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| Cover Image for Better Off Forgotten |
In an attempt to escape the nightmares, she spends an evening drinking and is more than a little tipsy by the time her boyfriend, Ben, gets home.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he stated quickly, taking the glass from my fingers. “You’ve had enough.”
“Well, I think you need to unwind a little yourself, Benny,” I suggested, reaching out my bare foot and rubbing it against his ankle, before sliding it up the outside of his calf all the way to the knee.
This caused him to smile, but I could see he was trying to fight his wayward lips, as they quirked. “You can’t get round me like that, you know?”
“Oh, really?” I asked softly, leaning forward and grasping his belt in my left hand.
He immediately, placed his hand over mine and began to remove it from his waistband. “You need to get some rest,” he said, seriously. “You’re going to feel this in the morning.”
“I want to feel something right now.” I told him, while my right hand moved to grope at his crotch. Unfortunately, my reactions were a little sluggish and he took a step back before my hand reached its goal. “Ben,” I whined in frustration.
“You are very drunk,” he stated, keeping a firm hold on the glass that still contained the last of the wine.
“So what if I am?” I moved around to his side of the table, but he matched each step with one of his own, keeping the small obstacle between us.
“I’m not making love to you when you’re too drunk to remember it,” he said, keeping his eyes on my face.
I quickly realized that I wasn't going to win this way, chasing him around the table was undignified and it was making me dizzy. So I stopped and stood motionless. “Oh, come on, Ben,” I began. “It’s not as though you’re taking advantage of me.”
“That’s exactly what I’d be doing,” he spoke in a tone that suggested he couldn’t understand why I didn’t see this the same way he did. “Just because we’re in a relationship, just because we’ve made love before, that doesn’t make it all right.”
It was at that point, I glanced down and noticed that his body was far from disinterested. His head may not have been willing to succumb to it yet, but there were parts of his anatomy that were definitely not taking the moral high ground. All I had to do was tip the balance of power, until his brain had no choice but to follow the demands of his body.
Lifting my hands to my blouse, I began to slowly unbutton it, while I spoke. “If you came home and I was passed out drunk, I’d agree with you,” I told him softly. “But I am still very much aware of what’s going on and what I’m doing.” By the time I’d finished speaking, the blouse was completely open. I pulled at the edges, yanking it down my arms and throwing it to the floor.
“Faith,” he said, finding it difficult to swallow.
“Besides,” I continued, ignoring his attempt to stop me. The pressure was building, I just had to ratchet it up a few more notches. Reaching around to the small of my back, I unzipped my skirt and let it fall in a puddle on the floor. “Who said anything about me wanting you to make love to me?”
He tried to take his eyes from my body, but couldn’t seem to manage it. Instead, he cleared his throat and set the glass down on the coffee table in front of him. “So, this is you saying you don’t want me to make love to you?” he asked, bemused.
Stepping out of the circle of material, I kicked it over to join my blouse. “That’s right,” I said, as I let the back of my hand trace one lacey cup of my bra. Keeping my eyes on his, I reached both arms around to the clasp and unfastened it. “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” I told him, as the straps fell forward from my shoulders and I let the material slip from my breasts. “I don’t want you to make love to me,” I murmured breathlessly, as I tossed the bra onto the growing pile of clothes.
His eyes couldn't stayed in one place very long, instead they drifted to my breasts, stomach, then made their way leisurely down my legs, before gradually working their way back up again. That perpetual motion, along with the erection that was now straining against the fabric around his groin, told me that he was far too aroused to move away from me. I slowly sauntered towards him, running my tongue along my bottom lip. When I got to the coffee table, I lifted my foot onto the glass surface, stepped onto the table and took another small step to reach the opposite edge, before placing my right and then left foot onto the carpet in front of him.
He lifted a hand to stroke my cheek and leaned down slightly to kiss me, but I shifted my head back to avoid his lips. “I don’t want you to make love to me,” I repeated, softly. Covering his hand with mine, I gently lifted it from my face and keeping his fingers firmly gripped in my own, I turned my back to him. Twisting his palm upwards, I guided it to my breast and pressed down on his fingers, encouraging him to squeeze the flesh there.
“Well, you’ve got a funny way of showing it,” he breathed against my neck.
As I kept his hand prisoner between mine and my breast, I shifted my hips to press my cotton covered bottom to his groin. His swollen manhood, which was pressed against my left buttock, twitched under the pressure and I knew that the game was over.
“Faith, if you don’t want me to make love to you,” he wheezed, his breath coming unevenly. “You have to stop.”
“Why?” I asked, lifting his hand to my lips and slipping his index and middle fingers into my mouth. This prompted a jerk of his hips, as he rubbed his erection against my bottom.
“God,” he muttered, huskily. “Faith, please.”
Running my tongue along the length of his fingers, I let them drop from my mouth and then released his hand completely. “I don’t want you to make love to me, Ben,” I whispered, as my hands swept down my waist to my hips and the top of my underwear. Pushing the material down to my thighs, I wiggled, ostensibly to ease the process, but mostly to excite him further. When I’d managed to get the cotton panties down to my knees, gravity took over and they fell to the floor. “I want you to fuck me,” I said, as I bent forward slightly, pushing my bottom even harder into his groin.
“What?” he spoke suddenly and grasped my hips to move me away from his throbbing erection.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, twisting my head to look at him over my right shoulder.
“What did you just say?” he countered, sliding his hands up to my waist and turning me to face him.
I sighed slightly, as I wondered how he could possibly be thinking of anything other than the huge swell in his trousers. “I said, I want you to fuck me,” I repeated, trying to turn my back to him again, but being held firmly in place.
“I heard what you said,” he replied, with a shake of his head. “Why did you say it?” However, he didn’t wait for an answer to the question. “We’ve never…fucked,” his hands left my body, as he formed quotation marks with his fingers when he said the final word.
“Well, I think it’s high time we did, don’t you?” I replied, smiling at him and reaching for the zip of his trousers. He was right, we hadn’t ever fucked. Sex between the two of us had never been anything but loving, considerate and respectful. I felt a moment of confusion. Why did I suddenly want something else? It wasn’t just the wine, I’d been tipsy plenty of times in my thirty years and I had never had the urge to say or do the things I was suggesting I wanted now. In fact, I had run a mile from two relationships in the past after I’d been ‘fucked’. There was no other word for it. My pleasure hadn’t mattered to either of those men. The first apparently hadn’t cared whether or not he hurt me. The second had clearly wanted to cause me pain. And here I was actually asking Ben to treat me with the same disrespect, it didn’t make any sense.
“Faith,” he responded, shaking his head.
I took two steps away from him and stood at the end of the couch. I didn’t know what had changed in me, but I knew that I wanted this. I wanted him to take me hard, and fast, and rough. The whole of my pelvic region was throbbing with the blood that raced through my entire body and streamed to the area between my thighs. Bending forward over the arm of the couch, I raised my naked bottom to him.
If this sample leaves you hungry for more, you can find the ebook version of Better Off Forgotten on Smashwords, Sony, Barnes and Noble, Apple and Diesel.
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