Disclaimer:
This story is true, with only minor embellishments and details added or changed to for a better reader experience, and to protect identities where necessary. These flourishes do not alter the basic structure or timelines of the events described.
You're reading this on Literotica so the usual adults-only disclaimers apply. Feel free to download and enjoy, but do not repost without proper attribution to me, the author. If you do repost, do so as-is. No changes. Don't steal my work.
This series features graphic sex between males in "bisexual" and "gay" situations; depictions of BDSM, humiliation, and reluctant/coerced acts. If these offend you, move on.
Comments and suggestions are always welcome.
=====
Chapter 1. This chapter is short, doesn't focus on sex and is mainly to begin to introduce characters and establish the power dynamics between them. The "action" will pick up in the chapters following.
=====
He'd been giving me shit all day long and my patience was wearing thin.
"I bet I could do it in... thirty minutes," he mused. "What do you think?" He asked after I didn't respond.
Smug bastard!
I remained silent, eyes on the sink, the dishes I was trying to wash and the plate I'd been scrubbing now for nearly ten minutes. I clenched my jaw in anger, refusing to take his bait.
"Maybe... twenty? I mean, did you see her last night? Of course you did. Her pussy was practically drooling down her leg." he laughed. I hated that he wasn't wrong.
"Please..." I said softly. I horrified to hear that word slip out of my mouth. Like someone else had said it. I really, really wished that were the case.
"What?"
"Please don't." I repeated, not quite believing what was happening.
"I didn't hear you," he responded. His voice had taken on a serious tone now. "Turn this way." he ordered and I reflexively obeyed.
"Please don't fuck my girlfriend." Was I begging this man, this asshole? Really? I'd tried to sound more confident and forceful. I failed.
He laughed in surprise and I could see him shift in his seat at the dining table. I kept my eyes on the floor, but his tall, muscular body was hard to ignore. His legs were spread and the exercise shorts he was wearing did nothing to hide the bulge of his sizable cock, which seemed to be growing as he regarded me in silence for a few seconds.
I felt the heated flush of shame burning across my cheeks and as disgusted and angry as I had been at Melissa for basically throwing herself at him at the party last night, my own response to his masculine bearing was even more horrifying. Or... arousing?
No, no - not that!
. I failed to push the thought from my mind, imagination instantly filling with flashed closeups of his thick cock penetrating my girlfriend's willing, wet pussy as she begged for more, moaning and-
"Beg me," he said suddenly and I nearly jumped at the edge of command in his deep voice, cutting into my thoughts.
"Wh... what?" I managed to stutter.
"I said beg me. Beg me not to fuck your slut girlfriend."
I was astounded.
Beg you not to fuck Melissa? What the fuck?
I felt anger surging through me, urging me on to fly into a violent rage, smash his arrogant face in, leave him bloody. Who did he think he was talking to? He knew though. He knew exactly what I was now.