Chapter 1
Copyright © [2021] [Michael Harper]
All rights reserved. No portion of this book, story, or concept may be reproduced in any form without permission from the writer, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact the author directly.
He was five-foot-nine, with mocha-colored skin. He kept a well-maintained short beard that highlighted his face in a sexy fashion. His hair was close-cropped and smelled of shea butter and a wet forest. His brown eyes sparkled when the sun hit them because they were light and had hazel flecks.
His expression right now was all I could focus on. It wasn’t the painful sting of my soon-to-be ex-friend ripping through my vagina forcefully. My tears fell silent as he grunted with each stroke he gave. Although I wanted to soak in a bleach bath because of this violation, I kept my sanity by looking at the ceiling over his shoulder.
The fury in those damn gorgeous eyes gave me the courage to hold on for a moment longer. Then with swift violence, the weight was removed, and I felt his member remove from his lust.
I hated him. God damn, I hated him.
But I hated my body more. It didn’t remain dry, closed off, frozen. I had willed my body to be a corpse. Let him fuck a piece of dry-rotted wood, rather than my flesh.
Instead, another restless night. Another fucking.
This goddamn motherfucker didn’t give a damn that I was limp. That I laid unresponsive as he tore into my pussy. How he pawed and twisted my breasts. He held my ribcage and pulled my body into his thrusting pelvis.
I felt his hot breath along my throat and heard him growling in my ear.
Goddammit!
Get the fuck off me!
His deceiving eyes sparkled in the moonlight. His full lips, lips that have tortured me in so many ways, turned upwards in a wicked smile. He loved shoving his meaty cock into my body. And I hated every fucking moment.
I hated the fact that my body responded to his assault. This savagery. A beastly fucking that was more animal than tender.
Dear heavens above, his body stands exposed before me. Not an ounce of clothing to hide his shame... or to shield me from my wickedness.
I despised this motherfucker, because the Lord did not lie when he said the devil was beautiful. I was the thirsty bitch who had summoned him to my apartment. I heard him chuckle on the phone when I called his ass... again. Why did I do that?
The first time was a mistake!
He even told me he remembered the calls and direct messages. Spelling is hard when you get caught in a Freudian misspeaking embarrassment. When I’d come to his door, he chastised me that this was nowhere near the first time.
I fucking hate this bastard. Even all the times after the first. What were they? I don’t know... slips of nature?
I can’t bear to stare into his eyes. His eyes pierced through me, yet tempted me with their beauty. I glance towards my bed, my eyes lingering on the crucifix. I feel strong when I look at my Savior.
I shouldn’t have summoned --
Oh, oh, oh, oh... fuuuuuuucccccckkkkk... oh Godddd
He’s fucking my cervix. It fucking hurts like hell. That’s what this is. Hell.
He’d come up to me as soon as I opened the door. He pinned me against the wall and had his chest pressed against mine. His face inches away from me. I can feel his unholy length resting against my thighs.
I told him I shouldn’t have called him. He said I did because it means I want his company. His presence.
Did I fucking just moan, or did I imagine that?
He dragged a long, flat tongue across the side of my tit to my nipple. It grew erect at the impact.
Instead of recoiling away, my treacherous body leans into the thick appendage. Even my mind betrays me as it resurfaces images of nights long past.
I fucking despise him. This vile creature. He must have tricked me. Poisoned my mind with sinful thoughts -
I’m a good girl. A great woman. Normal.
I vote. I march with my community. I am gracious to my neighbors. I work for my money. I try not to put no thoughts... no temptations... into me that weren’t already there.
Fuuuucccckkkk. My clitoris slides along his veiny dick. Did I moan again? Why the fuck won’t he stop? I don’t give him any reason to continue. I want his assault to end. Just spill his baby seed, and I’ll plan B the motherfucker. God, I hope this bastard doesn’t have an STD. I hate needles. I hate taking pills. The drugs fuck with my head, and I hate being groggy.
His hand palms down the front of my pussy. I don’t know whether to feel ashamed of how wet I am or how easily my body submits under his touch. Oh... Ahhhh.... lies..... ugh...
I have never forgotten that first night together. Undressing for me. Kneeling before me the same way I knelt in prayer. How I took his cock in my sweet, holy mouth. That same mouth pleaded to the heavens as he took me repeatedly.
I remember that was a chilly night, and I had opened all the windows. Coolness became a natural part of the apartment. I loved that. I usually sleep better when there is a breeze. I lay there feeling the cold air press against my nightwear. How I enjoyed how a chill feels against my body, especially when the wind circles around my nipples until they are hard and poke through my clothes. I like the feeling of air racing up and down my stomach. It feels like someone blows and caresses me as I lie over the cool blanket.
I usually experience it alone.
I blame myself for giving this asshole my information. To call him. I don’t think I did it of my own free will.
His hand reaches inside my pussy. Rough fingers grip me, and I can’t help but buck into the touch when he strokes me.
He had become my friend. Now...
Ohhhh shhhhiiiiittttt.....
My hips move on their own, seeking release in this vile demon’s hands.
In this sordid defilement, he teaches my body what my church denies me.
Yes... God, yes!
I don’t even care that I used the Lord’s name in vain. Use that name to plead for such a sinful act. The demon was right. I want this, just like I’ve wanted it all those times before.
I gasp in surprise as he pulls my ass and arches my back. Trickles of wetness develop from my body’s excitement between my opened legs.
I feel his caress on the side of my neck, stroking my skin. I close my eyes to block him out. I sighed. When will he fucking stop fucking?
Again, as the demon-possessed motherfucker moves, I move with him.
I was too stiff. Dry. Unresponsive. Nonconsenting.
I shiver as I feel a coldness that wasn’t in the room moments ago, and that’s when I realize my heart is pounding. This experience became pleasurable. Arousing me weirdly. The feeling of his manhood and the smell of him made my body want to fuck him senseless. No. I cannot encourage this man. That should be the last thing on my mind.
The bed creaks.
