Round Two 11

I woke up to the smell of man. Or maybe the smell wasn't what woke me up. Before I opened my eyes the partying of the previous night came back to me. I had been out at a party, which wasn't unusual for me on a Saturday night. It had started out as a tight-knit group, but then friends of friends had shown up, and then their friends. My girls and I had been eyeing all the cute older guys who had shown up, who were maybe seniors at our college or the one across the river. When the beer ran out me and two other junior girls had ended up following three of these guys to an after party. We had indulged more than a little in the vodka they had offered and danced sluttily to some old pop music. I went back to one of the guys' dorm rooms, what was his name, Christopher? He was cute, I remembered, tall with curly blonde hair, maybe a biology major?

I registered the sound of decidedly male breathing, and felt it tickle the small hairs near my ear. My hangover was minor but made itself known in my aching body. My stomach rumbled at me desolately, mad at me for all of the vodka. I needed breakfast, and to do that I needed to put clothes on and figure out which dorm I was in. I inhaled, preparing to open my eyes and crawl off the mattress, when I felt his hands on me. Christopher and I were laying very close, squished into a twin dorm bed. I could feel his body meet mine at almost every point along the line of my back. I could even feel his chest hair against my shoulder blades. Still, I was surprised to feel one of his hands reach around and cup my breast. I stopped breathing briefly, my plan of rolling out of the bed stymied. When I sucked in air again, I did it slowly, like I was still sleeping. I wanted him to let go of me and I figured that showing that I was awake would encourage him to go for 'round two.'

The hand felt cold and large on my bare breast. The temperature difference woke up my nipple and hardened it beneath his rough palm. He started moving his hand in circles so that my nipple rolled around underneath it. I made a small sleepy breath-noise, hoping that would give him the message that he wasn't waking me, and cause him to give up. Seemingly in response, his own breath became more ragged, more urgent in my ear. He pressed his body harder against mine, using our new proximity to move his other hand onto my right breast. I could feel his hardness against the back of my upper thigh. His fingers found my nipples and squeezed, making them swell more with blood and arousal. While my body was aroused, my brain was not. I was starting to get annoyed. I remained limp, with my eyes closed, trying to seem as discouragingly passed-out as possible. My heartbeat had sped up, but hopefully he hadn't noticed.

Christopher didn't stop pinching my nipples. He was twisting them now, just a couple degrees to either side, but enough to make them feel tender and sensitive. I stirred now, my legs moving away from his. This just made Christopher move towards me, closing whatever distance I had made in the small bed. With my pulse panging in my throat I finally opened my eyes, ready to be done and go home. I was facing away from him, looking at his dirty dorm room. It was dim and cool, some of the winter chill eating its way through the windows. The curtains were drawn against the sun, creating an artificial night. I cleared my throat and wiggled a bit in his hold. Christopher's heavy breathing didn't stop and I felt a sting as he flicked at one of my engorged nipples. I couldn't help myself, and cried out, "ow!" My body jerked away from his, but with alarmingly quick reflexes one of his hands reached out and grabbed one of my wrists, bringing it against my sternum and pulling my whole torso back towards him. "No!" I cried out, now close enough to smell the IPAs from last night on his hot breath.

"Ssshhhhhh," he sighed impatiently into the nape of my neck, sending a shower of icy chills down my back. His grip felt like stone against my pinned hand. I craned my neck but couldn't turn to see his face because of the position. What I could see is our legs, entangled, his so much larger and longer than my own. I felt a lump in the back of my throat and reflected how his height and athletic build had seemed like a positive thing last night when I was sizing up which man I wanted to go home with.

With his free hand Christopher was massaging my breasts and periodically traced his hand down my stomach to the top of my pubic hair. I felt overstimulated and I jerked my body again, trying to get away and out of the bed. He acted like I hadn't tried to move at all. He made a low noise in his throat and scratched his nails down my stomach more aggressively on the next pass.

I didn't want to be in this position. I never thought I'd be in this position. My brain was going too fast for me to think straight and I felt intensely vulnerable in my state of undress. We had had sex last night, so he couldn't be assaulting me. That didn't happen if you'd already had sex, right?

The sex had not been very good. We had both been drunk and fumbling. I remembered he had been frustrated with all of the straps on my dress and would have torn it if I hadn't hurried to get it off. He was a good kisser, not too messy considering how many vodka shots we had done together. But that was about the extent of the positives of our stumbling encounter. There hadn't been any foreplay, so I still felt sore from when he had thrust into me too quickly. That was part of the reason I hadn't been keen to stick around for morning sex, I wasn't eager to irritate whatever fucking abrasions he had given to me in his impatience.

I felt paralyzed, not just mentally but like my limbs wouldn't move even if they were given the command. I took a deep breath, the air catching slightly as he tapped his fingertip against the center of my left nipple. Christopher must have felt my arm relax because he in turn relaxed his iron grip on my wrist. "Good. You don't need to do anything. Just lay there," He said it so casually that I wondered if I had been overreacting. Maybe this situation wasn't what it had seemed just a second ago. How could he sound like that if it was? I lay still like I've seen bunnies do on the street when I walk by, as if they can turn invisible while completely out in the open.

"I..." I was beginning to find my words, but my throat felt dry and scratchy. I was sure that if I told him I wanted to leave then he would let me. That was when he abruptly flipped me onto my front, pushing my face into his pillow.

"Shhhhhhh," he said again, sternly and proprietarily. I protested helplessly, the pillow soaking up my non-verbal squeals. He wasn't on top of me, but I could feel him in between my legs, maybe sitting or kneeling. My nipples, raw from his ministrations, felt hot and ragged against his pilling bed sheets. "Don't make trouble," he said earnestly. "I hate high maintenance girls." He let go of my head enough that I could turn it to the side and take a much-needed breath. I felt tears welling in my eyes from the pressure this position had been putting on my nose. Through the moisture I could see him, naked except for boxers, with his blonde curly hair looking rumpled and stylish. He looked no worse for wear even after the boozy night we had shared. His skin was clear and tanned, his muscles well-defined from some sport I'm sure he had mentioned last night. I couldn't see it but I knew his cock must be hard inside his boxers.

I tried to pull my legs up to my chest, all of my focus on the vulnerability I felt in the hot place between my legs. His reflexes were too fast for me again, all I had time to do was wiggle my butt and his knees and hands were there pinning my legs in place. "Oh, so, you're going to make this fun for me?" He smiled jovially, as if what he said had been a funny joke that we were both in on. His blue eyes prickled with excitement. The way he had said the word "fun" ignited cold terror in my gut. A new type of survival mode must have kicked in because I went limp under him. I was practically spread eagle now, totally at his mercy.

"Mmmmmm," Christopher hummed in satisfaction and ran one cold finger down the center of my spine. "Good," he said patronizingly, "I told you do don't have to do much." I looked over my shoulder to see that he was freeing himself from his boxer briefs, stroking his large pink erection with one hand. He deposited his boxers on the floor with the rest of our clothes from last night. I thought about screaming. We were in a dorm so chances are someone would hear me. But as I thought about it, I realized I hadn't heard any of the normal dorm sounds outside his door. Maybe this was one of the new dorms with thicker walls. Maybe it would be insane to scream because we had already had sex. So what if he wanted to fuck me again? I wasn't exactly a virgin, people would say.

Christopher was already lining up his erection at my entrance, looking down with a concentrated expression as my gaze travelled his face, trying to get his attention and plead with him using my eyes. I had no idea whether I was wet or not, so stiffened my whole body in preparation for pain as his head brushed my sex. The warmth of the head contrasted with his cold hands and the chill from the window. It almost felt good. The head met resistance. The outside of my entrance felt dry and unyielding. I continued to tense up, bracing for an intrusion. Christopher casually reached a hand down and parted my lips, finding a well of wetness and drawing it up to paint my entrance. I shuddered, feeling a volatile cocktail of disgust and arousal. I was wetter than I expected.

I slowly and purposefully expelled my breath as his head pushed against my inner labia again. He wasn't wearing a condom so his cock wasn't lubed at all. It felt cruel and hard instead of slick and easy like condoms had always felt. I was pretty sure we had used protection last night, I almost always do, so the lack of condom was particularly glaring. Thankfully I was on the pill but hated the idea of having him so intimately inside me without a barrier between us. The moment felt dreadfully intimate, his hands running over the fine hairs on the backs of my thighs, my breathing accidentally syncing up with his for a span of two breaths. There was complete silence besides the noises we made, as if we were the only ones left alive after a terrible disaster.

Christopher stroked my pussy again, making me feel unexplainably cold. It wasn't so bad, I chided myself, loosening all of my muscles to the best of my ability. A mix between a hiss and a sigh pushed itself out of my lips as the head of his cock pushed inside me, only an inch at first. Christopher grabbed a handful of my ass, amusing himself by massaging the flesh he found there, then spanking me hard. I gasped and my movement caused his cock to slip further inside of me, another inch. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. You've got such a great ass, damn," Christopher chuckled, sounding as if he were talking to himself instead of expecting me to answer. His cock felt like an iron intrusion inside me, its presence stretching my lips out painfully. I didn't remember him feeling this big last night, but I guessed last night I had been horny and more receptive. I tried to put myself in a receptive place, remembering how sexy Christopher looked to me at the party last night, all cute and charming.

Done playing with my ass, Christopher firmly grasped my hips and sheathed himself all the way inside of me. I hissed at the pain then whimpered at the pleasure that always comes with penetration. I could feel his fleshy head bump against my cervix, causing a further wave of pleasure to burn through me. Christopher groaned unselfconsciously, pulled out, then plunged into me again. He started fucking me with a slow leisurely rhythm, his hair shagging into his face, his eyes closed hard. My pussy lubricated itself liberally now, though I could still feel the spots inside me that had gotten hurt by him last night. They stung and throbbed as his cock pushed in and out. I tear easily so I wondered if there might be a little blood mixed in with the arousal fluid inside of me.

My hands clawed at the bedsheets, balling them up in my fists. I held onto them as he rocked my body back and forth with his thrusts. I resisted the way he was pulling at my hips, trying to minimize the depth of his penetration. Every time his long member hit my cervix I felt a pang in my clit that made me want to rub it, and that was something I was trying to avoid. "Mmmm, yeah," Christopher murmured. With his eyes still closed he grabbed at my hair, arching my head backwards with no regard for my pain. I didn't say anything, still trying to keep my body loose and relaxed under him. My scalp screamed under his hand, but I just made a minute guttural noise.

Somewhere outside the window the chapel tolled its bells to announce it was ten o'clock. He kept his cruel grip through all ten peels of the bell. Christopher was fucking me faster now, using a steady rhythm I could feel in my bones. He let go of my hair and I let my head fall to the pillow limply, rolling with his strokes now. He kept this up for a long handful of minutes. Every time he groaned I thought he might be cumming, but he wasn't done with me yet. He pulled roughly out of me, making my own arousal drip from his cock onto my thighs. He slapped my ass a couple times, watching the flesh ripple and bounce under his attentions. Then he took hold of my hips and flipped me onto my back effortlessly, like my body mass was nothing to him.

I glared balefully up at him, but he only had eyes for my tits, and bent down to capture one of my nipples in his mouth. He sucked on it hard and nipped at it when it stiffened. My hand came up to try to push him off of me, but he took my hand off his shoulder, casually, almost patiently. His teeth caressed my sensitive bud, then he widened his mouth to bite the circle of flesh surrounding my nipple. He bit so long and deep that I knew it would leave a mark. I whimpered pitifully, unable to control myself. I found myself whimpering even louder as he applied the same treatment on my other nipple. Every time I cried out I could feel his cock twitch and become just a little harder against my skin.

Finally he lifted his mouth off of my tits and our gazes met for the first time that morning. He looked dangerous and hungry, his eyes excited and burning. His lips were coated with saliva from sucking and biting me. I was the first one to look away. At first, I looked at his bare dorm wall, but decided that not knowing what was coming made it worse, and looked back at Christopher. Veins stood out in his forearms as he held his cock, which made him look powerful. His muscles weren't unimpressive, standing out under his skin now like topological landmarks. The baser parts of my brain reveled in the sight of him looming over me. I leaned into the feeling. He was going to fuck me again and I wanted to be wet when he entered me. I ate up the sight of his large hands and his brow gleaming with perspiration over those intense eyes. I had always wanted to try rough sex with someone strong and sexy like him, but I hadn't pictured it happening like this.

Christopher reached his index finger down to my sex. I breathed calming breaths, focused, ready for him to part my lips and stab into me. My folds were moist from just being fucked, almost embarrassingly so. Christopher stroked them, his finger ending up on the hood of my clit. I moaned involuntarily, stifling myself by biting my palm. The thought crossed my mind that he might do to my clit what he had been doing to my nipples, twisting and sucking and using his teeth. It made me want to cross my legs, but he didn't let me, holding my thigh with the palm of his hand while his finger stroked my slick hood steadily. "Mmm good," he remarked to himself, and abruptly cut off his attentions.

My clit throbbed and cried out for more stimulation. I must have made a noise, because he glanced at me, then smirked. Christopher grabbed his cock to line it up with my weeping entrance. I mewled, half angry, half desperate with need. He ignored me and leaned down so his body was parallel to mine, using one of his arms to pin my right arm and support himself. The weight he was putting on my arm hurt, and I was sure it would soon go numb.

It took five long seconds for the thick head of his cock to push past the tightest part of my entrance. That was maybe the most painful part. I realized I had been tensing and released all of my muscles that I had been holding in anticipation. Christopher must have noticed my exhalation of breath. Still pushing into me he growled, "Yeah, just lay there." He finally had sheathed himself all of the way. After a couple heartbeats he pulled back out, leaving my wet pussy feeling desolate and needy. His second time entering me this way felt a little easier, his cock now lubricated with my fluids. It glided against my walls, teasing my g-spot as it moved. I still felt stretched out and uncomfortable, but I decided to focus on my g-spot. If I could just cum then the pain would go away, at least for a spell. My hips came up to meet his as he fucked me harder, his speed increasing seemingly exponentially. I made a small breathy murmur and tried to get hold of his arm, so I could use it as leverage. He looked at me through his lashes, a baleful expression on his face. Quickly and casually he slapped me across the face, then redoubled the power behind his thrusts.

I yelped and groaned, half hoping that someone would burst into the room at the sound of the violence. Christopher was now digging his fingertips into my clavicle as he moved, fixating on the bounce of my breasts as I was fucked. His breathing hitched and I stopped my own gasps to listen, praying he would cum. My pussy felt so stretched out and tender. He kept using it with impunity though, treating me like an inanimate object even as I cried out deep in my throat.

My body put up with the violence for what felt like a long stretch of time. I was used to quick fucks, maybe five minutes max. I didn't mind quickies like my friends did, I thought the shorter the better, usually. It was kind of thrilling, really, when a guy came right away with me. It was flattering, and I mostly just got my kicks from the attention the guys paid me anyways.

Finally, Christopher seemed to be building to a climax. His cock was pistoning in at out of me so quickly and with such force that my jaw rattled. I felt like I couldn't take it anymore, but also like my vocal cords were frozen. I didn't know how to get him to stop, so I lay there limply as he ravaged me. The pressure in my clit was building again as he moved against me, his pubic bone hitting me again and again. My fingers were claws against his mattress and I gritted my teeth, feeling dangerously close to the edge. My clit pulsed and twitched under his body, ready to make my body explode.

At that moment Christopher groaned heroically. He growled again, making me freeze up like prey, and I could feel his load spurt into me. It felt warm and sticky and like it was never going to end. I stayed frozen, waiting as his cock pulsed semen into me. I was sure I had felt it hit my cervix, and was now feeling some ooze out of my pussy lips as well. Christopher let his body ease down on top of me, his head parallel to mine on the pillow. He was breathing like he had run a race, and I was trying not to breath at all. When I did I could smell our combined sex fluids and his sweat, and his smell on the sheets. Eventually he drew out of me and rolled over, laying on his back next to me.

It took a second for my limbs to respond to my commands, but soon I was moving into a sitting position. When he didn't stop me I climbed off of the bed. I rifled around on the floor for my dress, not caring that he had a perfect view of my bent-over ass. Now was not the time to be prim. Luckily he seemed disinterested in me now, gazing at the ceiling and swiping sweat off of his chest with his palm. I got my dress on, my thighs shaking and pussy leaking fluid. I scanned the floor for my pink panties, but all of the clothing on the floor was black or navy blue. My gaze darted to the door and back to Christopher, wary and distrustful.