tagNonConsent/ReluctancePerfect Night Ch. 03

Perfect Night Ch. 03


Er... what? He had pulled his shirt over his head and then... did some arm stretches. My jaw dropped. I had seen him naked last night, but I had been pretty drunk, tired, and the lighting was not what it was now. Somehow I had missed how thick and perfectly sculpted his arms were.

He turned as he folded his shirt carefully, revealing the hard lines of muscle in his back. The gag in my mouth soaked up the drool. But my eyes were wide enough that when he sneaked a glance at me, he smiled and struck a little pose. –Though he shyly stopped almost immediately.

When did this guy have time to work out? We worked in pretty much the same place, pretty much same hours. I spent plenty of free time at the gym, but not enough time to diminish the chub, just enough time to keep from breathing too hard when I had to used the stairs. But that was my life. -Work, work, work, gym, sleep, work.

Michael on the other hand, I knew had a social life. He was always caught at some restaurant surrounded by young hot nobodies who wanted a picture and ended up getting in his car with him at the end of the night. I assumed he had a crazy playboy sex life – maybe that's where the calories went.

He slid out of his pants. Oh shit!

That's right.

That's why nothing happened last night.

I'm not one of those people who can approximate measure offhand just looking at a thing. And I don't know what's average for a dude. Michael's the only guy I've seen naked in person.

But I've seen statues.

And sure – I've taken the free tours of a few naked man sites online. Give me a break, I'm a virgin who's about to be thirty any minute. So I've looked.

So I thought I had an idea of what's normal.

Michael was not normal. Or maybe he was? But the dimensions were off. Tampons freaking hurt. I can't even get the jumbo size tampons in.

He sneaked another look at me as he folded his pants.

I looked at him, eyes wide, and shook my head. Now he turned toward me, regarding me curiously.

"Are you really that scared?" he asked.

I nodded my head.


I tried to answer, "That thing, there!" It didn't come through the gag so well, but I think he understood me.

"You're afraid it will hurt."

I tried rolling the gag around in my mouth to get better sound out. "I'm afraid it won't work." I think only "afraid," "won't," and "work," were discernible.

Michael's jaw dropped. "It'll work! Believe me, baby – this guy always works." He thought I was worried he'd be dysfunctional!

I shook my head vigorously in exasperation. "No! Won't fit!"

"Don't start choking again!" he admonished. Last night he tried stuffing a handkerchief in my mouth and almost killed me. I suppose he put a little more thought into his plan today. I rolled my eyes at him.

He began playing with my breast. "You said you wanted me, Jane. You said I was the one. But you're rejecting me now because you're afraid of something new."

No, I was rejecting him because of something huge. And not rejecting him – not really. I just, this was all going so fast, and I was not ready. And oh my – he put his mouth on my breast.

Oh Michael.

One hand toyed with the unmouthed breast, but I began to feel the fingers of his other hand trailing down the length my body, scraping through the hair down there, and then...

Touching things that shouldn't be touched, things only I had touched up until last night when he almost took me for his own.

Both his hands seemed to be doing the same thing, but in very different areas. Circles. Pinching. Massaging.

Oh, things were building up down below, and I wanted more, but no – this wasn't going to work. I couldn't take it. I closed my eyes and turned away, trying to work my arms free. I tried my legs; they were tied down pretty well too. –Then his hand moved to my thigh, stilling my attempts at kicks with firm, unmovable pressure.

"Settle down, Jane," he said. He began to crawl onto the bed, straddling one of my legs. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. He was going to do this. He looked down at me, all muscle and hard eyes. He reached for the gag, saying, "Don't scream," and it occurred to me I hadn't screamed – not yet. I could. I didn't want to draw attention to myself, but that was what rape victims, er, forceful seduction victims did, right? Scream?

He didn't take the gag off. He loosened it, pulling the drool-soaked thing out of my mouth and up over my eyes. Ugh! "Michael, listen," I began, but his mouth was on mine in an instant.

He was heavy, and each of his movements felt unstoppable. His maleness felt weird against my leg; I couldn't figure out how I felt about the way it pressed into my much too chubby thighs. I was melting under him, into him. I didn't care; I just wanted more. He smelled so good. Suddenly his hand was down below, sliding around the shape of me. Then, suddenly, he took his mouth off mine.


He kissed me gently on the chin, and I could feel his weight shift as he moved both his legs between mine. The restraints already had my thighs parted, but I found myself spreading them even more. He paused, unmoving above me.

I shut my eyes even harder beneath the blindfold, and set my teeth. Oh, this was going to hurt. "Jane, you'll be mine forever. I promise..." I felt the backs of his fingers brush my cheek. "I promise you won't regret me. You're so wet, Jane. It won't be so bad. Just relax. You're all clenched up. Relax Jane." He kissed my nose. "Relax Jane." He lightly kissed my lips. "Relax Jane."

I swallowed, vaguely aware that he was right; if this was going to happen it would be better if I tried to keep things loose. I tried to clear my head enough to let go of the tension. I recalled examinations at the gyno – trying to open enough to get the horrible metal thing in. "Do you have protection?" I asked suddenly, voice high, buying time... For some reason. What was my plan? Why was my brain only working in pieces? Why couldn't I focus? Why couldn't I escape??

"You're not on the pill?" he asked.

"Well, yes – but..."

"Don't worry then," he said, kissing me again. He tried to help me, using his finger to gently prod at me. "Are you ready, Jane?" he asked.

I opened my mouth.

His cell phone rang. I turned to the sound, still unable to see anything through the blindfold. His ringtone was the muppets' theme. He seemed to slump a little on top of me. After taking a deep breath, "Just ignore it," he said.

Da daa da dada da da, da daa da dada da.

"Uh..." I said. He hadn't moved either.

Da daa da dada da da, "Muppet show tonight!" I added.

"It'll go to voicemail," Michael said.

Da daa da dada da da, da daa da dada da. It was still playing.

I couldn't help but grin.

Da daa da dada da da, da daa da dada da. "Oh my God," Michael said. I felt him hovering, maybe just waiting for the song to end. Or maybe...

"Take the call, Michael." I tried to sound serious and business-like. Sure, it would buy me more time to think. But he was a serious player in this business. We both were now. Da daa dada da da, da daa da dada da...

"This is more important," he said.

"I don't think I'm going anywhere," I replied, wiggling in my restraints.

He groaned.

He got off me.

Okay, Jane think.

He was going through his clothes. Da daa dada da da. I had always been good at puzzles. Maybe if I didn't pull at the restraints, maybe if I moved in the direction opposite what my natural instincts were...

"This is Michael," Michael answered his phone.

I paused, realizing he had decided to stay in the room. Why, Michael?! I couldn't very well not try to be rescued, but damn... I did not want someone else to know what was happening. This was too embarrassing. I was naked, after all! Still. Seriously. I had saved myself this long. We hadn't even been on a date. I was not into bondage... well, I never thought I was. And I had an Emmy! I didn't want my perfect night ruined with sex I wasn't ready for. I didn't want my first time to be regrettable, nor my perfect night marred by a bad first time. Finally, I did it –

I screamed.

In retrospect, it would probably have been better to have yelled for help or something.

The wind was knocked out of me as he immediately landed on top of me, putting his forearm in my mouth. "What? ...Oh, yeah, sorry. Women. They see one cockroach," he said. Then he yelled, "The roach spray's in the bathroom!" He paused, but added, "Jane!" to the end of his sentence.

Oh fudge.

I could instant jabber on the phone. Someone was excited and rambling.

"Yeah. Jane's here," Michael said. I could hear the smile in his voice. "She missed her ride last night."

I was going to kill him.

I stretched my right arm toward the bed frame, trying to play with the cloth he had used to restrain me. He laughed, "Yeah, we're doing well." He kissed me on the nose.

I felt the metal design that the cloth had been wrapped around on the other end. I tried scooting closer to trace my fingers, and Michael made a point of keeping me still. But I was a little closer.

Shocked, I discovered that the design of the headboard was such that I could slip the restraint off the bed and free my hand.

"No, we haven't had breakfast. Maybe that's why she's so grumpy. Believe me, Andy – Jane is not a morning person."

That's it. I pulled myself to the right, as far as I could go under Michael, and ripped the cloth up and around the metal nooks, crooks and bars that made his headboard, finally slipping my hand free.

I immediately ripped the blindfold off my eyes – just in time to see Michael's surprised face as he simultaneously tried to stop me and not fumble the phone. His arm was out of my mouth, and I yelled, "Help! Help! Help!" like a bizarre alarm clock. The phone landed on my chest as he tried to stop me with his hands – and I knocked the phone to the floor on the opposite side of the room.

We both looked at it. His hands were on my mouth. My free hand was on his arm. We could hear the faint sounds of Andy trying to find out what just happened. Michael looked at me. I looked at him. He looked pissed.

"Michael! What's wrong?!" demanded the tinny voice on the phone.

With a weird growl, he leapt off of me to get the phone. I started in my, "Help! Help! Help!" while attacking the restraint on my other arm with my free hand. Both hands were free!

"Sorry Andy – Jane slipped; I have to go!" He shut off the phone.

I was sitting up, working on my left foot.

He grabbed me, pushing me back down to the bed. But my foot was loose – and I kicked him. "Damn it, Jane!"

He pinned down my free leg with his own, and pulled my arms up above my head. I kept struggling. He kissed me, pushing his tongue into my mouth. Holding both my wrists in one of his hands, his other went to my breast.

And then I gasped! A sudden, overwhelming pain shot through me – he had ripped through me! He just did it. He was inside. I couldn't breathe. I felt like someone had taken an axe to me, just leaving it there, wedged inside me to the point I might split. My legs started to convulse, as if they didn't know what to do. "Relax, Jane," he said.

He let go of my hands.

I didn't know what to do with them.

He propped himself up on his forearms, and looked down at me, worried. "You're mine now, Jane. You understand?" He wiped tears from my eyes I didn't notice were there. "I won you."

Slowly I let my hands come to rest on his upper arms. He was so big. He continued, "I got you into my house. I carried you into my room. I tried to seduce you. Now I've taken you. You're mine."

I was mindless. Pain. Pleasure. I'd always wanted to be his, but I couldn't breathe. He kissed me lightly on the lips. He asked again, "Do you understand?"

I nodded my head. He didn't even warn me! -Well, apart from everything that happened in the last twelve hours. Other than that, he hadn't even warned me!

"Good," he said. He lowered his face to mine and began to kiss me, not as deeply as he had previously, but it was exploratory and sensual. Suddenly, a deep, earth-shattering shudder went through my body, surging out of what he had torn open and spilling over every atom in me. He paused. "Did you just... Already? I haven't even started yet."

Scattered like marbles, I heard myself say, "Well you better get going before I'm done for the day."

Then I felt him raise his hips, drawing himself out of me a bit, then jutting back into me again.

"Oh!" I said into his tongue. He ignored me.

He did it again; the slow draw out, the quick jab back in. My whole body clenched, and I groaned into his mouth.

He did it again. -And again, a split second sooner than he had previously. Next thing I knew, it was becoming regular like a music beat. I was still sore, but part of me was needing more of it.

"More," I asked into his tongue. He stopped kissing me.

He looked into my eyes and smiled.

He pushed further into me, and I bucked uncomfortably. He took a hold of my hips, and slowly got onto his knees while holding onto me, making sure he didn't slip out. He pulled me up, having me sit on top of him, and I couldn't help sinking down so that he was up even further inside me. I yelped when I felt it go as far as it could. I was building again. He squeezed my bottom, and said, "You belong to me, Jane. You're my prize." His voice, so possessive, so primal, sent me over, again.

Weak from feeling, I slumped into his arms, resting my forehead on his shoulder, my arms draped around his neck.

"You're not done, Jane," he said.

"I can't do more," I said.

He grabbed my hips again, and now began to move them up and down on his lap. "Help me, Jane," he said. Oh shit.

I used my legs for support and tried pushing on his shoulders to lift myself. Oh dear.

The man was trying to bore a hole in me the depth of the Grand Canyon. His mouth was on my neck, sometimes his hands were on my breasts. "Oh, Michael!"

He threw me off him, onto the bed! I was too dazed to argue, but I was empty again. He turned me over, much as he had when he had tried to get my bra off the night before. But I was naked already.

He spread my legs as far as they could go, and slid in again, easily. He began pumping me hard and fast, and I grabbed one of his pillows for some sort of purchase, but my whole body was being rocked by his slamming into me. I felt weightless, untethered by gravity or sense. The only thing left in reality was Michael; his hard, huge manhood finding me, tormenting me, loving me, moving inside me and making me, finally, his.

And then Michael screamed my name, and I felt him pour into me. Once more, my body lost control in response. Michael fell onto my back. We were both covered in sweat.

"Okay," I said. "You win."

"I'd like to thank the academy," he said, kissing my ear.

This was turning out to be the perfect day.

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