Jarring Passions

-- -- -- -- --

I'd like to thank my editor and friend TekNight for invaluable advice and corrections. This story was requested by JessiePi.

-- -- -- --

I hate her. Oh god, really, seriously, I hate her. Big words, I know, but I'm a big guy, muscular even, I can say stuff like this. And not just her. I hate waiting, I hate this train station, I hate all these stupid people around me, the sun shining like it's a nice day, those annoying birds. And most of all, I hate myself.

Look at me, standing amongst these boring folks, waiting for other boring folks to step onto the platform. They'll pretend they're happy to see them, chat about things like the nice weather or uncle whocares - man, if only I had a shot gun. The worst thing is, I'm about to do the same.

She will step off the train, walk up to me with that careless strut of hers, hug me, and there'll be nothing left of me again, just like before. Just like every time we do this. I don't know what she does to me, but it turns me into a fuckin' oversized puppy carrying her backpack to the car. I'm such a weak, easy bastard. I can't stand that she does this to me and I never get what I want from her. Not really, anyway. But she teases, man, she teases. She drives me crazy. Why am I even doing this?

And then she's standing in front of me, and I remember why.

"Hi there! Missed me?" she says, smiling that sweet, intimate, confident smile of hers.

Her eyes sparkle. The soft, hot summer breeze messes up her hair, blows her summer dress against her body. She looks good. Damn.

"Nah, not for a second," I joke.

Sure, totally. Except for all those times I jacked off to thoughts of her begging me to cover her tits with my cum. She even knows about it. Standing here, amongst these decent people, in broad daylight, I can't believe I told her that I think of her when I masturbate. But I didn't stand a chance, she teased it out of me in the dead of night, during one of her sleepovers. What she doesn't know is that my fantasies never end in a very nice way. Not at all. I'm such an asshole.

She laughs and says, "Come here, you!"

She hugs me. I don't deserve that. My heart's pounding. Her forehead touches my chin. I take a deep breath, smell her hair, feel her tits against me. I have to make an effort not to let my hands wander down to her lovely, curvy ass. Don't be a jerk, keep 'em on her back, it's not that hard... When she lets go, I pick up her backpack.

As we drive into town, we talk, and I relax a little. She asks about how friends that live down here are doing. I tell her one of our ex roommates is having health issues. We talk about how hard it is to find decent jobs.

The sun hangs in the sky, deceptively, like it always does in the summer, a piece of candy spat out on the sidewalk, stuck there, pretending there's still a lot of day to come once dinner time is over. We decide on noodles and sit down at a tiny red plastic table in a small, noisy noodle bar, where everything looks like it is disposable, mostly because it really is.

We reminisce for a bit. It's been years since we both lived in that big dorm. With fifteen rooms per living unit, there were always new people living there, and she, I and another girl turned out to be the only constant factors throughout the years. Those were good times, with a few epic parties, lots of mediocre shared meals, and also our infamous board game nights, starting with lasagna, ending with beers at 5 in the morning and someone writing the scores on the inside of the toilet door with a water resistant marker. The three of us were a fun gang to live with. At least, until I made that mistake.

"Do you still see her?" She asks.

I sigh, don't say anything. I hope the look on my face shows her that I'm not in the mood to talk about what happened after the messy break up. The stupid mistakes I piled up on top of it, the ugly things that still reverberate to the present.

But back then, I enjoyed it so much. How sexy and seductive it had been to date that girl while we both lived there, to sneak into the shower with her in the mornings, without anyone noticing. How ferociously hot it was to have some other roommate brush his teeth in the bathroom, oblivious of how, under the running shower behind the curtain, I held my hand over her mouth as I fingered her to orgasm.

"You should never have dated her, you know," she says. "Never fuck roomies. It's bound to turn out to be a disaster."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I've learned my lesson." I stare out the window. Now I'm gonna say the things I always say when she visits me. And I know exactly how she'll answer.

"We're way past being roomies, by the way..."

She chuckles, but I can tell it's not really genuine.

"Somehow it doesn't sound like you learned your lesson...," she says. At this point I should shut up, but I can't shake the memories of all these visits, where she sleeps next to me in my bed, where we get each other so wound up we masturbate together. No fucking, never any real sex, because we are fooling ourselves into believing what we do is innocent. But it it's not, not at all.

"Well, neither have you," I say, as I stare at her intently. "We might not actually... do it... but in this case that doesn't mean anything."

She doesn't say anything. I look around the noodle bar, nobody seems to notice the turn our conversation has taken.

"We can't date, I know, fine. What I don't get is: why can't we... fuck?"

Now it's her time to stare out the window.

"We're friends," she says, finally. "Never fuck your friends. I know you don't see it, but I tell you it's true. If we'd actually fuck, it would change things. More than you think. More than what we do now. This... is accidental. It's innocent."

"Bull," I say, but I know that won't change her mind. I'm also not so sure she's wrong.

"Are you still seeing him?" I ask. Last time she was here she was dating some messed up married guy, who would kill me if he knew about me. Especially if he knew she tells me exactly what they do in bed.

She shrugs. I have no idea what that means, except for that she doesn't want me to know. Yet.

"Why," she asks. "Would you like that?" Slowly, her face shows a naughty grin. Under the table, one of her feet rubs against my calf. My cock grows in my pants.

Oh fuck, I hate her so much. Tonight is going to be another horrible, impossible challenge. She is going to slowly fry my brain and bruise my balls. Please, married motherfucker, take your Glock, stick it in the back of your jeans, drive over here and shoot me now. Please. Or I don't know what I'll do to her tonight...

"Why are you eating with a plastic fork anyways?" She suddenly says, and she takes it from my hands. The rest of our time there is spent with her trying to teach me how to fold my fingers in that specific way required to eat with chopsticks, while the remainder of my noodles gets colder and colder, and I love her to bits again. This up and down, this yo-yo, it's enough to make a grown man crazy. And I don't feel like a grown man at all, right now.

When we get home, we grab some beer and watch a movie in bed. The warm summer evening keeps us company. From the street we hear the sounds of carefree people, birds that are only here for one season, the occasional car. Cuddled up like this, I feel better than I have in a very long time. I kiss the top of her head, tell her I have missed her, miss this. And I have. I wish we could stay like this forever. I wish she would just forget about the whole sex thing, stop making things so complicated. I wish we could just fall asleep together, like this, and when we wake up again, we'll have broken the spell, and we can be just friends again.

Then I get back from the kitchen, with a couple of cold beers, I sit back on the bed again and things are not the same.

"Uhm, hi there..." she says, batting her eyelashes. She's under the blankets, but she looks at me with a devious sparkle in her eyes. For a second I wonder what she's on about. Then my eyes wander down, my heart misses a beat and my dick goes from soft to hard in seconds. Slowly, rhythmically, her hand is moving under the blanket, right between her legs. She catches my gaze and grins.

"Wanna watch?" she asks in her most sultry voice.

I stare at the blanket, where her hand is caressing her pussy. No, this is not going to end well. Not today.

"I'm... I'm not... in the mood."

She laughs and looks at my crotch.

"Yes you are," she grins. "You totally want to watch me. Admit it."

I swallow; try to find my voice. My mind is trying to stay sane, but lust is rushing through my veins. Hormones are invading every inch of my body, making my heart race, my muscles tense up, my cock throb. Oh yes, I want to watch. I also want so much more. Maybe it's the heat, the oppressive summer heat, but my emotions have never been this strong. Hate, love, lust. A desire for dark, violent, filthy things. She should stop, maybe even leave, she really should, but whatever I'll say she will laugh and tease and stay anyway. I don't trust myself tonight. This is so dangerous.

"Really, no. This is a bad idea. Believe me," I try.

"Ask for it...," she whispers, lying back with her eyes half closed, enjoying what she's doing to herself. "I wanna hear you say it."

It seems like the room is filled with a sickly sweet, sticky syrup, like time has slowed down to a crawl. I can't move, I can't breathe. I can't hear myself think anymore. All there is, is my aching body, filled with desire for this girl next to me in bed. I'm about to give in, god help me.

"Show me your pussy," I finally say.

She chuckles, raises an eyebrow.

"Show me your cock first," she says. She licks her lip, looks at my crotch and back up at me again.

It stirs something inside of me. I want her to see my cock, I want to see her face when I take it out. It feels like I've got a weapon tucked in my pants, that I'm craving to show, casually, to intimidate. Slowly, I uncover it as I watch her watching me. Her eyes are glued to my dick. I can see her lust.

"Touch it," she groans.

"Nuh-uh," I say, though I'm aching. "Your turn. You promised me some pussy."

She looks at me mockingly, but I stare right back. I'm not yielding.

"Show me how wet you are." I say, as my hand caresses her knee through the blanket. I touch her ear with my lips. She closes her eyes, her breath trembles. "You want me to know exactly how wet you are, don't you?"

She folds back the blanket. A tight shirt is still covering her perky tits, but there's no underwear anymore. Her hand is covering her pussy as an obscenely modest gesture. Her legs look pale and smooth in the dim light. I want to lick them, taste them until she begs me to eat her out. I want to grab that hand, pin her to the bed and force myself between those legs. Carefully, I trace a finger across that elegant hand between her pale thighs.

"Come on, girl," I whisper. "Or I'll do it myself."

Finally, her hand moves. Two slender fingers disappear inside of her. A soft moan escapes her mouth. When she takes them out again, they're covered in her juices. She holds 'em up for me to see.

"This is how wet I am..."

Fuck, she is such a filthy little slut. It fries my brain. She looks up at me with a devious smile, puts her hand back, slides her fingers between her glistening pussy lips, buries them inside of her again.

Having her next to me like that, with her legs spread, her fingers knuckle deep in her pussy... I don't want to give her the power, but I can't think straight anymore, I can't help myself. I grab my cock and slowly start stroking it.

"Good boy," she chuckles.

Oh god, I hate her. I hate how small she makes me feel, how obedient. I'm her fucking plaything. But it's what she does to me. My fist works my swollen cock as she watches me. Her fingers slide in and out of her. Her other hand has disappeared under her shirt, massaging her tits.

"You love this, don't you?" I say. "It's why you're here, isn't it?"

She nods, moans a bit.

"D'you tell this to that married guy, hm?" I tease. "That you come all the way here to see me masturbate? He'd love to hear that, wouldn't he."

"I might tell him," she says, with a cocky smile. "Maybe he'll punish me for it."

No, don't go there. Ignore it.

"Punish you?"

"Yeah," she grins. "He ties me up now and then, but it's all a bit tame."

Fuckin' hell...

I need to shut up now, and somehow, I manage to. But that damned hand around my cock doesn't listen and involuntarily, it picks up the pace. The thought of her, tied up, vulnerable. I could do anything to her, anything I want...

"Oh!" She raises an eyebrow in amused surprise. Her eyes sparkle with something devious. "You like that!"

Yes, yes I do, and that is not a good thing. Really, it's not. I look her straight in the eye, I need her to stop.

"Don't..." I say. "Seriously. Don't."

Suddenly, swiftly, she gets up out of bed. Her naked ass looks amazing. I wonder what she's up to, until I see her reach for my bathrobe. As she takes off the fabric belt, I feel myself sliding down, fast.

She sits her sexy, bare ass down again and stretches her arms out towards me, urging me to take the belt. I've stopped touching myself. I need to focus. My head feels like it's full of cotton candy.

"Tie me up", she says.

"No." I shake my head.

"Come on", she flirts. "You know you want to."

Exactly. That is the problem.

"Stop it. Now!" I say. "You do not, not want me to tie you up." I look at her with my most urgent stare. But she doesn't seem to get it.

"I won't be able to behave," I confess. "...and I mean that in a bad way. A very bad way." Maybe honesty is all that can still save me from damnation, even if it exposes me as an asshole. She needs to know. "I might... do things we'll both regret. You don't want that."

"How do you know that?" She teases. "Maybe I secretly do."

"Really, girl, listen to me: you don't," I try again. "You don't."

But it's no use. She lays the belt down in my hands, bites her lip, begs with her lovely, lovely eyes, her wrists stretched out for me to tie. And I give in. Fuck it. I'm damned anyway. I'll go to hell for this. I'll burn an eternity for wrapping these elegant wrists in my bathroom robe's belt, tying this tight knot, and another one on top of it. Better make it worth it...

And then the power balance has shifted. The world has tilted. I feel like I'm digging my heels in not to slide off, topple over the edge. I take her tied hands and hold them down above her head. Her face contorts with a sudden feeling of powerlessness. It turns her on. It turns me on. I start stroking again, with less urgency now that I'm in control. She looks up at me with hungry eyes. I'm hanging on the edge of the cliff.

"Cum on my face..." she whispers, looking up at my cock. That catches me off guard. It's way beyond anything we ever did, never has she asked this before. "Please, I want it. Cover my face in your cum. Please..." Her eyes are pleading, her mouth is begging and I... I lose my grip. I tumble down, to hell.

"Open your mouth," I grunt.

She obeys. I force my cock in her mouth. Her shock and her surprise are muffled somewhere beneath me. I'm being rough, probably too rough, but I don't care anymore. Even though she fights a bit, she doesn't close her jaw, she doesn't bite. As I slide in and out of her face, she moans and whimpers. It's strangely arousing, it's disturbing, I'm a monster. But that soft, warm tongue feels incredible. Is she actually licking me? Is she enjoying this? Or is she trying to tell me to stop? I can't really tell, but I can't be bothered. Let her dislike it. Let her gag on my revenge, pushed into that cushion, let her saliva stain my bed.

When I take it out, she tries to catch her breath. For a second, we're both frozen.

"My god..." she just stammers.

"I warned you," I say. "And you wouldn't listen."

I let my hand wander over her exposed body. She looks beautiful, with her arms up like that. I love that I'm strong enough to keep her like this. Slowly, I caress her thighs, higher and higher. She squirms, tries to twist away.

"Please," she whimpers. "Please."

I tap on her thigh. She knows what I want, but she doesn't move.

"Come on," I whisper. "Open up. I bet now you're really wet."

She lets out a begging whimper, but it's useless. I'm in control now, and I'm going to play with her.

"Show me your pussy," I say, just like before, but it sounds so different now. "You want me to know how wet you are, don't you?"

Grudgingly, she gives in, spreads her legs. Oh, that glistening, pink pussy. My hand is drawn to it like a magnet. She's so dripping wet her legs are sticky. It makes my cock jump and my heart miss a beat.

"Oh..." I chuckle, as I slide one of my fingers inside of her. She is tight, hot and truly soaked. "You like this."

She blushes furiously and tries to hide her face behind one of her arms.

"Yes..." she whispers, barely audible.

Skilfully, I invade her with my fingers, stretch her, explore her, find the spot that does it for her. I force her to keep her legs apart. I make her moan against her will, make her blush and let her try to hide. She doesn't want me to stop, but I hope she doesn't stop pleading. I lick the crimson cheek that she cannot fully cover with her arm. So hot... She's in agony. I'm in heaven.

And I'm not even fucking her yet. The power, her helplessness, it gets me off more than I ever expected. A door has opened in my mind and it's like I have discovered sex all over again. Just like when I was young. Just as taboo, as fueled with guilt and lust and desire. Just as drenched by the scary, exhilarating feeling of being unable to ever turn back, ever get rid of that filthy, pushy, controlling devil that is inside of me.

I'm making her desperate by giving her this pleasure she doesn't want. She doesn't want to like it this rough. But she likes it, all right. I decide it's time for me now.

Utter shock freezes her face, eyes wide open, when I stop, move. Suddenly, she sees what I'm up to.

"Oh, no, be careful!" Urgency is in her voice. "Please!"

I ignore her plea, push her knees apart. I'm strong, it doesn't take me much effort. With ease, I slide my body between her legs. I tower over her.

"Shhh..." I whisper. I can see the fighting emotions on her face. She wants me, detests me. I know what she feels, because I feel the same. I hate her, but I love her, I love her so much. Softly, I kiss her lips, those sweet, sweet lips that I've longed for for so long. She tastes so familiar, so addictive, and when she finally, tentatively returns my kiss, relaxes her legs, I melt into her. This kiss, this soft embrace, it almost makes me forget she's at my mercy. But she is. Her tied wrists are in my hand, and they will be until I cum.

"I'm gonna take you," I whisper against her lips, between kisses. "I'm gonna fuck you silly. There's nothing you can do about that." I kiss her neck, her ear.

"Because I don't want to cum in your face..." I whisper. "I want to cum in your pussy."

She shudders. I feel her tense up. She realizes I mean it. And I do.

"I'm gonna make it mine," I whisper.

I push my cock between her wet legs, against her tight hole. She inhales sharply, moans involuntarily. I scrutinize her face; how hard she tries to avoid my gaze, look away, but she can't hide that it turns her on.

"Oh... Ain't you a slutty girl!" I chuckle. "Nasty little tease. You want this..." I tighten my grip on her wrists, grab her hair.

"Then take it," I grunt, as I force my cock into her tight pussy.

She squirms under me, begs me to be careful, but all she does is make me fuck her harder. I don't know what has come over me, but something inside of me takes all these things the wrong way. Her resistance encourages me, the swears and curses that come out of her mouth turn me on like nothing before. This is inexcusable, it's perverted, it's sick, and I know all this, it makes me hate my guts, but it doesn't make a difference at all. The more urgent her cries become, the harder my hips push into her. And then, with malicious delight, I realize I'm actually getting her off.