Sex With An Ex

We both knew that our relationship was over. Even though my quitting college had brought me back to our hometown, where he was still staying with his folks, he made it clear that he wanted to explore his homosexuality. He didn't bring me into the city to meet his friends, and he worked hard the rest of the week for gas and entertainment money. The only time he wanted to see me was when he needed a good fuck. Still, when we decided to watch a movie with his folks, I thought I was safe. I was sure that he wouldn't be interested in doing anything, not with them home and so close. And besides, I was done having sex with him.

After the movie, his parents retired for the night and we cuddled on his bed. However, as we listened to music and talked about art and life, his hands roamed on my body. He was obsessed with my breasts and with my vagina. I was uncomfortable with his attentions, but with his slow withdrawal from our relationship, I missed having another person touch me. After a while, I squirmed away and whispered that I'd rather not tonight. That his parents might not be asleep.

He chuckled and said, "It's okay. Just a little bit more?" He leaned over and bit my nipple. As I gasped and tried to comprehend this move, he pinned my arms over my head and nipped and sucked my nipples through my t-shirt. All I could do was whimper. I wanted him to stop. I wanted him to keep going. I wanted him to love me.

He tugged off my shirt and my nipples stood up in the colder air. He grinned down at me and straddled me, fingers massaging my breasts. I gazed up at him, not sure what to say. I missed him so much. My body missed him. When he leaned over for a kiss, I kissed him back. I hate to admit it, but I swooned. Light-headed, eyes closed, gasping for breath.

I hardly paid attention as he pulled me up off of the bed and stripped the rest of my clothes off of me. His own clothes dropped to the floor. Next thing I knew, I was laying down on the carpet by the bed, my head against his bookshelf, toes pointing to the door. The thought ran through my head that I was utterly naked and exposed, if his mother came into the room.

He pinned me down on the carpet. His 6'6" bulk to my petite 5'4" was enough to keep me from getting up, even without his strong arms and muscular thighs. He grinned down at me with a boyish expression. He kneed my legs apart. This was just like previous BDSM experiences, but something felt wrong. I didn't want this to happen. I may have been wet from his attentions, but I honestly did not want to have sex with him!

"Please stop. I don't want to do this." I look back now and I can't believe that I forgot to say our safeword, the one word that was designed to stop all play instantly. We had done enough non-consent S/M play that it should have been instinctive, but I forgot to say it. But I honestly begged. I was worried that his mother would hear and come into the room. The first thing she would see would be his ass banging into me, my thighs wrapped around his waist in an effort to get him off as quickly as possible.

He panted, sometimes looking down at me in triumph and pleasure, and sometimes up and off into the distance. I had no idea what he was thinking about. I just wanted it to stop. I kept trying to push him off of me, but I was ineffective.

"Please, she might wake up. Please, stop.." He just fucked me harder. He thought it was part of the game, so he shifted his body so that his chest covered my face. He and I liked to play with breath control. But I didn't want to today! I wanted this to stop! I cried, but he wouldn't stop. He was really getting off on my struggles. Finally, my mouth found his nipple and sucked as hard as I could. If he wouldn't stop, then I'd make sure he came quickly.

I could feel his breathing change. His eyes were glazed and manic. He slipped out of me and straddled my chest before I could roll away. Panting, he grunted, "Where do you want it slut? Here? God, you're a good whore. Always good for a fuck." His fingers pried my mouth open and shoved his cock all the way in my throat. I gagged and looked up at him pleading. That was the last thing that I wanted. To be humiliated. To be forced to swallow his seed when all I wanted was for him to stop this. I was done with him. Please, please stop.

Then he stopped pumping into my mouth and slid back down my body. "Or here?" He rammed into my slick vagina, thrusting up, arms propping himself up by holding my shoulders down, back arched. I could feel his slight curved cock pressing up uncomfortably inside of me. At least I wouldn't get pregnant. I was on Depo Provera. That previous summer he'd convinced me to have several Depo shots so that we wouldn't have to use condoms. Because I hadn't ever liked the taste of his cum, but I reliably got off on being filled up, we got to enjoy his cock bare and slick with both of our juices. During our BDSM play, I'd occasionally swallowed, but most of the time I kissed him and he swallowed it instead.

Sickened now by the thought of swallowing his cum, I whimpered, "Inside of me...there." It was the least of the evils.

It was as if what I said was a trigger. He came. Sweat dripped down from his brow onto my breasts, trickling down my sides and puddling beneath me. My back was rubbed sore from the carpet. That's what I remember the most vividly. The rough carpet on my shoulder blades as he banged into me.