“You—you can take my phone, and my laptop. My purse, too, and I’ve got a lot of cash in my wallet. Just take it and go. I won’t be able to call the police, because you’ll have my phone. So you could get away.”
“I’m going to get away just fine.” Jonah straddles me, his erection clearly straining at the fabric of his black sweatpants. I can feel his balls against my belly; they’re tight, ready. “You don’t get away. You do what I tell you.”
“Please don’t. Please.”
“Will you ask me politely?” Jonah’s hands find my breasts—both exposed now as he plays with them, squeezing hard, then soft, then hard again. He tugs at one nipple, forceful enough to make me whine.
“What—what do you—”
“We’ll make a deal.” He leans over; I realize he’s seen the scarf I left out for him. “If you can suck me off, I won’t put it in your cunt.”
Next time, I’m going to come in your mouth. I want him to. But I want to get fucked too.
“No,” I say. “I won’t do it, I won’t—”
Jonah slams down on top of me, hard enough to make me cry out in genuine shock. “You don’t get to say what you will and won’t do. That’s not what this is about.”
I’m shaking so hard. My panties are soaked. I want to cross my legs, just cross them, because I think I could come by merely clenching my thighs.
Yet I keep fighting. I thrash beneath him, frenzied enough to make him swear in what sounds like genuine frustration. Then Jonah grabs the scarf. I think he’ll tie my hands, but instead he winds the scarf around my throat. One hand closes around the fabric right in front of my windpipe as he tugs me off the bed with the other, until I tumble off the bed onto the floor.
I use my feet to push myself away from him, but Jonah drags me back and slaps my face again. The very real pain brings tears to my eyes, but it only sharpens the desperate hunger inside me. His grip on the scarf around my neck strengthens.
“You fight me, I’ll tie this tighter,” he says. “Are you done?”
I nod, defeated. All I can do now is lie on the floor and wait for whatever Jonah has planned next.
His cheek is flushed from where I struck him. My face must be too.
As I pant for breath, my exposed breasts rising and falling with each gasp, Jonah starts going through my nightstand. To my astonishment—and embarrassment—he pulls out my dildo.
My lone sex toy. It was a gift from Geordie. We tried using it a time or two, but mostly it made us crack up laughing. It’s been languishing at the back of the drawer for months.
“You don’t get enough dick?” Jonah says as he inspects it. The thickness and length of the hot pink silicone would intimidate most men, but Jonah puts that toy to shame. “Well, you’re gonna get some tonight. You’re gonna take it all.”
“Please,” I beg. He likes it when I beg. “Please, no.”
“I said, you’re going to take it.”
That’s when he pushes down the front of his black sweatpants, revealing his erection—blood dark, fully stiff, jutting out at me and wanting release.
He’s even more turned on than I am. I didn’t think that was possible.
Jonah shoves one of my legs up until my knee nearly touches my chin. Now my crotch is exposed, and his hand closes around that wet strip of my panties and pulls it aside. Two of his fingers push inside, and I whimper. He won’t stop for a condom this time; this will be the first time he fully feels how wet he makes me. How hot.
“Not enough for you, huh? You want some cock?”
“No—”
“No? You don’t? Too bad I don’t give a damn what you want. Shut the fuck up before I shut you up.”
Jonah lowers himself over me and pushes inside.
“Oh, God,” I whisper against the floor as he starts to thrust. Though I try to brace myself against the floor, every move he makes rocks me. My legs splay open wider, as if that will somehow make my body ready for the enormous length and girth of him. Nothing could do that. “Please—please—”
“Please more?” Jonah shoves himself in harder, and I cry out. “Or do you like the deal I gave you? Are you ready to suck me off yet?”
“No—”
“Then take it.”
Jonah starts giving it to me good. This angle makes it harder for me to get fully stimulated, but the fantasy is so good that it pushes me the rest of the way. And the images—the muscles of Jonah’s abdomen and pelvis working with every thrust, the thatch of dark hair above his cock, the grimace of ecstasy on his face—
Within seconds I’m panting; within two minutes, I’m at the brink. When Jonah thrusts even deeper inside, the sensation arcs inside me, cunt to heart to brain, and I can’t hold it back. The world turns upside down, inside out, and I come, moaning desperately as I clench around Jonah’s cock.
He knows what he’s done to me—he always does—but he says, “You ready to suck me off yet? Or you want to get fucked some more?”
I don’t answer. The breath won’t return to my lungs. I lie dazed, openmouthed, against the floor.