[MF] How I [24F] went from hating a guy [20sM] to letting him rail me in approximately four hours.

Hello my lovelies! I have what I hope is a fun story today, and definitely one that is a bit humiliating for me (that’s precisely why I’m telling it, unsurprisingly). Let me set the scene a little bit.

Now that I’ve gotten a bit older and transitioned to a more professional life, I spend a lot less time partying than I used to. More specifically, I spend basically no time partying — unless you count gathering with like maybe ten friends to have a few drinks and talk for a couple hours as a ‘party’. Nevertheless, I still want to be social, and sometimes it feels like I am holding together a disparate group of quickly-diverging college friends through sheer force of will. I’m always the one to plan things, invite people, etc.

As one of the few people in my extended social circle who can afford to live entirely alone with no roommates or anything like that, I end up hosting these events in my apartment more than I would probably like to in an ideal world. It can be fun, I like to cook and entertain and the cleanup isn’t usually too bad, but it can be real irritating when someone you don’t like ends up in your home. Someone like Max.

Max (short for Maximilian, I shit you not) has some sort of weird parasitic attachment to several of the people in my friend group. Honestly, the whole origin of how he ended up hanging out with us is a bit opaque to me, but what I do know is that some of the guys met him playing magic (the card game) and started inviting him to things on occasion. He got his claws into Claire, one of the girls in our friend group, and became her FWB, and from there he just became more and more embedded and now he comes to practically every event. If I “forget” to invite him to one of the events at my apartment, Claire or one of the guys will oh-so-helpfully correct my oversight and make sure he shows up, usually without bothering to inform me.

My tone has probably made clear by now that I’m no big fan of this guy, even after the events of the story I’m about to tell you. There’s a lot of reasons for this. He’s arrogant, he’s rude, he indulges in low-grade “comedic” misogyny a little too often, and just generally acts like he is doing us a favor by deigning to hang out with us. I guess I should also mention some of his more positive qualities to help explain why the other people in the group don’t dislike him as much. He is genuinely pretty funny when the jokes aren’t cruel or sexist, he’s VERY well-off and is quite generous with paying for things when we all go out etc., he’s into all the nerdy things we are into, and it probably comes as no surprise that when you are conventionally attractive, as Max definitely is, you can get away with a little bit more.

So, all that is simply background for one night about three weeks ago when I was hosting one of these events. I had, of course, not invited Max — yet lo and behold, he walked in the door with Claire about half an hour late. I took a deep breath and put on my best hostess face and walked over to greet them. We explained pleasantries. Before I even got around to asking if I could get them anything, Max just said “Hey, Kaetlyn, can you get me a beer?” I just stared at him, a little in shock, as he caught the eyes of one of the guys and walked over to give him a hug. They were laughing in no time. I went back to my kitchen pretty irritated, and did not get him his beer. Instead, I checked on my pot of chili and fussed around, trying to find something to do to delay my return to the living room. After a couple minutes of this, Max walked into the kitchen behind me. “Hey, any word on that beer? I’m painfully sober over here,” he said with this tone of voice that was almost offended I hadn’t gotten him his drink yet. I turned around to face him. “Max, I’m not some maid you can just order around.”

He gave me a wink. “Sorry, sorry, I thought you liked that kind of thing.” My face turned bright red. Of course. When we had all gone up to St. Augustine for the weekend a month prior, we had all gotten very drunk and started sharing our sexual fantasies. I may have mentioned my fetish for being very submissive, not just in the bedroom but in life in general. How I had liked to serve my last boyfriend and basically be a caricature of a domestic, submissive housewife. I fixed him with a solid glare and told him that yeah, I might be into that sort of thing, but that was reserved for guys I actually liked and was, you know, fucking. Not just random dudes who I was barely even friends with anyway.

He took my very genuine anger and frustration and treated it like a joke, giving me a short laugh. “Really? Guess I’ll just have to start fucking you then so I can get the first-class treatment around here.” He said it with this extremely irritating smirk that basically conveyed ‘whether or not we fuck is entirely up to me, not you, silly little girl’. That was the first moment I started to feel a little twinge of arousal, but I stuffed that down. I was **not** letting my terrible instincts/slutty alter ego get the best of me tonight. “Ha, you wish, buddy.”

He looked me up and down, so deliberately that it was obvious he wanted me to know he was checking out my body. And look, I love having my body appreciated. I have nice tits, I put a lot of time in the gym to have great legs and a great ass, so of course I want to show it off a bit. So yes, maybe I did turn away from him and toward the stove with the intention of letting him see said ass, but it was entirely with the intention of making him realize what he couldn’t have. Honest.

What I didn’t see coming was him walking up behind me, giving my ass a firm squeeze, and whispering in my ear. “So how about that beer, Kate?” This was the moment where I knew I was really in trouble. I squirmed just a little bit, a wave of tingly sensation spreading from his hot breath on my ear across my face. I immediately felt the tell-tale warm throbbing of real, genuine horniness.

So yeah, I went to the fridge and got him a beer and handed it to him. I was so embarassed even as I was doing it that I looked away. He gave me a little pat on the cheek. “Good girl,” he said, and I was left totally speechless. He gave me another one of those cocky, demeaning smiles that made me feel absolutely humiliated (and, therefore, even hornier). He whispered to me again, though not right up against my ear this time. “I’m gonna stay after everyone else leaves so you can suck my dick tonight. Just so you know.” Then, before I could tell him that he had the situation entirely wrong and that was NOT going to happen, he walked right on out and left me alone with my thoughts.

The rest of the night proceeded somewhat normally, but I felt myself squirming in my chair a little every time he made eye contact with me. He would hit me with this cocky, knowing look that basically said he knew my weaknesses and was going to have what he wanted from me, and there was nothing I could do about it. Each time, I felt myself get a little hornier. I didn’t actually plan on sucking his dick, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I couldn’t help but imagine myself doing it. Sucking dick isn’t even that enjoyable for me, but the idea of doing it for HIM was so inherently degrading that I was attracted to it like a moth to flame.

Just as he said, he stayed the latest. People kept slowly filtering out, and finally, Claire left without him after he said he was too drunk and I had offered to let him crash on the couch. That wasn’t true, and from her look I could tell she didn’t really buy it, but she left anyway. That left just the two of us. He smiled. “How about you mix me up another drink before I make good on my promise to you?”

“I’m not doing that, Max.”

“Well you’re still here, aren’t you?”

“Of course I’m here, I live here. You’re the one who is overstaying your welcome.”

“Ah, right, right. It must be so stressful hosting these things.” He stood up and slowly circled the room, coming around behind my chair. “What are you doing?” I asked, equal parts worried and incredulous. He put his hands on my shoulder and started rubbing them and *oh my God* it was **divine**. I let out a little moan before I could help myself. “Helping you de-stress so you can relax a little, you deserve some appreciation,” he said, almost sounding heartfelt and kind for a moment. I was a little caught off guard by that. “Then you can go make me that drink.”

I didn’t really know what to say, but good lord did that massage feel good. And the more he massaged me, the hornier I became, and the hornier I became, the less I engaged rational side that reminded me how much I didn’t like this guy and how I would be super irritated with myself if I actually did anything with him. At some point, he leaned down, brushed my hair back, and gave my neck a few light kisses. I’ll admit that I moaned a little more intentionally that time. “So, the drink?” he asked, with a little bit of deliberate playfulness. I got up and mixed him a gin and tonic and presented it to him without saying a word. I knew I’d get myself in trouble if I spoke.

Anyone on this subreddit probably knows what happens to those of us with a little slutty demon inside who sometimes takes control of our bodies and makes us do things we know are very terrible ideas. So it shouldn’t surprise you that said demon immediately took over my body when Max took a sip of his drink, set it down on the counter, and started taking his belt off. Before I knew it, he was in his boxers and I was on my knees right in front of a barely-restrained bulge.

“See? Things always turn out the way I say,” he said, picking his drink back up and smirking down at me as I slowly removed his boxers and revealed a cock that was already mostly erect. It wasn’t the longest I’d ever seen, though it was pretty long, but good lord is he THICK. Beyond that, it was just a nice, really aesthetic dick. I stared at for a bit, transfixed by a sort of genuine artistic admiration, before he reached one hand behind my head and slowly pushed me down onto it.

I sucked his dick for what felt like a million years but was probably only five minutes. Every time I looked up at him, it reminded me of who he was and what I was doing, and the fact that he was going to hold this over my head forever. He’d probably end up telling everyone to brag about it, since I infamously do not normally fuck my friends despite being pretty slutty. And that knowledge made it even hotter, that I was doing something extremely dumb and unwise.

After some time, he ordered me to get up, and I complied without even really thinking about it. He picked me up, earning an excited yelp from me, and carried me into my bedroom where he slowly started stripping off my clothes. He was so slow, so sensual, taking the time to kiss every inch of my body. I asked him if he’d return my favor from earlier. “Nah, I don’t really do that, sorry.” Yep, still an asshole.

Suddenly, it was like he flipped the switch from slow and sensual back to being dominant and aggressive. He flipped me over and ordered me to get on all fours for him, and my body complied before I even fully registered what he said. Then, he entered me, taking maybe three partial thrusts to warm me up before he started legitimately pounding away at me. It was even a bit painful at first, but I felt so full and stretched out and before long I was moaning, then screaming, and finally having the best orgasm I’ve had in well over a year. Instead of giving me time to lay there and savor my orgasm, though, he flipped me over and started jacking himself off before blowing himself all over my face and tits with this deep, animalistic groan that made me feel shit I did not realize I could feel. After he finished, he pulled out his phone and, before I could really say anything, snapped a pic of me.

“What the fuck!” I shouted at him. “Hey, hey, relax. No one will see it. I just like to keep little mementos of my conquests, Katie.” He winked at me. I was *so* fucking pissed that he just referred to me as a ‘conqeust’, especially now that I had been sexually relieved, AND he had called me ‘Katie’, a name he knows fully well I fucking hate. So, that’s the story of how a guy I really hated ended up getting to rail me, and then how I ended up kicking that guy out within minutes afterward, yelling at him the whole time while he laughed like the whole thing was one big joke. 

If I was a normal and well-adjusted girl with a brain that worked fully correctly, that would probably be the end of it, but I can’t stop thinking about what he might do the next time I see him, the next way he might try to get into my pants. So, yeah, the next party, I’m probably going to invite him intentionally. Still hate that bastard, though.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/z9xluq/mf_how_i_24f_went_from_hating_a_guy_20sm_to