Red Roses

I took a deep breath. This is it.

I gently lifted her left wrist and snapped the cuff around it.

Trish's eyes flew open.

Before I could react, she shoved me back. I staggered back against her dresser as she lunged off the bed.

The wrought iron headboard saved me. The one side of the handcuffs—the one I had threaded back through in an open position—caught on the iron bars, halting her in mid-movement. Trish snarled and leaned back to work it loose.

I jumped onto the bed, straddling her torso. With both hands I grabbed her right arm. She fought but I had strength and leverage. I snapped the manacle shut on her wrist.

Trish bucked, trying to throw me off. I laughed. Her efforts were pointless, cuffed to the headboard as she was. I put my hand under her chin but yanked it back as she snapped her teeth at my fingers. "You fucking bastard!"

I paused. Trish rarely swore and even more rarely lost her temper. The feral look in her eyes was unsettling, especially stacked on her choice of words. I shot my hand out, around her throat, under her chin. She gasped, wrenching her head back and forth but could barely move.

I leaned down, putting my lips close to her ear. "You're the prettiest girl I've seen since that one in Cincinnati."

Trish hesitated. I thought for a moment she was going to call it off before she started struggling with renewed vigor. "Get off! Get off of me, damn it!"

I released her chin and moved my hands down her collarbones. Her chest heaved with exertion and the rise and fall of her tight breasts was almost hypnotic. Her nipples were prominent. I paused, thinking that putting my hands on her breasts was wrong.

This is why you're here, idiot.

I squeezed her tits. Trish cried out and pushed her hips, trying to throw me off. I squeezed again. They felt fantastic. I wanted to see them. I seized the folded seam of her tanktop right above her cleavage and tore.

The motion almost carried me off the bed and the seam didn't rip.

Feeling slightly embarrassed at that failure, I pulled the tiny pair of scissors from my hoodie pocket. Ignoring Trish yelling at me, I concentrated on not letting her stab herself on the scissors with her wild motions. I snipped through the seam and tucked the scissors back in the pocket.

Being a rapist is harder than it looks.

I took hold of the shirt and ripped again. This time the tanktop tore all the way to her waist and I saw my friend's breasts for the first time in our adult lives.

When we were thirteen, I had accidentally walked in on Trish changing in the bathroom. She had shrieked at me and told me to get out. I'd seen her breasts that day. They were little more than swellings. I'd teased her about that for months.

Now she had the beautiful breasts of an adult woman. They weren't the biggest I had ever seen but they were firm and supple. I lowered my head and sucked one of the nipples into my mouth. It was already hard but impossibly, it got even firmer and more pronounced. I nibbled on it, then gave it a sharp nip. Trish squealed but I ignored her. I worked her tits for a few minutes, savoring the feel and texture of them beneath my fingers and mouth. Trish's yells had muted and she was panting in short, sharp breaths and I licked and tongued her nipples. I lowered my mouth to the underside of her left tit, and sucked, leaving a nice hickey. I moved to right one and gave a couple of bites around the nipple, marking it. Trish gasped and fought but could do little. My cock was as stiff as it had ever been. Painfully so. I have no doubt she could feel it pressed against her belly and I don't know it if frightened or excited her. Probably both.

I slid off her and the bed. My feet touched the floor. As if that was a signal, Trish lashed out with her feet, striking me in the shoulder.

Pain flared and so did my temper. I leaned over and smacked her in the face with an open palm. It wasn't a hard blow but Trish's eyes widened. "Keep fighting and you'll get worse."

"You fucking son of a bitch! Let me loose!"

I took hold of the waist of her flannel bottoms. Trish started to flail her legs again but I grabbed them and held them down. I worked the loose pants down her legs, revealing a pair of plain white granny-panties. I had to chuckle; I shouldn't have expected her to wear lingerie to her own rape.

It wasn't easy with her feet kicking but I got the pajama pants from her. I stepped back from the bed and surveyed my handiwork.

Trish glared at me with hate-filled eyes. Her breasts—covered in saliva and bite marks—rose and fell with her angry breathing. All that remained of her clothing were her plain cotton panties and the tattered remains of her tanktop.

I removed the handcuff key from my hoodie pocket and placed it on the nightstand. With Trish watching, I kicked off my shoes. I unzipped the hoodie and pulled it over my head. I was no Greek god but I was reasonably fit and trim, with just the hint of a six-pack poking through. I lowered my sweatpants, leaving me standing there in just my jockey shorts and my ski mask. My cock strained at my shorts, with the head just peeking over the edge of the waistband.

I glanced at Trish. Her eyes were on my cock and I swear I saw her lick her lips. I realized that she had never seen me naked either. I hoped she wouldn't be disappointed. I steeled my courage and pushed my shorts to the floor.

Trish gasped at the engorged state of my erection. I looked down. Drops of precum glistened around the head and the whole thing was already throbbing.

I smiled at her. I had already decided that I was going to indulge in a bit of smack talk. "Like what you see, whore?"

Her eyes lifted from my package. Her anger was palpable. "That teeny needle-dick? I won't even feel it. Probably come in two seconds too."

Her comments stung a bit more than I thought they would but I just nodded. If I could talk some shit, so could she. "We'll see about that."

I approached the head of the bed, beyond range of her feet. She sneered but could do little. I gave her tit one more pinch before I worked my way down to her flat stomach to her waistband. Trish started to thrash again but I laid across her legs, holding her still. I crept my fingers inside the hem of her panties and inched inside.

She was shaven.

I'm surprised I didn't come right then. Her mound felt so hot against my skin. I rubbed and caressed it for a moment, then slid one finger to the top of her lips. I had lube in my bag, just in case, but no need; she was flooded. The inside of her panties were soaked. I parted her lips and touched her clit.

Trish arched her back. A choking gurgle escaped her mouth. Her whole body started shaking and I felt new moisture gush across my fingers.

She came as soon as I touched her. She really is turned on by this.

I ran my finger up and down her labia, pinching them here and there, touching her clit and tweaking it between fingers. Trish shook and trembled in my grasp.

My cock pulsed again and I could not take it any more.

I hooked my fingers around the edge of her panties on each of her hips and slowly pulled. Her pussy came into view and it was all I could not to stop and just stare at it. It was indeed shaven and glistening with her juices. Her lips were perfect and engorged and red with lust. I pretty much tore the panties the rest of the way off, leaving her at my mercy.

Still laying across her, I lowered my head and ran my tongue across her swollen lips.

Trish convulsed.

I stabbed with my tongue, running from her clit down to the entrance of her tunnel. She was sweet, like springwater. Her scent flooded my senses. She tasted so good! I could have stayed there longer but my cock would not be denied.

I swung my legs until I was lined up with her. I sat on my haunches and drove my knees into her inner thighs, shoving them apart. Trish fought and pushed back, but wasn't strong enough. She tried to twist her hips away from me. I held her tight.

"No! No, please don't do this! Please!" She had tears in her eyes, all traces of resistance gone. I was tempted to stop but she didn't use the safe word.

I positioned the head of my prick at her entrance and rubbed it up and down her lips. Her struggle subsided but not completely. I said, "God, you are dripping wet. You want this, slut. Tell me you want it."

Her defiance came roaring back. Trish raised her head. Through gritted teeth, she growled, "Fuck you! Fuck you!"

I donned my most evil smile. I dug my fingers into her hips. "No, sweetheart. Fuck you!"

With that, I rammed my swollen dick into my best friend, all the way up my balls.

Trish screamed. Her pussy clamped down on my cock like a vice—so tight I could barely move. Her whole body spasmed and liquid poured around the base of my dick and ran down her ass.

God, I thought, she came again. If I wasn't in her, she might have squirted halfway across the room.

I waited until her orgasm started to subside before I began fucking Trish with long, slow, deliberate strokes. I paused a good second before each thrust. With each, I put all the power in my hips into it. The shock wave of each impact rolled up Trish's entire body. She lay with her head turned. Tears leaked from her eyes. I had no idea what tears meant, whether it was pain, fear, happiness, or some other emotion. She had still not used the safe word.

I fucked her slowly for three minutes. Each stroke felt like heaven. She was as warm and wet as I had ever felt in a woman. Her pussy gripped my cock at the apex of each stroke and relaxed as I pulled away. After a minute, she began rolling her hips towards me as I thrust. I doubt she was even consciously aware she was doing it.

I realized I was getting close. I leaned forward a little, placing my hands by her rib cage, and accelerated my tempo. Within seconds, I was pounding her pussy with my cock, ravaging her depths with every stroke.

The familiar tightening arrived, deep in my scrotum. I squeezed the muscles in my abdomen, tying to stave if off as long as possible, even as I picked up the pace yet again. I jackhammered into her. Trish shrieked again and began shaking, coming a third time. That was all I could take. With a roar, I let loose, spraying jet after jet of cum deep into Trish's body. My orgasm went on for twenty seconds, losing everything I'd built up for the last few months. Even after the last pulse, Trish's pussy kept milking my cock, squeezing and relaxing over and over, trying to extract every drop it could get.

I sat there a moment, fighting to calm my beating heart and control my breathing. Beneath me, Trish vibrated. Her eyes were closed.

My cock softened and I pulled out of her. She flinched. Even in dim radiance of the pale moonlight, I saw a trail of white liquid trickling from her swollen lips. The image was erotic as hell.

Without a word, I got off the bed. My thighs protested the sudden movement; I didn't realize I had been clenching them so tight. I walked from the room, stretching my legs, leaving Trish trembling in a puddle of our combined juices.

Once in the kitchen, I fished around in her fridge until I found a beer. I took a dishtowel and spread it across her couch (can't leave wet dick stains on my friend's furniture, you know). I sat, popped the tab on the beer, and tried to process what the hell had just happened.

I mean, obviously, I just fucked the hell out of my best friend. She'd come several times that I could see and I had the strongest, most intense orgasm ever. It was short, it was brutal ... and it was the best sexual experience of my life.

I took an uncomfortable swallow of beer. If practically raping someone was the best sexual experience of my life, what did that say about me? I couldn't tell what emotion was stronger: the sense of guilt and shame for my role, or the sheer eroticism of what had happened.

And Trish ... what was she thinking right now? Was she having regrets? Was she in pain?

I drained the beer and crushed the can in my hand. I'd try to get Trish to use the safe word. If she refused, I was going to press on. I would likely never have such an opportunity again. I would let Trish be my conscience. Some might call that cowardly but I figured that since she had got me into this, she could get me out.

I went through the kitchen to the laundry room, tossed the dishrag in the hamper, set the empty beer can on the counter, and returned to the bedroom.

Trish was where I left her. I flipped on the bedside lamp to get a better look at her. Her eyes fixed on me. I glanced at her wrists and was concerned to see that in her struggles, she had rubbed the skin raw in places.

I picked up the key. "I am going to take these cuffs off. Do you think you can behave?"

She didn't answer but just continued to eye me with contempt.

"You play your cards, right, you just might get out of this. You might get a chance to travel, do stuff. Is there somewhere you want to go? Some city perhaps?"

Trish glared at me. "Why the fuck would you ask me that?"

I stared at her, then shrugged my shoulders. I'd given her as clear a chance as possible and she'd just as clearly ignored it. My guilt receded. Whatever happened this evening, it was something Trish obviously wanted.

I let my voice get a little harsher. As I unlocked one of the cuffs, I said, "We're gonna have some more fun now. Don't try to run."

I knew she would. And I'd chase her. Just the thought started my cock swelling again. I glanced down at the hot mess between her legs and got even harder.

Trish sat perfectly still as I pulled her wrist from the right cuff. I half-expected her to swing at me but she didn't. I readied myself and unsnapped the left cuff.

Like a flash of lightning, she rolled off the bed and darted towards the door. I was already moving around the bed to intercept. She made it to the living room before I caught her.

I half-seized, half-tackled her. We fell to the floor face forward, with me on top of her. Trish kicked backwards but I evaded her blow. I used my weight and strength to pin her to the carpet.

"Get the fuck off me!" she screamed.

I twisted her left arm behind her back and pushed her wrist towards her head. Trish whimpered and started to cry. I ripped the remains of her shredded tank top from her.

"Shut up, you fucking whore. I told you not to run, didn't I?"

She didn't answer. I twisted her arm and she yelled again. I raised my voice. "Didn't I?"

"Yes!"

"Then you have to be punished."

I shifted to one side, exposing her butt to my view. Trish's ass had always been amazing. It had a beautiful inverted heart shape and was so tight you could bounce a quarter off it.

I raised my hand and slammed the open palm into her left cheek. Trish hollered and squirmed. I twisted her arm again. Her right arm groped back for me but her angle was bad and she couldn't exert any leverage. All she could do was scratch my chest and arm a few times and none of them bad.

I smacked her again, then switched to her right cheek. I went back and forth, spanking her with blows of varying strength. Trish cried out each time and tried to escape but my grip on her arm was far too tight. Within moments, her ass was cherry-red. And my dick was totally hard again.

I forced her legs apart. Knowing what was coming, Trish lunged forward, trying to break free. I simply followed, landing on her back. "No, please don't! Please, not again!"

"You were told not to run." I grabbed my dick and rubbed it against her slit. "You should have listened!"

"No!"

"Oh yes."

I worked my dick back into her, this time from behind. She was as slick and even hotter than before. With my left arm holding her left arm pinned behind her back and holding her face in the carpet, I used my right arm to raise her hips until she was on her knees. I held her hip with my right hand and began fucking her again.

Trish grunted and fought but couldn't get away. With the living room light on, I was able to see everything in glorious detail. My cock lanced deep into her from behind, over and over. My rod shone with the shining moisture of her excitement. I closed my eyes and groaned as I pierced her. Her pussy was a wet velvet glove, holding my cock tightly. As with before, her inner muscles gripped me with each thrust and before I knew it, she was thrusting her hips back at me. A minor orgasm crashed through her and she shook and once again flooded her tunnel with fluid. I had no idea Trish was a squirter but it was great knowing I was giving her that pleasure.

Fucking Trish was simply heavenly. I'd had sex before, many times. But with Trish, it was as if none of those experiences had happened. She was so hot, so wet. Each thrust sent pulses of pleasure through my body. Her body responded to my aggression with such passion, with such exquisite elegance. She joined me in a natural rhythm without even trying. When I looked back later, I think it was simply due to our connection. We knew each other so well to begin with that the sex just fell into place.

My left hand released her arm and wandered up her back. I buried my fingers in her hair and lifted. She gasped as I pulled her head back.

"God, you're such a hot little tramp."

"Shut up!"

"Your pussy feels so good and tight. So much better than I thought it would."

"You asshole!"

I dropped her head back to the carpet. I licked my thumb, then used it to trace over her sphincter. At no time did I stop thrusting my dick in and out of her. Trish moaned as I worked the tip of my thumb into her backdoor. "Now, that's an asshole."

"Get out of there!"

I twisted my thumb inside, creeping it forwards until I was in her ass up to the first knuckle. "That's right, keep telling me what to do. You never learn."

"Get out of my ass, you motherfucker!"

I pulled my dick loose from her.

When I walked in, I had absolutely no plan to do this but she was practically daring me. She knew me, and knew how I'd respond—and that was fine, since I was dying to do it. I'd never had anal sex before but I'd read plenty on it. Everything I read agreed on two points: lots of lube and go slow. The lube was in the bag on the floor of her bedroom and I couldn't get it without letting her up but I'd go slow and if it didn't work, I'd move onto something else.

I pulled my thumb out of her ass and plunged three fingers into her sopping hole. Trish groaned and trembled. When they were soaked, I pulled my fingers out, wiped her juice all over my cock, plunged them back in, then wiped it all over her pink rosebud.

Trish's head shot up. "What? No!"

She fought again, harder than at any time since we'd moved to the living room. I had to use both hands to subdue her. I pressed her face against the carpet and floor her arm again. She growled and shuffled her feet in impotent rage.

I gripped my cock and brought it to her asshole. Trish tensed. She inhaled and for a long moment I thought she was going to throw down the safe word. I waited. She exhaled and started wriggling.

I held her steady and very, very slowly worked the head of my cock into her butt. Trish froze, tensing up once again. I rested there, letting her get used to it. After a moment, I pushed another half-inch in. Every time I did, Trish went rigid and then after a second, relaxed. So it went until I was almost all the way inside her. I slowly pulled back, then pushed in again.

Trish gurgled and jerked her head, whipping her hair about. "No, oh no!"

"Take it!"

"Get out, get out!"

"Make me!"

She groaned as I thrust again.

If her pussy had been tight, her ass was a suctioning whirlpool, gripping my entire shaft in a silky, warm constrictor embrace of pleasure. I moved slowly, not wanting to really hurt her. The sensation was amazing.