The garage is dimly lit. The walls are practically dancing from the music coming from the party that's in full swing just beyond the locked door. This old suede couch? Sagging from years of use, the color fading from red to an off-pink. It's almost like it's been begging to be thrown away. Or maybe.. it's been here the whole time waiting on this moment.
Dammit mom, why didn't we let dad have his fucking couch?
“I guess,” I drunkly mumble as I slip off my H&M shirt that KyShea bought for me at the mall a few days ago. It was a little difficult to slip out of the shirt since I had so much alcohol in my system. I sat there struggling with trying to get my arms out of the shirt.
Carter grasps the collar and snatches the entire shirt over my head, banishing it to a random corner. A chill hit my bare skin and I knew right then and there this wasn't going to be pretty. He straddles me and puts his muscular arms around my neck, gun still in hand.
“You're so damn cute when you're buzzing, you know that don't you,” he whispers into the chilled air. I can smell the heat of the booze on his breath mixed with his Axe body spray. It's creating a sweet scent only familiar to us. My stomach twisted itself into knots thinking about what might come next. It did another flip when I looked into his glazed over eyes.
I wondered for a moment if he would remember this night. If he would remember that he came to my party, cock-blocked a cheerleader to get at me and then ended up practically raping me in my own garage.
I sighed, trying to will away the sick feeling I had from the alcohol trying to answer my question.
He leans in and tenderly brushes my lips with his, with his breathing slightly staggered. He knows exactly what he's doing. I lean forward and connect our mouths, which takes him by surprise. He smirks down at me and goes to pull his shirt off.
I could have easily taken the opportunity to bash his ribs in and make an escape, but something held me there on that couch. Desire, maybe. His eyes were always something I liked on him, even if he was a jerk. They were as blue as the sky when he smiled.
I avert my attention back to him, more specifically his abs, They look so damn yummy at the moment. I lean in and begin to suck on one of his erect nipples, flicking it back and forth with my tongue. He groans in pleasure and runs his free hand down my back. I begin to nibble at it slightly. He sucks in the cold air and chokes on it for a moment. I giggle and lean back onto the couch.
“Okay big boy,” I say, starting to sober up, “if you're going to fuck me you might as well go ahead and do it. I don't have time for fancy shit.”
He cocks an eyebrow at me and gets off of me. Suddenly I felt cold again. He stands up, putting his gun on the arm of the couch, and pulls his designer jeans down, leaving his blue and red stripped boxers. Carter's thick cock made his boxers tent obscenely. He flexed it and I took that as my hint to get undressed.
Just as I went for the button on my own jeans, I see his hands grab the bottom of my pants and he tugs harshly, effectively pulling them clean off of me. He then pulls my purple boxer-briefs off and pulls me to my feet. He stoops down and kisses me, this time attempting to use tongue.
I manage to get my hands onto his well defined chest and push him again. He steps forward, grabbing my waist and tosses me onto the couch face down. The cold air makes me shiver slightly.
“Try some shit like that again and I'll blow your pretty little head off,” he yells at me. I cringe.
Suddenly, I feel 200 pounds pounce onto me from behind and something stiff rub against my ass. The warmth of his body relaxes me a tad bit. Without warning, I feel him tear into my ass. The searing pain makes me scream as if I had just witnessed a bloody murder.
I begin to go in and out of consciousness from the pain, but the whole time I feel every thrust he takes as he fucks me with his 8-inch boner. As he tears my ass in half, he slaps each cheek a few times, and even pulls my hair.
What usually would be a turn on wasn't doing it for me at the moment. I couldn't even get my own boner going.
After what seems like hours, but was really about 30 minutes, I feel him take a final thrust and he collapses on top of me. The cooling effect of his cum soothed the innermost parts of me that were burning from the assault.
He's out like a lightbulb.
I squeeze out from under his heavy frame and hit the floor with a thud. I look at his sleeping form, disgusted but strangely satisfied. Would he remember this? I feel cum and blood dribble slowly down the back of my thigh.
I grab towels and attempt to clean myself up, wincing at every wipe I take. I get dressed up and decide to leave him where he laid. Before leaving I take his gun and wrap it up into one of the towels I used and put it into a plastic bag, hiding it under the couch in a box.
The garage heated up considerably compared to 45 minutes ago.
I make my way over to the door, trying to conceal the throbbing pain I had in my lower back and rectum. I pause and take one last look at him.
I've never wanted someone to hurt and be happy so badly.
