From his hunched position, Nick's gaze darted across Katie's sprawled-out form, his heart beating unsteadily. She looked vulnerable and disheveled in sleep, head tilted to the side with lips slightly parted, one limp arm hanging off the edge of the couch. Her top was bunched up at her neck, one bare breast plump in his hand, the nipple of the other reddened and glistening. Her skirt was twisted around her waist, her legs obscenely spread around his bulk, his fingers still poised over her white panties, and the heady perfume of her cunt drifted up to his nose...
DISCLAIMERS:
The author of this story has read and accepted the rules for posting stories. They guarantee that the following story depicts none of the themes listed in the Forbidden Content section of the rules.
This is a fantasy that depicts things that would be unforgivably immoral and very illegal in real life. This story, and I, do not condone rape.
Title: "Uncle" Nick
Author: @chloevee
Content Warnings: Somnophilia, psychological abuse, but despite the title, no actual incest.
Author's note
All characters are entirely fictional and unambiguously eighteen or older when involved in any sexual acts. That being said, the backstory depicts childhood memories, at vague and indeterminate ages, in which no sex acts take place.
This was the first story I ever published, back on RavishU in March 2024. I intended to repost it here essentially as it was initially written, but... well, I mentioned it was my first story, right? Yeah, I cringed. A lot.
This is essentially the same story, but let's just say it's evolved from the version that was on RU.
The story comes in at about 5,500 words--just over the "short" story limit. It's a slow roll--about half of that is backstory. If you want to skip ahead to the steamy parts, you'll have to scroll for a bit, though there are some separators that should make the major transitions easier to spot.
"Uncle" Nick
Nick was dreaming of her again. Tomorrow he would be all guilt and self-recrimination, but in this place there were no such virtues to trouble him. He gorged on the dream, a man too-long starved, now a glutton with a hunger that could never be sated.
It was Katie in his arms. Always Katie. With her back pressed into his front, he breathed in her wildflower scent. It was just like the way he had held her as she drifted off, snuggled up close, her delicate features peaceful and innocent. Now his hands roved over her delicious body, greedy after how he had spent the evening--tense with restraint and painfully hard, driven half mad by having her so, so close, but always out of reach.
"Uncle Nick", she had called him since they were children. It was ridiculous, really--he was only a couple years older. But where he had been practically on his own since they'd met, Katie was a princess who led a charmed life and the pride and joy of Barbara and Frank, her two loving parents.
Nick had just moved in next door and started at Eastbrooke Middle School when his mom first got sick. It was just the two of them, so he'd stepped up, picking up the slack when she wasn't feeling well. At first it was just a few extra chores. But as her illness progressed, the work kept piling up, and it wasn't long before Nick was caring for himself and his mom. Eventually she could barely get out of bed, and they were left to live off of the inconsistent child support checks Nick's father sent. One day, trying to figure out how to pay the electricity bill, he'd made the mistake of asking a teacher how to write a check. Later he overheard her debating with the school councilor if they should "call someone". After that, he was careful never to let on how bad things were.
Nick had always looked mature for his age, but those months aged him years. By the time he started tutoring Katie for the extra cash, no one thought it strange when Barbara called the somber pre-teen a "nice young man".
That first day, trying to get Katie to focus was exhausting. Hunting down her homework and something to write with was an ordeal in itself, then she managed to lose track of the pencil while still seated at the table. She would zone out, lost in a daydream, and the one time he thought she was actually working, he found her doodling in the margin. Worst of all, she had a thousand questions for every problem on the short worksheet, made all the more time consuming because they were usually insightful and entertaining.
When answering one of those questions, he'd noticed a slight quirk at the corner of her mouth, a sly smile that she didn't quite manage to hide. He stopped mid-sentence when it dawned on him that her question had not been the flighty whimsy he had believed, but a stalling tactic, crafted to keep him distracted. It startled a laugh out of him, and it was such a foreign feeling that he was left stunned for a moment. Lying in bed that night, he realized that for that whole hour he'd spent with Katie, he hadn't worried about his mom once. He couldn't remember the last time that had happened.
It had been a joke the first time, with an eye-roll, she'd called him "Uncle Nick", teasing him for the stern way he scolded her. But it stuck, and as time went on, he had acted as her minder, mentor, and confidant. As much as she came to look up to and count on him, he grew protective of and devoted to her, and harbored a secret, starry-eyed adoration. She was the best part of his day. And after his mom passed, when he had been drowning in grief and loneliness, Katie had been his lifeline, the only spot of color in a world gone gray and dull.
As she got older, things had gotten... complicated. In any other circumstance, their age difference wouldn't have been noticeable. But to him, she seemed so young, so innocent, so... perfect. When his once child-like crush started to turn into something less innocent, it made him feel dirty.
So, he tried not to notice that she looked less like a kid with each passing day. And when he lay awake at night, he tried so damned hard not to imagine doing things to her that he had no business even thinking about. Even so, his nights were filled with the entirely too-adult things he had noticed despite his best efforts, and all the movie-like thoughts his unruly imagination could supply.
Things got truly unbearable when she was in high school. She had always treated him with easy affection, but now it was a curse that he was addicted to. The excited hugs she greeted him with--when he could feel the press of her breasts into his chest, and had to fight to keep his hands from wandering below the curve of her waist--were too close and held too long. When she started dating, Nick was always outwardly friendly to her boyfriends. He would inquire politely about their plans and wish them a fun time, while in his mind he murdered the boy a thousand times over. Then sometimes she would say things that she didn't realize, in her naivety, sounded entirely different to his filthy mind. "I'm all yours!", and, "I'm so dirty. I've GOT to get out of these clothes!" and once even, "I need you."
It was that last one that nearly did him in. It was outside of Grounded, the coffee shop where he worked, just after a fight he had seen through the window with one of her oft-murdered boys. Putting her little hand in his, she looked up at him with no hint of mirth in her puffy, red-rimmed eyes. "Nick, I need you." He involuntarily took a step closer, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, gaze raking up and down her body. "Please? Take me home?" He might have done something truly stupid then, but his eyes snagged on the book-bag slung over her shoulder, which was a stark reminder of her high-school status.
That brought him back to his senses, and he realized what she really meant. He took a step back, unable to look at her, and ran a hand through his hair. "Of course Katie-Pie," he replied, using the silly nickname to hammer the point into his thick skull. "I can give you a ride home." The car was silent as he drove, but for the internal castigations raining down on Nick. He was absolutely disgusted with himself. She had been coming to him for support, and here he was imagining her naked in his bed. She was not yet 17, for christ sake!
Katie's parents had kept Nick on as her tutor all that time--in part because he was the only one who could get her to focus, but also because he and Katie were so close, and they could deny their daughter nothing. But something had to change. In an effort to distance himself, he told Katie the next day that his schedule was too busy--which was true enough, if not the real reason--and he didn't have the time to tutor her anymore.
But even after they stopped meeting daily, still, Katie seemed to be everywhere he went. Grounded was a popular place to study, and she seemed to always show up during his shifts--frequently enough that he almost wondered if she planned it that way. When he checked the mail, he would often find her already heading toward the post that their mailboxes shared, always ready with a playful grin and a clever barb. On many summer afternoons, she would be in the pool, splashing and giggling with friends, and with a perfect view from his second story bedroom next door, her skimpy bikinis revealed entirely too much bare flesh for comfort.
As Nick neared graduation from Ridgeview Community College, he received a coveted scholarship from The Marrow Fellowship that gave him his pick of universities. Late one night as he stared bleary-eyed at university websites, Katie traipsed through his head in that little red bikini, begging him to tug on the lace at her neck. God, he felt like such a pervert. He knew if he stayed so close to Katie, eventually he would break and either ruin their friendship, or worse, ruin her. So, though he felt like he was cutting off a limb, he only submitted applications to universities that were at least an hour away.
It was a bittersweet relief to be away from her. He finally had a reprieve from constant temptation, but she still haunted his thoughts and dreams. He missed her teasing, her laugh, and even her randomly blurting out ridiculous thoughts. But he knew he had done the right thing, because not a day went by that he didn't imagine her naked body under him and the words, "Nick, I need you. Please?" on her lips.
It had been over a year since he'd moved away. When he came back to town over break, finally ready to tackle the last of his mom's things still in storage, he knew it would be a mistake to see Katie and he swore to himself that he wouldn't.
But then he walked into the grocery store, and there was Barbara and Frank, all warm smiles, pushing a cart toward him and calling his name. When they invited him to dinner, his mind went blank and he couldn't for the life of him think of a good reason to say no. After a pause long enough that they started to look concerned, he gave in. With a strained smile, he told them he was looking forward to it and stumbled back to the car, groceries forgotten.
Then, oh gods, when he laid eyes on her...
Frank yelled through the door that he should let himself in. He did, just as he had many times before. Then he stopped dead in the open doorway, transfixed by the sight of her.
Folded into a diagonal vee, back wedged into a cushion and legs dangling over an arm, she would have looked awkward if not for her obvious ease. One toe bobbed to an unheard beat, drawing Nick's eye up the long expanse of tan legs to thighs unmolested by the denim of her tiny shorts. A halter top bared the curve of her midsection, soft shadows darkening the slight dip of toned abdominal muscles, and stretched thin across perky breasts, the white fabric straining to contain them.
Lit by the soft glow of a tablet, her heart-shaped face was set in an expression of intense focus, almond-shaped eyes darting back and forth across the screen, headphones blocking out the world. Her full lips were tense with concentration, but one corner subtly curved into a secret, amused smile that Nick knew from experience usually meant trouble. Dark, tousled hair framed a delicate jawline and high cheekbones, and tumbled around naked shoulders, as careless and untamed as the girl it crowned.
Nick's breath caught and his dick leapt to attention. She was everything -- sunshine, innocence and mischief, all bundled up in a package of delicate elegance. And to his depraved mind? Pure, unadulterated sex. By the time he was able to pull himself together, he was grateful that she had been too absorbed to witness his ogling.
Then she glanced up and spotted him. She beamed up at him so bright that his heart skipped a beat. She sprang up and flew across the room, nearly bowling him over. While she clung to him in a embrace so tight that every inch of her body was plastered to his, he did his best to angle his hips to the side to avoid stabbing her with his rapidly growing erection. Lost in the intoxicating experience of being near her again, he didn't hear a word she said until the name "Uncle Nick" finally pierced the fog.
He hadn't realized how much he had come to resent that term of endearment until that moment. He felt sick, and everything inside him, so fevered a moment before, went cold.
Over dinner he struggled to make polite conversation, his heart aching and his dick stubbornly throbbing, while they chatted about her grades, and her swim meets, and her fast-approaching graduation. Then Barbara mentioned that they would be going out of town for the weekend. And hey, maybe he could stay here and keep an eye on her, "...for old times sake."
Nick choked on a forkful of green beans.
Everyone looked at him with concern, but he waved them off. They went back to the conversation, politely ignoring his coughing and wheezing, while any protests he might have made went unvoiced.
Katie had no such problem. "But I'm 18 now, not a child!" she whined childishly. "I don't need a babysitter."
Unhelpfully, his mind flashed through images of her every perfect curve, most definitely not those of a child, doing nothing to make breathing any easier.
"Oh, come on," Barbara said, "it'll be fun!"
"It would put our minds at ease," she pleaded.
"No point in Nick paying for a hotel when we have an empty guest room," Frank pointed out.
"Don't you two want to catch up?" Barbara cajoled. "You used to be so close!"
Eventually, Katie conceded that it would, in fact, be fun, and that she did, after all, want to catch up.
"It's settled then!" Barbara declared, as Nick desperately sucked down a draught of water.
Carefully placing his glass on the table, Nick cleared his throat. Flummoxed by the turn of events, and maybe, secretly, excited, he ignored the small, cowardly part of him that was relieved that the decision was out of his hands.
"Oh-okay," he finally managed to stutter out. "I mean, eh-hem, yeah, if you think that would be best."
That's how he found himself, two nights later, sitting stiffly beside Katie, watching a movie that he hadn't really seen, while she innocently burrowed into the carefully restrained circle of his arms.
It had been sheer, agonizing, delicious, torture. He had been acutely aware of her warm, slight weight, of every brush of her silky skin, and of the crush of her curves as she wriggled into him. He spent every painful moment resisting the urge to touch her, to kiss her... to throw her down, tear off her clothes, and rut her like the crazed animal he feared he had become.
Katie had drifted off in his arms, and, exhausted after an endless evening of clinging to his self-control in a white-knuckled fist, he followed.
Now, safe within the refuge of a dream, the weight of crushing guilt fell away and everything he felt for Katie, amplified after their reunion, came rushing to the surface. He gave in and let himself indulge in those secret, shameful urges, at least in his own mind.
He'd had countless dreams of Katie, but this one was by far the best--so visceral, so tangible. She was in his arms, just as she had been when they'd drifted off, her body, warm and soft, pressed against his. One arm curled under her body, long fingers splayed over her flat stomach, tucking her ass into his crotch. The other slung across her shoulders and locked around her arms, and his face nestled into the crook of her neck. He breathed in her wildflower scent, only now there was an undertone of something new, something deeper... the hint of clean sweat and woman.
Eyes closed, he traced the curves of her body with his hands, slowly, reverently, wanting to explore and learn every swell and hollow of this territory he had been so long denied.
Cracking his eyes open, he leaned back to take in her hourglass silhouette. His eyes swept from the graceful arc of her spine to the dip of her slim waist, the curve of her hips, and the subtle swell of her ass at the base of her spine. The back of her skirt was bunched up, and a hint of bare ass peeked out where her cotton panties had ridden up. With one finger he followed the line where tanned flesh contrasted with creamy pale skin, then cupped the round swell.
With a soft, contented sigh she wriggled closer, and the friction of her ass against his crotch sent a bolt of lightning straight into his dick. He tugged open his fly and freed his cock, huffing out a soft groan as he bucked his hips, sliding his length against the soft flesh of her rear and leaving a wet trail of precum.
The motion jostled her, and she stirred, brows furrowing. He froze.
Even though this was only a dream, (He was dreaming, right? He had to be, he insisted to himself,) some instinct warned him against waking her. So he took in long, slow breaths, regaining a measure of control and scolding himself to slow down.
Levering himself up to one elbow, he guided her back, angling her torso towards him. Stretched out beside him, she looked so vulnerable, her messy hair in disarray and long lashes fluttering in sleep. Of their own accord, his hips rocked, and half-mesmerized, he watched for any sign of rousing.
Again, her brows furrowed, and her mouth formed into a little pout. She was only dreaming, he realized. Then he recalled, smiling down at her affectionately, that she had always been a ridiculously deep sleeper.
His eyes raked over her body. He pushed her camisole up to her neck, uncovering her midriff and her satin-clad breasts. His gaze landed on her slightly parted lips, where a tiny drop of drool trickled from the corner of her mouth. He ran a finger through the wetness and drew it over her plump lower lip.
To his surprise, her tongue crept out and slid over his finger. He took in a sharp breath and his hips jerked. Without deciding to do so, he pushed the digit forward. And, oh fuck, she wrapped her lips around it and sucked once before her mouth went slack again, lips still parted, his finger resting on her tongue. As if in a trance he sank the finger in deeper, and holy hell, she responded with short little smacking sucks.
Fuck, he couldn't take another second of this.
Guiding her onto her back he eased out from behind her. Careful not to disturb her, he swung a leg over her and lurched off the couch, steadying himself on the coffee table. He made quick work of stripping himself bare, then he was kneeling on the floor by her side.
Placing his hands on the inside of her knees, he pulled them apart, as if drawing open a curtain on a grand stage. Well-muscled thighs parted to expose white cotton panties, with the barest hint of a dark spot at their center. He crawled between her thighs and sat back on his heels, hardly able to choose what to devour first of the feast laid out before him.
One by one he peeled down the cups of her bra, riveted by the soft bob of each breast at the tug of fabric. He palmed both breasts, then squeezed and massaged the soft weight, the flesh plumping around the indent of his fingers. Leaning down, he dragged the flat of his tongue up the underside of one breast, then sucked the hard nipple into his mouth.
In her sleep Katie let out a faint murmur and arched fitfully.
An eager hand followed the crease of her inner thigh to her panties and felt the damp heat at their center. The lurid sensation, so vivid against the sensitive pads of his fingers, brought him up short. Stilling, he released the nipple from his mouth and drew back slightly. Something terrible broke free from the darkest recesses of his mind, and a tremor of unease pricked at his spine as it approached.
From his hunched position, Nick's gaze darted across Katie's sprawled-out form, his heart beating unsteadily. She looked vulnerable and disheveled in sleep, head tilted to the side with lips slightly parted, one limp arm hanging off the edge of the couch. Her top was bunched up at her neck, one bare breast plump in his hand, the nipple of the other reddened and glistening. Her skirt was twisted around her waist, her legs obscenely spread around his bulk, his fingers still poised over her white panties, and the heady perfume of her cunt drifted up to his nose...
Suddenly, he knew. Oh, fuck, he knew.
He was not dreaming.
He was awake. Appallingly, exquisitely awake.
On some level he had known for awhile, he realized. But not with the stark clarity he did now. This was really happening. From this moment on, he was wholly responsible for his very real actions and their very real consequences.
Time seemed to freeze as a small voice in his head screamed. It wasn't too late. He could stop right now, never see Katie again, and hate himself forever for this unforgivable violation of the girl he adored.
Then, time unstuck and Nick felt a deep stab of regret.
He couldn't do it. And, if he was honest with himself, there had never been a choice.
No, there was nothing in this world that could give him the strength to stop now.
The need to feel her from the inside took hold of Nick with such force, it took his breath away. He yanked her panties aside, probed between her slick folds, then, finding her entrance, dipped two fingers in. Katie gasped and twitched in her sleep, but he hardly noticed because holy fuck! Feeling her wet flesh snug around his fingers was pure carnal rapture, so overwhelming he felt lightheaded.
He withdrew his fingers and sucked them into his mouth, his eyes drifting closed with a soft moan as the taste of her exploded on his tongue. Again he sank his fingers into her, deeper this time, and Katie groaned, shifting restlessly.
He bent down to hungrily suck the other nipple into his mouth, laying himself out so he could grind his aching cock into her leg, while he slowly pulsed his fingers in and out. With increasingly noisy moans, she rocked her hips, her movements less sluggish as she was slowly but surely dragged from sleep.
Gradually, he quickened his pace and moaned around her breast at the soft squelching noises that sounded from her increasingly soaked cunt. She was right on the edge of consciousness, her crooning sighs swelling to a chorus of mewling moans. Playing her body with single-minded focus, he curled his fingers and circled her clit with increasing intensity until, with masterful timing, he pinched her nub and bit down on her nipple.
Katie screamed awake, toes curling and body arching nearly off the couch as she pulsed around his fingers. Nick gave her breast one last hard suck before extracting his fingers and leaning back with satisfaction. She was still twitching in the aftermath of her orgasm when he peeled off her panties and positioned himself between her legs.
Opening bleary eyes, she blinked, struggling to bring her vision into focus. She shook her head in an effort to clear it, just as he notched himself at her entrance.
"Uncle Nick?" she rasped in confused alarm, instinctively raising her hands to push him away. But he was having none of it. He captured her wrists in one hand and pinned them over her head, his face hovering inches over hers.
"I am NOT your uncle," he snarled.
Then he surged forward, plunging deep into her shuddering channel in one long thrust.
With a garbled warble she tried to lurch away, but skewered on his cock with wrists locked in his hand, there was nowhere to go.
Black spots danced in Nick's vision and a shocked groaning noise came from his throat. Even his most vivid fantasies could not compare to feeling Katie's hot cunt rippling around him. Her inner walls strangled his cock--god, she was so fucking tight--and she must be in pain.
With effort, he held himself still, letting her acclimate to his girth. He listened to her labored breaths as her fists clenched in his grasp, her whole body rigid. He managed to hold himself back long enough for her inner muscles to relax just the tiniest bit, before need grabbed hold of him and dragged his hips back until his tip was poised just inside of her entrance. Then he fed his length into her again, achingly slowly, inch by inch, and groaned long and low at the sensation of her narrow channel giving way and reluctantly taking him in.
In the last few minutes Katie's mind had been clouded by sleep, an intense orgasm, and a sudden jolt of pain stabbing into her oversensitive core. Now, as Nick dragged from her body on another backstroke, she blinked hard, apparently trying to clear her head and make sense of what was happening to her. She focused on Nick, and those big, dark eyes pleaded up at him, the panic of growing understanding lurking in their depths. Yet still, she looked to him as if he would make everything better, because that's what he always did.
In the beat between thrusts she whispered again, "Uncle Nick...?" her voice quavering.
Nick wasn't sure what she saw in his expression, but she flinched.
"Nick..." she corrected, real fear in her voice now, lower lip trembling.
But it was too late. He growled and drove into her punishingly. She threw her head back and cried out at the ruthless invasion. But with some satisfaction, Nick heard pleasure in that cry, under all the shock and pain.
Nick pounded into her in long, hard thrusts, jerking her body back and forth on the couch. Eyes desperate, Katie's lips parted in the beginning of some plea, but he wouldn't allow it. He smashed his mouth down on hers, forcing his tongue between her lips in a wild, dominating kiss, refusing to hear whatever protest she may have voiced.
Every time he slammed into her, she let out a muffled, squealing grunt. She strained against his hold, but he didn't let up. His thrusts were rough but measured, slamming down hard with every deliberate blow, followed by an achingly slow withdrawl and a pause at the apex--just long enough to anticipate what was to come--before descending on her again. Their breath came fast and shallow as he held her mouth hostage, his control over her body absolute. The fight slowly drained from her, her limbs finally going slack in his grip. He sucked her tongue hard and drove into her once more before finally breaking the kiss and releasing her arms.
Both of their chests heaved as Nick pulled back and clasped onto the back of her thighs. He pushed her knees back to either side of her head, folding her in half and exposing her vulnerable pussy at the perfect angle for him to take her. He buried himself in her perfect, magnificent pussy again and again, his pace steady. Staring down at her beneath him, flushed and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his intent gaze jumped back and forth between the heave and bounce of her breasts to the sight of his shaft splitting her open.
The sound of a strangled sob broke through his frenzied trance and his eyes snapped up. The sight of her pretty face, twisted in a rictus of ecstasy and misery, hit him like a ton of bricks, and the tears spilling from the corners of her eyes made his stomach clench. His pace stuttered, then he stilled, eyes squeezed shut and arms trembling, his breath coming in ragged pants.
No, no, no... he wasn't ready for this to end, not yet. He had needed her so badly for so long. Now that he had her, he refused to let anything get in the way. He couldn't let himself think of her tear-stained cheeks; wouldn't allow himself to see the uncomprehending hurt in her eyes.
With a snarl he shoved away those thoughts and flipped her onto her stomach. She let out a startled squeak. He wrenched her up and bent her over the arm of the couch then pushed up the back of her tangled skirt. Spreading her ass cheeks, he watched his cock burrow into her sopping wet pussy and they both moaned as he again bottomed out inside of her.
Pinning her down with his weight plastered to her back, he began to thrust. The words he rasped into her ear, punctuated by the sound of his grunts and the slap of flesh on flesh, were crazed.
"You are so..." Grunt. "fucking..." Grunt. "beautiful." Grunt. "Do you have..." Grunt. "any..." Grunt. "fucking..." Grunt. "IDEA..." Grunt. "how badly..." Grunt. "I've wanted..." Grunt. "to fuck..." Grunt. "this tight..." Grunt. "little..." Grunt. "cunt!?"
At his filthy words she clenched--in spite of herself, Nick was sure--and his answering chuckle was low with an edge of bitterness.
He wrenched her off the arm of the couch and yanked her hips up, until her pert little ass was pointing straight up in the air. She fell forward, face pressed into the cushion, and he slammed into her with the force of all his pent up frustrated lust, finally breaking free after years of repression.
"What the FUCK..." Slap "did you think..." Slap "would happen..." Slap "when you THREW yourself at me..." Slap "wrapped yourself..." SLAP "around me..." SLAP "and rubbed my face in..." SLAP "these perfect..." SLAP "fucking..." SLAP "...tits!?"
His voice lowered to a dangerous whisper and he slowed to controlled, powerful thrusts. "Then you told me sooo sweetly..." Slam. "'I missed you so much...'" Slam. "'Uncle he finished with a snarl.
"And THEN..." he nearly shouted.
SLAM
"you rubbed..."
SLAM
"ALL OVER me..."
SLAM
"ALL..."
SLAM
"NIGHT..."
SLAM
"LONG!"
SLAM SLAM SLAM
He pistoned into her savagely, and she released a keening wail in a staccato of huffs forced out with every blow. Her walls began to shudder around him, and he drilled into her faster and harder than he thought himself capable of.
In a feral, guttural whisper he told her,
"I am NOT..." POUND "your fucking..." POUND "uncle!"
He speared her with one more violent thrust, then, with one hand around her throat and the other delving between her legs, pulled her back against his chest. Digging his teeth into her shoulder, he thrummed her clit and pounded into her.
She arched her back and screamed, strangling his cock in powerful, rhythmic pulses. With great effort, he held back his own release as her cunt tried to milk it out of him, wanting desperately for this to last just a few... more... moments...
He let her collapse forward. Holding her hips in place with a bruising grip, he fucked her with desperation-fueled force. Then, he was lost. He came long and hard, clenching his ass in repeated, forceful jerks to lodge himself just that much deeper. For what felt like an eternity he spilled all of his buried rage and guilt and need, and he stuffed her full of it--spewing the mess into her deepest recesses until her insides were as filthy as his.
For an endless moment she hung shuddering from his grip as the twisted snarl of his lips slowly relaxed. Their breathing gradually slowed and his grip slackened. He slipped from her and stared, watching her swollen red cunt weep milky cum.
Somewhat shell-shocked, he gathered her into his arms, pulled her back into his chest and stretched them out on the couch. Whimpering softly, she wriggled closer, seeming, absurdly, to seek comfort from him.
Thoughts he refused to acknowledge clawed for his attention, but he shoved them away. Instead, he tried to memorize how it felt to hold her in that moment--her wildflower scent mixed with the smell of sex, the way her body fit perfectly into his, her limbs soft and pliant in his arms, her sensitive skin bare and flushed pink under his hands.
She's mine. he thought. I'll never let her go.
Though an insistent part of his mind supplied an endless list of the reasons he would surely be forced to. His embrace was steely, possessive, clinging to her against the many harsh realities that would try to take her away.
Katie fell into an exhausted sleep almost immediately, utterly spent. But Nick lay awake for a long time in the aftermath of what he had done, staring at nothing, heart thundering in his ears, and the word "rapist" echoing in his head.
That is, until he found his hand kneading her breast, his lips pressed to the gentle arch of her neck, and his cock rigid and needy. Katie was awoken by Nick's shaft sinking into her perfect, filthy cunt, to be ravaged for the second time that night, but certainly not the last.
Feedback appreciated, as always.
