Through The Bedroom Door Ch 02

It was early Saturday morning and I was doing what any sensible young lady would do. I was curled up in my bed pretending to be asleep and ignoring the world generally. Eventually my mother came to the door and told me it was past time I got up. I opened one eye, saw the clock said 8:00, and promptly closed my eye again. I hunched lower in the bed and said, "Humph."

"We're going out. I don't know when we'll be back. Don't stay in bed all day. Your father says that if Tom comes around the things he wants are on the kitchen table. Please make sure you give them to him."

I said, "Umph," and snuggled deeper.

I heard the rest of the family driving away and was feeling a little irritated. Despite myself, my mother had managed to wake me. I stirred and tried to snuggle down but it was too late. I was awake. Sighing and feeling hard done by I got out of bed.

One nice thing my father had done when I turned eighteen was to convert the small storage room next to my bedroom into an en suite and a walk-in robe. Now I didn't have to use the main bathroom, which can be a real hassle with two younger brothers. They just don't seem to understand that I need to spend time in the bathroom, not just run in, wave my hands at a tap, and run out. Now I had my own mini-bathroom and it was great.

I got the things that I wanted to wear and out them on the bed. I turned on my TV to get some music going and skipped into the en suite for a nice shower. Not wanting a mess of wet hair I used a shower cap. I just didn't feel like spending an hour doing up my hair. It wasn't as if I was going anywhere. After my shower I dried off and went padding back into the bedroom to get dressed.

The music had given way to some boring news so before I dressed I grabbed the remote to change channels. Then I thought what the hell, a quick game won't hurt, and picked up the Wii control. I'd been practicing my tennis on Wii and had recently moved up a notch in the skill rankings. I picked an opponent and started playing.

It was terrible. I couldn't seem to do anything right. Irritated I reset the game and started playing again, this time taking more care. I did a lot better, though I lost a point when I heard the doorbell ring. That will be Tom, I thought, and ignored it. Knowing Tom he'd assume that the back door would be open and he'd see his stuff on the table with no need for my help. I concentrated on what I was doing.

I lost a point when I was distracted for a moment by my bedroom door opening. Well, it was already open, my mother not having bothered to shut it when she'd spoken to me earlier. Now someone had pushed it wider and was leaning against the door jamb watching me play. I flicked an eye at him, Tom, of course, and held up a hand indicating I wouldn't be long.

Back to the game, standing crouched and waiting for the serve, swaying slightly from side to side. The serve came and once again I was bouncing around, working hard, determined not to lose this match. I'd worked hard to get to this level and I was not going to be beaten.

I won it, too, which slightly surprised me. Maybe I was doing better than I thought. Wii is a great way to get some healthy exercise, you know. I was jumping up and down triumphantly, arms raised, and Tom was standing there, laughing.

"Hey, I won," I said happily. "Why don't you give me a game and see how well you do? Oh, dad says the things you want are on the kitchen table."

"I saw you through the bedroom door and couldn't resist watching you play. I'll take you up on the game. I think I'll enjoy playing with you. And your father's wrong. I made need the things on the kitchen table but what I want is right here."

What did he mean by that, I wondered, then saw him giving me the once over. I pinked slightly but I enjoy having men look at me. Then a memory struck and I looked down at myself. Fucking hell, I was naked. Shower, dried, then a quick game before I got dressed. Which meant I hadn't reached the get dressed stage yet.

"Oh my god, oh my god, get out," I was yammering, pushing at Tom with one hand and trying to cover everything else with the other. Like that was going to work.

"Now don't be like that," said Tom. "You offered me a game and I've accepted."

He was moving forward despite my pushing at him and I found myself moving backwards.

"But I'm not dressed," I pointed out somewhat frantically, and he laughed, the unfeeling swine.

"I noticed. I assure you that I most certainly noticed. I especially noticed when you were doing that little victory dance. It's amazing how nicely a fine pair of breasts can bounce and you certainly have a fine pair. Anyway, the game I'm going to play doesn't require clothes. Just a few preliminaries to get the playground ready and away we go."

He's got to be kidding, I was thinking. I mean, he surely didn't think he could just walk into my bedroom and, um, fuck me, because I was pretty sure that that was what he was hinting at.

"Ah, look, Tom, this is silly. You can't really think that I'm going to let you, ah, that is, you can't, um. . ."

"Sally, love, you've already invited me to play with you. You can't really blame me if I accept. As you can see, I'm quite ready to begin."

He waved a hand downward as he said that and my eyes went where he indicated. My god! He'd dropped his trousers and his cock was erect and pointing at me. I was shocked. I might not have been quite a virgin, and I had seen a cock before this, but not in my own bedroom, standing there waving to me.

He took a step towards me and I took a step backwards but there wasn't any room for me to take a step. I finished up sitting on the bed and he just stepped forward and was standing between my knees so I couldn't close them. Talk about letting it all hang out.

"Just relax," he said, speaking softly. "You'll find it will all go quite smoothly."

His hands closed on my breasts, holding them and then starting to rub them. He was plainly enjoying the feel of them while me - ah, I have to admit that his touch didn't feel too bad. He knew what he was doing. I stopped myself before I could start enjoying it, hastily leaning back away from him.

Now I had another problem. If I kept leaning back I'd wind up flat on my back and all he'd have to do would be to lean forward and he'd cover me like a blanket. Accordingly I put my arms behind me to prop myself up in a half-sitting position. This seemed to please him. He moved even closer and I could feel his erection resting against me while his hands were still able to reach my breasts and play with them.

Apart from squirming about a little and protesting that he shouldn't be doing that there wasn't much that I could do. Still, I found myself relaxing a little as he wasn't really trying anything else. Just teasing my breasts while his erection rubbed against my tummy. If he tried to stick that thing in me it would be a different matter. I'd fight him tooth and claw.

The rotten man tricked me. He let go my breasts and started stroking me with his cock. He didn't try to stick it in, just stroking it along my lips, every so often gently poking me. Then he stopped doing that and started playing with my breasts again. I had noticed that his cock was poking against me, but it wasn't as though he was trying to stick it in me, just pressing lightly against me. I could handle that.

What happened was that a minute or two later his cock seemed to just pop past my lips and slip into me. Not very far, but it was inside me.

"You can't do that," I protested. "Take it out."

"I didn't do anything," Tom denied. "You pushed yourself onto me."

"I did no such thing," I protested with great indignation. (Thinking about it later I realised that the steady pressure against me had just made my lips yield enough for Tom to slip in without any extra effort on his part. Low down swine of a thing to do.)

"You must have," Tom replied. "I mean, you'd have noticed if I pushed myself in. Feel the difference."

Feel the difference, was right. He just calmly pushed and I could feel him sliding into my passage.

"Tom! What are you doing?"

"Pushing," he said helpfully, and his cock was continuing on its way. Looking down I could see that his cock was more than halfway inside me and going deeper.

I was making spluttering noises but it didn't help. A little more pushing and Tom was home.

"We might as well go along with it now," he said happily. "A bit late to pull back, don't you think?"

Like I was being given a great deal of say in the matter. He was taking me and had every intention of continuing to take me. I'm not an idiot. All I could do was make the best of the situation. I relaxed and let him go to work.

There is a big difference between getting screwed by your boyfriend and getting screwed by a friend of your father. (Some friend.) With your boyfriend you're all hot and heavy and excited and neither of you have the slightest idea of what you're doing apart from getting it together. (Probably explains why my previous forays, sex-wise, haven't been all that earth-shattering.) With Tom taking me, my liking it or not, I was able to theoretically stand back a little and observe what was going on. And learn what to do. Maybe everyone should have some formal screwing lessons as part of sex education. Don't tell us, show us, and then let us demonstrate what we've learned. Wouldn't exam time be interesting?

As it was, from the moment Tom started pushing into me, I was able to be a little detached and watch and see what was going on. (Only a little detached, because there was the whole 'Oh my god. He's raping me' thing going on at the same time.)

I had actually laid back (reclined anyway) and watched as his cock pushed into me, noting the size of it (biggest I've ever seen, not that I've seen many), and really feeling it as slid into me, able to calmly observe the sensations that were being triggered as his cock drove home.

Now that he was in me and getting ready to really do me I found myself collapsing back onto the bed with Tom looming over me, lying on top of me. I could see his hands on my breasts, feeling them swell (my breasts - not his hands) as he massaged me. He'd flick a nipple and I could feel it all the way down to my toes. (More like all the way down to my groin, but you know what I mean.)

I felt Tom's cock moving as he pulled back, felt the drag as it slid back down my passage, then he paused and I found myself all expectant of it charging back into me. Back it came, fast and furious, and I could feel the excitement it created, feel myself getting aroused. Even more aroused, I realised, as I'd been wet and ready when he initially pushed in, somewhat to my surprise.

Instead of just mindlessly jerking about under him I found myself making the conscious decision to push up to meet him as he drove in. It felt wonderful. So much better than I would have expected. He came in again, hands squeezing my breasts at the same time, and once again I was pushing up to meet him.

Unfortunately, that was the point at which my critical analysis of Tom's performance fell apart. It was now that things seemed to fall apart around me. I was thinking, "Oh my god, what's he doing to me?" when I knew precisely what he was doing but it was still a case of 'oh my god' and I was losing the ability to think of anything.

In nothing flat he had me reduced to bucking helplessly under him, going, "Oh, oh, oh," as he took me. He was pounding away and I was just so dreadfully aware of his cock and what it was doing to me. It just seemed to go on and on as Tom helped himself to my lush goodness, his hard energy totally commanding my body.

Finally there was a subtle change. I wasn't sure what it presaged at first, but then I knew as I climaxed spectacularly. I'd have screamed the house down if Tom hadn't clamped his hand over my mouth.

"Well," Tom observed afterwards, "that was an interesting little game. Still, I do have work to do so I'd better get my things and move along. You seem to have a certain degree of natural skill. Why don't you drop past my place some evening and I'll teach you how to improve your performance?"

Of all the gall. First he assaults me and then invites me back to his place to be assaulted all over again.

"Oh, I'd love to, Tom, but don't you think your wife might object?" I asked, smiling sweetly.

"No. No, I don't think so. She'd probably get a kick out of helping to teach someone your age how to make love properly. Just drop by anytime and we'll see what we can do with you."

With that he went waltzing out, presumably to grab his stuff and get on with his work. Could you believe it? What sort of man makes an offer like that to a sweet young thing like me? What is this world coming to?