Ghost Games

The party downstairs was finally dying down. She lit a countless cigarette, listening through the study door. People were saying their drunken good-byes, their voices disappearing out of the front door. The night engulfed in smoke and mundane conversation was slowly fading out... She though it would never end!

There was silence, and after a short eternity – she heard him locking the door after the last guest. A few second later (tick... tick...) he walked into the study. Her heart fluttered, as it often did at the sight of him - and after a bit of red wine.

Without a glance, he walked over to the PC. She felt the familiar ball of anger building in her throat. A night filled with sexual innuendoes, going as far as him feeling her off under the table, unknown to the guest – and now she is left hot, bothered and angry. Yet she absolutely loved his profile illuminated by the cold glow of the screen. Unfair!

Finally he seemed to have noticed her, walked over and casually fondled her breasts with that beast amile. Still angry, she said

- So you think you can just walk in here and fuck me... Just like that?!

- I know you want me to – he purred

- And what if I say no?

A strange look formed in his eyes. He grabbed her wrists and said:

- I don't care. I am going to fuck you anyway.

He twisted her arms behind her back and pushed her into the bedroom. It was almost entirely dark. She couldn't see his face. At that point the fear kicked in.

He threw her onto the bed like a sack, leaving her breathless. As he slowly approached – she tried to escape him by rolling onto her side. He grabbed her and pulled her shirt up over her head, fastening the sleeves together. Her arms were now bound. As she tried to kick – he pressed her legs down with his weight, a hand around her throat.

- Now what are you gonna do, ha?

She remained silent, squirming under him, trying desperately to push him off. She was reminded, once again, of her small build, something she worked hard at maintaining and was proud of – except for in situations like this. It was terrifying how little difference her futile attempts at resistance made. He only laughed

.

- I am going to fuck you and there is nothing you can do – he growled

The rest of her clothes were instantly ripped off. She just lay there shivering in fear – she loved a sexual game as much as the next girl, and more, but by this stage she genuinely had no idea where this would go and admittedly felt exited at the thought.

She could not see him at all. She could only hearhis shoes drop to the floor – one, then another, a zipper being opened, and his footsteps approaching.

He was on top of her. She felt his unshaven face pressed into her breasts. She uttered a small moan – evidently that was all the invitation he needed.

Without further hesitation he shoved his cock inside her. She found it slipped in quite easily – her body was obviously getting some mixed signals. His cock was hard and thick, making her bite her bottom lip in a wave of pleasure.

He leaned over and whispered – his voice low and hoarse:

- You like that! I know you do!

She did... Wait, did she? Why? How could she be so weak, so engulfed in his brutal sexuality? Had she no self-respect?

It was then something inside her snapped. Above the fear and the pain from being thrown so hard was anger. She was pinned down, violated and helpless. But she was stronger than this, she thought. She would show him. She looked up at the man-shaped darkness and said:

- Is this it? Is this the fucking worst you can do? Is it?

It wasn't.

Everything happened really fast. She felt herself flying across the bed, landing in that small space behind it. Her head bounced off the cupboard. Everything went white and blurry. This only got worse when his hands closed around her throat, pushing. Air and the surrounding darkness were fading out. Stay awake, stay awake – she thought.

She was half aware of the fact that he was inside her again, fucking her hard and fast.

- How do you like this, bitch?

Not hearing an answer he slapped her face a couple of times. Then he spat in it.. His spit stank of bad alcohol. It felt strangely exciting. Somehow she found herself laughing, with a terrifying realization that she was nearing an orgasm.

- You like this, ha?

She wasn't sure why, but she nodded. And he said

- Slut!

She thought afterwards that she may have passed out from lack of air by this stage, because she saw The Face. She had almost successfully erased it from memory, after all the years emotional detachment and self preservation that The face cost her. But there it was – a blinding flash of memory: She was a girl again. The man whose name she would never mention holds her by the throat, his permanently beer – flavored spit flying as he shouts "Slut!" Then she would be quiet like a mouse, hoping to hell to pass out before the beating began. Or worse yet – the sex. The unnatural, painful and dirty act of copulation he introduced her to. Yes, this man was her first lover... if you can call it that.

No. Not today. He wasn't going to win today. She would laugh in the face of this unwanted ghost, sending him back into the realm of long-gone memories.

And laughing, she snapped back into the real world. Almost effortlessly she pushed her lover onto his back and climbed on top. She rode him hard and fast, digging her nails into his flesh. It didn't take long for both of them to explode into a wild orgasm with her screaming, laughing and crying. And him feeling grateful that they had no neighbors nearby.

Afterwards everything was quiet. She lay on the far side of the bed, shivering and listening to the blood rushing in her ear drums. She had a million sensations flowing through her.

He crawled over to her and held her, saying: "Are you ok baby? I love you! I love you so much!"

She loved him too, especially now lying in his arms, with her memories chased completely out of reach.

And as the darkness of sleep descended upon her – for the first time in years it held no ghosts.