Simon Says So

(read part one first for more clarity)

THURSDAY

The next day Simon pretended like nothing had happened. I had done a depressed job of pretending nothing had happened with Camren last night but Simon he did a smiling, jovial job of pretending nothing had happened. He was his usual larger than life self. At first I thought he was crazy and then that I was crazy. That maybe I'd dreamt it. But then I noticed that he didn't stand too close to me this morning. And he didn't "accidently" brush against an indelicate part of my body like he usually did twice a day. I wasn't sure which one I preferred. Pretending nothing had happened or acknowledging something did. I decided to take his queue and do both. Afterall I was in no hurry to explain to Camren how I ended up on my knees in front of Simon. If Simon denied having done anything untoward I'm not sure whose side Camren would take. They were brothers and he'd been in Camren's life a lot longer than I had been.

FRIDAY

It wasn't till after I had gotten home from work on Friday that I remembered Camren was leaving for some work thing for the weekend. I had hoped that the fake buoyancy would be the worst of it but Simon greeted me in the livingroom when I got home with an icy smile that sent panic through my system. I decided I would spend the night at a friend's house. There was no way I was going to spend a whole weekend with him alone. I left as inconspicuously as possible to go pack in my room. I put jeans, a couple of T-shirts and other essentials into a day-bag and opened my bedroom door. Simon was there in the hallway. Still smiling. My panic grew as my heart missed a beat and started pounding.

"I think you are mad at me," Simon said, almost sounding concerned. He was wearing nothing but boxers again. They were the standard issue blue and white plaid. I thought I could see the tip of his half hard penis poking out through the flap. In his boxers, his wide shoulders were set off by his waist and somehow made him seem bigger.

"No, I'm not mad," I replied, "I was just going to keep a friend of mine company because she just got dumped."

"Which friend?" he asked.

"You don't know her." I said unable to come up with anything more convincing in my panic.

"What about me? What if I needed to be kept company?"

"Well call one of your friends," I said a little more boldly, full of sarcasm, "I'm sure there are 10 girls who'd love to keep you company."

"See now that makes me think you are mad," he said, icy again.

"Simon please, just let me leave." I said, standing in the doorway, clutching my bag.

"No," he said, paused, and then added, "I know why you're mad and I want to make it better."

"Why am I mad Simon?" I said, my nails digging into my hand from holding on to my bag for dear life. I had no idea what I wanted his answer to be.

"You're mad because the other day only I got some and you didn't get any," he said soberly, "And I want to fix that. If you'll let me."

If I'd let him? If I'd let him? Really? He had moved in closer to block the door and I had refused to back down into my room so we stood close enough for me to smell his breath. Though there was nothing particularly rank about it I felt like throwing up. I dropped my bag thinking a smaller me would be easier to get past him. I ducked, muttering something about needing a glass of water, and tried to maneuver myself past him. It didn't work. He pushed me back into the room and closed the door behind him.

"Simon I'm fine," I said, my voice changing volumes all on its own, "You don't need to reciprocate, or whatever."

"But I want you to know I'm not selfish," he said, full of sincerity. He grabbed a hold of my arm and the front of my jeans in one motion, "Now I don't want to hear another word about it, okay?"

His hands first stumbled on the button and then got it open. I was very hot and even more uncomfortable. "Simon please don't," I muttered weakly.

He pushed me down on the bed then and I felt a sudden dull pain as he punched me in the stomach. Not too hard but hard enough to make me gasp for breath. "I told you I don't want to hear nothing more from you. It's your turn to get some."

"Simon STOP," I said yelling the word in full panic now, letting all the pretenses fall. I began to kick my legs at him without connecting to anything vital. I was going to get out of this. This was not going to happen. Why hadn't I just left when Camren was still here? What the fuck was wrong with me. And what the fuck was wrong with him. What the fuck did he think he was doing, "GET OFF ME SIMON." I said yelling.

Simon took his time getting my legs under control, trapping them as he had done yesterday between his massive body and the side of the bed and then he very matter-of-factly slapped me against the face and just as matter-of-factly said, "Stop struggling."

The first slap didn't hurt. Neither did the second, but the third and the fourth and the fifth – slap, Slap, SLAP – getting stronger and stronger on the same spot on my cheek started to cut and as my adrenaline died down so did my fight. I felt trapped and hopeless and I started to cry. I tried to stop but couldn't.

Simon smiled down at me from above and kissed me under my eyes right where the tears were falling and said something that sounded so cliché and so threatening at the same time, "I don't want to hurt you but I will," and then he punched me in the stomach again to make his point. Hard this time. Making me double over, my ass rising off the bed. The pain made me clench my eyes shut and lose all other sensations.

Simon used the opportunity to hook his hands on my jeans and pull them off. He lay half standing half lying on me for a few seconds not doing anything. His hand rested on top of my underwear. The heat from his hand combined with the heat from my crotch made me feel like I was burning. Like when you leave your hand in an oven too long. The pain from the punch had blocked out all sense of the situation but he had given me a few seconds to collect myself and I was panicking again. This was not right. This was not going to happen. What the fuck was I going to do. And more than that how was going to live with him after. Especially around Camren. Damn Camren. Why did he have to leave.

Before I could form a complete coherent thought he slipped his hand inside my underwear and made slow circles with his thumb around my clit. I cried in earnest now. I was dry on the outside but inside, if he slipped a finger in it would be over. It would be over. He'd win. But Simon was content to finger my clit for a few more minutes, kissing my teary cheeks, my lips, the side of my neck and whispering in his most soothing voice, "It's okay. I promise this will be fun. It's okay. Just relax. I'll make it good."

I was still crying but I had stopped panicking. I had even started to relax a little as much as one could under the circumstances when suddenly he stuck one fat finger inside my pussy. I involuntarily made a guttural sound and he smiled feeling the juices that he had somehow elicited starting to flow . He forced another finger in making me groan again. He slowly pulled them both out, glistening. His smile grew wider and he seemed to be studying his fingers for a few seconds before he stuck them in my face and said, "Suck."

When I didn't open my mouth he put his other hand around my throat and squeezed lightly till I opened up. I had stopped crying mostly because I was too dazed. He put his fingers in and I sucked. I sucked hard like I had sucked his dick two nights ago. Ignoring the pressure on my neck. Ignoring him when he added, "See I told you this was your turn to get some."

He removed his fingers from my mouth. They were now wet with saliva and vaginal secretions and pulled down my panties. I had long since stopped actively resisting. He pushed his fingers back in my pussy, rubbing my clit faster with his now wet thumb.

"Simon, please – " I said, not bothering to finish the sentence.

He grinned. Actually grinned, and kissed me, pushing his tongue through my passive lips and into my mouth playing with my tongue which was trying to avoid his more than anything else. With his tongue still down my throat he felt my breath quicken and become ragged. He took that as a cue, pushed his boxers down and thrust the dick he had thrust down my throat, into my pussy. I made a wordless throaty sound as he pushed.

He rested there and I felt my vaginal muscles contract around his penis several times as if willing more of it in. He grabbed me by the throat and pushed me further up on the bed so I was lying fully on my back now. He started pounding into, his hand still wrapped around my throat squeezing tightly now. It didn't feel good exactly but it didn't feel bad either. It felt better than it should and I wanted to scream but that would take too much air. I was breathing shallower and shallower as he thrust harder and harder and squeezed tighter and tighter.

I started attacking his hand with mine as my vision got narrower and black started spreading around the edges. But even as I was trying to pull his hands off my throat I came. Noticeably . My back arched off the bed for a full ten seconds and I stopped resisting the hand around my neck pushing down on his dick as wave after wave of orgasm pushed me over the edge. As if he had been waiting for me to cum, he thrust a few more times before cumming himself.

His hand loosened around my neck and he collapsed on top of me. For a moment he just lay there breathing hard. Then, he started sucking and biting one spot on my neck. I felt him bruise the skin and I knew he had left a nice sized mark.