My dreams were no longer confined to those hours of darkness where I managed to sleep. They began to haunt me in my waking hours. And they grew darker, harsher. Gone was the silent passion, the midnight rendezvous when your husband, my friend, was asleep. Gone was the willing trysts late at night.
They were replaced with thoughts of a hunger sated through coercion, through force. I sat on my couch, my eyes glazed, as the visions returned despite my best intentions. Despite my horror.
::He had left for work, leaving you and me alone in the house. We chatted as always before. Chatting about nothing of consequence. I watched you from the corner of my eye as you breathed, your chest lifting and falling. I could tell you wore nothing beneath that long t-shirt. Your nipples poking out from the thin material.
You stood, realizing the time. You mentioned something about a shower that I barely heard. I sat there as I heard the water begin to run. Images of your naked body flashed through my mind and a decision was made.
I stood, quietly stalking to the bathroom. I silently opened the door, watching you through the opaque shower curtain. You didn't notice as I quickly stripped out of my clothes and entered. I waited until your back was turned before I quietly opened the curtain enough to slide myself in.
I reached out once I was in the shower with you. My hand snaked out and wrapped around your mouth, keeping you from screaming. I turned you to face me, hand still covering your mouth. There was fear in your eyes. But there also seemed to be a flash of a hunger that matched mine. Or maybe I was deluding myself, attempting to convince myself that you desired this as much as I.
I gazed down at your lovely body, your beautiful breasts with their pink nipples, gazed down at your succulent pussy, with merely a thin strip of hair. I reached down with my free hand and slid a finger into you, the water providing the lubrication your tightness demanded. Or maybe you were wet of your own accord.
You bit into my hand, trying to get me to release my grip, but I resisted and turned you around again. I pushed you against the wall, gripping your mouth tightly to keep you silent as I slammed myself into you. I felt, more than heard, you scream into my hand. I tried to convince myself it was a scream of pleasure and not pain.
I thrust into you, forcefully, for once not caring whether or not you enjoyed it. But to my surprise, I felt you tighten around me even more, felt your body begin to spasm as an orgasm rushed through you. But it wasn't enough.