Was It Rape ?
So I failed my exam. AGAIN. I saw the final result leaning and even though I sort of knew I had failed, the confirmation of it was really abominable. My adept supporter, pink wine, was out of town for oeuvre so she tried the best she could to keep my feeling up via text, but I cried myself to sleep anyway. Her married man, hotdog, who was still in town, texted me too and let me do it that if I needed to just hang or drown my sorrow or whatever, he was there for me.
My history with Frank…we hadn't seen each former much for about four months before this all happened. That's when Rose caught him cheating on her. They took a duo of calendar month apart and then she moved back in with him and I had avoided him. We had been friends before that ; we'd hung out when Rose was out of town, like buds. I don't trust many mass easily, so it meant a lot when he cheated on her. I felt like he betrayed our friendship too. So this was going to be the first time since"the incident"that we were seeing each other on our own without blush wine as a buffer.
We went out form of early for a Friday. We went bowling and had burgers at the bowling alley. It was a moderately fancy place for a bowling alley, with a lodge and a bar attached, and it was expensive. I felt bad asking to play another game, so we left and sat outside for a bit. He was staring at his sound the whole clock time so I thought,"yeah he's not well-off around me anymore either"and I felt bad, but I was still pissed at him on some level so I said I should just go plate. He said no and we walked to a nearby bar.
We drank a lot. I was trying to tempo myself with non-alcoholic drinking in between the former boozing, but then he ordered me a stab, and then I ordered really expensive whisky and we started having very explicit treatment about his sex living with Rose. Before the incident, they were not having sex, like at all. Rose had been very, very confused about that. For month. Now, they were tramp. I still think that makes no sense, that she never was a swinger or had had a threesome before but after her husband cheats on her, she starts having 3 and swapping partners like it's nothing…I digress. So there was a guy, Roger, that had been…guesting, I guess you'd call it. Frank told me he'd gone down on Roger and asked me if I thought that made him gay. I was inebriate, so I can't commend what I told him. Probably something like it doesn't subject what I think.
I know I told him about some guy, maybe the guy I was with at the time, I don't know, but I felt like I had to not be boring and prudish and testify I had a sex life too. He told me that it made him hard to try about that story. He showed me a mental picture he had on his earphone of Rose getting fucked by Roger. I know I tried a few prison term to get the conversation off sex, but I was so drunk I can't really remember what I said.
At some point he or we decided it was time to provide. I went outside to bum a grass from the multitude on the patio. Frank settled the greenback and followed me outside. He took the butt away from me and took a drag then tried to buss me on the mouth. I pulled away and pushed him, laughing and telling him he was being a sottish idiot. It never occurred to me at all that he could be seriously trying to kiss me.
Well then he said he was trying to let me inhale the smoke from him. So I did that a couplet of metre with him still thinking that was ok because although our moths were touching, it wasn't a buss. Then he started kissing me and I…I don't know I was uneasy and form of excited and very drunk. I let him snog me a bit and then I kissed him back a bit and I kept thinking the unit time that it was just stupid, sottish, innocent fun. Innocent !
We had to walk a few mental block to get to a place where we could fascinate a cab. I was feeling drunk and well-chosen and having fun kissing here and there. I remember he said something to me like"you're so cool because you know this doesn't think of anything."I just laughed and pushed him away and told him he was stupid about half the times he went in for a kiss, but when I did let him kiss me, I did kiss him back. I don't know how many times we kissed before we got to the cab stand.
We got a cab and I got in and slumped over. I must have been pretty toast because my brain started going in and out, like being half asleep where you're kind of aware of affair going on, but not really able-bodied to talk or participate in anything. I felt my skirt get pushed up over my butt and Frank's hands on my ass. I might give swatted his helping hand away or I may give birth just thought that I wanted to. I remember listening to him giving counselling to the driver and thought process he was a lot more sober than me. I remember thinking that I was in trench shit since I couldn't thrust away from his seat for several hours at least. I'm fairly for sure I felt or said"I'm screwed."I was right.
He groped me under my chick the whole cab ride home ; unless the number one wood started asking for more directions, then my annulus got flipped back down to get across me up. I was aware of it, but I couldn't move. I didn't say stop in the cab because I was afraid the driver would call the cops or something. As I have said various times, I was very, very fuddle. I probably should own said something ; maybe it would have scared him. Toward the end of the cab ride, he succeeded in getting his finger's breadth in between my labia from behind. I know I was wet, I'm always stupidly turned on when I'm drunk, even if I don't want sex, I get wet. I'm sure he took that as a sign I wanted it. I probably was turned on on some story, but I still didn't think…I just didn't think anything would really happen. Not four calendar month after he cheated on pink wine, not with her best ally, who told him off and called him every name in the book and then didn't speak to him in any meaningful way for four months.
I can't think of getting in the house or how I got through the living room, past the kitchen to the breakfast corner, but I remember standing at the breakfast bar and looking across the menage at him getting naked and then I really got alarmed. I remember yelling at him to get his clothes back on, to stop it to stop being stupid. He got some of his clothes back on but not all of them. He ran over to me and hugged me and said it was ok, that we didn't have to do anything, but he had wanted me for a foresightful time, and that he was sorry. He kept asking me if I was ok and I said yes, but that we can't do anything, I can't betray my substantially protagonist, he can't do this to her again, blah blah blah etc. He kept saying that he knew, and then I was crying, or sorting of rallying cry, it's pretty fuzzy.
He hugged me and buried his top dog in my neck opening. He started to snuggle and nibble the place that turns me on so very much and I am trusted I moaned, I know I was turned on somewhat. His hands were all over me, under my shirt, my shirt was off, under my bra, then my bra was off and he was playing with my mamilla and we were kissing. My hint was stuck, or else I was panting, or he was panting and I couldn't breathe, I was horny and terrorise and angry and shocked. I pulled away and put my bra back on and he started to kiss me again and begged me to let him watch me get myself off. I said no and got my shirt back on and was begging him to stop touching me, to stop kissing me. I kept saying over and over"we can't do this, you can't do this to her again, you didn't see her, you don't know what it did to her."He kept agreeing with me, but somehow my shirt and bra came off again and I was losing the battle with my leg to keep standing.
Finally I started bargaining with him. I told him to observe his clothes on and that he could follow me get myself off but that was it. He said ok and took my skirt off. I had taken the panties off earlier in the eve ( very sneakily I thought, too ), because they were riding up in a really uncomfortable way when I had been bowling. The doll was below my knee, so I didn't even think it was that big a deal."No panties, you're such a beneficial strumpet,"he said when he looked down. Being called names for some reason just really turns me on. He reached down and slid a finger's breadth right into me and my stifle gave way. He"helped"me upstairs to their sleeping accommodation so he could keep an eye on me get off. Yeah right.
I was on the bed and my head and the way and the population was spinning. He was on the bed and he was naked. I remember telling him he had to bide dressed but his face was in my crotch and he was going down on me like it was his job before I could protest much more. rosiness had told me several metre how trade good he was at eating pussy and I just rolled my eyes and didn't believe her. Well, he was pretty good. He knew just where my g-spot was and how to rub it, fast and hard while sucking my clit. I came pretty quickly and I didn't actualize it trough later but that was the kickoff time I ever squirted.
"You taste amazing, osculate me and savor yourself."He kissed me and I kissed him back, still horny because I'm never satisfied after one orgasm. I tasted like Ananas comosus juice. I've never tasted that practiced since that night, although I never taste bad, but never that sweet and fruity again. He went back down on me some more, his tongue plunging into my cunt over and over again till I came on his tongue and he kept telling me how amazing I tasted. I kept saying no here and there but I didn't push him away anymore ; I wanted to cum again. He was redress, I was a hussy. Naked in my dependable friend's marital bed, legs extensive undetermined with her hubby's face in my pussy eating it for all he was worth and I was moaning and grinding my rose hip into my backtalk. I came on his finger a few more times and I was honestly ready to sleep but he wasn't done with me yet.
He pulled rose's vibrator out of her nightstand drawer and started fucking me with it. He plunged it deep inside me and then started moving it in and out fast and hard. I came, screaming and squirting again. The all clock time he's telling me how much he wants me, hot fucking hot I am, that he's wanted to sleep with me since the first time he met me four years ago. It's not potential to not be affected by those thing while you're drunk and cumming over and over and doing something very taboo. Even though I kept saying we shouldn't, I had stopped saying"no"and I kept cumming.
Finally, he put my left leg over his shoulder joint and lined his knockout prick up to my cunt. With no safe.
"You want me to fuck you ?"he asked. I wanted to hold cumming, but I shook my head.
"We shouldn't do this, we can't do this."I said as he slid is rock and roll strong rooster all the way into me. It felt good.
He kept my leg pressed between our consistency as he pumped in and out of me, relentlessly, for probably a one-half hour. He kept reaching down to nobble my teat and press his deal around my throat, which I hated but couldn't speak to tell him. He kept calling me a unspoiled slut, and telling me I had a good kitty, that I was such a good fuck, that my tits were perplex, that I was so crashing hot. I kept saying he was just drunk and he was going to rue it in the morning, that I would, that when we were sober we were going to hate ourselves, but that didn't make his pricking soft, he just kept pumping and pumping. I made him intercept because I had to pee and threatened to pee on the bed.
While I was sitting on the toilet pee, he followed me in and grabbed the back of my nous and shoved it down on his pecker. I pulled off him and started blowing him so he wouldn't choke me. I took him till he hit the back of my throat, licking and getting him wet all over, tasting how sweet my kitty was on his cock. I reached down and gently played with his balls while I swirled my tongue around the head and then started bobbing my heading up and down on his pecker while massaging his balls…I thought if I could get him to cum that he'd stop fucking me and decrease asleep and we could put this behind us, venture it never happened.
He wouldn't cum, or couldn't cum, he had incredible staying power for some reason. He pulled me off the toilet and let me wash off my hired hand before pulling me back into the sleeping accommodation and pushing me on the bed.
He fucked me till I was dry, till I was raw and still he didn't cum, He made me stick a finger up his ass while he poured lube all over my pussycat and kept fucking me. I felt like it had been going on for hours and time of day, but I have no idea how prospicient it actually lasted. I don't even think I was awake for all of it. I just commemorate the feeling of my ramification going benumb, of my snatch being sore and his sweat dripping in stale drops onto my face and chest.
Finally, he was gear up. He pulled out and came everywhere. It hit the headboard, my hairsbreadth, my face, my bosom, my stomach, and then he spread open my snatch and came all over it. I was so wear, and still so drunk that I didn't even move, not to houseclean up or anything. He went and got a towel or something and wiped me off a bit and then told me I better continue in his bed with him instead of going down the hall to the guest room. I didn't argue. I just closed my eyes.
Next thing I knew it was daylight, but that cold, slender daytime of former morning time. He was stroking my fuzz, then he was kissing the backbone of my neck, then he was pulling the covers down…I pretended to be departed, but he kept fondling and kissing and groping. He rolled me on my back and stuck his fingers right in my dry cunt. I opened my eyes and cried out in pain.
He told me he'd probably never have this hazard again so he intended to enjoy me as much as potential. He pulled out the bottle of lubricating substance and squirted it all over me and him. He asked me if I'd ever seen a stopcock anchor ring and I said I hadn't. He showed me this clear, stretchable, silicone circle, and then he but it over hid peter and over and around his balls and dick. He told me it makes it grownup and keeps him strong for longer. I told him I was sore and that lastly nighttime was enough and he was sober so he didn't have any excuse. He said something like"you're a hot slut, you're naked in my bed, and I'm going to fuck you."
He got on top of me and started pumping away. I was too tired, sore and had the beginnings of a hangover to fight or to delight it or to do anything but just try to give ear onto the substance of my stomach. He got frustrated I wasn't responding and started fucking me harder, making it hurt more. Finally, hoping to get it over with sooner rather than later, I started fucking him back and making moaning noises that I hoped were convincing. It worked because he pulled out and came all over me again. I got up out of the bed and almost fell to the trading floor, my legs were so rickety. I hobbled to the privy and rinsed off in the exhibitor, then looking at the foul bed sheet and Frank sitting there looking totally engrossed in his iPad, I turned and shuffled down the G. Stanley Hall to the guestroom and fell asleep.
A few 60 minutes later, I woke up, found all my clothes all over the theatre and drove Frank back to his car. I didn't say anything for a farseeing clock time until he finally broke the silence."That was a lot of fun, I hope you're not offended, but you're a cracking lay."I smiled a tight-lipped smiling and held back the urge to cry. We got close to the parking lot where he'd left his car and he tried talking again."The only if affair I regret is that I didn't get to have intercourse you more."I felt a moving ridge of sickness and sadness and disgust and shame. He got out of my car and took off toward the parking garage and I went home and took a long cascade .