It was still dark when I woke up some time before dawn. The room was much colder now; he'd rolled off me at some point during the night, left me naked and spread on top of musty quilts and pillows. His heavy arm, flung possessively across my chest, was the only thing that kept me from feeling like a discarded toy. The edges of his huge, powerful form were accentuated by the glow of the dull, golden light from the hallway; for a time I just watched it rise and fall with his snores, a sleeping mountain range.
It was a strange feeling, knowing this man had shoved his dick into my body only hours before...knowing I'd somehow opened myself to it, endured it, and had ultimately liked it...loved it, even...and now he was sleeping on his stomach next to me, snoring softly into the pillows with his bare ass exposed, as vulnerable as he'd ever be.
What if I'd turned out to be a psychopath? What if I ended up doing something desperate to keep him from coercing me into any more brutal sex acts? I wouldn't, of course, didn't have it in me, but I was almost impressed by the sheer, irrational confidence of him...
Well, he is a cop.
My belly and chest and crotch were absolutely covered in dried cum, matting and tangling my body hair, tugging at my skin at the slightest shifting movement. My deflowered asshole was swollen, cored out, aching in the sharpest, deepest way imaginable, yet still feeling numb. I'd never given much thought to that part of myself before, but now I was aware of every fold of every wrinkle, felt the pang of every wounded twitch. It was strangely...pleasant. Like a concentrated post-workout buzz. I could also feel the viscous wetness of lube and cum coating the inside of each butt cheek, gumming up the rim of my asshole, and that wasn't quite as nice. I knew it was only a fraction of what he'd so thoroughly fucked into me, soaking into every nook and cranny of my bowels even now; two loads of a grown man's jism, deposited directly into my deepest self, as a bull would impregnate a heifer...
I had no idea how to feel about that. He'd never said anything about going bareback, much less cumming inside me...but it was already done, and I wasn't about to tell him to wear a condom next time.
Next time...
I gulped, suddenly nauseous. I slowly, carefully lifted his arm off my chest. It was heavier than I thought it'd be, but he was sleeping like a log...or rather, a dangerous, hibernating bear that would attack and devour me if I accidentally woke it from its slumber.
I got off the bed, wincing at the low creak of the mattress springs. Whether it was the creeping cold or my own shameful sense of vulnerability, I didn't want to be naked any longer.
My first thought was to find my boxers, until I remembered I hadn't brought any per his orders. My dress shirt was in tatters, a crumpled lump of cloth in the corner of the room, but I slipped it on anyway. Most of the buttons were gone, but there were enough to close it over my stomach at least. The torn collar hung wide open on either side of my chest, letting the cold air wash over my nipples as the loose fabric grazed them, both nubs instantly sharp and tingling down into my groin...
I refused to think about his mouth, but it didn't help. Wearing the ruined shirt made me feel even more awkward than simply being naked, because it made me think about sex. I'd never been the object of desire before, never had to think about how enticing my body might look to someone with such total power over me. The torn shirt hung off my shoulders in such a uselessly perverse way, all the most important bits still very much accessible, making me feel like a freshly ravaged virgin. If I was going to crawl back into bed with that man and try to get more sleep -- and I knew I'd need it -- I wanted my ass covered first.
His jeans were still in a pile at the foot of the bed, as well as the pair of black boxers trapped within them. I carefully lifted the entire mound of jeans and boxers and belt, careful not to make a sound. I left the bedroom, bare feet stepping softly down the hallway, until I was back in the well-lit living room at the other end of the house.
I sat on the cold leather sofa and slipped his boxers from the jeans, the giant belt buckle clinking softly as I did. I felt like a thief, taking his property without asking -- but it was his fault I didn't have anything to wear, wasn't it? Besides, there had been real affection in his handling of me the night before, despite all the frightening roughness of the ordeal. Surely he wouldn't mind if I wore his boxers to keep warm, and dirty boxers at that. I smelled them, trying to guess how dirty they might be, and was immediately overwhelmed by the sheer musk of his scent -- enough to make me lightheaded for a moment. Enough to turn me on, to make my belly ache for his touch...
I ignored my sudden arousal and pulled the boxers over my naked hips, glad to find they fit well enough. The thought of his dried sweat and precum rubbing against my skin was both disgusting and enticing, which made it...hot? Why was it hot? Why did I love his filthy smell so much? Why was I enjoying anything about this experience? A week ago I'd imagined I was marching into some hidden layer of hell (and in some ways it was), but now I was finding there were many confusing layers to it, that was only purely horrific on paper...he'd made me come, after all, like I'd never come before. Twice.
I shook my head. More than anything, I just wanted a shower...but that was going a step too far I felt, and the noise would likely wake him. From what little I knew of him, he would use it as an excuse to force me into another bout of fucking, and I didn't think I could handle more of that treatment yet.
I noticed the frayed black corner of his wallet protruding from the pocket of his jeans. I paused, listening closely to the sounds of the house. The wind was groaning lowly against the side of the house, dead branches shifting and sighing out in the darkness. I could just hear him snoring down the hall, still fast asleep.
I took the wallet, letting my curiosity overwhelm my sense of self-preservation. It was small and black and ordinary. I opened it. There was his driver's license, denoting his status as a cop - and not just any cop. He was the goddamn chief of police; the biggest cop in Meter PD, just like he'd said. Chief Pruitt. That was his name. His face was handsome in the photo, younger, but very stern. No emotion, really -- just a direct glare above the straight, grim line of his lips. No hint of the sadistic sexual predator I knew him to be, or anything but calm, civic-minded authority.
I rummaged some more, opened the wallet right up. As I'd guessed, he was old enough to have actual, physical photos inside - more than one of a single woman. His wife? She was beautiful, blue-eyed, blonde, and proper, but the photo was old. Must have been taken in the nineties, judging by the quality and the fashion sense, along with some photos of a young black-haired, blue-eyed boy with a hesitant smile...so he had a son. A son with black hair, blue eyes, and pale skin. A son that was likely around my own age by now...
I didn't like where those thoughts were taking me. Not one bit.
I closed the wallet and pushed it back into the jeans. I didn't want to think about the raging erection that had suddenly filled up the boxers I was wearing, or how shallow my breathing had become, so I didn't.
I crept back down the hallway, slow and careful. Listening. The pitch black door of the bedroom yawned like the hungry maw of some cosmic beast, drawing me back into its gullet with its undeniable siren's call. He was sleeping where I'd left him, still snoring softly. I set his jeans down at the foot of the bed and slowly crawled back into it, blood pumping in my ears, doing everything I could not to wake him. He kept snoring.
I turned onto my side, facing away from him, wrapping the shirt around my chest as I crossed my arms. I was still cold, but I didn't dare lift the quilt we were lying on top of. The wind began to howl outside, making me feel even colder. I should've remembered to find my socks before getting back into bed...
