A Nic in Time

Celeste had made her way to the bus stop after a late night at work. Exhausted, she put her headphones on and pressed 'play' on her device. Her phone immediately blasted the music, not from the headphones, but from the speakers itself.

"Oops- sorry!" She exclaimed to the man standing beside her, scrambling to press 'pause'.

He chuckled, "I love that song, don't worry."

"You do?" She laughed nervously. "She's kind of my guilty pleasure."

"Because her stuff is folky or because it's depressing?"

Celeste paused.

"Because of the religious overtones, I'd say."

The man chuckled again, "I can understand that."

The sound of cicadas chirping folded over the two like a blanket. Celeste correctly connected her headphones, but left them ajar on her head, in case the man chose to speak to her again. She peered at him peripherally. He was large and tall. His brown skin looked orange under the street light. His face was handsome, as far as she could tell. His expression appeared stoic, besides when he had smiled at her just moments before. Still tender from her most recent heartbreak, Celeste felt a bit of an impulse to speak to the man again. But what to say?

"If you like Sill, maybe you'd like Cotten," Celeste blurted out, immediately regretting breaking the silence.

The man smiled down at her. "I don't think I've heard of Cotten. Why don't you play me something of theirs?" He suggested politely.

Red in the face, Celeste unsynced her headphones and played a song aloud for the two at the bus stop to sway to. Nearing its end, the bus pulled up, and the two gathered themselves up to board. Celeste boarded first, and sat near the back of the bus. The man followed her there, choosing to sit in the row in front of her, despite the bus being rather empty. Besides Celeste and the man, there was an elderly woman eyeing them near the front, gripping her crucifix as if it were her seatbelt.

He turned around, with his hand out, "I'm Nick, by the way."

She shook it. "I'm Celeste. Nice to meet you." Did he notice her blush under the fluorescent lights?

"How do you normally spend your bus rides?" She asked him.

He smiled again, "I actually enjoy watching videos of this guy talk about chess... would that be your thing?"

"I don't know how to play chess, so something like that may just go right over my head."

"I will say, the dude is entertaining in his own right. He's a chess teacher and the videos are shot as he's giving a class. I live for the moments where he insults his students."

"Okay, I'm game," Celeste said.

Nick pulled out his phone and his earbuds to share, and Celeste watched the chess video with him over his shoulder. It felt strangely intimate. She crossed her legs so he wouldn't smell her wetness.

When the video ended, they got to talking. Nick and his roommate were construction workers, he told her. That meant long days in the blazing sun with little pay and even less time off to meet anyone special. He trailed off.

"My stop is coming up soon. I know this is kind of sudden, but would you want to get off with me? I have some drinks back at my place and we could continue this conversation." Nick suggested.

Celeste was taken aback. She was hoping for a phone number out of this, not an invitation to his house. Aroused by his spontaneity, she agreed.

His apartment was only a couple blocks from the bus stop. It was incredibly tiny and dilapidated, which seemed ironic judging by his line of work.

"You want some tequila?" Nick asked.

"Sure... just a little," Celeste said. She had never tried tequila before, but she soon found herself on her fourth shot. They had been small-talking about TV shows up to that point, getting comfortable sharing the space with one another.

"So what do your parents do?" He asked.

"Well, my mom doesn't work, and my dad is a pastor," she responded.

Abruptly, he said, "Want to go take a shower?"

"Yeah."

She didn't know what had come upon her to respond that way. She just knew that she was attracted to him, and the night was young. She wanted to feel dirty.

He led her to the first door on the left of his short hallway, into a room so small they were almost chest-to-chest with the door closed behind them. He immediately started ripping his clothes off. Shirt first, revealing his built chest. There was a dog tag around his neck that he left on. Then he turned around to take his pants off. He turned back around for her to bask in his thick, semi-hard penis.

"What are you waiting for?" He teased, entering the shower.

She hurried to undress herself, top off first and then bottoms like he demonstrated. The showerhead was too low for his large body, so he bent over a little to rinse his head. She slid her small frame underneath the half-bridge he was making with his body. Large droplets fell from his head onto hers in uneven spatters.

He bent even lower to then envelop her in a kiss. Many kisses. They kissed each other hard under the screeching showerhead for a scant amount of time before he pushed her down by the shoulders toward his fully erect cock. There was an awkward adjustment with the limited space they had, but she eventually made it to her knees and pleasured him to his liking. The water fell onto her face, making it difficult to breathe through her nostrils as she engulfed his mass in her small mouth. He jerked his pelvis back and forth, gagging her with each thrust. She worked her head faster and with more esteem in an effort to expedite the process.

"Slow down," he said. He leaned his back against the wall to give her space to stand up again. They filed out of the tiled cubicle and shared a towel. She got the towel first, being the lady, and handed it over to him.

As soon as they were dry, he reached between her legs and found her hole to finger her. Without any warning, he hoisted her into the air by her pussy and carried her into the bedroom just across the hallway. They entered through the doorway as a single unit and he immediately turned around and pushed her back against the wall. Still holding her by her ass with his finger up her cunt, he leaned in for another kiss. They tongued each others' mouths feverishly. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he slammed her down onto the bed.

"You still want to do this?" He asked.

"Yeah." She said. Her heart palpitated. This was her first time fucking a stranger, and although she was slightly terrified, that fear excited her. She felt the thrill of not knowing the person who would attend to her in such an intimate way.

He reached into his drawer for a condom, and directed her to put it on for him. Celeste rolled off of her back as Nick lay down on the bed. She drunkenly fumbled with it, but managed to roll it down to the base of his shaft.

She slowly lowered herself onto his cock, and he put pressure on her hips to bring her down to his base. She felt him fill her hole and rolled her eyes back in pleasure. They began fucking, slowly at first only to get properly adjusted. In a beat they had found their rhythm. He kissed aggressively, biting at her lower lip so frequently that it began to bruise. She wanted to cry out, but thought that would make her a pussy. He kissed down her neck onto her chest and paused at her left nipple, gnawing at it until it, too, bruised.

"No hickies," she told him, too late.

"Why, you got a boyfriend?" He growled. She could not tell if he was angry or turned on by the idea.

"No," she said, quickly dismissing the aching for her ex.

They continued fucking like that, Nick holding her hips as Celeste rocked on his hard cock. Celeste slowly realized she was not enjoying herself anymore, but did not say anything. She thought the feeling of discomfort might pass, perhaps.

She then began to lose sense of herself. She had lost track of how much time had passed, and didn't think to check the clock on the bed nightstand. She couldn't think at all. She just continued to ride his dick with his large hands guiding her, feeling the pain on her lip, on her breast, in her loins.

"You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?" He murmured, lifting her up and down his shaft with ease. Her thighs were close to giving out. He either sensed this or Celeste just got lucky, but he turned her over onto her back. She couldn't move. Her pussy ached as he continued to slam into her, only gaining momentum.

"I could go all night," he murmured.

She feared he had taken a pill, that he really could go all night. Her face did not betray this fear, though. To Nick, Celeste's face looked blank. She stared at what was happening to her, saying nothing of her discomfort or of wanting him to stop. How could she? Celeste had always been revered for being obedient, polite, palatable. This strange man wanted to masturbate into her body, and her body was literally unable to deny him that pleasure. Why she wouldn't speak, she did not know. But as someone who expertly performed femininity all her life, it was not difficult for her to assume the role of a breathing sex doll for the night.

He fucked her like that for what felt to Celeste like forever. He repeatedly called her his "pretty little thing," and she continuously remained silent. Her pussy was wet enough that it did not feel like he was ripping her open, but he was thrusting so violently into her that she could receive no pleasure from any of it. He gripped at her neck from above, and she looked into his eyes and only saw black. He was not looking back at her, he was looking through her, eyes filled with hatefulness. It was then she realized what she was feeling was true genuine terror.

He turned her around onto all fours, grabbing at her curly pixie by the roots. This jerked her head back, so she was looking at the ceiling. Her neck was pulled as far back as it would go. She focused on trying to derive pleasure from the position she was in. She had barely watched porn before, but she knew that a girl with an arched back, a shaved pussy, hair pulled by the man ramming into her from behind, was sexy. The pain on her scalp, that was sexy. Her aching pussy was sexy. She moaned at this revelation.

Finally, she snapped out of her silence.

"I- I need a break," she said.

"Okay," he grunted, but he did not stop. He slowly loosened his grip on her hair, and slowed the pace of his thrusts. After a while of this, he finally exited her body and let her go. She rolled onto the bed, belly up.

"Did you cum?" He asked.

"Yes," She lied.

His manner was restless. He seemed eager to take to it again, unsure of what to do with his hands now.

"Want to smoke?" He suggested, reaching for a joint on the bed nightstand. The clock read 2:37.

"No, thank you," She said.

She watched him take a long drag, and it looked delicious. She changed her mind and took a small puff. In the back of her head, she knew it was a bad idea, just like following him home was a bad idea.

He laid next to her in bed. He asked her questions about herself. She responded. He would not shut up.

He's lonely, she realized.

She tensed when he brought his brawny arm over her, trying to cuddle. They laid like that, Nick holding onto Celeste's waist tight, breathing into her hair. She could not relax. She stared at the clock, afraid to tell him she wanted to leave. What if he had a temper? She could not tell if she was in shock or just properly crossed. She could not tell if she just got raped or just had straight sex. After all, they were going through all the correct motions. She didn't say no. He didn't realize she stopped enjoying herself so early on, how could she call him a rapist? He was only a man, trying to perform sex well for the first woman he's had in months. She was the whore who wanted to get fucked so badly that night.

She sighed into his pillow and waited the night out.