“Let me see that ass,” he said, turning her away. She stared straight ahead at the house and all the surrounding trees. There was not a neighbour, car, or person in view. She stood motionless while he entertained himself with her ass cheeks. He lifted them, pushed them inwards, spread them outwards, squeezed and pinched them. She was extremely tense. She didn’t like facing away from him, not being able to see what he was going to do. He stood up and pressed his chest against her back, nuzzling her neck, and reaching around between her thighs, toyed with her a little more. Then he got her to face him again, kissing her. He picked her up, and carried her toward the house. Her arms were still behind her back, and he was squeezing her naked ass under his hands.
He carried her inside, hugging her tightly, and burying his face in her hair. He let her drop so suddenly, she barely managed to keep on her feet. He closed the door, then looked at her, waiting. She stood frozen, and slowly took in her surroundings, blinking rapidly, her face quivering. The place was a mess. There were beer cans and bottles, mangy-looking furniture, cigarette butts on the coffee table, junk all over the room. In the corner there was a filthy, stained mattress on the floor. She started crying. The full hideous realization of her situation and filth of the place overwhelmed her.
She risked glancing at him through her tears. He had been standing by the door waiting. He approached nearer and nearer, until he was very close. He brushed his hands up and down her arms. She could feel herself begin to panic. She couldn’t breathe. She wanted to escape but didn’t know how. He was looking down at her heavily, feeling her arms.
“Don’t worry, I won’t push you too hard too fast, hey? It doesn’t have to be bad. I can make it feel good. I mean, it’s up to you how much it’s going to hurt.”
She made a queer sobbing sound when he pulled out his pocket knife from his jeans. He cut the shoelaces off her wrists and freed her hands. She didn’t know how sore they were until now.
“If you try to run, I will catch you and hurt you real bad,” he said, massaging the nape of her neck, and pressing his forehead to hers. He backed her up against the mattress. He sat her down, and stood in front of her. He began unbuckling his belt. “Have you ever been raped?”
She shook her head, almost sobbing.
“Abused when you were a kid—an uncle, brother, cousin, father, friend of the family?”
She kept shaking her head.
“Shit. You got off lightly. Most women I know have been fucked up one way or another. Take off your blouse for me.”
She looked up at him. “Please, don’t do this. Let me go.”
He slapped her in the side of the head. She put her hands up as if she had been half-deafened, but she remained obstinately uncooperative. He crouched down, and grabbed her wrist. He took hold of one of her fingers as if he would snap it. She cried out and clutched his hand, terrified he was going to break her finger.
“If you keep pissing me off, you’ll be leaving here disfigured, or dead. Take off your top,” he said. He let her go and she held her hand. Then slowly she pulled the rest of her blouse out from her skirt waistband, and undid the rest of the buttons. She stopped and looked at him pleadingly, and dropped her hands to her sides.
“Take it all the way off,” he said.
She reluctantly slid the light blouse off her shoulders, and held it scrunched in her hands, not looking at him. He stood massaging his erection while he watched.
“The bra.”
She reached behind her back, and found her bra hooks, and pulled them apart. She let the bra slip off, resisting the urge to cover her exposed breasts.
“Oh, yeah,” she heard him sigh. “Now your skirt. Stand up. Give me your bra.”
She handed him her black lace bra. He examined it, feeling it, and pressing it to his face, inhaling her perfume which should have been for Cameron. Then he took her arm and helped her to stand. The adrenaline combined with the fatigue from the long flight made her unsteady. Her skirt was still bunched up around her waist. He put his hands on her bare breasts, feeling them, while she unbunched her skirt so she could get to her zip. He reached behind her and stopped her hand. He wanted to do it. He slowly unzipped her and pulled the skirt all the way down her legs. She stepped out of it, and he kicked it aside. Other than her heels she was entirely naked.
He hugged her tightly, pulling her toward him, her arms hanging at her sides. Her face lay in the crook of his neck. His bare chest was warm, but with an animal heat, and his chest hair was slightly course against her bare breasts.
“You feel so good,” he said quietly, rubbing himself against her. He brushed her blonde hair away from her face. “Kiss me nicely, better than last time.” She glanced away, and he held her tighter. “Make me feel good, or I’ll make you hurt.”
She touched his mouth in a kiss, and her lips parted slightly, gently moving over his. She was very hesitant, with a soft, lingering touch, a little slow. He kept his hand deeply in her hair, and gave a small tug to show he expected more. She tried to keep her lips soft, pliable, her tongue meeting his. His hands went all over her body, cupping and squeezing her breasts, stroking her sides, and fondling between her legs. She kept kissing him, her tongue circling and playing with his. She pushed herself into the kiss, summoning all her strength to keep it going.
Finally, he broke off. They both were breathing heavily. “Get on your knees,” he said.
She kneeled down carefully. Her face was pale and grim. She knew what was coming next. He made her lean forward, and pressed her closed lips to the tip of his dick. She held it lightly in her mouth, and he guided her lips over it, up and down.
“Open your mouth and suck it!”
She gave him more pressure, warmer, sucking him awkwardly. He brushed her hair backwards with his fingers as she worked on him.
“Come on. You said it was going to be the best I’d ever had,” he said. He sucked his breath through his teeth and sighed deeply. “Do you do this for your boyfriend?”
She nodded, then paused to swallow a little bit and wipe her mouth.
“Keep sucking it,” he said. “It’s going to fuck you soon. Oh, yeah, make me feel good. It’s feeling good now.” He gathered her hair up into a ponytail to keep it out of the way. “Do you love it? Do you love me fucking your mouth?”
She nodded “yes,” and kept sucking.
“Oh, my god. Oh, baby, yes. Don’t stop.” He slouched towards her, holding her by her hair, guiding her head and mouth. He was getting harder, more aggressive. “You’re going to make me fucking come so fast, baby. You’re making me want to come already, you know that?” She pressed her hands on his thighs trying to control the depth a little, as he lunged into her mouth.
He suddenly pulled out, and pushed her backwards onto the filthy mattress. She instinctively brought her arms and legs up to protect herself, but he fell on her and pushed them aside. He held her hands out of the way, enjoying her breasts something fierce, kissing them, licking them, sucking them.
She lay still, wincing occasionally. He got quite rough, taking each delicate nipple in turn in his mouth and sucking. She couldn’t get out from underneath him, but pushed and pressed against his shoulders. He bit her breast and made her scream as if an electric shock went through her. He was going to rip her fucking nipples off!
“Settle down, settle down!” He restrained her until she was quiet again, panting and squirming, beneath him. He eased off, and soothingly licked her sore nipples. He kissed her some more, grinding himself against her. The cold metal of his zipper kept touching her, making her shiver. She was staring away at the wall, and he was energetically nuzzling her hair, kissing her, licking her ears, and whispering what he was going to do to her. He kept pushing the fly of his jeans out of the way, then decided to get up and take his jeans off altogether.