Erin eyes me suspiciously before turning back to the television. The rest of the night was spent in a haze. My eyes grew heavy as the hours passed and my grading accumulated on my lap. By 10, I was asleep on the couch, tucked under a throw blanket Erin threw on top of me as I fell in and out of consciousness.
Suddenly, there is a knock on my door, a pounding of fists and a scream of shouts. The voice is deep like thunder, and it echoes through the empty house. I call out for Erin to get it, but she is nowhere in sight. I’m alone – completely, utterly alone.
I stand up and walk behind the couch. Something tells me I should run – or at least hide. But before I can move myself from my place, the door opens, light bursting inside. I shriek as I peer into the face of a man. He’s got a wild, unbridled look in his eyes that tells me exactly what he wants.
I turn to run, but he reaches towards me, scooping me in his arms and pulling me close. His large hands run through my wavy hair, untangling each curl as they go. He’s gentle, too gentle as he dips me back slightly for a slow, deep kiss. Our lips touch and everything inside of me becomes warm like melted caramel.
I place a hand on his chest to push him off, but my body has seemed to be taken over by his spells. They are slowly unbuttoning his flannel red and black shirt and then pulling it off his large, muscular arms. My fingers follow the lines of his red, black, and gray tattoos as if they are a roadmap.
They lead to his hands, my tiny fingers engulfed by his as he leads my hands and arms above my head. He lets go and moves to my dress. One hand lowers down and picks the hemline up. In one swift move, the dress is off, and I’m more exposed than I've been in a long time to any man, let alone this one.
I have the urge to run. This isn’t right. He shouldn’t be here in my house, in my life. He shouldn’t be seeing me in my white panties and bra with my skin glowing in the light from the still open door. But he senses my hesitation and pulls me back into him. This time, he kisses me hard and fast. My head can barely keep up with his movements as he tosses it to and from the side, attempting to explore every angle of my mouth.
His hand rests on my bare shoulder and then pushes it hard. I fall backwards onto the couch in a thud with him landing on top of me. I cry out again to Erin. I’m not sure why, though. Every part of me wants him like this. And as he slips down the side of my bra strap down my shoulder and over the soft skin of my shoulder using his mouth, I go silent. His lips head back towards my chest where he pecks gently at me, a total contrast from his kiss just seconds ago.
His mouth leaves a trail towards my breasts. With his teeth, he bites into my bra, pulling the cup down and exposing my full mountains to his open mouth. I watch as a bit of his tongue flickered towards my nipple, catching the very tip with a dab of his mouth. My hips and chest rise towards him, wanting more. He goes to the other side, repeating the same motion. His tongue softly planting itself for a millisecond, just enough for me to feel the wetness of his mouth.
I shout out, unable to control myself. He places a hand over my mouth and a finger to his lips as he quiets me. His hand keeps me silent as he goes down farther, this time taking the entire nipple into his mouth. I feel his tongue swirling around the tip of me. And then, his teeth. They gently bite down on the most sensitive nerves as I gasp and my hips flex upwards towards him, sliding up against his hard cock still concealed in his jeans.
He comes up for air, a smile growing across his darkened face. He looks at me and says huskily, “Are you gonna be good?”
“No.” I find myself replying. “I’m not a good girl.”
He contradicts me, “You’re a good girl. And good girls like you do as you’re told.”
“I’m not a good girl. I’m not.” I want to argue with him. I don’t want him to tell me what to do. I want to take the lead.
He looks at me, his eyebrow shooting upwards as he studies my annoyed face. “Fine, but bad girls get punished.” His arms move to my side, whipping my own arms upwards and pinning them in place with one of his large hands. His other hand unhooks the belt and pulls it through his belt loops. He ties the leather around my hands, hooking them in place. I struggle against him, but he’s strong. Way too strong.
With my arms stuck above my head, I begin to kick, trying to fight my way off of the couch. But he slides his pants off quickly and straddles me. I can feel the cold skin of his cock press down on my stomach as he strokes my chin with his hands. He whispers to me, “Stop, Michelle. I’ll give you what you want.”
And as he forces my legs apart, I stop my thrashing and kicking to feel the sensation as his large, strong cock slowly enters me centimeters at a time. It is what I want. It was what I was fighting for.