You know I'm going to say what every single person out there is thinking but lack the testicular fortitude to say. I fucking hate Valentines Day. I'm not even sure if I hate it worse when I'm single or when I'm in a relationship. I mean sure when I'm in single I have to look around at all the happy couples, I have to watch girls go crazy as they get flowers delivered to the office. I have to watch guys nervously make last second arrangements and of course I have to face the fact that everybody but me is getting some goddamn pussy. If I'm in a relationship I'm just one of those guys scrambling to make a random day seem important. I feel guilty if her girlfriend got a bigger bouquet or better chocolates or a reservation someplace more expensive. It's fucking bullshit either way.
Actually the truth is that after three consecutive lonely Valentine's Day's I can say for sure it's better to feel guilty and get pussy than it is to be alone. That's what was going to happen if I didn't do something different this year. I know what I should have done; I should have gone to the bar, found me a pretty lady, told her a beautiful lie and taken her to bed. The reality is that on Valentines Day a single girl at a bar is a sitting duck. The only reason she could possibly be there is because she doesn't have anyplace better to be and she's hoping that a one night stand will cheer her up. I had that option, that's what I did last year though and really it didn't cheer me up. This year was going to be a little different.
For as long as I can remember I've wanted to rape a girl. I know what kind of man that makes me and I've learned I can live with it. I love the extreme porn, stuff with girls gagging until spittle runs down their faces. The once where they are choked during anal are the best, especially when you can see the disgust in her eyes when they force her to suck them clean. It just gets my cock hard. The problem is as much as the idea turns me on I don't really want to hurt anybody and I really don't want to go to jail. I just want to play rough.
Well it turns out that there are lots of women who want to be victimized. I don't pretend to understand why; it doesn't really matter to me to be honest. Fortunately there are websites that set people up to fulfill their nasty fantasies. They take care of anything but apparently rape fantasies are amongst their most popular, so popular that they often have a hard time finding enough men to meet their demands. I was given a list of women, the one I chose looked a lot like the first girl I ever had crush on.
Her name was Fifi, and she was a petite Asian woman in her mid twenties. She wouldn't have stood out to most people in a crowd, she wasn't busty, didn't have fantastic legs. She was really rather plain but she reminded me of a girl named Crystal. I hadn't seen her since I was fifteen but she was the one that stuck with me. We never met face to face, the only thing she knew was that I was coming for her on Valentines Day. That was as much her idea as mine.
I admit that I feel a certain amount of shame that I enjoyed stalking her as much as I did. I wonder if all men derive a physical rush from hunting. That's what it felt like, it felt raw and predatory. It made me feel strong and somehow more than human. The best part was when she stopped by a local bar. I was close enough to smell her perfume. I even bought her, well all the ladies standing at the bar a round and toasted to all the singles on V Day. I didn't take my drink, I wanted to be sharp.
The bar was easy walking distance from her house so it didn't matter, or at least normally wouldn't have mattered that she was a little tipsy when she left. I wonder if lions get the same feeling when they spot a wounded gazelle hobbling along. It was painfully obvious how easy this was going to be. All my senses were kicked into overdrive as I closed for the strike. I had to be quick; the streets weren't entirely abandoned unfortunately. She was a willing victim, but that didn't mean I wanted to see if she'd testify to that in court.
Taking great care not to be seen I followed Fifi all the way back to her apartment. The moment she put the key into the lock I rushed her from behind wrapping my arm around her throat and lifting her up to the tips of her toes. "Don't make a sound, and open the door." She was trembling in my arms but she did as she was told and pushed her through into the apartment and shut the door behind me. "Are you alone?" She nodded and wriggled in my grasp trying get her feet planted. "That's it baby wiggle that ass, get me nice and hard." I pushed so she could feel my hard cock straining against my jeans.
"Please no." She whispered and froze in place. Taking her roughly by the shoulders I spun her around and shoved her up against the wall. Her eyes were wide with fright but just beneath her fear was an obvious look of lust. I slammed my mouth against hers in a savage kiss while I tore her blouse open and halfway down her slender body. With her shirt around her middle it held her hands in somewhat in place.
