Faye burst through the door in the arms of her friend Harry, giggling and kissing as they made their way to the sofa. They'd been friends since school, and now that both had finished their studies had moved down to London to sample life in the big city. This was not their first time together - they had fucked once or twice as horny teenagers, at parties or in her parents' bedroom, and had made it a Christmas tradition when they'd both returned home, a secret only they had known, regardless of their boyfriends and girlfriends. She didn't love him, and it had somehow never spoiled their friendship.
Now they found themselves new to a strange place and had met for drinks and found each other irresistible. After her fourth glass of wine she'd laid a hand on his forearm and the deal was done, and now they were pulling desperately at each others clothes in a tipsy heap on the couch. She wore jeans, and a blue shirt, which Harry pulled over her short cropped blonde hair, savouring her kisses while her arms struggled to shake free from the fabric. His lips made her sigh and grind her panty clad snatch against his rock hard cock all the harder as she shrugged the t-shirt onto the floor. He unhooked her bra with ease and soon he was sacking on her nipples, squeezing and nuzzling her small pert tits and urging her on. His hands darted down the back of her low slung jeans to caress the tight arse within - and more: he dug deeper to find her pussy, feeling its wetness through her knickers.
They resumed their kissing, and soon she was fumbling at his zipper and panting with arousal. She pulled down his jeans and boxers as he tore off his shirt, exposing his shaft. Harry lay on his back as Faye dropped to her knees before the couch, caressing his dick with a contented sigh. It had been too long since she'd been fucked, and her needs were at their peak. She was desperate to feel a man between her thighs, to take him inside her and ride him to bliss. Harry was a good man, and their bond was too deep to be more than a fling, but his hard body and stiff cock would do for an evening. She planted kisses up and down him, noting with pleasure how his breath caught with each new sensation. Drawing her tongue out, she began to lick, slowly running the tip from base to the head as he moaned happily. Then she took it into her mouth lightly, sucking gently upon it.
Harry was in a mischievous mood however, and would not wait for her to build to a slow orgasm. He ran his fingers through her blonde hair lightly, and suddenly clenched his fist, yanking her head back sharply - Faye looked up in shock and surprise, his tool falling from her open mouth. Harry smiled, leaned down and kissed her full on her lips, wolfishly, bending over her and squeezing her breasts hard - and then brought her back down on his cock with force. She gagged at the intrusion as he began to fuck her throat with wild glee, until she accepted the cock, timing her breaths between the violating thrusts. He was being rough tonight, she thought with shame, for she knew that despite herself, her prudish and innocent demeanour, she came harder when a man had his way with her than she ever could through tenderness. It was her secret, one that her lovers came to know and her fuck-buddy took advantage of. When he wanted her, he took her, and she loved to be taken. Her pussy, already wet with excitement, was now on fire, melting and slick with juices as she revelled in being subjugated. Faye's hand began to wander - one was planted firmly on Harry's tight abdomen, steadying her as he fucked her face harder and harder - but the other began to snake its way down her own tummy, down between her thighs to the wetness she found there. She began to touch herself, letting out sweet small moans as she played with her dripping pussy.
Harry grinned in the near-dark flat as the little slut that was his friend began to finger her own pussy. He'd been gentle with her at first, tender and sensitive - and their lovemaking had been good. But one evening while very drunk indeed he'd let loose his aggression, arriving at her flat for a booty call and simply taking what he'd wanted. She met him at her door and invited him in, but no sooner had he crossed the threshold than he'd pounced, pushing her to the sofa and bending her over, lifting her dress and yanking down her panties to find her wet and ready. He'd taken advantage of her, deaf to her protests and plunging deep inside her. And yet as he worked up a rhythm, mad with passion, her protests died and she'd began to come, hard, and he knew he'd made a slave of her. He'd picked up the pace and fucked her harder, and harder, and harder still, and he'd lost count of her mewling orgasms. Eventually he'd come himself, shooting his load off deep within her, and reality came crashing back. She'd avoided him for weeks after that, dodging his calls and texts until finally she arrived at his flat, begging him to do it again.
Faye was his slut, and he liked to push her boundaries. He grinned in the near dark flat as she debased herself with her hands, and now he leaned over her on her hands and knees, reaching around to her dripping cunt to finger her himself. She moaned around his cock, which he released from her mouth, bringing with it a long line of drool as she gasped for air. Fingers still clenched in her hair, he pulled her upright as she wiped the slobber from her lips, and led her to bend over the couch. The sofa was an L-shape, and he had her knees straddle the corner so that he could bend her over fully, and stand between her thighs: her perfect arse, small and tight and nubile, jutted wantonly up in the air as she spread herself for him.
"Fuck me..." she moaned, arching her back and presenting her sopping wet cunt for him. Harry reached out and slipped two fingers into her, stroking her back and reaching around to cup her tits with his other hand. She was soaking wet, and gagging for a cock, and she repeated her pleas for him, knowing it turned him on to see her so feverish for a fuck. "Please...I'm ready...fuck me..." she looked over her shoulder at him, her bright blue eyes begging him for release.
Harry would not be bought so easily. He lined his long shaft against her lips, and began to trace the head up and down her slit, coating it in her juices. She moaned like a whore and tried to buck back and take him in but he held her firmly.
"You slut..." he said menacingly, easing the head up and down. "You love it don't you?" she moaned at the verbal abuse but said nothing until he pressed the tip against her clit.
"Ohhhhh I'm a slut!" she cried as he tortured her with his cock. "Fuck your slut! Fuck me!"
Smiling broadly, he plunged into her, balls deep and filling her. She screamed in pleasure and discomfort both as he pinned her down on the sofa and withdrew. "Slut," he grinned down at her as she looked up at him through heavy lidded eyes, before ramming it in all the way again to make her wince in pain and bite the pillows of the sofa. He began to pick up a rhythm, savouring the feel of her slick wet tunnel as he dominated her. Harry was soon rewarded for his efforts as Faye began to tremble and shake, her pussy squeezing his cock hard inside her.
"Ohhhhfuck I'm coming!" she cried in excitement, her fingers gripping the cushions of the sofa tight as she shuddered out a hard orgasm. Harry ceased his assault for a moment for her to ride it out before continuing, quickening the pace to go even harder at it. She was wailing continuously now, giving herself over completely, animal noises and slutty talk while he made her his willing whore.
Movement caught his eye however - from the corner of the room, a figure emerged. Kevin, one of his housemates, slinking out of the bedroom in his boxers. Harry paused, and Faye began to buck and come once more, oblivious to the reason he'd stopped fucking. Kevin stood silently, meeting Harry's eyes, and for a heartbeat they communicated silently with a look.
Kevin viewed the conquest his friend had brought home, his fuck-buddy who he'd talked up during their nights together. She was game, he'd said, she'd do anything for me, she was a slut. He'd met her a few times and been gentlemanly, but he'd made no secret that he wanted her. She was pretty and petite, with blue eyes and blonde hair, but she had an innocence about her and a tomboyish manner which belied the filthy stories Harry had told them about how she liked to be taken hard and rough, how he came on her and made her do things that made her blush in shame the next morning. Now she was on their sofa, naked and getting a good fuck, and he was hard.
