Savaged

She’s wearing the light blue jacket she always wears when the weather’s a little iffy. It’s good for rain and the chill night can bring. It also brings out the color in her eyes. I can see her long, highlighted brown hair swinging across her back. She reaches up and tucks a lock of it behind her ear.

I love it when she does that. There’s something simple and sexy about the movement. It’s such a casual gesture, but it always gets me going.

I duck around the tree as she gets closer, careful not to let the bark catch me again. Her form is out of my sight for a few moments, but I can still hear her approaching footsteps. When I’m sure she has to be close, I look around the tree. Her back is to me as she heads up the short walkway to the front door.

Time to act.

I look left, right, and over my shoulder. Yeah, it’s in the wee hours of the night, but it’s a college campus on the weekend, and you never know who’s going to be around, and I don’t want to be seen. Melissa lives at the end of the block on a quiet street, so I don’t see anyone else on the street, and the other side of the duplex is dark.

I walk quickly and silently to catch up with her. She’s fumbling with her keys, and I’m pretty sure she’s still a little intoxicated. She not stumbling drunk, but probably nicely buzzed. She gets the key into the lock when I’m just a few feet behind her, but she hasn’t noticed me yet. As she turns the key and opens the door, I’m on her.

My dick is as hard as a rock.

Arm around her waist, hand over her mouth, I quickly shove her through the doorway and kick the door closed behind me. She’s startled, and for a moment all she can do is tense up and try to figure out what just happened. When she realizes I’ve got a hold of her, she cries out.

I shake her roughly and pull her back against my chest.

“Quiet, girl,” I say into her ear as I push her forward with my knee against the back of her legs. She recognizes my voice. I’m confident she does. “I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

I shove her forward, toward the bedroom at the end of the hallway. She struggles against me as she figures out where I’m going, but I don’t break my grip on her. I slip my hand into my back pocket and pull out the gun I have hidden there. She stills as I press it against her side.

It’s an airsoft pistol. I borrowed it from my roommate but didn’t tell him why. He probably thought I wanted to do some target shooting. I checked the gun about fifty times to make sure it wasn’t loaded with anything. I didn’t want to take any chances.

“Feel that?” I snap at her. “You know what’s going to happen here, so you might as well get used to the idea. You’re either going to get my cock or my gun. Now stop struggling.”

She stills, her muscles tight. I can hear her rapid breathing as I reach my hand up from her waist and squeeze her left breast. I press my erection up against her ass.

“That’s a good girl,” I whisper. I shove the gun into my back pocket, wondering what the hell I am going to do with it once my jeans are off. I guess I hadn’t quite played all this out in my mind as well as I thought I had.

Reaching under her shirt, I place my palm flat against her stomach and pull her against me a little tighter. I run my hand up to the spot between her breasts and skillfully unclasp the bra in the front, letting her breasts fall free. I flick her nipple and then trail my fingers down her side.

She twists as she giggles.

“You can’t laugh at this!” I insist as I pull my hands away, releasing her completely.

“Sorry, Jason,” she mutters as she straightens her shoulders and takes a deep breath. “That tickled.”

I roll my eyes and sigh a little. Melissa had gone on and on about how I was supposed to stay in character, and now she fucking giggles.

“You want to keep going?” I ask. There’s a part of me that wants her to say no.

“Yes,” she says. She looks over her shoulder and gives me that insanely beautiful smile I’d been infatuated with since I was sixteen. She claimed she had no idea how I felt about her until I’d finally gotten the courage to ask her out our first year of college. She’d broken up with the football captain right after senior prom when he told her he’d accepted a scholarship at an out-of-state school. I’d been respectful enough to give her the summer to get over him.

I take a deep breath before grasping her around the waist again.

This was all Melissa’s idea. I don’t know if she got it from all those bodice-ripper romance books she reads or if it just came out of her own head, but she said she really wanted to try it. Spice up the sex life after a year and a half of only going as kinky as doggy-style. It’s not that I was opposed to it at all, but I was a little scared.

I didn’t think I would hurt her. I’d never hurt her. I was really just afraid I’d like it too much. She reminded me about a thousand times that there was nothing wrong with having rape fantasies, but I wasn’t so sure. It had taken some convincing.

Melissa had explained exactly what she wanted. She even educated me on what a “safeword” was. She picked the word “Smurf” because she loved those goofy cartoons.

Okay, back into the mode.

“I’ve been watching you for a long time,” I whisper against her ear. “I’ve seen what a cock-tease you are. It’s time you gave it up.”

“Please,” she begs, “don’t hurt me! There’s money in my purse—you can have it all!”

“I don’t want your money, whore,” I tell her. “I want that tight little pussy of yours.”