(Note: The following story may be triggering for some survivors of sexual assault.)

“I had a terrible dream,” she said. 

I rolled over and opened my eyes to discover it was only two-thirty. I wrapped my arm around her without thinking and whispered that it would be okay. I was only half awake.

“You told me you didn’t want me any more. It felt so real.”

“Obviously it was a dream.” I snuggled up against her neck and closed my eyes again. “Do you need me to prove it?” I was mumbling.

“No,” she said in the voice she uses when she doesn’t mean no at all. “Please don’t fuck me.” She was whispering.

I slid my hand down her cheek until I was caressing her neck and my breath grew quicker with each second. I shifted my knee between her thighs, lifting my weight ever so slightly, and my thumb pressed down against her throat. I pulled my head from her shoulder and looked down at her eyes in the darkness.

“Did you just tell me I couldn’t fuck you?” I growled.

“Please don’t. Just let me go back to sleep.”

Two seconds later her legs were spread so wide that she screamed, and I had both of her arms pinned above head with one hand. My other hand was still on her neck, now squeezing her tighter as I watched her chest rise and fall, and there was real anger mixed in with my excitement. 

Sleep was gone and so were dreams. My worries about the next morning left me, and the only thing that mattered was the naked girl beneath my body, struggling to get away as I grew hard between her legs. She tried to scream again as I held her tighter, but my body pressed down. My cock was rubbing against her in the darkness, and I could only think of one thing.

She let out a sigh when I let go, but she was moaning again seconds later. Two fingers were deep inside her.

“I’m going to fuck this little cunt of yours and there is nothing you can do about it. Do you understand me?”

“Please don’t,” she moaned, still struggling to free her arms. “Just leave me alone. I promise…”

“You promise what?” I asked, adding a third finger.

“I promise I’ll be good. I’ll do anything, just please…”

My mouth was on hers, cutting her off, and my fingers was back on her cheek. I pressed two of them between her lips as I positioned myself between her legs. I rubbed myself between the folds of her cunt as I kissed her and fucked her with my fingers at the same time.

“I’m going to fuck you as you taste your own wet pussy on my fingers. I’m going to fuck you until you scream, and them I’m going to come so far inside you that you’ll feel me for days. Do you understand?”

I was whispering as I pushed into her and she moaned around my fingers. She kicked and she tried to bite, but I held her still as I filled her. There was no pause once she was around me, and nothing to slow me down. I moved faster and faster between her legs, even as I shoved my fingers deeper into her mouth. 

Her body trembled as I fucked her and for those long moments there was nothing in the world I wanted more, and nothing that could have made me stop. Her body was mine and her lips were mine. Her moans and her sighs belonged to me, and her cunt was alive. She was mine to fuck, and I wasn’t going to let her forget it.

“Stop,” she moaned into my ear, even as her hand pulled my head to her. “Please don’t,” she whispered, her legs wrapping around my back as I fucked her harder. “Don’t come in me. Please, whatever you do, don’t come inside me.”

I slapped her once across the face, leaving a warm red mark on her cheek, before I kissed her. Her tongue was warm in my mouth, and her lips were soft as I closed my eyes and felt my body tighten. I moaned into her, my fingers crushing her wrists with a tight grip, and I came so hard I thought the bed might break. I came in waves and I didn’t stop. She clenched around me as I gave her everything, but it was long minutes before I slowed down and kissed her softly.

She held me against her chest with her fingers in my hair as we both slowly returned to the present.

“It was just a dream,” she whispered. “It was just a dream.”

For a long time we had men in our fantasies.

Then specific men were less important than the plurality of them and it made us come for hours at a time. I’d fuck her with her eyes closed and she’d tell me what she wanted to do with them. She’d describe having her ass filled as she choked on my cock, and she’d tell me how she’d beg us all to take her. I’d call her a slut and a whore, and she’d cry and moan as we let our bodies slap against one other until we collapsed in exhaustion.

And then somehow it happened. 

We made new friends, we went to different parties, and we asked the right questions. I watched her blow two men at once while I fucked her from behind, and she begged just like she promised. Sometimes I sat back and watched her with a partner (or two or three) and made myself come again and again. I kissed her mouth, tasting other men, and I looked into her eyes as she came around a cock in her ass. 

But often in those moments—when everything was most intense—my mind would take me back to before. I’d watch her moan and writhe beneath us, but in my vivid imagination it was just us two once again. It was just her and me, alone in our room with the window open. We’d kiss and hold each other quietly as we giggled beneath a blanket. We’d smile and touch one another as our bodies moved slowly together.

When I opened my eyes I was surrounded by bodies and limbs, but somewhere in the middle everything was calm.

Guy New York