the sofa.
What in hell happened? He acted like I had some dread disease! What's the matter with him?
Never before had she seen a man react in such a way. It just didn't make sense. She had done everything to show her receptiveness, everything except come right out and ask him to ball her!
Damn your best friend, Chance! He's as bad as you are!
She shuddered. Her curses did little to relieve the dampness of her loins. She wanted a man and to suddenly find herself rejected for no apparent reason left her flustered and frustrated.
It isn't fair! It just isn't fair!
She was on the verge of tears-anger and need. She gripped her arms and held herself tightly, shaking. There were ways to ease her need, but she didn't want her own fingers. She wanted a man, the feel of a cock moving within the aching channel of her cunt.
If I ever see Barry Cole again, I'll kick him right in the balls! He's apparently got no better use for them!
She shook her head. Finding a sofa pillow beside her, she grabbed it and threw it across the room. It didn't help. She was still angry and she was still frustrated. She couldn't think of anything else she could have done to make her intent more obvious to him. He just didn't respond. She thought about the rigid hardness she had felt beneath his pants and quivered. He was aroused, she didn't doubt that. But why didn't he try to seduce her? Why?
A knock came from the door. Cari looked up, unsure that she had heard the rap. It came again. Brushing back her long blonde hair, she stood and walked to the door, wondering who it could be this late at night.
Gripping the knob, she jerked the door open.
Barry Cole stood on the other side.
'You?' She glared at him, confused and angry. 'What do you want?'
'You,' he said simply.
His arms shot out, roughly grabbing her by the waist. She was jerked forward, her body crushed against his. 'What the hell do you think…'
His mouth covered hers, his tongue driving deeply, drilling toward her throat. She squirmed and twisted, trying to break his hold on her. His hands only tightened, mashing her diminutive frame to his muscular body. His tongue was like a hungry whip, lashing, thrashing within her mouth. Despite herself, she was responding to his unexpected show of passion. At the same time, her anger boiled. She had offered this and he had refused. Now, he apparently wanted to take it.
She was breathless and gulping for air when he finally let her mouth slip from his. 'What's going on? Do you think you can just come in here like this and… and rape me?'
'If that's what it takes,' he said. He grinned, but he was serious. 'I mean it. I want you.'
He released her. She stumbled back into the living room. Her knees were trembling and she was confused. He slammed the door behind him, locking and chaining it. He turned and looked at her. His expression didn't hint of any malice, but there was definitely determination in his green eyes.
'Why didn't you do this earlier?' she asked, still angry at his rejection. 'You could see I was offering!'
His face went blank, as though he didn't know what she was talking about. He was silent for a moment or two. 'Does the offer still stand?'
Dammit! Can't you see that it does? Do you have to be hit over the head with a brick? she thought, but said, 'No!'
'Then, I guess it will have to be rape!' He moved toward her, reaching out.
She backstepped, avoiding his groping hands. 'Barry, you don't want it this way. Do you?'
'No, but if that's the only way, then I guess it will have to do.' He was still coming at her and she was still retreating. 'You do want it, want me. You've already said that.'
'Yes, but…' she sputtered. He was right, she did want him. The dampness in her crotch was seeping into her panties at the thought of him stuffed inside her.
'No 'buts,'' he said.
'It will be rape,' she replied. It will, sort of, if you stretch the definition, she thought.
She continued to back away. The thought of this man, this man she wanted, forcing himself on her was exciting. It was the fantasy of the mock-rape all women dream of come true. The rape that wouldn't be a rape. She wanted to tell him that, but to do so would lessen the thrill. The game they played aroused every lusty need within her.
'I won't hurt you,' he said. 'I don't want that. I just want you, Cari.
I want you more than any woman I've ever met.'
She wanted to rush forward and hug him, to kiss him. Whatever anger she had felt earlier was gone. Her frustration at his earlier rejection had disappeared. She wanted him, ached to have him deeply entrenched in her wanton body.
Her retreat took them into her bedroom. It was by accident rather than design. But she was pleased. The bed would be much better than the floor.
'Do you take off those clothes, or do I have to rip them off you?' he asked. It was definitely a question rather than a threat. This young, flaming-haired man was the most unsure rapist she could ever imagine.
For a moment, she thought of trying to rush past him, and prolong their game, forcing him to struggle with her, throw her to the bed, and take her. But she was afraid to try. As uncertain as he seemed to be, she just might scare him off. And at the moment, that was the last thing she wanted to do.
'I'll take them off,' she replied. Damn, if he didn't seem relieved to hear her say that.
As he watched, she skinned off the sweater she wore, pulling it over her head and tossing it aside. Her tits were haltered in one of those sheer nylon no-bra bras. His eyes widened and he sucked in a deep breath when she unclasped that and let it slide seductively down her arms.
I bet this is the first rapist who's had his victim do a strip tease for him!
Next, her fingers tucked beneath the elastic hands of her slacks and panties. Together, she shimmied from them, wiggling in a most provocative manner as she pushed them over her voluptuous hips and peeled them down her shapely legs, to step free. Completely naked, she stood, posing for his devouring eyes. His gaze centered on the fleececovered mound of her cunt. She shivered, delighting in the hunger she saw in those green, caressing eyes.
'You are beautiful,' he said. 'I never thought a woman could be so beautiful.'
He meant it. She could tell. He really meant it. It wasn't just some hollow compliment men usually say to get a girl into the sack. His sincerity got to her, sending thrilling shivers up and down her spine.
'And now, I suggest you get that beautiful body on the bed,' he said.
'Because I'm going to fuck you!'
She complied, trying to contain her eagerness, but failing miserably.
Lying supine on her back, her thighs lewdly spread in an open invitation to the young man, she watched as he quickly stripped off his own clothes, scattering them on the floor. Last to come off were his jockey shorts. She gasped as he stood, naked with the thick spike of his cock jutting from his groin.
It's beautiful! She marveled at its thickness, its rigid-looking length. She wanted to take it, to fondle it, to kiss it. But the game of rape would be destroyed then.
Instead, she lay there, her thighs open and vulnerable while he crawled onto the bed and climbed atop her welcoming body. There was no foreplay, no arousing caresses, no intimate fingering of her quim. Just his pressing weight atop her and the strong, demanding feel of his cock throbbing against the moist, pink lips of her pussy.
'I want you,' he whispered. 'Cari, I want you!'
His hips lurched.
'Arraarragggahhh!' she groaned, her whole body jarring.
In one forceful thrust, he fed every swollen inch of his cock up into the wanton slash of her cunt. She felt skewered, impaled on the pulsating length of his sex. So hard! So long! So deep! She felt every inch of him, the throbbing, the twitching.
There was a certain satisfaction in that moment. The aching desires that had been building over the past month were unleashed within her.
Fire burned at the very quick of her soul. Her vaginal walls clamped down around his thick wand of lust,
