[Part 4](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/10omlea/another_play_night_pt_4_of_5_mf_20s40s_gfe_fdom/)
Author’s Notes (Warnings? Disclaimers?): Back to some heavier stuff again. This isn’t meant to be any sort of broad statement on sexual assault or any sort of apologizing for those who commit it, but focuses on a very specific type that does happen even if no one seems to ever talk about it (I tried to do a little research but came up with nothing on this particular scenario), even though it does unfortunately happen. Again, not based on a specific incident, but loosely on what some people I’ve known talked about. I might do another alt ending at some point that has to do with a different kind of brain problem just to make it match up with the first part, but haven’t started it yet so we’ll see.
Another Play Night Part 5 of 5: Won’t End it There (You Can’t Undo What You Did)
I assumed she was just messing with me as she untied me. “You look pretty worn out, babe. Let’s leave the clean up for the morning so we can get you some rest.” I had a little trouble standing, what with the freshly fucked ass (seriously, was it always like this? She must be better at dealing with pain than I thought). I watched as she began undoing the buckles on her strap as I tenderly took off the ball gag.
As I worked my jaw to get it loosened up again, I kept expecting her to slap my shoulder and tell me she was just kidding about the night being over, but she didn’t give any hint that this was a bit. She grabbed some fresh towels and tossed one to me. “I’m too tuckered to shower, honey. Is it okay if we just go to bed stinky and change the sheets in the morning? Since we just did laundry we have fresh ones ready to go,” she said as she stripped off what few items of clothing she still had left on (the new flannel shorts seemed to have suffered a similar fate as the last pair) and began to wiped the sweat off her body, ending by cleaning up the wetness that was running down her legs.
I dried off as well, mopping the tears off my face and lube in my ass. Her dismissive attitude was starting to kill the mood, but I still wanted to cum so bad. Not just cum, but fuck her, especially while watching her rub the towel over her arms and up under her boobs. The smell of lube and pussy was only making things worse.
She looked over at me as she undid her ponytail and began drying her hair with a fresh towel. “What’s the matter? You’re looking at me funny.” Drying her hair as much as she could, she bent down in front of me, giving me a clear view as she slowly pulled the cat tail plug from her ass. “Ahhh, it’s good to get that out. No way I’ll be able to sleep with this things in.” She glanced down at my cock. “You should probably go rub one out or you won’t be able to sleep either. Here,” She tossed me the bottle of lube, “this’ll help.”
I decided I’d follow her previous advice instead and take the initiative. I walked over and put my hand on her shoulder to pull her to me, but she shrugged me off. “Hey, what are you doing? Play night’s over. I’m ready for bed, so you’ll have to take care of yourself. Maybe we’ll do something in the morning if I’m in the mood again, okay?” She pushed past me gently and walked over to the dresser, getting the jammy bottoms and loose t-shirt that she usually wore to bed.
It seemed like she wasn’t kidding. But then, she’d been fucking with me the entire night, so I really wasn’t sure either way. She hadn’t… actually used the safe word, or even yellow lighted me. I walked over to her as she was doing her usually bed time routing and put my arm around her waist. “Babe! Seriously!” she pulled my arms away from her body and tried to step away. I moved in again and she turned around to look at me, annoyance on her face.
“I said no! I gave you plenty of chances to ride the rides and you blew it, so now the park’s closed. Go in the other room and rub one out and then come back to bed.” She was glaring up at me. I reached up to touch her breast and she slapped me across the face. “No! Stop being an asshole!” She put her hands on my chest and shove me back hard enough to make me stumble.
For some reason this both physically and mentally pushed me over the edge. I stomped over and took her wrists in my hands, kissing her on the mouth while she struggled to break my grip. I pulled back when I felt her bite my lip and tasted blood. “Fuck you!” she yelled and spat in my face. This only made my blood boil more.
I whirled her around and bent her over the bed. I could feel her struggling underneath me, her legs kicking in the air as she tried to get purchase to shove me off, but I put my full weight down on her as I forced her wrists together over her head, then with my other hand I yanked her pants down to her ankles. She wasn’t holding back, and the doubt was growing more in my head, but then I felt the head of my cock brush up against her and felt renewed wetness between her legs. She still hadn’t used the safe word, and my cock started telling me that this was on her now.
With one hand holding her arms, I stepped between her legs before guiding my shaft to her pussy. No foreplay this time, I wanted her. As soon as the head lined up with her opening I shoved hard, grunting in her ear. She cried out and momentarily stopped moving. “Babe! Stop!” she commanded.
It felt so fucking good inside her. My cock had been craving this since she’d gotten home, and it was even better than I remembered it. Soft, warm, tight, and soaking. When she started struggling again I could feel her muscles clenching me, trying to push me out. I couldn’t help but begin pumping, pounding hard into her as she tried to wriggle out from under me. I wasn’t thinking about pleasing her. I wasn’t thinking about whether she liked it or not. In that moment, all that was on my mind was how amazing it was to finally get what I’d been thirsting after.
I was thrusting hard enough to push the air from her lungs, making it difficult for her to speak, but her commands started turning to begging. “Stop! Please babe! Stop! Get out of me!” Without even thinking about it, I clamped my hand over her mouth, my fingers tightly gripping her jaw hard enough that she could only breath through her nose. This didn’t stop her from yelling into my palm as I continued taking her. I started to feel hot tears running over my fingers as the seed that had been building in my balls since she’d jerked me off on to the towel started to flow up my shaft.
She must have felt it too, because as the first spurts shot into her, her cries became a steady moan. Whether it was from pleasure or despair, I couldn’t tell. Either way, I could feel the wetness coming from her increase along with my thick load and her pussy also started clenching more rhythmically. I had to know.
I let go of her mouth and growled in her ear between grunts of pleasure, “Did you just cum on me?”
She let out a sob, “Fuck you!”
My now free hand grabbed a clump of her hair close to the scalp and tugged, “Did you?!”
“Yes!” she started crying harder.
I held my cock deep inside, letting the last of me trickle out in her womb. Breathing heavily, I let go of her hands and she pulled them up underneath her defensively. “Are you fucking done, asshole!?” she yelled through tears.
Was… was that challenge in her voice or was it the power I felt over her as I held her down? It really sounded like she was bating me again, like she was really asking “Is that all you got?” Either way, the intensity of the orgasm I’d just had and the entire situation only made me even hornier. Her hair still in my hand, I forced her head to the side and whispered low in her ear, “Not even close.”
I had tossed the bottle of lube on the bed when I’d grabbed her. Snatching it up, I squirted a glob right on her ass. She’d been parading that little pink button in my face all night, and now I was gonna use it to cum again.
Her struggling resumed with renewed vigor as she felt the cold splash hit her skin. She knew what it meant and she started desperately trying to crawl away from me. I dropped the bottle on the floor as one of her hands reached up and grabbed the wrist holding her head, her nails biting into it. I wrenched it away, seeing blood begin to well up in the wounds she’d caused, and shoved her face down into the sheets.
I slid my cock out of her used cunt, causing a torrent of cum to leak out of her onto the side of the bed. I was still hard enough that I was able to rub the shaft up and down her crack, mixing the lube and cum together. I could almost make out what that she was begging me to let her go into the mattress, but I didn’t care. I moved my hips up and began pressing against her.
Her opening was still loose from the plug she’d been wearing practically all night, so even with my rod only half hard, I was able to push the head in with my thumb. She squealed as I entered, her whole body shaking. The sounds she was making and the tightness of her ass were starting to make the blood rush back into my cock.
One of her hands was able to reach back and rake across the back of my shoulder. Somehow I was able to catch her wrist in my mouth and bite down. This was apparently enough to get her to stop flailing her arms as I heard a muffled “Owwww!” come from under me.
The reinflation of my shaft was pushing itself further into her. I didn’t bother taking the time and care she had when she’d just minutes ago sodomized me while I was tied down. Pressing all the way in one stroke, her legs shot straight out, remaining stiff as I felt the tightness encompass my entire length.
Unlike her pussy, which felt tighter at the entrance and seemed to soften further in, her ass was, if anything, even more unyielding the further I went. I didn’t often suggest anal, and her offering it was even rarer, so every time I was able to fuck her ass was a special occasion. This time, I wasn’t fussing about how it felt, or if I was being too rough. This time it felt amazing to just use it as a cock sleeve to pleasure myself, whether she liked it or not.
As deep as I could go, I held it, more to bask in the sensation than to give her any time to recover. All night she’d been saying “Take take take,” so now I was taking. She was no longer screaming, but every exhaled breath was a groan of pain. Or was it both? I pulled her up for air to get a better listen as I began to give her short, hard pumps, letting her entire bowel caress as much of me as possible as I moved.
“It hurts… it hurts so much…” she was moaning, her face contorted and red. “Please… please pull it out…”
I leaned down and ran my tongue along the side of her face, tasting her sweat and salt as something inside me spoke through my mouth. “I’ll pull out when I’m finished,” I growled.
This response made her clench down on me hard. She reached back again, but instead of trying to claw my eyes out, she placed her hand on my cheek and finally broke character. “Oh my god, that’s so fucking hot!” she moaned.
Her sudden change in demeanor threw my rhythm off a bit. “Don’t stop! Hurts so fucking good!” she begged, pushing back into me. I thrust hard and she started trying to get back in to her role, but wasn’t quite trying as hard now. “Shit! You’re gonna split me! You’re tearing me up!” she whined.
With the new confirmation that she was just as in to it as I was, I let loose once again, leaving it to her to let me know if I was going too far. Taking longer strokes in her ass, I started yelling at her, “Take it, you fucking cum hole!”
It was clearer now that she was moaning in pleasure, but she still winced each time I went all the way in. “Oh god! Stop! Please don’t cum in my ass! Not my ass!”
The way she pleaded with me made my balls swell up again. “I’ll fucking cum wherever I want, bitch!”
This made her break character again, “Oh fuck! You’re making my ass cum…” Her face went slack as her eyes lost focus.
I could feel it, too. Her whole body was responding. Her back arched up against me, and her legs went stiff again. The strength with which she clamped down on my cock made me sense even more the rush of fluid up my pipe and out the head, the end going hot with the force it was leaving me.
“I can feel you deep in my ass…” she groaned out. Saying this drew out extra spurts as I kept spilling in her. I could still feel more leaking out when I collapsed next to her, making a wet sucking sound when my dick slid out.
Neither of us said anything, or even moved, for what felt like half an hour. Eventually she got up and had to waddle to the bathroom with her bottoms around her feet, holding her ass cheeks together with her hands to keep from leaking everywhere. I rolled on to my back and stared at the ceiling as the sounds of farting and gasps came from the bathroom. The toilet flushed and she came back into the bedroom, her pants gone and her legs slightly spread apart as she slowly walked. She resumed her place next to me and laid an arm across my chest.
“I can’t believe you bit my arm…” she grinned at me contentedly.
“Well you did scratch the crap out of me.” I moved my shoulder to reveal little red spots on the sheets underneath.
“Shit, I’m sorry…” Her face scrunched up with guilt.
“It’s okay, baby. I’ll live.” I smiled back, placing my hand on top of hers and caressing her fingers.
She smiled again and sighed. “I was starting to get worried that you’d actually go in the other room and I’d have to come get you, but you managed to rape me real good, stud muffin.”
The word caused whatever had bubbled up inside briefly before to surge. My face dropped and I felt something in my chest collapse in on itself. I tried to turn away before she could see, but I wasn’t quick enough.
“Hey! What’s wrong? What’d I say?”
I tried to brush it off, “Nothin, don’t worry about it.”
She put her hand on my shoulder and tried to role me over to face her, but when I didn’t comply, she climbed on top of me, straddling me and making me look up at her. “No, you need to tell me. What is it?”
My mouth stayed closed as my face began twitching. I tried to avoid looking at her eyes, but she wouldn’t let me. In a stern but imploring voice she begged, “Baby, you can’t keep doing this… You have to let me in. Please.”
She was making it really fucking difficult to shove it all back down. The worried look she was giving me was causing the guilt I was holding deep inside to feel even worse. She finally broke me when she took my arms and put them around her waist before laying down on me and wrapping hers around my neck, her mouth next to my ear when she pleaded once more. “I love you. Please let me in…” I began crying, sobbing like a baby as she stoked my hair and whispered reassurances in my ear that I couldn’t even process. When I could control my voice again, I began to confess to her.
Back when I was younger, a lot younger, when I was with my first “real” girlfriend, we’d been doing what young couples usually do when they start getting intimate. Both of us being from relatively conservative families, and living in a part of the country where the topic of sex was never even mentioned in any sort of educational sense, all we had was movies and the more hidden recesses of the internet that one could sneak on to when the rest of the family was either out of the house or already asleep (back in the pre hand computer Dark Ages). So even though we were both in our early twenties, our combined experience didn’t add up to much.
By the time we were together, I had my own place and she was able to stay over night. We’d tried different positions and some outfits when the slutty Halloween costumes were on sale. We’d even taken a trip to the sex store in the city and come back with a few prizes. So it wasn’t like we weren’t experimenting.
One night, however, I’d woken up with a hard on and gotten an idea in my head. I’d seen some videos online where the girl was in bed and the guy would sneak in to have sex with her while she was asleep. I’d brought the idea up with her before, but she wouldn’t engage it (for reasons I would later find out) and we’d never really actually talked about it. But that night, I’d decided to give it a try. She was only wearing a shirt, and it didn’t take much to roll her over on her stomach. Taking the lube we had handy on the night stand, I used some and got on top of her. She just laid there, silent, the whole time and after I finished she simply stretched and looked up at me sleepily with a smile. It felt so good that… later on that night, still having lube on both of us, I did it again.
The next day she confronted me about it, and it was about the worst experience in my life, though nothing compared to what I did to her. We were sitting on the couch and she told me that what I had done wasn’t okay. That I had actually… raped my girlfriend…
To make matters even worse, she revealed that when she was a teenage, she’d been assaulted while she was asleep on someones couch. I don’t even remember what I said to her. The only thing I remember is crying in front of her and then sitting curled up in a ball in the shower for half an hour.
We kept dating for a couple months afterward, but the relationship fell apart. Eventually we got in to a fight about something and I said it was over, and I never told a single person about what I did, and as far as I know, neither did she…
After I finished talking, it was silent for a bit. My eyes were still running and I couldn’t look at her, picturing a look of horror at finding out how awful I really was. What I’d done to someone I’d cared *deeply* about at the time… *Especially* after what she’d been through… There wasn’t any way that she could feel the same way about me now that it was out…
I started trying to shift her off of me so I could gather some pillows to go spend the night on the couch, giving her time to process and decide what she wanted to do now that she knew what I was capable of, but she held on to me. She sat up a little and I could finally see her expression. Instead of anger, instead of disgust, I could see that she was crying now too.
Seeing that made my face begin to tense up again. “I’m sorry… I didn’t want to say anything because I knew it would mess things up… I didn’t want to ruin… us…”
She took my face in her hand and kissed my forehead. “But, you didn’t know, did you? What you were doing?” The question caught me off guard. I was the bad guy. Why would she ask that?
I shook my head. Schools and parents don’t teach anyone what consent really is even today, and back then, even in a post 2000 world, that kind of information probably wasn’t available outside therapist offices and courtrooms. Rape was violent or involved booze or drugs, not couples.
“Baby… what you did was wrong, and you can’t take it back, but you didn’t do it to hurt her. You had no idea what you were doing. I know you… You aren’t evil. You care about other peoples feelings. Look at the way you reacted. You didn’t deny it, or blame her, or do it again to her later, or to anyone else.”
“Yeah, but… I mean… I traumatized her… I can’t just let that go…”
“Do you know that for a fact?” Again, not a response I could have seen coming. “Even though movies and TV like to spice things up by making it look like every victim spends the rest of their life thinking about it, not everyone does. Believe me, I’ve been doing a lot of reading. You remember when you were telling me how well I did despite what I went through? And it seems like, I don’t know for sure, but if she was able to talk to you about it that calmly right afterwards, that it is possible it didn’t have as big an impact on her as you imagine it did… I guess… you’d have to ask her yourself to be sure…”
I didn’t have any way to do that. It had been years and I had no idea where she was now. “So if you can’t talk to her, and can’t undo it, the only thing it seems like you can do is stop beating yourself up about it all the time and learn that you just need to be better at communicating so things like that don’t happen… Would you hate me and be disgusted by me if I told you that when I was in college I repeatedly got random younger guys super drunk so I could have sex with him?”
“No, but that’s diff…” she cut me off.
“It is different, but it’s still assault. The big difference is that it’s me and not you. You aren’t allowing yourself to be forgiven for something that you would forgive me for immediately, even if it was worse. You have to be better to yourself… If for no other reason than I love you.”
She began to cradle my head in her arms. “Doing something awful doesn’t make you an awful person if you’re willing to grow from it. Even after what my mother… did to me, I still can’t bring myself to hate her. I just need to take that control she had over me away from her. So if you know what you did was wrong, don’t let what happened take more away from you than it has…”
The feeling of acceptance that I was getting was overwhelming. I didn’t deserve it, part of me didn’t even want her to give it to me. The sensation of her arms comforting me was beyond anything I should ever have in my life. Her love should be going to someone better than… me… But I couldn’t deny that it was there, with the way she was looking at me, the sound of her voice.
Again, two realities were crashing into each other, one where I was unworthy of anyone’s love, and the other where I had hers, and it was strong enough to pull me away from the familiar comfort of self loathing. I squeezed her tight, burying my face in her hair, and remembering what I had whispered to her That Night, not even sure if she’d heard me. “I can’t lose you…”
Epilogue
We did end up going to bed even dirtier than before. Thankfully, evolution has granted us the ability to block out unpleasant sensations if they persist long enough, especially smells. At least until one removes themselves and comes back. In the morning, we awoke together, clouds mercifully obscuring the harsh morning sun outside. We both had to peel ourselves off of the sheets, me going to the bathroom (almost tripping over Chekhov’s Slut Paddle) and her going to get coffee. When we both returned to the bedroom after several minutes, the ripeness of the room hit us at the same time, almost on cue.
“Air freshener…” she covered her face with her arm, “Do we have air freshener?”
“I think, maybe in the laundry room?” I looked like I was trying to scrunch my face up enough to squeeze my nostrils shut.
I got to getting the clean sheets ready and (thankfully) she was able to scrounge up an old can of Fabreeze that held the cloud of bodily fluids and unattended anal sex at bay long enough for us to clear out the stained bedding and put them in a garbage bag to be washed with the help of a hazmat suit. Before applying the new bedding, it was decided that first we both needed to wash out stink off, lest we recontaminate the scene. We also agreed that the most efficient way to accomplish this was for us both to shower at the same time.
After getting the water to a nice, slightly less than scalding temperature (it had gotten a little chilly that night), we both climbed in and began rinsing off the top layer of dried cum, sweat, and some of the blood that had hardened on the various scratches I’d received. She reserved the right to clean my cock, so I let her in exchange for being able to clean her boobs and ass (I said I was the clear winner in the deal, but she heartily disagreed). Getting all wet and soapy, we began to go to work on each others fronts.
“So…” she started with a little hesitation, “it didn’t make you feel weird when… I would wake you up with sex, did it?” The connection hadn’t even occurred to me. I would have thought that the link would have been obvious for my brain to make, but since it was her doing it, I supposed that it somehow processed as different enough. I told her that it never had.
“And, just to let you know, I wouldn’t mind if… you know, you were okay with it, if you were to wake me up… in a similar fashion.” She seemed to be emphasizing the point by gently stroking my soapy cock. I said that was good to know and she added, “Any time of night, by the way.” Her grip on me tightened. It wasn’t that the thought hadn’t ever entered my mind again, but every time it had, the guilt came up and killed the mood immediately. For obvious reasons, I had never broached the subject with anyone.
Now though, after last night, the idea stirred something else in me. Without a word, I turned her around and bent her over, her hands resting on the tiled wall and the spray from the shower head falling on her back. She didn’t say anything either, though she did look back at me, biting her lip, as I squatted down slightly to slip my wet cock inside her. The feeling of either water or soap contrasted with the slippery warmth inside her. It was night and day with how good it felt, this pocket of tightness around me. I began to thrust right away, not hard or fast, but not slow either. I was steady, purposeful. I was fucking her because I wanted to cum in her, and she was letting me because she wanted my cum. Her head hung down, water streaming over her hair, as I softly grunted with each thrust. It didn’t take many before finished with a few sharper pumps, making wet slapping sounds against her cheeks. I held myself inside her until the last of me emptied, then slid out and we continued washing each other like it had just been another part of our morning routine.
We ended up fucking again in the middle of getting the bed back together, but with more emotion this time. I trapped her in the top sheet like it was a burrito, and moved in her with my arms holding her close, never taking our eyes off each other. After that, it was easier for me to kindle bouts of intimacy. I felt more comfortable wanting her, and she returned the enthusiasm. We also got better at talking over all, sharing thoughts and worries, letting each other know when something was bothering us before it was allowed to fester, and trying to resolve it together. Play Nights even started becoming more frequent, even revisiting previous ideas in a new light and with different twists. Eventually, we even started talking about possibly bringing someone else in on the fun…
Continued in: Play Night a Trois
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/10q6srd/another_play_night_pt_5_of_5_mf_20s40s_gfe_fdom