Giving Her Fantasy A Fair Shot

"This is insane..." Callum whispered to himself standing at the front door under the full moon, being stabbed by the whistling wind. He had put on an old itchy ski mask and his work coat. He smelt like old cotton and motor oil, with a faint earthy musk. He rubbed his gloved hands together and shifted his weight from one foot to another. I can't believe she talked me into this, he thought. The bedroom light at the far end of the house turned off, leaving the house in an eerie, empty blackness that he was almost afraid to enter. His queue.

He tried to open the front door quietly, but the edge scraped against the frame. It faintly echoed through the pitch-black living room and hallway. As he crept through the house down the hall to the bedroom the floor let out shrill shrieks under his weight. He knew all the spots that didn't creak, but as instructed, he was being loud enough for her to hear.

The door opened quietly. He heard her breathing first. Her nose whistled as she inhaled. Her breathing was calm. He could barely see her figure in the dark. She was lying on her side facing away from the door. Even in the dark he could see her big ass. Her wide hips.

He was getting hard despite himself.

She let out a sigh as she readjusted slightly. He didn't know what to do next, so he turned on the light. She pushed herself up and twisted around to look at him. Her silk top hung low enough to where he could see down it at her perky tits. Her nipples looked hard. Her eyes were so wide, and her mouth was tight. She yelped and pushed herself away from him until her back was pressed tight against the wall and she pulled the blanket up to her neck, as if it would protect her.

Seeing her like that made him feel weird. She looks genuinely scared. He was losing his erection.

"Take whatever you want," she said, raising her knees to her chest and looking down as she spoke. Her voice wavered. She repeated herself, whispering, "Take whatever you want."

Callum stood there. He didn't like seeing her that way. After a few moments she looked up at him, her eyes glistening from the thin layer of tears. Crying on command was her big party trick. She showed it off whenever she could.

"Wh- what do you want?" she asked with a hinting tone, raising her eyebrows. Get on with it, her face said.

"Uh..." his skin was getting hot as he became more flustered and nervous. He felt embarrassed, like he was an actor on stage and forgot his line. He thought the whole thing would be easier, just some rough sex, what's the big deal? But now that he was there, it felt wrong. "I'm gonna rape you..." It was unenthusiastic, to say the least.

"Callum come on," she sighed, straightening her legs and wiping at her eyes. "You have to give this a fair chance."

"I'm sorry, Karen, but I don't like seeing you like that."

"Like what?"

"Scared. Of me." He took the mask off and sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress warped as she crawled to him and put her arms around his neck from behind.

"I'm not scared of you..." she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck and kissed and sucked at his skin. He sighed with pleasure. "It's pretend."

"I know, but-"

"You said you'd give it a fair shot," her voice became sharp and reproachful, but still soft, "if you don't like it, we'll never do it again, but you have to try once. I didn't want to try anal," she continued, "but I did anyway, because you wanted to."

"And you hated it," he raised his voice defensively.

"And I still let you cum in my ass, didn't I?" She smiled then and he couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yeah," he said low, looking down at the ski mask in his hand. "Alright, let's do it."

---

Karen was lying in bed staring at the ceiling, fantasying about what was about to happen. Her heart was racing. Her hands were trembling slightly as she reached over and turned off the lamp, then she rolled onto her side and listened.

She heard the scraping of the front door opening, quieter this time. And the floorboards were quieter too, rather than the giant who stomped his way down the hall before. It made it feel more real, like someone was trying not to be heard. She licked her drying lips.

She didn't hear the bedroom door open, but she could feel the change in the air. He was there. Watching her sleep. She wondered if he was hard yet. She sighed as she readjusted, but this time her breath was shakier, more uncertain. Now she knew for sure that he would try his best.

The light turned on and she pushed herself up and when she turned and saw his wide figure standing in the doorway her pussy wettened. His posture was different. Before it was weak, self-conscious. Now, he looked big and mean. He had somewhat of a dadbod, and she loved his body, but in that doorway, he looked bigger than usual, muscular, like a scary guy at a bar, named Snake or something, with face tattoos and a ten-inch blade hidden in his boot.

They were both still for a moment. Karen had forgotten to play her part. She almost forgot the man in the door wasn't her husband.

Callum suddenly started toward her and she instinctively pushed herself back to the end of the bed. Her back hit the wall hard. She had left a wet snail trail on the sheets from her soaking pussy. "Please-" she blurted before he grabbed her ankle and yanked her. He grabbed her other one. Where the fuck is this coming from? She moaned as he yanked her towards him. She tried kicking, but his hands were wrapped around her ankles, like a shark biting into its prey.

She was helpless to break free.

He pulled her closer so that he was between her legs and her ass was partly over the edge of the bed. "Stop, please," she yelled and tried to crawl back, and for a second, she saw hesitation in his eyes, but that quickly vanished. They had a safe word, of course. Happy Meal.

He let go of her legs, but before she could flee, he grabbed her waist. She half whimpered half moaned and wished the foreplay would end and he'd take her already.

He grabbed her shirt with both hands and ripped it open at the chest. It wasn't a shirt she cared too much for, thank god, she thought. Her tits were out now and he took them both in his rough, prickly gloves and squeezed them. She held back a scream. This is so hot, she thought. She wouldn't have minded if it all ended now and they fucked normally instead. Her pussy was throbbing and leaking. She needed him inside her, but she wanted to see how far he'd take this.

She punched at his arms and his chest and tried at his face, but he stopped her and pinned her arms above her head with one hand, and now his weight was pushing down on her lower abdomen and she felt a pressure building inside her, like a shaken bottle of soda, and if he kept going like that she would burst all over the room. He fumbled with his belt, holding her down, she tried to thrash and almost got away. He slapped her. Not hard, and he was wearing gloves, so it really didn't hurt at all, but he still hit her. He seemed as shocked as her because he had froze, looking into her eyes. She could see under the mask that they were wide. He was waiting for the safe word, she realised. She nodded faintly and a few moments later he nodded back, before returning to his belt. She started thrashing again, but he was holding on tighter now.

His cock was finally out. She stared at it, forgetting about the roleplay entirely. Maybe she's biased, but she thought he had the perfect cock. It was just the right length for her pussy, and its girth was proportioned well, along with his circumcised tip. His balls were droopy, and she liked how they slapped her ass when he fucked her missionary.

Her breath wavered as she stared at it, contemplating what was going to happen next. She looked up into his eyes and started struggling lightly. "Please, no..." she begged. He stroked himself, staring into her eyes.

He pulled at her soaked panties until he had enough room to force his cock into her. They moaned in unison. She was already about to erupt.

"Slap me again," she whispered through heavy breathes.

He slapped her again, a little harder, and she orgasmed. She quirted. Her fluids shot past his cock and up onto his coat. She could hear it dripping off him onto the floor.

---

Callum kinda liked hitting her. Is that horrible, he wondered.

Her legs were tight around his waist, and he realised, as she dripped off his coat, that he had let go of her hands and was gripping onto her hip as he thrust into her. He didn't know when that happened, but she wasn't fighting anymore. They were just fucking.

He took his gloves off and hit her again. Hard. Not his full strength hard, but hard enough that her cheek was a bright red. This time there was a loud smack, and Karen yelped, but no safe word.

He was close.

She could always tell when he was about to cum. Something about his face gave it away, he guessed. She started to rub her clit, digging the back of her head into the bed and arching her back in a way that would knock Callum out for a week. As a result, her tits were in the air, and he took one in his hand. Her pointed nipple pushed back against his hard, callused palm. He guessed she wanted them to finish together.

He put his hand around her throat and she gasped. She rubbed her clit faster. Callum pumped into her faster and harder. Their skin slapped loudly together, and his balls smacked her ass with each thrust.

Karen tensed up, and when Callum let go of her throat she screamed. He stopped holding back and came inside of her as she orgasmed. He didn't think he had ever cum so hard.

They just stayed there catching their breath. Maybe a minute passed while they both looked at each other, his softening dick still inside her.

Finally, Callum pulled out of her and watched his warmth leak out. Karen reached down and rubbed her pussy, covering her fingers with his cum. "That was," she said, putting her fingers into her mouth and sucking his cum off, "amazing."