Intro.

I didn't think much of Ashley. If she was around, I ignored her, and if she tried to interact with me, I acted condescending. We went to High School together and I was friends with one of her friends, Mellissa, who introduced us. Ashley tagged along while me and Mellissa hung out one night, but we made her a third wheel, and the next day at school when Ashley tried to say hi to me while passing in the hall, as if we were now friends just because I was with her the night before, I smirked at her and didn't bother responding.

Ashley was a bit of an airhead with a default facial expression that looked a mix of slight confusion and dumb-innocent inanity. But she was hot. Just not so hot that it could be a big enough distraction from her bimboisms for them to go unnoticed. She had a nice full ass and thick thighs but not at all because she was overweight. She wasn't. She just had an athletic body. Her tits were average size, maybe a B. Her brown hair was permed to curl and her lips were pouty. She always looked like some invisible force was causing her minor hurt. If I bothered to look at her it was to imagine what her lips would look like wrapped around a cock, but I wasn't about to dignify her with the time of day.

Mellissa was hotter, really hot, and though she didn't have much of a soul herself, she was haughty and graceful and knew how to accentuate her sexiness. She was short curvy blond and bit titted, the skinny girl that still somehow managed a huge bust. Her and I were flirty and occasionally fucked. She was popular, Ashley wasn't, and though her and Ashley were friends, she didn't seem to be very nice to Ashley. Ashley was either too dumb or too insecure to stick up for herself, and anyhow, nobody seemed to find Ashley in need of much respect. Somewhere along the high school line people decided she'd be the scapegoat, the one to be picked on if you felt like picking on somebody.

The summer after high school I bought my own house with money from freelance writing and a book I published. The privacy allowed me to live like a maniac, which is mostly what I did.

1.

The phone rang. Shit. I was making garbage art, betting on the muse, wasting time, not really knowing what the fuck I was doing and too manic to want to stop and figure it out. I eyed the phone with suspicion, picked it up, quick, perturbed.

"What do you want? Who is it?!"

"LANCE!"

"Shit, Mellissa, good, you, you're hot. I don't know what I'm doin. Let's make love."

"Shut up. What are you doing?"

"I don't know I don't know."

"What are you doing tonight?"

"This is all I ever get when the phone rings. Those four words: What, are, you, and doing, in that order. Somebody ought to call me and give me something good, like an equation to play the stock market by so I can make millions, or the winning numbers to next week's lottery. All I ever get are people hoping I've got a way out for them. No, I don't. Anyhow anyhow, tonight I'm either fucking you or not fucking you, hopefully the former."

"Shut up. Maybe I'll stop by later."

"Wear pantyhose. With a garter belt. Do you have one?"

"Never mind. Hey, you should hear what Ashley keeps telling me about."

"Ashley? I should huh? Anytime I hear you talk about Ashley you're complaining about her, yet you continue to hang out with her."

"She's alright. Amusing. And she makes me look better."

"You don't need help looking good."

"Well, she's obsessed with you."

"You've told me. I've made it clear to her that she doesn't exist. She continues crushing on me. Whatever."

"Well, see, I think that makes it worse. I wasn't going to tell you this, but she won't shut up about it, and I think she secretly wants me to tell you, so what the hell. Um..."

"Get to it. I'm making garbage art. Shit's sake."

"What the fuck is garbage art?"

"I don't know. Get to it."

"Well, see a few weeks ago I went over to her house to get my lap top. She didn't know I was coming. When I knocked on the door, no one answered, so I just went in. When I walked into her room she was laying on her bed in her underwear with her hands handcuffed behind her back, her legs tied together with clothesline, her pillowcase wrapped around her head as a blindfold, and a piece of tape over her mouth."

"Interesting."

"When she heard the door open, she froze. I ungagged her and asked her what she was doing. She said, 'Nothing.' That's all she could come up with. I said, 'You've found a hell of a way to do "nothing'' I'm just getting my lap top. Have fun with your "nothing."' I put the tape back over her mouth and left."

"Okay."

"Ya. So, she called me later that night, embarrassed, and decided she'd better explain. I said I didn't really care, but she told me a few things. Turns out she's quite the freak."

"Listen, I'm looking at my garbage art right now, half finished, and it's making me feel really shitty. What does this have to do with me?"

"Why do I put up with you?"

"Because I give you better sex than your oaf boyfriend."

"Ya. Anyways, she has a rape fantasy. And you're the rapist."

"No shit?"

"Ya. Make of that what you will. On Saturday she even asked me to tie her up. I did. What the hell. I tied her up and then pushed her into her closet and then left. I don't know how she got out, but she eventually did, cause today she called me and asked if I wanted to go to a party tomorrow. It's at Matt's. Do you want to go? My boyfriend's having some dumb poker night thing with his friends."

"I don't know. If there's free rum I'll go. Otherwise, if I'm going to be sober, I'd rather it be sober without those assholes around."

"We'll find some rum. I want to drink with you. You're funny when you're drunk. And I'm craving sex with you."

"Then come over tonight."

"I can't. My boyfriend wants me to go out to eat with him."

I hung up on her. I went back to my garbage art, and when I found my creativity to be impotent but my cock the opposite, I looked at detective magazine covers on the internet.

2.

The next night I was shooting my pistol in the woods behind my house. I made a smiley face with bullet holes on a tree. My cell phone rang.

"What do you want? Who is it?"

"Uh, Lance? It's Amy."

"Egh, fuck. I'm shooting a tree. Bye."

I hung up. When I fucked Amy she refused to have any fun with it. Missionary. In and out. In and out. Fucking boring. I couldn't even pin her hands together above her head, she got all feminist.

I went back to shooting up the tree. I gave the smiley face a wicked hairdo. My phone rang again. I answered, "Amy, I've got a pistol."

"What?! Lance, this is Mellissa. We're heading over to Matt's in an hour. Will you be there?"

"If you wear a skirt with pantyhose, I'll be there."

"I'm already dressed in something else."

"Then you can have a ball with Matt and all of the exciting people he's invited to his little shindig."

"That's seriously the only way you're coming?"

"Ya."

"Fine. I'll wear a skirt with pantyhose."

"And a garter belt."

"Ya. See you there."

I shot the smiley face between the eyes and went inside and took a shower and got dressed and admired myself in the mirror.

3.

When I walked into Matt's, fellow teenagers were sitting around all over the place, smoking, drinking, being cute, drunk, stupid. Some were just standing in circles, shooting the shit. Some were glued to a tv screen and playing playstation. A lot of subnormal, ugly goons were standing around trying to impress the girls, working devotedly with and despite the lousy hand the good gods of genes and shit luck gave them. They were too goofy to have a chance and too stupid to realize it. God bless them. It seems you haven't gotten around to it yet.

I didn't like the girl situation either. There weren't too many there, and the few that were weren't too outstanding and were already hemmed in by legions of freaks and morons. The only girls I wanted to undress and suck on and bite and plug up and...were a few underclassmen, sophomore or junior girls. I wanted to stick my dick like a knife in their immaturity, in their naivete, in their stupidity and youthful arrogance. I wanted to cock-slay these strange, well-adorned vessels of ignorance and bullshit. I wanted to watch their lousy personalities be magically replaced by an uncontrollable horniness spurred by my charisma, my sexiness, my seven and a half inches. I wanted to conquer everything that was wrong with them and supersede it with the rightest thing I can imagine, a need and willingness to get fucked and debased and used and made into pure hard body teen aged sex. Yes, I wanted all that, but I was 19 and they weren't legal, and I was there to fuck around with Mellissa, get drunk and watch all of these bizarre creatures, these partygoers, in action.

I saw some senior standing in a circle with a bunch of kids leave a bottle of rum on the kitchen counter while he went to take a piss. I took his place in the circle and introduced myself.

"Hey motherfuckers."

"Lance! What up, man?"

"Not my cock with this sausage overabundance. What the fuck, man?"

"Ya, I don't know. What have you been up to this summer?"

"Oh, shit!" I acted like I just remembered something urgent and ran downstairs, but not before sneaking the bottle of rum with me. I wasn't about to discuss summers.

Mellissa was in the basement. She had on pantyhose and a skirt like I asked her, uh huh, very good. I drank fast. Dulling with drunkenness the sights of a party such as this is the only way to make it bearable.

Mellissa was happy to see me. Mellissa was flirty. Mellissa probably wished I'd be her boyfriend instead of the one she currently had, but she knew I wouldn't go for it. Mellissa. I looked at her legs and ass and shot the shit with her and shot the shit with anyone else around. I saw Ashley across the room and accidentally made eye contact with her. Oops.

After a while I whispered in Mellissa's ear that I was going to go to the bathroom and then I was going to take her upstairs and ravage her. She told me to hurry up, but on the way to the bathroom, Matt, the host of the party, approached me.

"What up, dude?" he asked.

"Hey."

"I didn't expect to find you here. Listen, did you steal Mikey's rum?"

"No. I brought my own rum. Tell Mikey to fuck off if he thinks I stole his rum."

"Alright, man, just checkin."

And then Ashley walked up to us, shy, stupid, Ashley.

"Hey Lance," she said, a deer in my brights, a deer with thick thighs and pouty lips and a rape fantasy with me as the rapist. I'd make her think twice about interrupting me while I was just trying to take a piss so I could get back to Mellissa and bring her upstairs to an empty bedroom.

"Hey," I replied, "I heard about your little rape fantasy. If I was going to rape somebody, if I was going to force somebody to have sex with me whether they wanted to or not, why the fuck would I settle for you? I'd go track down Adriana Lima or someone."

Matt laughed and, slightly shocked, said, "Jesus."

Ashley got red, froze, started to say something, faltered and then quickly walked upstairs. I went and took a piss.

When I got back to where Mellissa and I had been sitting, she was gone.

"Where the fuck did Mellissa go?!" I asked this kid we'd been sitting with.

"Her boyfriend just came in here all pissed and took her away. I don't think she's coming back."

"AH, FUCK!! I came here for rum, Mellissa, Mellissa in a skirt, Mellissa in pantyhose, and Mellissa in a garter belt. Now all I've got is rum, this couch, and you. You've got a dick, ugly ass legs that should never wear pantyhose, an ugly ass face, no tits, an ugly ass everything. You're a dude, man, this is a problem."

I sat on the couch and brooded. I wanted somebody's head on a pike. I drank more and more, too much, not so much that I didn't know what I was doing--I was in full control, yes--but enough that I was feeling more and more violent, belligerent, malicious. After a while I was the only one around, shouting obscenities, talking to the walls.

I decided I was going to salvage the night by trying to sleep with one of those younger girls with the tight bodies and the immaturity and all that, but when I got back upstairs, almost everybody was gone.

I walked out the front door and saw where they all went. Two people were fighting in the front yard and everybody else was standing around in a big circle watching. The cretins. I went back inside to find more alcohol.

Then I saw Ashley, apparently the only other person in the house. She was standing in the kitchen, reaching up for a glass with her ass sticking out. It looked good. Her jeans were real tight. Little folds formed in the denim on the backs of her upper thighs. She was wearing a tight cotton t-shirt and adidas. We were the only two around. What the fuck? She didn't deserve it, but I was going to give it to her.

I walked up behind her and wrapped my arm around her chest, grabbing her left tit and pulling her to me, my other hand squeezing her ass. She let out a quiet yelp so I sealed her mouth shut with my hand.

"Ssshh. It's your rapist in shining armor. Let me see you."

I spun her around and examined her. Her shirt was too small to cover up all of her stomach, and the skin exposed was tanned brown. Her breasts moved up and down to the rhythm of her hard breathing. She had thick thighs. I stared her coldly in the eyes and it made her look down at the ground. Pulling her towards me and holding her wrists together behind her back, I squeezed her cheeks together with my other hand and asked her if she shaved her pussy. She nodded yes as much as she could with my hand holding her face. I squeezed her thick thigh and then slid my hand down in her panties. She had a line of short pubic hair just above her pussy but otherwise she was shaved. I spread her pussy lips with two fingers. She bit her lip. She was already wet. This was going to be an easy rape.

"To an upstairs bedroom," I ordered. I trailed behind her, studying her ass while she walked up the stairs. She looked back at me once, timidly. When we got in the bedroom, what looked to be the parent's bedroom, she stood next to the bed and waited for my next move. I stood next to her and told her to strip.

"I want this so bad," she said, taking her clothes off.

"Shut up you dipshit, I'm raping you."

When she was naked I noticed a line of pussy juice running slowly down her inner thigh.

"My god," I said, stopping the end of the line with my finger, tracing it up her leg and then wiping my now glistening finger across her lower stomach.

I sat on the edge of the bed and told her to lay down across my lap, facing upwards. I examined her body with my fingers, squeezing her breasts, pinching her nipples, pinching her inner thighs and then fingering her with one hand and shoving the fingers of my other hand in her mouth. She sucked on my fingers well and moaned from the stimulation to her pussy. My index and middle finger were soaked in dumb-Ashley pussy juice, and when I'd pause the fucking motion for a moment to tease her, leaving only half of my fingers submerged, her hips would gyrate to try and continue the stimulation.

I grabbed her by the hair and pulled her face up to look at me while I told her, "God damn, I've never met a whore as cock starved as you. Lay on the bed and wait for me. No touching yourself."

I watched her lay across the bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to wait. She humped the air a little. I sat on the dresser and smoked a cigarette, watching her. She couldn't take it.

"Please come fuck me. Please."

"Shut up. Don't tell me what to do. I feel like smoking. And rape victims aren't supposed to beg for it. It kinda negates the whole rape aspect, silly." I paused, lifted up my shirt to look at my six pack in the dresser mirror and continued, "I can make you unwilling. You don't want that."

I took my time. When I was just about finished she started fingering herself, so I rushed over to the bed, crawled over her, grabbed her arms away from her pussy, pinned them over her head, and undid my pants. My cock came out fully erect with a pool of precum on the head. 7 and a half inches. She looked down at it and moaned, then bucked her hips to try to connect her pussy with it.

"Stop being so impatient you little bitch. I'm not here to please your desperate pussy. I'm here to use it. Then I'm through with you."

I rubbed the head of my cock against her inner thigh. I rubbed it against her crotch just next to her pussy. I rubbed it in circles around her pussy, pretending to head in a few times but bringing it back outside. I rubbed it up and down against her clit and then put just the very tip of it in her. I paused there and looked at her face.

"Please. I can't stand it," she begged.

"Shut up." I sealed her mouth with my hand and then forced my dick all the way in. I fucked her furiously and left my hand over her mouth to muffle the vaginal sabotage she was screaming, grunting, moaning. I bit her neck and nipples. I thrust my cock in as deep as it could go, held it there, roughly pulled her hair and pinched her nipple, hard, super hard. Before I was about to cum I took my dick out of her pussy.

"Please," she implored, "Keep going. I'm about to have an orgasm."

I crawled up to her face to put my dick on her lips.

"Open up," I said. She did, and then I was spurting into her mouth. I made her swallow it and lick it off of my cock. After I'd had enough I took my cock out of her mouth and lay it across her face, dragging it off when I was ready and leaving a line of cum/saliva across her forehead, nose and cheek.

Walking out of the room and zipping my pants back up, I looked back and saw her fingering herself feverishly. She still needed to get off. As I shut the door I heard her moaning climax. She was cumming.

I went home.