From Behind

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She is surprised by a man approaching from behind.
2.6k words
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Ashson
Ashson
8,505 Followers

He just picked me up and carried me into the nearest bedroom, which happened to be mine. Once in there he tossed me face down on top of the bed (my bed), half on and half off, and casually held me there with one hand placed in the middle of my back. His other hand was busy pulling my panties down and off, leaving me lying there naked.

Looking up I could see myself in the mirror of the dressing table. Again, my dressing table, my mirror. Why couldn't he have dragged me into some other room? There I was, stark naked, pinned to the bed. His hand lifted off my back and I could see what was coming before it happened. His hand came down firmly on my bottom.

"Stay still," he told me.

I didn't see that I had much choice. He was bigger and stronger and probably faster than me. Even if I scrambled over to the other side of the bed what good would it do? The door was behind him and he'd closed it.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" I demanded.

I was watching his face in the mirror and he rolled his eyes as if to say give me a break. What the hell do you think I'm going to do? I was also able to watch the rest of him, and he was stripping off his shirt. I was able to make a fair guess at what he intended to do.

With his shirt off he started undoing his trousers and very quickly slipped them down. My bed wasn't a particularly high bed. I suppose it came up to about mid-thigh on him. That meant I could see his naked body all the way down to mid-thigh, although my eyes couldn't seem to drop below groin level. He had an erection. From my point of view a huge erection, although if asked he'd probably say just average. If it was just average them I'll make it a point to seek out men who are below average in certain areas. Way below.

I was, at this stage, eighteen and a virgin, but while I was going to be eighteen for a number of months yet I didn't expect to remain a virgin for that length of time. I can sometimes read the future and all indications were that I would soon join the ranks of ex-virgins. There was at least one significant pointer indicating this and I was looking at it in the mirror.

I lay the blame of the situation in which I found myself squarely on the shoulders of my parents. They knew I couldn't take any time off work. It was our busy period and I wasn't entitled to any leave yet. So when they decided to go on a cruise I naturally pointed out that I couldn't go with them but that I'd be quite happy staying at home by myself.

My father was in half agreement with this. He didn't mind me staying at home, but not by myself. My aunt and her new husband had just sold their place and were looking to rent for a couple of months before the deal on their new house was finalised. They were going to come and stay with me. Oh, happy day.

My aunt was rather, let's say bossy. It sounds so much better than dictatorial. Her new husband was OK, if you like mice. Her brand new stepson, aged about twenty, was also OK, although not a mouse. He seemed to be able to stand up to Auntie with no problems. It seemed that he was also moving in with us for a few months.

Almost from the moment she walked in my aunt tried to lay down the law to me. I very politely pointed out that I was living in my parent's house, and I was of age, and I knew the rules that my parents wanted me to follow, and she could take her edicts and shove them.

After that initial confrontation my Aunt and I avoided each other. I got along OK with my new uncle and I rarely saw Jackson, my step-cousin. He was always out, either working, or playing sport, or out with friends.

So on this particular day I was home alone. Aunt and uncle and Jackson were all at work and I had a rare day off. I was using it to do my housework, tidying my room, and doing my laundry. It was doing the laundry that was my undoing.

I'd finished everything I had to do apart from loading the washing machine and while doing that it occurred to me that as I was going to get changed anyway I might as well drop the dress I was wearing into the machine, and I promptly did so. Seeing I was only bumming around the house I hadn't bother with a bra that morning, knowing I'd put one on after I'd showered an got properly dressed, which I'd do after my housework.

So I'd just hit the start button on the washing machine, standing in the laundry with my boobs hanging out, when in walked Jackson. (I'll correct one thing there. My boobs were not hanging out. They were jutting out proudly, not needing artificial support to hold them high.) Bloody Jackson just picked me up and carried me to the nearest bedroom - like I said, mine.

Now he was standing behind me, naked, and I could see him reaching for me. His hand closed over my mound and he started rubbing me there. No way was I going to take that without some sort of protest.

"Jackson, you can't do this. Just stop and think for a moment."

He did stop to my surprise.

"I think that you have a choice. You can shut up or you can get your bottom smacked. The decision is yours."

"What sort of choice is that?" I demanded and then yelped as he promptly slapped my bottom.

"Were you saying something?" he asked, hand poised, and I kept my mouth shut, watching that hand rather nervously.

It came down again, but not to smack. I was back on my mound, getting thoroughly acquainted with my private parts. I twisted and squirmed but it didn't help. His hands were all over me, rubbing and probing. It wasn't long before he was parting my lips and sneaking his fingers inside me, testing my hidden depths.

The man knew I was a virgin. I could feel him pressing lightly against my hymen, making sure. Swine. He kept probing and stroking and feeling me up. I knew, in theory, that the area around the clitoris is very sensitive if someone touches you there. Even if you touch yourself there by rubbing yourself. (Or so I've heard. Not that I've ever actually done that.) I was now finding out that the theory was understating the sensitivity.

Jackson was deliberately touching me in that area, seeming amused by my reactions and the involuntary noises I made. And he couldn't help but insult me.

"Hot little thing, aren't you," he said. "Let's see if this helps cool things down."

He took his hands away and I immediately thought, "Oh, no. He's going to do it." I was watching him in the mirror, horrified, dreading the thought of that big cock of his attacking me. Instead of moving closer he seemed to be shrinking. Him, not his cock. It finally dawned on me that he was getting down onto his knees for some reason.

The reason became clear when his mouth settled on my pussy. I nearly bucked off the bed with shock but he'd anticipated that and his hands were firmly attached to my hips, holding me in position. Cool things down? He'd been joking. He knew damn well that what he was doing wasn't going to cool anything down, especially me.

I'd been heating up, reluctantly, from what he'd been doing with his hands. Now he was bringing me to the boil and holding me there, tormenting me. His tongue went everywhere his fingers had gone and it was wet and slippery, seeming to be everywhere at once.

Having his fingers probing lightly around my clitoris had been bad enough. This was a hundred times worse. I screamed and protested and was ignored, his tongue continuing to extract its toll, turning up the heat and driving me wild.

I was wet and wild and aroused and if he'd suddenly stood up and jammed his cock in me I probably wouldn't have cared. I might have cared later, but not at this moment. But he didn't do anything so unselfish. He just kept playing with me, tongue darting here and there. You'd think I was a dessert he was trying to eat.

I twisted and turned and lost control. Not that I'd ever had any control. My saying I lost control is just a way of saying I had a climax. He did it deliberately, too, keeping on touching and probing and caressing until I was done.

I finished shuddering and shaking and found he'd finished touching and was standing.

"Interesting," he said, drawling the word out. "It appears that you're not only hot but sensitive, too."

He paused for a moment and I was watching him in the mirror. He was looking down at me and smiling.

"Maybe we'd better leave it at that," he said. "I'm not sure if you're ready to go any further."

Call me perverse if you must. I'd been furious that Jackson had jumped me with evil intent. I now found that I was even more furious that he could rouse me to this extent and then decide to walk away. I mean, how dare he?

I was too mad to even say anything. I just used laser eyes at him via the mirror, spluttering incomprehensibly. OK, I was relieved that he wasn't going to rape me, but to bring me to this stage and then turn his back as though I wasn't worth the effort.

"Just kidding," he said with a laugh. "I think you might be ready."

With that he lifted me and tossed me further onto the bed, ordering me to crouch, doggie fashion. When I hesitated he sighed.

"It means on your hands and knees," he said. "Head down, bum up."

I knew that. I only hesitated because I didn't want to do it. No other reason. I moved into the required permission, feeling the bed sink a little as he climbed onto it behind me. I was staring at the mirror again, and I could see his cock bouncing about as he moved. I swallowed nervously, wondering if he'd stop if I asked him to. I wasn't going to ask him to, I decided. He had no intention of stopping and I was damned if I was going to beg.

His hand was on me again, rubbing lightly, and I could feel he was moving my lips apart. I watched him in the mirror and decided I didn't want to watch him. I switched to looking at my own face.

His cock touched me and then pushed in a little. I could see my eyes open wide with the slight shock of it. Then he pushed, not too hard, but firmly, popping my cherry and starting on his triumphant march. I swear, if that had been someone else's face in the mirror I'd have laughed at the expression on it. Seeing it was mine it wasn't quite so funny.

He kept pushing. Not one grand thrust but a series of small nudges, each one taking him slightly deeper, each one causing another surprised look on my face. I stopped looking in the mirror when he gave one last push and I could feel his groin slapping against me.

His hands moved from my hips where he'd been holding me steady while he took me and slapped themselves over my breasts. Looking at them I could see his hands spread over them, erect nipples poking out between his fingers. He brought his fingers together, squeezing my nipples.

Seeming satisfied with his prizes he started thumping me. I was already all worked up, not helped by that little climax I'd had. Now his cock was busy resurrecting all those feelings I'd been suffering from just before my climax. His cock scraped against my passage, then came sliding back in fast. I guess I should admit it didn't actually scrape, as such. He'd got me so hot and wet that his cock just slid along my passage in both directions as if oiled. This didn't stop it from stoking my fires and building on my excited arousal.

In the mirror I could see my bottom bouncing up and down as he banged into me, and it wasn't just the force of his thrusts that was doing the lifting. I was actively humping my hips, helping him, trying to get him to drive in even deeper with each thrust. Don't ask me why I was helping him. It just felt right.

Please don't think I was spending over much time looking in the mirror and watching what was going on. The movement in the mirror was no more than a minor distraction to what was taking place. Most of my focus was on Jackson, or rather, that part of him that was absolutely demanding my attention and not taking no for an answer.

I guess I'm making it sound like the whole thing was Jackson, with me just being the victim. I hate to have to admit it but once he'd brought me to that orgasm with his tongue I got a whole lot more interested in the entire process. Once his cock started heading in I wasn't a reluctant participant so much as willing, even enthusiastic, participant. What he was doing to me, what he was making me feel, was incredible and I wanted more.

Ah, not that I was admitting as much to him or would ever admit it. Between you and me I figured I'd be able to hold this over his head for months, make him dance to my tune every so often. It would be so sweet.

However, for the here and now, I was being ridden hard and I was responding, moving with him, my excitement blazing high and getting higher with every passing second. I was determinedly keeping my mouth closed so that I didn't start telling him how much I loved what was happening, but that didn't stop excited squeaks and gasps from escaping and those squeaks and gasps were coming faster the harder he went.

At the end I could feel a difference in the way he was taking me. He was just about at the end of his run, I figured, which was fine by me as I thought I was about to explode as well. That was my last coherent thought before my climax hit me and in regard to that all I can say is, "Wow."

That climax made my earlier one seem like nothing. I was certainly going to take steps to repeat this experience, although not necessarily with Jackson. I couldn't very well hold his assault over his head if I let him take me a second time, but I'd see how things worked out.

I finally got myself under control, wiped the silly smirk off my face, and glared at Jackson.

"Don't say anything," I said, holding up one hand in a stop sign. "I don't want to discuss it. Please leave."

He opened his mouth and started to say something but I quickly interrupted.

"No. Don't bother saying it. Just leave."

I gave him a real fish-eye of a look, face dead blank, and he hesitated and then backed out of the room. I learnt that look from watching my aunt in action. She can freeze anyone when she gives them the old cold fish-eye look.

All I had to do now was plan a fitting penalty for Jackson. I was pretty sure I'd come up with something.

Ashson
Ashson
8,505 Followers
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evebroughtanaxthistimeevebroughtanaxthistimeabout 8 years ago

Oh yeah, fuck me Bitch! Now get the hell out of my room. And don't let me catch you doing it again! Maybe.

Thanx for sweet story. I'm all shivers.

Evebroughtanaxthistime

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