Ay Is Forced

The man throws me to the bed and I land hard and ungracefully. I've snagged my arm of the corner of the bedside table and I feel the warm wetness of blood. He shoves me down violently when I try to get up, rips a button off my jeans and starts to manhandle them off me. I struggle. It only makes it hurt more. It feels as if he's twisting my foot off as the heavy demin catches on my foot. I try to roll over and desperately heave myself over the side of the bed. This is his opportunity. Faster than I know how, he unbuttons his cock and is on top of me. To look at him you wouldn't think he's that big, but his weight is unbearable. I can't breathe. He pins me down with his upper body while his hands fumble my tiny lacy panty aside. Then he's probing at me, huge and thrusting and painful with no lube. I bite on the sheets to stop myself screaming in pain. I can't breathe. The dry cotton of the sheets is crawling down my throat. The pain is unbearable.

He penetrates.

He thrusts with his whole body, as though doing push ups. I feel as though he's impaling me. He feels enormous from this angle, with my fanny tight around him.

I come explosively and whimper like an animal.

I stop struggling and lay complacently underneath him. Instead of stopping or slowing down he continues, harder, faster, more violently. Will it ever stop? I hear him grunting the way he grunts just before orgasm. And even though I didn't know I had it in me, I come again, drawn out and hard and rhythmic as his semen fills me.

My lover brushes a strand of hair out of my face and looks searchingly into my eyes. His lips are soft, vulnerable, slightly parted.

"You're beautiful."

I want to believe him, as every girl does.

"You're so good. You're far too good for me."

I can't believe him. But I want to.

"How did a scrawny white guy like me every get such an amazing woman, hey?"

I let his empty words hang in the air between us like the scent of sex and sweat.

His kisses are the soft, lingering kisses of teen romance movies as he kisses my doubts away. His hand caresses my body, making my nipples taut, raising gooseflesh of my abdomen, making my pussy slick. His mouth trails down my body. When he puts his lips to my crotch, I close my legs and lift his head in my hand.

"No, thanks, baby."

"What?" He sounds hurt. "Why not? I just wanna make my girl happy. Satisfy you."

"I think two orgasms are satisfying enough." I try to smile at him so that he will believe me.

He moves his hands over my body, stroking me lovingly and tenderly.

"Are you okay?"

"What? Yes. Of course. Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"You seem... Distant. Was I too rough? I thought that was kinda the point."

"No. It was... It was what I wanted."

He looks into my eyes, trying to read me. I can't hold his gaze. "You came really hard." He says with a faint smile.

I am disgusted by myself. I felt like I was being raped and my body responded to it like a sex starved slut. But then, it was my idea to try and experiment a little. I mentioned the idea in bed a few weeks ago. When Jethro came over to my flat today, he didn't even say hello, just stormed in and shoved me to the room and did this to me. It wasn't exactly what I had in mind. But I suppose the experiment had been a success in spite of myself.

"Yes. I did." I admit.

He kisses me. I can taste my fluid on his lips. He enjoys letting me taste myself. It's not a habit of his I particularly care for.

We stay in bed for the rest of the afternoon. He orders pizza from the delivery place downstairs. We kiss and touch each other, but do not have sex again. We talk about everything and nothing, the way couples can that have been together for a really long time. When he leaves late at night, I lay in bed, restless and annoyed because I have been in bed all afternoon.

I try to come to terms with myself. But fall asleep instead.