The Last Piece of Ass

CAUTION: If you are used to my stories of affectionate, mutually enjoyable sex among men and women, this is nothing like them. This story is about rape and retribution.

*

One autumn evening, Keith drove his father's Cadillac slowly through the part of the college town that was known as Sorority Row. He considered all college girls to be sluts, because, if they weren't, they'd stay at home and get married and raise children like they were meant to do. He actually had no objection to their supposed sluttiness; in fact he was looking for one of them so he could pick her up and take advantage of it.

"This is the best place to look for a piece of ass," he told himself. "When these chicks see me and this great car, they'll all want to hop in here and fuck. I'm glad Dad finally broke down and bought it. I'm pretty sure I can get it home before he misses it."

He patrolled slowly down the street, looking for a woman walking alone. Although he thought a threesome would have been fun, and one day he might try it, he didn't have that much time. He was going to have to settle for picking up a girl, throwing a quick fuck into her, dumping her, then getting back home. Finally, Keith saw just the one he wanted. In the light of the full moon and the streetlights, he could see she was short and slender, with long blonde hair and that she was wearing a sweater and short skirt. Best of all, she was walking by herself. He pulled over next to her.

"Hi. Ya want a ride?" A young, pretty face leaned in through the window and smiled at him. She seemed vaguely familiar, but Keith figured it was just that all these sluts looked the same.

"I'm just going to the drug store on the next block."

"Why walk when you can ride in this nice car? My name is Mark, by the way, and I'm a junior at the U." That was two lies. Keith had barely made it through high school and had no intention of ever even trying to get into college.

The door swung open. She entered and buckled her seat belt the way it had been impressed on her to always do. "My name is Angela and I'm a freshman. You seem like a nice guy, Mark. Everybody I've met here at the U. seems nice."

"I know, and I'm, one of the nicest."

There was a nebulous, déjà vu kind of thought, nagging at the back of his mind that he had seen Angela somewhere but he couldn't remember where. He had picked up girls around here before but she couldn't have been one of them if she was just a freshman. He put the thought out of his mind. Tonight, he and Angela were going to go to a place he knew about and tear off a piece of ass, and he didn't have any reason to think about other girls just then.

Down the street he drove, picking up speed as he passed the drug store and timing the traffic light so he caught it while it was still green. "Mark?" Angela asked, pulling at his sleeve.

"I'll bring you back to the store later. Don't you want to have some fun first?"

"No. Please stop and let me out. Mark? Please stop."

Keith smiled at her protests. Of course she wanted to have some fun. They all did. She just had to pretend otherwise so she could keep on claiming to be a "good girl". He knew just the place to go, a parking lot behind an old bakery that was going to be torn down soon. It was his favorite make-out place, almost entirely fenced in, with one side looking out over a river so they could have privacy for what they were going to do. There were no stop signs or traffic lights along the way so he could drive there at a good speed, just in case she decided to try to jump out of the car.

"Please, Mark. Please take me back. Or just let me out and I'll walk back. Please?" Keith was getting a bit annoyed. She was really overdoing it with all the pretending to object, as if she wasn't itching to get fucked just as much as he was itching to fuck her.

When he pulled into the parking lot, he expertly slid to a stop with the passenger door just a foot from a brick wall. Being careful to look out for Angela's welfare, Keith didn't want her to jump out, pretending to run away, and trip over some of the junk in the lot. He wondered if she appreciated how concerned he was with her safety.

She certainly didn't act like it. Angela was huddled in the corner, pretending to cry, as if she had changed her mind and didn't want to make out like she had said she would. Well, that, he decided, was just too bad; he would see to it that she kept the promise she had made to him by getting into his car. He would use what he called his "Caveman Technique", and it would end up being just as much fun for her as it was for him. A year or so ago, it had worked quite well with another blonde girl, as Keith remembered quite fondly.

The back seat was the best place for making out so Keith got out, opened the rear door and reached back in to the front seat to grab his seemingly reluctant partner by her arm. She clung to the door handle next to her, as if she didn't want to get in the back seat with him. He was big and strong and her supposed resistance was no match for him. Reaching in with his other arm also, Keith grabbed her forearm with both hands and pulled her toward the open door.

Angela bumped into the steering wheel and screamed, as if from pain, when he yanked her out of the front seat. It sounded as if she might have been hurt. Keith hoped not, but didn't really care. "If she is hurt, it's her own damn fault for pretending she didn't want to get into the back of the car with me," he reasoned.

She struggled with him, almost as if she meant it, but to no avail. Keith shut the front door, shoved Angela into the back seat and followed her in. When they were both inside, he closed and locked the door. "The back seat of this car is a great place for making out," he told himself. "I sure wish she'd quit pretending she doesn't want it as much as I do, though."

"Please, Mark, don't hurt me. Please, just let me go and I won't even tell anybody." Angela pressed herself against the other back door, her arms hugging herself protectively but ineffectively.

Keith knew good and well what she really wanted so he continued ignoring her pleading. He pulled down his pants and underwear, freeing his cock, which was small but already erect. Always concerned for the safety and well-being of his sex partners, he took the condom out of his pocket, removed it from the foil wrapper and rolled it onto his cock. He used the lubricated kind because sometimes the girls he brought here were kind of frigid and not wet enough when it was time to fuck, so he helped them that way too.

By the moonlight pouring in through the rear window, Angela could see what he had just done. "No!" she cried out. "Please! I don't want to do that! I've never done that!"

Remaining faithful to his caveman technique, which he had found to be always successful, Keith ignored her pleas and moved across the seat to grab her left leg, pull it onto the cushion, and drag her to him. Using his thigh to pin that leg against the back of the seat, he reached under her short skirt with both hands and pushed it up and out of the way. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her flimsy panties, reached inside and tore them open. Angela's pussy was ready for fucking, even though she was still pretending she didn't want to do it.

Her pretending even went so far as to hit him with her fist. She was just a small girl and not much at fighting, especially in the close quarters of the back seat. Her punch bounced harmlessly off his chest. Nevertheless, Keith got seriously annoyed that she would attack him like that for no reason at all. He doubled up his own fist and hit her back, many times harder than she had struck him, slugging her on the side of her head and knocking her back against the door handle. Angela started crying harder then, although he didn't think she was really hurt. At least she stopped pretending to fight with him, proving once again how effective the Caveman Technique could be with a girl who insisted on acting like she didn't want to fuck, even though she had said she would.

She continued to put on a good act, and he might have believed she really was crying if he didn't know better. He covered her unresisting body, his cock seeking her cunt. Keith found it but she seemed tight for being such a slut. For additional lubrication, he spat on his fingers and rubbed the wetness on the inside of her pussy lips. Still holding them apart with the fingers of one hand and guiding himself with the other hand, he got the tip of his cock at the entrance to her vagina.

"No, Mark! Please don't!" she screamed. He just laughed at the way she refused to give up the pretense.

Keith gave a strong push and wedged his cock into her. He was even more surprised at how tight she was and there seemed to be some kind of obstruction. Angela screamed with pleasure as he gave a stronger shove and his cock broke through and penetrated deeper into her pussy. He was sure it was from pleasure because he knew how much she liked to fuck and he could feel wetness surrounding his cock as he sawed it in and out of her.

"What a phony," he said to himself. Pretending she doesn't want to get it on when she is all wet like this. She's lucky I'm too smart to let her fool me."

Keith rapidly thrust his cock in and out of the young woman's unresponsive pussy for a few minutes until, with a grunt of satisfaction, he ejaculated into his condom. "That was great for me. How was it for you?" he asked her, but Angela didn't answer except for still pretending to cry.

Keith opened the door, got out and peeled off the contraceptive to toss it away on the asphalt. After straightening his clothing, he got back into the front seat and, just as he had promised he would, started driving back toward the drug store that Angela had told him was her destination. She remained huddled against the door in the back seat but at least she wasn't faking crying anymore.

A half block from the store, as he stopped at the traffic light, he heard the back door open. He looked back just in time to see Angela stumble out of the car and stagger to the curb. She seemed to be trying to run, but she was having a lot of difficulty. "I hope she didn't hurt herself jumping out," Keith told himself, not really caring very much. After getting out and closing the back door, he got back in, expecting to drive straight home, until he spotted her purse in the front seat.

"That little minx!" he said out loud, smiling. "She must have really liked the way I fucked her, and left her purse so I would take it to her and make another date for some more action. Well, why not? She's pretty, and seemed to be hot for me. She was certainly wet enough when she finally quit pretending and we started fucking. With a little more experience, she might be a really good piece of ass." Keith pulled over to the curb and turned on the interior lights so he could find her address or phone number.

As expected, the purse contained a wallet and inside there was Angela's student ID card. Just as she had said, she was a freshman. A driver's license gave her full name and her address but it was at the edge of town, nowhere near the university. "I guess she's from town but stays in the dorm because it's closer to the school," he mused. "Probably dykes it up with the other girls there all the time. That's okay; she likes to fuck men too. At least, she sure liked fucking me." Out of curiosity, he checked her birth date and saw she had turned 19 two months ago, older than most freshmen. Keith decided to drive to the address on the driver's license and find out Angela's dorm address and phone number so he could contact her and arrange to get together for some more fun, maybe on Friday night. He thought he could probably still get home before the car was missed.

The house was small and rundown, in a rundown neighborhood. No porch lights on any of the houses were lit and Keith had to walk up to several doors before he found the right address. The doorbell didn't seem to work so he knocked on the door and waited, feeling apprehensive, but thinking about the good time he had just had with Angela and the better times they would have in the future.

Finally, the porch light came on; the door opened a crack and a hoarse voice inquired of him: "Yes? Who is it?"

"You don't know me but I had a date tonight with Angela. She left her purse in my car and I want to take it back to her but I don't know where she's staying at the University."

"You had a date with Angela?" The door opened wider and Keith saw a gray-haired woman. She was small, seeming to be shriveled up and her eyes were red as if she had been crying. Her left hand was holding the door open and her other hand was out of sight beside the doorway.

"Yes. With Angela. Is she your daughter?"

"Yes. She was."

"Was?"

"My daughter is dead. She was a virgin but she was raped a year ago tonight, and she killed herself out of shame. And you did it!" The old woman's right hand suddenly appeared, holding a pistol aimed at Keith's chest. That was the last thing he ever saw. The last thing he ever heard was the gun discharging and the last thing he ever felt was the bullet tearing through his heart.

*

Thank you for reading this story. I certainly hope you had a better time than any of the characters did. I wrote this especially for the Halloween contest and I would really appreciate your voting a high score for me if you enjoyed reading it. I also like getting feedback from readers, either public comments or email sent to me. Such feedback helps me write more and better stories and I always answer them when I can.