeze in, alright.

"You're saying this happened fast and that was your only option? You couldn't have grabbed me by the waist?"

"I don't know, Mindy! I didn't mean..." Brad stopped, a tear forming. He nodded quietly and looked away.

"Brad, did you touch me again? It wasn't just when I fell, was it?" Brad was nodding even faster, his chin to his chest drooped in shame. More tears fell from his cheeks. "Calm down, Brad," I said. "No need to cry, but tell me. Tell me where and how you touched me. Tell me everything."

"You know! Don't you?" He was flat out trying his best to keep from bawling.

"No, I don't. I need you to tell me. Brad, did you touch my breasts while stroking yourself?" He nodded again. "Did you twist and pull on my nipples?" Again, he nodded, but still refused to look me in the eye. "Brad, did you suck my nipples?" There was a pause, but I already knew the answer and I was soaking wet just thinking about it. Then it hit me. Was it possible he went further? I jumped at the question. "Brad? Did you fuck me?!"

I never heard such a scream before. One would think I was the one who forced myself on him and not vice versa, and I really wanted to say as much, but fuck if he wasn't punishing himself more over this than I was going to. While I know I should be angered and repulsed, I was incredibly turned on. I like to think if it were anyone else who did this to me but Brad, I would be traumatized, but honestly, I'm not so sure.

I get it. I'm a pervert. A deviant. Like I said, maybe I am less negatively impacted by this because of the circumstances, and because I know Brad so well. No doubt, he had some hours of therapy ahead of him, but I was seeing real remorse. His sadness is not what made me so goddamn horny. Rather, Brad admitting that he used my body without my knowledge and consent drove a new kink in me. I would give up a month's salary to see video footage of it.

"Where did you fuck me, Brad?" I asked, finally. He pointed to the floor near the door. "How was I positioned?"

Brad took in a breath and spoke, voice cracking, "You were completely naked by that point. And your head was closer to the right side of the door entry, your legs there," he pointed. "I'm so sorry. I couldn't help myself. I... I didn't masturbate. I used you." Then he broke into a loud cry.

I paused, allowing silence from me while Brad tried to calm himself down, but I knew what I was going to say from the very start. "Brad, I will forgive you on one condition."

"Anything," he cried, a bubble of snot forming from his nose. He quickly wiped it off.

"Good, because what I am asking might be a lot." He nodded again, agreeing. That is, until he had to hear what I was going to say. "I need to get over this, Brad. To intimately understand it. I need you to reconstruct everything. Physically. We repeat everything that happened, beat for beat."

"What?! No! I can't do that to you again!"

"No, no, Brad. I won't be drunk. I will only be playing the role. I need to understand and experience exactly what happened. You have to do this for me, so I can.... so I can move on from this."

"Wait. You mean, you want me to do everything I did to you again?"

"That's right, Brad."

More tears streamed down. "But it's so awful!"

"Yeah, so awful that you came twice." That snapped his head to me. "And you're going to do it again. You are going to use me exactly as you used me two nights ago. Am I understood?" Brad was nodding fast. "Keep in mind, I am allowing this because I still trust you as a friend. I believe you are remorseful, but I need to truly experience what happened to me. I give you my permission to do this to me, Brad, but it doesn't mean to infer that I know how I will react to it."

"I understand," Brad whispered.

Ten minutes later, Brad was putting his hard cock inside me. Up to that point, he had demonstrated every aspect of the story he shared so far. He groped me, felt me up, helped strip me out my clothes. He even sucked on my tits. During each step, I insisted I needed the exact same conditions applied. Every tiny detail. Which leads us to now. "And I was laid back like this." I asked. "Completely unconscious?"

By this time, I was completely naked and Brad was above me. "Yes, this is almost exactly like how it was. Except you weren't this wet," he said as he entered inside me. His movements were slow and methodical.

"Oh, well, did you just fuck me slow and quiet like this the whole time?" He paused for a moment and then picked up the pace.

"I don't understand why you're making me do this," Brad moaned.

"I need it, Brad. Please. Just fuck me. Use me like you did two nights ago." I was being honest and it came out like dirty talk. I felt his cock stiffen up inside me, tingling my inner walls. "And you said you came on my stomach first?"

"Yes," he cried.

"And then you did this again and came on my tits?"

He stopped for a second. "Well, I actually lifted you up and fucked you harder."

I looked at him, straight in the eyes. "Tell me the truth, Brad. Where did you really want to cum?"

"I... uh... I really liked cumming on your tits, Mindy. I mean, they're amazing."

"Keep fucking me and tell me the truth, Brad. I am asking where did you really want to cum?"

Brad looked away in shame, his face red and strained. "Mindy, please..."

"Brad, I mean it. I need to know everything. I also need to know what you were thinking!"

"Fine, I wanted to cum on your face or in your mouth! Down your throat! I thought it would be so hot, but then you'd have to be participating, wouldn't you? And I thought, maybe it would wake you up. I mean, I actually fucked you pretty hard, but you were so out of it. Still, I wasn't sure I could risk it. I just didn't know!"

"Brad, look at me. You are to use me exactly as you wish you had. Fuck me as hard as you want. Turn me in any angle. And cum down my throat!" I don't know what had gotten into me. Never had I achieved some peaks of horny feelings and behavior. As Brad pounded me, I didn't exert one bit of effort or body movement. I just let my body flop around, while being manipulated by Brad. He grabbed me by the hips, lifting me up into him and forced himself in harder and faster. I could feel him getting close.

"This is how we were right before I came on your stomach," Brad said. I felt is cock getting thicker still. Getting close.

"Okay," I said. "But you have to keep going! Every step to be recreated!" I found it amazing how I could be so completely limp, taking in all this pleasure, while also holding a conversation of sorts.

A second later, I felt his hot jizz splash across my stomach. It shot so far, some bits hit me between the tits. Even a splash on my neck. I came, too, and I don't think I was able to keep it hidden from Brad, though I tried. "How long was it before you turned me around and fucked me again?" I finally asked. Brad was still breathing hard.

He looked down to me. "Um, I don't know. Maybe thirty seconds."

"Thirty seconds?" I yelled, impressed, eyes wide, astounded he could go for a second round so soon after the first.

"Okay, I'll do it," huffed Brad. He quickly picked me up by the hips and flopped me over, while I stayed limp. He then pulled at my waist forcing me to a doggy style position. He entered hard and fast again, and began pounding away. It was almost painful if such incredible pleasure can be described as much.

"You mean, you fucked like this immediately?" I asked, bewildered. "This hard?"

"I have to, to keep it hard. I just came. So if I want to cum again, it takes more effort or I lose it."

I was being utterly manhandled. I had no idea Brad was so strong. He kept my ass high in the air by holding and lifting me at the hips, driving himself deep inside. The rest of my body was tossed about while he did his work. "Pound away!" I screamed, allowing him to toss my body around more. I don't know how the hell he did it, but I came twice before Brad even started pulsing. It's a pretty wild feeling to experience an orgasm when staying completely limp, I learned. I liked it. I could finally feel Brad getting closer now.