Lightning streaks across the dark and stormy sky followed by the booming roll of thunder. Approaching sirens wail as smoke plumes higher and higher in the distance to join the roiling stormclouds. The chaos seems to freeze with every brief flash of light as if the angry sky was taunting the frantic people with its immensity and power.
A man darts off the side of the road launching into a slide through the slick grass behind some overgrown shrubs. An escaped convict. Rainwater drips from the branches above to snake an icy path down his spine while he waits. The ground grows more slick with mud by the second as the sky drenches the parched earth. Impeccable timing for a torrential downpour.
First responders speed by in streaks of flashing red, white and blue. The man hiding in the bushes sinks lower to the ground, dropping to his belly despite the rivulets soaking into his jumpsuit. Even with the chilling rain and mud clinging to him, the rugged man can’t help but laugh to himself. The authorities are fucked. It will be hours before anyone realizes he’s gone and a full day at least before a proper search can be organized. Once the whining echo of the last ambulance is all that’s left of the stream of emergency vehicles, he bolts from cover down the empty road. It won’t be too long until he gets into town, then he can really disappear. Maybe he’ll find a place to lay low until the worst of the storm passes, though not too long. He won’t be going back behind bars. He’s finally free again and the rush of it hums in every part of his body.
My eyes dart open with a jolt. Thunder rumbles so loudly the windows shake. I usually love storms. As a child, I could spend hours just watching the rain fall, beating down onto the earth and soaking the world with a refreshing drink. My folks would often wonder out loud with amusement how odd it was that while other children flinched or groaned at the aggressive weather, it was one of the few moments that seemed to quiet my worries and nervous fidgeting. Rainstorms have always soothed me from the never-ending pressures and anxieties my mind fixated on, but tonight my nerves are rattling for reasons I can’t pin down. I take a deep, calming breath and try to ease back into sleep, but a flash of light through my eyelids and another window-shaking roll of thunder keeps me rooted in full consciousness. I guess I’m awake for now.
Rubbing a hand over my eyes, I sit up and slip my feet into my slippers. The little sleep I managed to get was restless. I look out my window where I can see the streets flooding due to the storm. The street drains are already overwhelmed. The relief I feel at the possibility I might not be able to make it to work in the morning has me nearly in tears. God, I hate my skewed work-life balance. It used to be manageable to leave work at the office. Then the workload started piling up. New clients, new accounts, new projects. Never new hires. I’ve been burning the candle at both ends. Every task is urgent, every email demands an immediate response, every person with a sliver of seniority demands flawless performance. I just need to be able to breathe. Another rumble of thunder moves through me, soothing in its familiar power.
My plush robe is another added comfort to my jumpy nerves, keeping me cozy as I make my way downstairs. I don’t bother with the lights to avoid that disorienting adjustment to sudden brightness. The living room oddly feels a little chillier than usual. Goosebumps dance down my limbs despite the robe. Is the power out? Dread turns in my stomach as I shuffle over to check the thermostat, then I hear the heater click on.
“Thank god,” I murmur to myself before making my way over to the couch and clicking on the TV.
“-barricades among the chaos of the recent explosion though authorities report the storm is making efforts difficult. We have a correspondent on the scene for a better picture of what has just transpired,” the late night newscaster reports before the screen shifts to a man huddling against the storm in front of a scene that can only be described as utter mayhem. Flashing lights from emergency vehicles highlight the officers and firefighters racing around in the background in their attempt to get the fire and everyone impacted under control. Men in jumpsuits are either being cuffed or loaded into the back of ambulances with bloody bandages and oxygen masks before being sped away to the nearest hospital. I sit forward in my seat as the headline “Prison Break: Convicts At Large, Manhunt In Progress” scrolls across the screen.
“There is utter pandemonium down here at the Eastbrook Haven Correctional Facilities. Authorities are still trying to uncover exactly what happened tonight but it’s clear an explosion of unknown origin tore through the east wing of the facility giving some inmates a prime opportunity to make an escape. Now authorities are still trying to gather an accurate estimate of how many inmates are missing but police are advising everyone to be wary and call in any suspicious activity to the tip line on screen. Some witnesses-”
I mute the TV to sit in stunned silence as everything sinks in. A prison break? Could tonight get any more intense? To ease my spiking anxiety, I check the lock on the front door. A quick jiggle reassures me the door knob is locked just like always. I even double check the deadbolt before letting out a deep sigh and chuckling to myself in relief. No need to catastrophize. Then, because my jittery brain can’t seem to give myself a break, I think of the backdoor and can’t remember locking it. Before I even reach the doorknob, I see the wet, muddy footprints on the doormat. Instantly, cold fear spears through me and I take a reflexive step back, bumping into something solid. No. Someone.
“Scream and it will be the last sound you make,” a low voice growls in my ear. A thick arm wraps across my chest, pining my arms to my side and a pinpick pressure needles my throat. A shaky whimper spills from my lips, but I don’t dare make a noise any louder.
“Good boy,” the man rumbles, sending a wave of dread through my body. He almost sounds as amused as he does threatening, like he’s enjoying this. Maybe that’s just my terror playing tricks on me. Adrenaline surges though my body making my limbs tingle. My heart pounds against my ribs. I don’t want to consider if he’s going to kill me, but what was in store for me if he doesn’t? He’s not going to just let me walk away. His hold on me tightens. His warm breath fans across my ear.
“I’m going to need to borrow some clothes. Let’s take this upstairs, yeah?” I can hear the smirk in his voice and a shiver trembles through me. The amusement wasn’t a trick of my brain. He finds pleasure in my fear. There’s no chance to respond before he’s pushing me towards the stairs. His hold across my chest drops to pin my arms behind my back and secure my wrists in one solid grasp. Without having even seen him yet, I can tell that he’s powerful.
Letting him into my room feels like a violation. Letting him, as if I have a choice. My most intimate space being trespassed is both terrifying and infuriating. The man shoves me to the bed forcing me to my stomach and wrenches my robe off my shoulders. I cry out from the rough handling, but the knife point against my back silences me again.
“Another sound and I carve you up and let someone find you long after I’m gone,” he says to me frigidly. The amusement from earlier is gone, replaced by bored apathy. I can’t stop trembling. Even if I wanted to scream, I don’t think I could. My throat feels tight and tense from fear. The knife pulls away from my back, though I don’t dare move. Face pressing against the bedding, every muscle tense in anticipation of what was to come, I hear the faint ruffling of fabric before rough hands secure my wrists together and the strap of my robe is being wrapped around them tightly.
“Can’t have you getting any ideas while you’re helping me out.” The amusement is back and the creep has the nerve to snicker at his own sick tease. A brief flash of anger bubbles through me until he turns me onto my back and hauls me into a sitting position against the headboard with my arms pinned painfully behind me. His strength and the ease at which he hauls me around brings my fear front and center again.
“W-what are you going to do to me?” I stammer out. He’s a tank of a man with his soaked jumpsuit stretching across his broad shoulders and brawny chest. His dark hair is buzzed short intensifying his intimidating glare. What terrifies me most is his eyes. Even though he’s scowling down at me, there’s an energy to his gaze. A thrill. He’s letting me see his face. The realization sends me into a spiral, my breathing picking until I start to hyperventilate. He’s not going to let me walk away from this.
“None of that, princess,” he admonishes condescendingly while turning to rummage through my dresser. I look out my window, rain beating against the glass, and consider if anyone would hear me scream. If he’s going to kill me anyway, I should try. A bright flash of lightning and a roll of thunder drown out that idea. If anyone was up at this hour, they would never hear my cries for help. Even if by some miracle a neighbor could hear my screams, I would only earn myself a knife to my chest. Just as the harrowing reality of my helplessness sinks in, his hulking form is back in front of me, filling my vision. A large hand grips my jaw roughly and a pair of boxers is stuffed into my mouth.
“Be good and I don’t have to hurt you. I’m sure the cops will have my picture out soon, but I plan to be long gone by then. Let’s see what you have for me here.” He opens up the top drawers and rifles through them. “Hmm, a little small for me. Oh… this is nice.” He holds up a deep green micro-brief for me to see while making a show of stretching the fabric. I bought it ages ago thinking it’d make me feel hot, but I just felt silly wearing it. Hanging my head, I squeeze my eyes shut to the embarrassment and shame burning through me. This nightmare is as humiliating as it is terrifying.
The zzzt-zzzt-zip of a zipper being tugged down snaps my gaze back up. This man, this criminal, is stripping off his soaked jumpsuit in front of me. Slowly, his ruined uniform peels off his body revealing miles of firm muscle covered in dark body hair and crisscrossing scars in various stages of healing. His most recent scar, clean and dark pink, slices from the crook of his neck across to his collarbone. Who dealt that blow? Did the man in front of me deserve it? In spite of the worrying questions dancing through my panicky brain, my cheeks warm at the sight of his broad chest and flexing abs. The dark fur coating his body clings to every outline of muscle with the moisture of the storm, creating a path downward for my eyes to follow. After staring wide-eyed at his body for far too long, I finally notice his eyes are fixed on me. Familiar dark energy radiates off of him again, made more intimidating by his near nakedness.
“Like what you see, boy?” He asks me with a smirk. I shake my head vigorously and shift higher up the bed in a feeble attempt to put more distance between us. My shoulders are starting to ache from the position my arms are trapped in, but I want to get as far away from him as possible. He just laughs at my pathetic attempt to evade him and pulls his jumpsuit down his tree trunk thighs. His soaked underwear clings to his body tight around his thighs and cupping his bulge. He’s fucking hard. And big. The outline of his length angles down his inner thigh, thick and heavy. I swallow nervously around my gag, my gaze transfixed on the beast between his legs. He has to be eight inches at least.
“I think you do,” he tells me as his fingers curl around his girth to give himself a slow rub. “That little tent in your shorts seems to like it.” Looking down in horror, I register my own throbbing erection tenting my boxers for the first time. I smack my head back against the headboard with a groan. The sharp pain is a welcome punishment for my body’s betrayal. Fear, shame, and arousal battle for dominance in my psyche and my body alike. The intruder peels off his underwear, letting his heavy cock bob unrestrained in front of him. His dick only adds to his menacing presence. With a cocky grunt, he grips his base and gives himself a little shake. Three silver barbell piercings stud along the underside of his shaft highlighting his considerable length. The silver catches the light of a flashing lighting bolt. My mouth goes dry even as my dick throbs. He slowly walks around the bed to my side where I’m cowering away with my heartbeat pounding like a deafening drum in my ears. He just grasps me by the jaw and pulls me back, slowly looking me up and down. His eyes linger on my crotch, his lips spread in a smug smile.
“Expensive…” He muses as he settles a hand over my thigh, his thumb rubbing back and forth along the silky smooth fabric. My muscles clench instinctively and I try to squirm, but he just tightens his grip on my jaw and leg. “Fancy little fucker, aren’t you?” His hand slides up my thigh pulling the smooth fabric up higher. His gaze comes back up to my face. “Good thing you’re pretty enough for it.” Another bubble of anger pushes through the other emotions battling within me and I squirm hard under his grasp managing to push my gag out with my tongue.
“Fuck you,” I snap at him and jerk my head out of his hold on my chin. I try to kick out at him, but he just tangles his fingers into my hair and pulls my head back sharply. A whimpering gasp spills from me and I go still again.
“Mouthy, too,” he growls with a snarl like a beast on the hunt. An eternity stretches between us while I brace for violence. My eyes squeeze shut when he moves closer to drag his nose up my neck, breathing me in deeply. “Do you have any fucking idea how lonely it gets in there?” he whispers into my ear, his hand squeezing my thigh hard. A strangled groan of tormenting pleasure escapes me from the pressure of his fingers digging into my inner thigh against sensitive flesh. The wet patch at my tip grows larger still. “Day in, day out. No relief except for my damn hand?” His low voice doesn't temper his frustration. His need. It rolls off his words, vibrating from his chest. “None of those pricks were pretty enough to touch, but you? Mmmm, the things I would have done for a boy like you in that shithole.” The man takes my earlobe between his teeth and bites down just hard enough to make me whimper like a frightened puppy. Sweat glistens over my skin as my pulse races. Every muscle is pulled taut with tension. Somehow, the pressure building in my dick only grows more intense.
The man sits in the thick pool of sexual tension forming between us for a long, long time. His hold on me never falters even as he nuzzles his nose into my hair. Just as I feel like I’m about to combust from the need for something, the convict hauls my body to the edge of the bed forcing my thighs apart for him to fit into. My arms are still pinned behind me. The ache in my shoulders is the sharpest it’s been since he started manhandling me with my body pressing back on my arms. His hands rub up and down my thighs bunching my boxers around my hips. His hunger is palpable. His heavy dick looks painfully hard hovering over me dripping a steady drip of precum onto my bulge.
“I wanna fuck you so bad, baby.” he groans out. One of his hands slides up my hip to feel a path up my soft stomach. I’m not broad or hardened like he is. I’ve never been in a fight before and it shows. A violent shiver tears through me. I can’t tell if it’s because I’m afraid or because I’m so fucking turned on.
“D-don’t hurt me… please,” I beg him with tears in my eyes. I’m overwhelmed with terror, arousal, and confusion. The dull ache in my shoulders paired with the throbbing ache in my dick fuels my inner turmoil. Why am I so turned on by this?
My captor tsks at me and slides his hand up my bare chest to cup the side of my face possessively. He leans in, rubbing his cock against my bulge, earning himself a groan, and rubs his thumb across my bottom lip.
“Oh baby, I’m going to make you beg for it. You’re never gonna want me to stop.”
I try to turn away from him, to cling onto some crumb of dignity, but in my effort to put even an inch of space between us I inadvertently arch my body up and grind my cock against his. I can feel his piercings through my boxers. He hums with a cocky smile at the whimper that escapes me.
“See? I knew you wanted this.”
The man leans back giving me the space to breathe I’m so desperate for. His large hands pin me to the bed firmly by the waist. He grinds against me, pushing our hard-ons together to my twisted pleasure. My boxers were already damp from my dripping dick and now he’s adding his own pre to the mess. His hands glide up and down my body appreciatively mapping out all of my soft, smooth edges in stark contrast to his ruggedness. His thumbs brush over my nipples making my legs squeeze tighter around him.
“Oh… you like that?” He taunts me with teasing brushes of his thumbs across the sensitive nubs. I try to bite back my moans, but they tear out of my throat between rolls of thunder.
He brings his hands back down to my hips, lifting them to grind harder against me, but the shift in position makes the pain in my shoulders flare up. I gasp sharply and whine from the prickles of pain. Shockingly, he lowers me back down, eyeing me over. Then he pulls away to flip me onto my stomach. I can barely think straight through the confusing mix of submissive urges and aching sensation, but then the tension in my arms relax, freed from their bindings. I breathe a sigh of relief, whimpering a little, before being dragged up the bed with my hands against the headboard. They’re still too sore and numb for me to resist. The brute leans over me and uses the sliced up robe strap to tie my wrists to the headboard so I’m facing the wall while on my knees. I can’t see him like this and the bone chilling dread returns in full force.
“N-no! Please!” I beg him. My arms start to tingle from the sensation returning. I tug uselessly and grimace as needles of pain shoot up my nerves. His large hands grip my hips to hold me steady as he rubs himself against me from behind. He shushes me and runs a hand up my stomach back to one of my nipples.
“Shhh, baby boy, you’re going to fucking love the things I do to you.” He pulls away and the relief I feel is short lived. The cold, blunt edge of the knife presses against the back of my thigh and I freeze. Every muscle is wound tight with tension as he slowly drags the blade up, slicing through my boxers. I grip the headboard tight, my knuckles going white while my body trembles. A deep breath rattles out of me in my desperation to stay calm. The smooth fabric falls away leaving me naked. With both of us naked, there is only one place my thoughts go. Stifling a sob, I try to force relaxation into my muscles. I hope it doesn’t hurt too much. His rough hands on my ass make me twitch. Silent tears fall down my cheeks as I pray I can numb myself to whatever he’s about to do to me.
“What a perfect fucking ass,” he growls in appreciation and approval. The bed creaks as he makes his move and I choke on a scream expecting the excruciating burn of rough penetration. Instead, my body convulses from the shock of his warm, wet tongue sliding along my crack, tracing my tight hole. It’s so unexpected and feels so good I don’t hold back my sob of relief that becomes a moan as he sucks gently on my hole. The tension slowly ebbs from my muscles as he massages my ass cheeks in his rough hands and laps at my entrance like a man starved.
His stubble scratches at my sensitive skin earning desperate moan after desperate moan. My psyche is so emotionally exhausted I can’t help but give in to the pleasure. My cock aches painfully between my legs dripping steadily onto the bed. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten any sex and longer still since anyone has given my ass such fervent attention. My intruder groans into my body as he probes with his tongue. Heat rushes through me from the blood and lust coursing through my veins. The tip of his tongue teases my tight hole making my ass clench with need. My nails dig into the decorative wood of the headboard as he gently pushes deeper.
“Please… don’t…” I start to beg him to stop, but the words die in my throat with another lick of his tongue into my neglected ass. “Don’t…” Don’t stop. Keep going. Give me more. I bite my tongue before my perverse thoughts can escape my lips. I shouldn’t want this!
He pulls away with a playful bite to my ass cheek and a dark chuckle of pride. This is exactly what he wants, just what he promised. He told me he was going to make me love it.
My intruder gives my ass a playful smack earning a sharp yelp from my trembling lips. Then he presses against me, his strong arms around my torso and his broad chest against my back. His cock nestles between my ass cheeks where his piercings rub up and down my sensitive skin.
“You’re so fucking huge,” I moan out, finally giving in completely to whatever this attraction is. Maybe after all is said and done I’ll be ashamed of myself for sounding like a damn slut giving myself up to this violent stranger, but right now I just want him to use me. A rebellious voice in the back of my mind calls it self preservation. A means of surviving the night by giving him what he wants. Deep down, I know it’s a lie.
His lips suck at my neck while his fingers tease my nipples again, twisting harder than before. With every cry from the sting he hums against my neck and ruts against me harder. I’ve never been fucked by someone with a dick piercing before, let alone three, but I need it so badly my stomach twists with the desperation.
“There’s… there’s lube in the drawer… please… please just fuck me already,” I pant out around a string of groans as his teeth nip at my skin. His lips move up to nibble at my earlobe, ravenous for every little noise I make.
“Maybe I should just fuck you dry. Would you still moan like a whore for me?” He whispers hotly into my ear. The thought sends a wracking shiver through my nerves. That would hurt. A lot. But my dick throbs as persistent and needy as ever. A fresh drop of pre dribbles out of my cock. Have I always been such a masochist?
“O-okay,” I stammer out. That familiar tension swirls in my gut heightening my arousal. My intruder just laughs.
“God damn, you’re such a slut, baby.” He leans back away from me and I arch my lower back for the painful breach I had been terrified of only moments before. Instead, he pats my ass like I’m his pet before leaning over to rummage through my nightstand.
“I’ll play nice,” he grumbles with some mirth, pulling a surprised laugh from my chest.
“Such a gentleman,” I bite back with sarcasm and a hint of a smile tugging at my lips. My snark earns me a swift smack on the ass making me yelp. The heat blooming across my skin is additional fuel to the lust burning in my blood, pulsing through my cock.
“I think I like it when you get mouthy,” he tells me as he massages my ass possessively with one hand while dribbling lube between my cheeks. His fingers follow the slick fluid, rubbing around my hole where his tongue was just unraveling me. I spread my knees a little wider on the bed in capitulation to his dominance and the fiery need he ignites in me. He responds to my invitation by pushing one of his fingers deep inside me.
My hole clenches tight as he stretches me around his slick digit, milking a high pitched whine out of me. Thank god he chose to be nice. If this was just a finger, his cock would have split me in half. It still might.
“F-fuck…” I stammer out as he pumps his finger in and out. I drop my head and press forward against the headboard. My arms are burning from supporting my weight for so long though the ache begins to pale in comparison to the tingling up my spine. He’s not being gentle. The pad of his finger presses hard against my insides leaving me to pant and squirm. Every push in lights up my nerves and coaxes fresh drops of precum from my dick. I want more. I need more.
My quads flex and my hips push back to take him deeper, faster. He pushes a second finger inside my body drawing out a loud moan from deep in my chest. His free hand roams my backside, slick with sweat. Every touch is confident and self-assured like this is a game he knows he’s winning. Every stroke of my inner walls triggers my muscles to tense and tremble. He hooks them inside me, pressing firmly against my insides. The pressure alone nearly makes me cum, but as my balls tighten, he wraps his free hand around the base of my cock and squeezes hard.
“You’ll cum when I let you,” he orders with a deep growl into my ear. His fingers fuck into me with brutal plunges now that my orgasm is held hostage just like the rest of me. My head hangs low, my unending whines muffled into a pillow with my arms stretched above me tied to the headboard. There’s nothing more for me to do besides beg him for more.
“Please!” I cry out and shake from the sensory overload of his rougher treatment, my tip darkening into a desperate red flush.. “Give me that fucking dick! I need it! Please!”
Abruptly, his fingers pull out of me leaving me to clench around nothing. I wait with panting breaths for that beast of a dick, but nothing happens. Did I do something wrong? I’m on the verge of frustrated tears when he leans over me, reaches for the knife he set on the bedside table and slices through the cloth securing my wrists. Then he flips me onto my back with terrifying ease. That intoxicating mix of fear and excitement coils in my gut as he leans over me, filling my vision completely with his broad, scarred body. He guides my legs around his waist so his thick cock can rub along my lubed hole.
“Mmmm, thought I heard tears,” he growls with a hungry gleam to his eyes. The hand that was fingering me senseless reaches up to cup my face in a surprising act of tenderness. He tilts my head up and licks up my cheek where a lone, desperate tear spills down. “Nothing like watching your boy take your dick,” he murmurs against my temple. He sits back without taking his eyes off mine, notches that broad head to my hole and pushes in.
The initial pressure makes me whimper until his tip presses past my rim and my whimper melts into a loud moan. My fingers dig into his huge biceps. The straps that had restrained me hang loosely from my wrists reminding me of the twists and turns tonight has taken.
“Fuck, baby boy,” he growls down at me. The hand cupping my cheek shifts down to grasp my jaw, tensing into a possessive hold. His fingers rest over my pulse thumping wildly. I suck in air by the lungfull, desperately trying to relax. He tilts my head to the side, baring my neck to his mercy. I feel his warm breath fan over my glistening skin before he drags his tongue up from my collarbone. His mouth settles on the tender spot just below my jaw where his teeth scrape and nibble soft enough to send waves of chills over me. His satisfied groan brings me a small, confusing blossom of pride that sharpens into intense pleasure as he pushes more of himself inside me.
My hold on his arms becomes a deathgrip in my effort to relax my ass. I need more. I need every inch of this man. A strangled sob escapes me when I feel the smooth metal beads of his first piercing breaches me. Seeing his impressive size is nothing compared to feeling him split me open. Only one piercing in and I’m already gasping for air.
My intruder nips at my neck one more time before shifting up to sit on his thighs, spreading my legs wide to watch his dick still working into me.
“So fucking tight, boy. You want me to split you open, don’t you?” He runs his large hands up the sides of my stomach up to my chest where his thumbs rub firmly against my nipples. My body arches up to his touch. There hasn’t been a moment since he cut away my clothing that he’s let me catch my breath. The power and control he exudes over me has every nerve buzzing. One of his hands closes around my weeping cock while he uses the other to dribble more lube where we’re joined. I let out a loud and filthy groan, my hips jerking up.
“Yes!” I gasp out, to my own horror. “Shove it all inside! Please! I need it! I need it to hurt!” I barely recognize myself around the broken begging for brutality. This isn’t me. But I have never felt so alive. Every part of my body aches from the muscle strain of holding myself tense of fear and anxiety. Not just from tonight, but from everyday for god knows how long. Hearing my own words, I know they come from something deep inside me. True and honest. The last of my resistance evaporates on my next shaky breath replaced by a determination that surprises us both.
“Give it to me already. Make me your bitch,” I grit out through clenched teeth. He leans over me again with his powerful arms caging me in. Instinctively, I loop my arms around him under his arms and cling to him as he thrusts the rest of his dick inside me. The pressure and stretch is intense enough to make my vision go white. I cry out loudly into the room, grateful now for the storm drowning out all noises. My intruder doesn’t give me a spare moment to adjust. He pulls his hips back just to slam balls deep again and again. Every thrust forces a scream from my throat. My fingers claw at his muscled back, scoring his skin with red trails of pain and pleasure.
“More! Fuck! Aghhh! Don’t stop!” I beg and shout between thrusts. He’s unraveling me at the seams with every brutal plunge. He drops to his forearms so his body is pressing mine into the mattress. His mouth finds my neck again and this time he bites hard enough to leave deep marks. From this angle, he pistons his hips into me. The intensity of feeling his full length jackhammering into my ass is overwhelming. I’m lost to it. The pain and the bliss both rush through me with the unyielding power of a hurricane, waves of sensation battering my jagged shores into something new and unfamiliar. I sob and whimper uncontrollably as the pressure of his dick inside my ass builds higher and higher. My dick rubs against his belly and I know I’m close. From the way my ass clenches and flutters around him, he knows it too.
“That’s it, baby, cum on my dick! Show me how much you love getting railed!” He roars as the rhythm of his hips begin to falter.
“Fill me up!” I cry out while holding my trembling legs apart by my thighs. “Give me your fucking cum! Breed my slutty little ass! God, please!” My pleading reminds me I don’t know this man’s name. The realization sends me hurtling over the edge. With a wet sob that leaves my throat raw, my cock pulses and erupts between us. Spurt after spurt of hot, sticky cum paints our bellies white, rubbing into my slick skin while clinging the dark hair of his stomach. He doesn’t stop fucking me despite my clenching ass. Every shove of his cock inside milks a fresh spurt out of me, prolonging my orgasm.
Finally, when I’m nearly spent, he slams home one final time, grinding his pelvis against my ass, and lets out a guttural roar as he empties himself. He cums so much I can feel the heat of his load warming my guts and leaking out around his cock. Our mutual high must only last a few moments, yet it feels like an eternity. Breathless and completely spent, I fall back against the bed and suck in deep breaths. My intruder eases out of my raw, abused hole drawing out moans from both of us and collapses on his stomach next to me. His hand slides up my stomach, through the slick layer of cum and sweat, to rest of my chest over my racing heart.
“Jesus Christ, boy,” he pants out, fixing his possessive stare on me. “Best fuck I’ve had in years.” Pride blooms in my chest once again at his praise, his words brushing against my desire to please without the anxiety of performing. This attraction is raw and primal. As selfish as it is shared. Lazily, I run a hand lightly up his muscled forearm resting across my body. Our eyes meet in the tender way that lovers do, though I must be romanticising it. I’m riding high on endorphins, rationalizing the mind-melting fuck from a criminal.
I’m about to ask him what I should call him when a flash of lightning and roll of thunder pulls me from my thoughts. In the distance, sirens grow more prominent through the relentless roar of the storm. My intruder tenses and starts to rise. Perhaps pathetically, I grip his wrist and keep him close.
“Stay. No one’s going to look for you here. You can… you can spend the night. It would be suspicious if you’re spotted out in this storm.” He looks down at me, propped up on an arm hovering over me. His scowl looks contemplative like he’s actually considering it. Then he sighs and settles next to me, wrapping me up in his arms possessively.
“It’s been too long since I’ve slept next to a warm body. You’re dangerous, baby boy,” he grumbles against my neck. One of his arms snakes under my neck so I’m using his bicep like a pillow. The other drapes over my side with his palm flat against my back pulling me against his chest.
“You’re mine now. This slutty little ass,” he slides his hand down to grip my ass cheek earning a small groan from the soreness, “belongs to me.” I simply nod against his chest. I wonder again what his name is, but I decide to leave it be. I’ll find out soon enough. Then I’ll discover what kind of man he is. Maybe he’s a monster, but for now, I don’t want to know.
“Maybe in the morning…” I say with a blush forming across my cheeks, “you can make my slutty throat yours too.” The moment between my offer and his response seems to stretch out into agonizing minutes. He just laughs and curls his fingers into my hair, tugging my head back.
“I’ll fuck your throat so hard you won’t be able to beg me for more.” My heartbeat drums loudly in my ears. Before I can tell him how much I want that, he crashes his lips to mine in a dominating kiss. It borders on violence the way his teeth clash against mine. He pulls away with a nip to my bottom lip. Despite my cock stirring to half-hardness again, exhaustion weighs us both down. I nuzzle into his chest and drift off to sleep content knowing there would be something more in the morning. I don’t fully understand the changes this man fucked into me, but I’m embracing it for no other reason than I want to.
I wake up from a warm sunbeam slicing through my parted blinds right into my eyes. With a groan, I rub at my face and roll over. My entire body is sore and I reek of sweat and sex. My ass aches the most and I laugh a bit deliriously remembering the abuse it took. It’s only then I process that I'm alone. No hulking prison escapee to keep me warm. I chuckle again at the absurdity of such a thought, but wince from the pain of sitting up. I don’t call out to him to see if he’s still here. I know in my gut he’s gone.
Padding around my bedroom, I realize he’s taken some of my clothes. One of my oversized hoodies and a pair of elastic shorts are missing. Some of my jocks are missing too which stirs an ember of heat in my gut. Somewhere my intruder is off in the wind with my underwear stretched around that thick cock as a token of whatever last night was. For the third time in the few minutes I’ve been awake, a laugh escapes me, loud and stomach clenching.
“This is crazy. I’ve completely lost it,” I mutter to myself and force my body to move to the bathroom to clean myself up. By the time I’ve showered and stripped the bed, I’m ready for a coffee. I slowly make my way down the stairs and pad into the kitchen already smelling the delightful scent of a dark roast. The coffee pot is half full and a used mug next to it. Looking around the kitchen with the boyish hope he might still be here, I spot the note he scribbled out and pinned to the wall with the paring knife he used to threaten me.
Can’t risk the cops, baby boy. I won’t forget your promise. Don’t forget mine.
A shiver moves down my spine. He’s gone with the storm. I’m sure the manhunt will be brutal and extensive. It will be the topic of the news for weeks, probably longer. I have no idea when he’ll be back. If he’ll be back? I read over his note again. No. When. He’ll be back and the certainty I feel at the thought brings a twisted elation to my spirit. After pouring myself a cup of coffee, I lean back against the counter and sip my mug with a small smile as the rest of the outside world begins the slow process of returning to normalcy after the destructive rain and wind. I have no intention of joining them.
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