I was friends with Mark since we were 14. We were never really that close. We would rarely speak in school, because I'd hang out with more popular kids. We'd study together sometimes since he was smart, or we'd talk, but always about my problems, never about his. At times I would go weeks without acknowledging his existence then when a big exam was coming up I would pretend we were besties.
I used him for 4 years like that, and he never seemed to mind. Maybe he knew. Maybe he knew he'll get back at me someday. Turn the tables on me and start controlling me like I controlled him all those years. For 4 years, I was the one who decided when we would meet and what we would do. That has changed. I've become his toy he could play with and explore each week, and I could do nothing about it.
It was bad as it is. The fact that I had a boyfriend made it worse. The fact that I loved my boyfriend made it hell. I lied to Kyle all the time. He thought Mark had been prepping me for a math exam, that's why the regular meetings at his place. He never suspected a thing.
***
"We need to talk," I said.
"I'm listening," Mark replied with patience in his voice.
"We have to cancel tomorrow. I can't go to your place again."
"Listen. If it's about what happened... it won't happen again. I swear."
"Look, you're clearly skilled at massaging," I reasoned. "You don't need more practice."
"Just come watch Netflix then," he pleaded. "Please. I don't want to lose you as a friend. I won't touch you again if you don't like it."
Mark seemed genuinely concerned that this thing between us could end our friendship once and for all. I've never seen so much sadness in his eyes. I wanted our meetings to end, but I couldn't find strength to break his heart. I took pity on him.
"Okay, I'll come. But no touching."
It was foolproof. If I don't get naked, he can't start touching me in inappropriate places and I won't lose control over my body. Keeping him as a friend also meant keeping him quiet. The last thing I would've needed is for him to start telling people how he fingered me to orgasm that one time.
So next day came, and I was there, lying on his bed, watching Netflix. It was so long ago we did this last that by now I completely lost track of the events of the show we were watching. Because my mind was still occupied by the thoughts of all the things we did in this bed, my boobs getting played with, my face being shoved into his crotch, feeling the outlines of his thick cock through his shorts, his finger rubbing my clit... I just couldn't concentrate enough to make sense of what was happening on the TV screen.
This was worse than being used by his soft, yet strong hands. I was reliving every moment of it, except for the pleasure part. I needed a distraction. Netflix wasn't good enough. I needed something. Something small to keep me away from my thoughts.
"Could you massage my foot, please?" I asked him. "It hurts from all the running in gym class."
"It's hard to massage you, if I'm not allowed to touch you."
"Alright. You can touch me. Just not there."
"Not where?"
"You know where."
"You have to be specific."
"Not my pussy."
I hated that he made me say it. Said out loud, it made me realize once again that he has not only seen the most intimate part of my body up close, but touched it, running his hand all over it until he made me come.
"Okay," he said. "I won't have my hands near it. Anyway, it was you who asked for it last time."
He was right. I gave him permission. I consented to my own rape. Not this time though. I was smarter this time. My clothes were staying on. I only took off my socks so he could work my feet. The white top and the denim shorts I was wearing remained on, protecting me in case his hands started to wander.
Once I was sock-free, I lay back down on my stomach. He sat down behind me, took my feet, placed them in his lap, and started massaging them with oil. He was really talented at this. It didn't take too long before I could relax myself. Finally, I could focus on the pleasure of a massage while it was anything but sexual. Just an innocent foot rub.
Then, after a few minutes passed, I suddenly felt a hard surface growing in his lap where my feet rested. I could tell he was getting aroused. That pervert was already thinking about the way he will seduce me. And he wanted me to know it. He was so cocky he thought he could manipulate me despite making no efforts to hide his intentions. I was boiling with anger, but I did nothing. As long as he was poking at my feet with his cock and not my face, I was fine with it.
Soon, however, the hardness began to take shape. I could feel his shaft with my feet through the gym shorts he was wearing. To my surprise, it just kept getting bigger. I noticed last time that he had a really thick cock, but I couldn't feel the entire length of it. Now I could. He was hung. I was pretty sure he was bigger than Kyle. Or any other sex partner I had before him.
I started getting unmanageably wet thinking about Mark's size. I realized I wasn't wearing disposable panties this time, but my own. I was hoping my wetness wouldn't soak through my shorts, but I could feel it getting messier in there. I also noticed that, while trying to scan his size with my feet, I unwittingly started moving them around in his lap, stroking his large cock through his shorts. I felt a throb as a wave of blood rushed into his penis.
"Mmm," I let out a moan as he hit a good spot on my sole with his fingers.
"Maybe you should change," he remarked.
Alarmed, I lifted my head and grabbed my crotch area only to notice my shorts had finally given up the battle of absorbing my juices and just let everything through. I sat up and before I could say anything he already went to get the disposable panties.
"I'll keep my promise," he said as he handed me the thong. "No hands near it."
He said in it such a calm and friendly tone that he sounded extremely believable. So I reluctantly went and changed, but this time, leaving my top and my bra on. Just to be safe.
"Lie down on your backside," he said. "I'll massage your legs, too. They must be in real pain."
I nodded and obeyed, even though my legs were fine. I was confident I could handle it. I knew I might get even more aroused, but I thought I could stick it out. I thought I could just make myself come once the massage was over and I was away from Mark. So I let him spread my legs and start massaging them while he was positioned in-between.
He took his time, inching upwards really slowly. Time and time again he would accidently press his bulge against my skin as he shifted positions. At least I could justify them as being accidental. But I would bite down on my lips each time, drawing a small amount of blood after a while.
After minutes of massage, he reached my thighs. I was frequently moaning by now. He inched his way up my inner thighs, getting as close as he could to my pussy without touching it. At this point, I wanted him to touch me there, just so he'd break his promise and finally I could hold him accountable. Finally I could have a reason to end this.
But he didn't make a mistake. Instead, he wanted me to make one. He wanted to make me say it, like last time. To give consent so I couldn't blame him. I hated how cunning he was. He was trying to starve me, just enough that I would allow him to touch me there.
I expected this, so I practiced self-restraint. Neither of us made a move and after a while he suddenly stopped working on my thighs. Instead, he lifted my legs up and pulled me closer to him. Our genitals were now within inches of each other. He lifted my top up to uncover my belly and started applying oil there.
This was more than a leg massage, but as long as he wasn't touching me in inappropriate places, I was gonna let him do it. As he was rubbing oil on my belly, however, the accidental penis touching was now aimed at my crotch instead of my legs. From time to time his penis would brush over my pussy very gently, and each touch would make me moan softly. My mind was getting clouded with pleasure.
"You should take off your bra" he said. "We talked about your regular massage."
In a trance now, I unwittingly nodded without paying attention to the meaning of the words he uttered. A second later he already had a hand under my back to unhook my bra. Then he just lifted it together with my top, making my boobs pop out from their cover. He didn't waste a second and as soon as they were free, he started caressing my tits with his hands.
I wanted to protest, but as his oil covered hands glided all over my boobs, brushing over my fully erect nipples, I could only let out more moans. To worsen things, while he was feeling my breasts up, he now pressed his bulge into my crotch more aggressively. I could feel his throbbing penis rest against my vulva, with each throb sending a wave of pleasure through my body.