JOHN
That ass I was fantasizing about? The one I told you I never saw naked? Well, I'm looking right at it, and it's naked. It's naked, and full, and occupied with a single finger. Unblemished pale skin smooths over two perfect, round surfaces that separate down the middle and expose the two, tight, pink openings between them. Her spandex leggings are pulled down, and the waistband digs into the bottom of her cheeks, pushing her perfect ass upward. Her palm presses against a single cheek, imprinting delectable creases of supple flesh, hinting at the texture of the skin, and the fat beneath it. Her pinky occupies her anus, moving slowly in and out, expanding the spokes that ring it ever so slightly. Three fingers push ardently into the glistening lips of her womanhood, gently opening her petals and exposing the delectable pink flesh inside. She's moaning something under her breath that I can't hear. She's shifting back and forth on her knees, her ass spreading wide with every retreat, revealing everything she's doing to herself.
Reader, don't judge me. I know the gentlemanly thing would be to slowly back up, and then make some noise at the far end of the locker room to alert her that someone is here, but that no one saw her. But I'm not a gentleman. I'm a depraved, borderline desperate man, and this is just too much. My primal instincts kick in, flooding my brain with single-minded determination. I am going to fuck this woman.
ALICE
The sound of footsteps grow in my ears. They're behind me, and they're coming closer! I whip my head around, my eyes widening as I realize I've been caught. I catch a glimpse of tan, muscled skin coming behind me, and I open my mouth to say something, anything that could explain this. Before my vision can focus, before I even have time to say a thing, strong hands are upon me.
A muscular, veiny forearm wraps itself tightly around my neck. A man's hand sinks into the pale fat of my ass. My throat lurches out a constricted scream for help, but it's too quiet. It's too late. My fear of embarrassment was misplaced; I should have been afraid of something far worse.
I'm lifted up and pressed against the lockers. My left cheek pushes against the cold metal, my full breasts deform from my pressing body, my pelvis is forced against the rigid grate. His breath is hot on my neck, his sand-paper stubble brushes coarsely against my soft skin. His hard body presses against my back, and I feel the rigid thing throbbing against my tailbone.
"Stop!" I manage to squeak out.
He doesn't answer me. He loosens the grip on my neck, but catches my wrists before I can deliver an elbow to his face. He secures the other hand, and then both my palms are pinned flat against the locker just above my head. His lifted arms deliver the smell of his musk into my nostrils, and some primal sense in my mind revels in it. He kicks my foot to the side, spreading my legs wide for him. I feel his throbbing cock sliding down the base of my spine and split the crease of my ass. His rigid heat brushes past my puckered rim, and an involuntary shudder runs through me. He continues forward, splitting the wet lips of my pussy with his cock, drenching his length with my juices. Back and forth he goes, teasing the entrance, forcing my body to betray my mind and release more of my nectar for him. I whimper in fear and a touch of arousal. The latter alarms me…I can't be enjoying this, can I?
Before the thought has time to fester, the man makes his move. His cock pushes my tender petals inward, and then drives his full length into me. It courses through my womanhood, reaching untouched skin deep inside of me. A moment of physical pain is accompanied by a torrent of emotional agony. I just lost my virginity by getting raped in the men's locker room. I cry out in dismay, but the new feeling of something so hard and so warm, so deep inside me, stops my breath mid-scream. New nerves that have never been touched are now crying out their glee from my insides. My tight erogeneity seems to open up for the man raping me. I struggle against the conflict of my body and mind, and try to break free in a vain thrash. He holds my arms above my head easily, and then thrusts again, and again, and again.
His pelvis smacks against the fat of my ass in a fleshy rhythm. Every slap of skin-on-skin is accompanied by a pathetic whimper from myself. The sound is soft, breathy and feminine, and escapes my lips without my permission. I want to stay silent, to not give the man the satisfaction of my reaction, but I can't help it. The whimper leaves my slightly parted lips with every filling thrust; a vocalized response to the covetous stretching of my inner reaches. It's a mixture of fear and dismay, at least, I hope that's what it sounds like. Because I'm afraid I know what that sound really means, and I'm afraid he knows it too: it feels good.
JOHN
The two supple cheeks push into my pelvis with every thrust; squishing delectably about my driving body and jiggling in a slight ripple upon impact. God, that ass feels good against me. I've never been in a pussy this tight before. If I didn't know better, I'd think this girl was a virgin. Her pussy grips me like a vice with every motion of my hips; her lower lips stretching from her pelvic floor as I pull out, and hugging inward as I thrust forward. She's whimpering softly beneath her breath as I drive into her, and her pathetic feminine tones awaken the hunter part of my brain; the part that says to drive harder and faster. So, I do, my hands still securing hers above her head, my chest and abs pressed against her spandex-clad back, my hips pounding relentlessly against the sweet, soft fat that gives way to me with every drive. The locker she's pressed against starts to rattle with the force of my thrusts. Her breathing turns to soft panting as the exertion of the sex takes hold of her. Her blue eyes are closed tightly, the lines on her face standing out as the strain becomes apparent in her expression.
Slap, slap, slap. My pelvis smacks against her ass; my chest heaves against her back, pressing her harder against the lockers. Pant, pant, pant. Her breathing is pained and heavy; short breaths exhaled, and soft, exerted tones inhaled. She's frothing for me now, her feminine instincts compelling her body to enjoy this, to take me in, to squeeze me all the way through her. Her vaginal muscles are tense and gripping, and their hold on me is only accentuated by the spasms that now course through her. She pushes her face harder against the cold metal of the locker, and tries to hold in something; some sound that seems to want to escape from her.
Her eyebrows furrow.
Her luscious lips part.
A single, desperate tone flows from her mouth.
A moan.
ALICE
The moan rises from my chest and into my throat. I try to catch it in my mouth, but my body won't let me. It bursts from my trembling lips, betraying my true nature in a lewd revelation.
I was loving this.
The hot, throbbing member inside me drives relentlessly through my depths. I try to remain static, to keep my dignity in the face of my growing pleasure, but I can't. I try to keep my insides from contracting in glee, but the reaction is beyond my control. I tighten my inner muscles around him, and squeeze his raping instrument with covetous greed.
But this was my fantasy, wasn't it? To be taken hold of, to be used and treated as a play-thing? This was what I was thinking about when I touched myself, and now my dream has come to life.
You're aroused, Alice. the carnal side of my mind tells me, You want it like this…you want it so bad.
It's true, but fantasy and reality are often so different.
And yet, this reality mirrors your fantasy almost to the letter.
I'm being raped! I'm being forced into something I don't want!
But you do want it, the thought retorts, you're moaning and clenching for him.
It's just my body reacting to stimulus!
And it feels so good…
So good.
Accept it. Enjoy it. Revel in it. Participate in it. the thought compels me, Follow the instincts of your body, and show this man how lucky he was to stumble upon you in the locker room. It's not rape if you want it, Alice. Admit you want it.
I want it.
Now, show him how much you want it.
I don't know how to have sex. All my experience has come from porn, which is a misleading representation at best. But, if I follow the instincts of my body, and maybe add a few things I've learned from my late nights in front of the computer screen, I can play it off like I know what I'm doing. He certainly does…he knows exactly what he's doing.
All right Gym-Guy, I'll play with you.
JOHN
The side of her face I can see, the side that's not pressed against the locker, opens its eye and looks at me. The striking blue iris peeks from the corner, and regards me with a look I didn't expect. Desire. Her full, parted lips that were moaning just a moment ago, now exhale with enthusiastic cries of delight. Her pale, thick glutes clench against my pelvis, squeezing my cock like a vice as her vaginal muscles flex in turn. She starts to back into me, her hips pushing against mine, her subdued pelvis leaving its captive position against the grating of the lockers so that it can thrust back against me. My face warps into one of confusion, and hers creeps into one of mischievous lust. Those panting lips, those full, luscious lips, part in a naughty smile, and speak to me.
"Hi, I'm Alice."