Bad Penny (5 page)

‘Just take your dirty chocolates and fuck off!' she screamed and, a second later, the door slammed.

He knocked again but she didn't answer, leaving him standing in the passage. I felt really sorry for him, and we got on well enough in the labs, so I opened the door. He was standing outside her room with a big box of chocolates in his hand, looking crestfallen.

‘Hi, Aran, are you OK?' I asked.

‘Yeah,' he sighed.

‘I heard,' I said. ‘Come inside and have a coffee.'

Of course, Tiffany could hear all of this, just as I could hear her. As she barely condescended to speak to me anyway, I didn't really care. She had talked to me in the first week, put me down as socially unimportant and pretty well ignored me ever since.

‘Thanks,' he answered, treating me to a big grin and coming into my room.

Just having him there was enough to excite me. He was huge, well over six foot and very powerfully built. There was something about his hands in particular, enormous yet long-fingered and sensitive-looking. His skin was wonderful, too, dark and glossy and smooth. I could have melted on the spot and wouldn't have minded acting as substitute for Tiffany in the least.

I let him have my chair, made the coffee and passed it to him, then sat at his feet, all of it calculated to make me seem helpful and willing. Of course, it was a waste of time. All he wanted to talk about was Tiffany, and how much he yearned for her and how wonderful she was. He was genuinely down, almost in tears, otherwise I think I'd have thrown him out from sheer frustration.

By one o'clock, my eyelids were beginning to drop. We had eaten most of his chocolates, and he was still going on about Tiffany. I really couldn't take it any more, but nor could I bring myself to get rid of him. Just as long as he was there, I felt that maybe something would happen, although I was far from bold enough to ask a straight question. He just kept talking about Tiffany and, by two o'clock, I'd had enough.

‘Look, Aran,' I said, instead of replying to yet another request for my advice on how he should get around Tiffany, ‘I'm dropping. I know it's Saturday tomorrow, but I still need some sleep.'

‘I understand,' he answered, ‘but . . . No, I can't ask that.'

‘What?' I demanded, perking up a little in the hope that he might want something sexual.

‘No,' he went on, ‘it wouldn't be right, but . . .'

He had trailed off, smiling and giving a little shrug which made him seem vulnerable for all his size.

‘Tell me, Aran,' I said, very softly.

‘I . . . I just wondered if you'd let me hold you,' he answered. ‘I'm sorry, but I feel really down and . . .'

‘Of course you can give me a cuddle,' I answered.

‘I mean, through the night,' he went on. ‘Just a hug. You can trust me, I promise.'

I sincerely hoped I couldn't, but managed a coy look before answering. ‘OK, I suppose so,' I said, trying to be calm but with my blood hammering through me.

I made a very big deal of washing and undressing, pretending to be coy, but making sure he got plenty of glimpses of my tits and a good view of my panties. Normally I go to bed in just knickers and a T-shirt, but now what I wore was really important. I had some bright yellow pyjamas with cartoon animals on them, a present from a well-meaning uncle. I normally didn't wear them because they were so girly, but now that was how I wanted to feel.

Putting them on also gave me the chance to turn my back and, ever so demurely, pull down my panties to make sure he had a chance to see my bare bottom. When I turned round, he was in just his boxer shorts, a sight that had me trembling inside and desperately trying not to stare. I got into bed and held the clothes down for him. He slipped in beside me and, for the first time in my life, I had a man in bed with me. He was warm, his muscles hard against my soft flesh, his male scent making me feel open and in need of him.

I wanted him to take me into his massive arms and kiss me, letting me melt into him. The shame of knowing that I was only a substitute for Tiffany was getting to me, too, making me feel small and bringing out all my fantasies of just being taken and used just because I was female and the man couldn't resist it. I really wanted to surrender my virginity, preferably with him mounted on me from the rear with my girlish pyjamas pulled down and my bottom spread for him.

He did nothing of the sort, just taking my hand and quickly falling asleep. I had never been so frustrated, and lay still for what seemed like hours, curled up and wishing that he'd just turn round and fuck me without even bothering to ask.

I must have gone to sleep eventually, because the next thing I remember is waking up with the first pale light of dawn seeping into the room. It took me a moment to remember what was going on, and then my frustration returned with a vengeance. He had turned at some point in the night, and I was in his lap with my bottom pressed against his crotch. He was still asleep, with one arm thrown over my waist and the other under my head so that he was holding me. That was bad enough, but far worse was the feel of his cock pressed against the tuck of my bottom through just two layers of material. I could feel it between my cheeks, a thick shaft that scared me yet made me want it inside me very badly indeed. I moved, trying to dislodge his penis from between my buttocks but only succeeding in rubbing it against myself.

He groaned quietly in his sleep and then, very gently, began to rub his cock against me. The action was unconscious, a simple response to having a soft, girlish bottom squeezed against his crotch. He was probably dreaming about the wretched Tiffany, but the sensation had me gritting my teeth in frustration. His cock grew as he rubbed, and the rubbing became more conscious, until I realised that he was at least half-awake. He may have thought I was fast asleep, and just been having a sneaky rub against my bottom. Then again he may have intended to wake me like that and then take advantage of me in my sleepy state.

Either way, his prick was quickly a hard shaft of solid meat, pressed in between the cheeks of my bottom and only a movement away from the entrance to my virgin pussy. I was sighing – gently, yet enough for him to hear. Then his big arms tightened around me and I knew he was going to do it. He held me helpless with his left arm, leaving me no chance of escape – not that I wanted it. With his right, he pushed down the front of his boxers, so that his bare cock was against the seat of my pyjamas. I groaned aloud as he began to rub again, all pretence now abandoned as he excited himself against my bottom. I stuck it out, eager for his cock.

He put his hand to my pyjamas, pushing them down over my bottom, baring me for entry. I thought the moment had come, and braced myself for the stab of pain Kate had told me to expect. Instead, he settled his cock back between my now naked bum-cheeks and once more began to rub.

His arm moved and his weight shifted as he reached back for something. I assumed he was after a condom, and stayed still, just pushing my bum out a little more to let him rub more easily. For a moment he was fiddling with something, presumably rolling the condom down on to his cock, one-handed. His left arm was still around me, holding me firmly in place, which felt so good. He also had one powerful leg curled over mine, effectively trapping me in his embrace. Desperately wanting him inside me, I reached back and pulled open my bottom-cheeks, giving easy access to my bare pussy. I felt really wonderful. I was holding my vagina open so that a man could enter me, finally surrendering my virginity, and to what a man!

Something touched between my thighs and I gasped, expecting to be filled on the instant. It was his hand, and then something moist and warm was being pressed between my cheeks. It was one of the chocolates he had bought for Tiffany, which he was presumably now going to lick from my pussy before having me. It was an exquisite humiliation, that a present that had been intended for another girl should end up smeared on my vagina. He had missed, though, and was squashing it not against my pussy, but a little further back, against my bumhole.

‘Not there!' I giggled as what I think must have been a bit of crystallised fruit was pushed into my anus.

He said nothing, but tightened his grip and once more began to rub his cock up and down between my buttocks. This time he had the molten chocolate to grease me with – the cream centre as well, as I think he'd chosen a rose cream. It felt even better, sliding up and down between my cheeks as I obligingly held them apart. He kept touching my anus, which I wasn't sure he should be doing if he was going to fuck me, but I've always liked my bottom-hole touched and it felt too nice to stop. Then I felt his hand go down to his cock and knew that he was going to put it in me.

‘Please, Aran, now,' I begged, expecting some pain as I pulled myself open as far as I could with his leg locking mine in place.

The head of his cock nudged against my anus, making an obscene squelching noise that made me giggle again.

‘Not there, Aran,' I urged. ‘Forward a bit.'

He took no notice, pressing harder until my bumhole began to open under the pressure.

‘Aran! Wrong hole!' I squeaked in protest.

But it was too late. He had me completely helpless, his leg and arm trapping my body. I let go of my bottom but the head was wedged half into my anus, hurting my virgin ring as he tried to bugger me.

‘Ow! Aran!' I squealed.

‘Relax, girl, it'll go in easy,' he said.

I knew it would, or at least fairly easily. I had masturbated with a hairbrush handle up my bottom before, and even managed to insert one of those small ladies' deoderant cans, when I was in a particularly dirty mood one wet afternoon. It wasn't even that I didn't want it; many of my fantasies involving being buggered. I would just have liked to lose my virginity before taking a cock up my bum.

‘Aran, please do it in my pussy,' I moaned. ‘At least first!'

‘Too late, I'd be dirty,' he said, wedging his cock another fraction of an inch into my straining anus.

‘Aran!' I whined.

‘Come on, Penny, let it slip in,' he said soothingly. ‘You'll take it, easy.'

I just groaned, resigning myself to buggery. As soon as I relaxed it slid a little further up, rewarding me with a sudden, sharp pain.

‘Ow! Aran!' I protested. ‘Slowly!'

He laughed, sensing that my plea for him to go slowly was an admission that I didn't really mind.

‘Oh, that's good,' he said, easing his erection deeper with another push. ‘Come on, Pen, stick your buns out.'

I obliged, still not entirely happy about having a penis forced into my rectum but resigned to it. It did feel gorgeous, and that was what made me stick my bottom out and lose my last chance of preserving at least my self-respect while I was buggered. It felt so rude with a cock up my bottom, and it was beginning to give me a wonderful, breathless sensation that I knew would get better once he was right in.

‘OK,' I moaned, ‘put it up then.'

I stuck my bottom into his lap and he took me by the hips. We were both grunting as he worked his cock home, each push sliding perhaps another quarter inch into my rectum. Finally, it was all the way in and, I had to admit, it was bliss. I could feel my anus straining around his erection, the flesh working in and out as he began to pump. His pubic hair was rubbing between my bum-cheeks, which were slimy with melted chocolate and rose cream. My pyjama trousers were only a little way down, and I knew the mess would get all over them, and the sheet, and everything, because I could feel it squelching in my pussy and knew that I would have to play with myself while Aran gave me anal sex. I was groaning and panting anyway, so there was no point in pretending I wasn't having fun.

‘Let me get at my pussy,' I pleaded.

‘Hot bitch,' he answered, but relaxed his leg so that I could lift my thigh and get a hand to my pussy.

I found my cut and began to rub, barely in control from the feeling of the cock in my bottom. He was pushing harder, and it had started to hurt a bit, making me grunt and squeal in the most unladylike manner imaginable. I didn't feel like a lady, though; I felt like a dirty slut for letting a man use me up the bottom. He had called me a hot bitch, which made me sound really dirty and vulgar. I really am like that underneath, but I knew that I could seem a bit prissy on the outside, and it was so nice to be doing something so dirty at last and really revelling in the experience. Despite that, I felt ashamed of myself, especially as I had surrendered with so little fuss.

He was getting faster, buggering me with little shoves of his hips that pulled my bumhole in and out and did incredible things to my insides, I matched the rhythm of my rubs to his pushes, moving my finger across my clit from side to side. I could feel the damp chocolate all over my hand and in between my pussy-lips and could feel it oozing around my bumhole as his cock moved.

‘Hold me,' I begged, keen to feel the power of his arms and once more have the sensation of being unable to get away.

His arms went round me, pushed hard against my breasts and over my tummy, locking my own arms in place. His leg tightened around mine, squeezing my hand between my thighs. I thrust my bottom out as far as it would go, pushed harder on my clit and let my mind run on what was being done to me. He hadn't given me a lot of choice, but I knew he'd have stopped if I'd really complained. In my fantasy, he'd given me none at all. He would have rubbed his prick on my bum, felt turned on, pulled down my pyjamas and buggered me without so much as a word. I'd have been helpless, grunting and squealing my pleasure out as he used me up my virgin bottom. He wouldn't have a condom either. His prick would be naked up my bum, jerking as it came, slamming home in my rectum without a thought for my pain, exploding inside me, filling me with sperm and leaving me in a pool of chocolate and spunk.