Fag rape on a date with fate

Fag rape wasn’t exactly part of the equation when you agreed to act as a blind date for my date’s friend.  Still, fag rape is becoming far more likely as the night goes on.  You expected to giggle at a few bad jokes, tolerate the painful experience of wearing 6 inch heels for the first time, and be home by 7.  Instead, you’re walking as if you were born to wear pumps, it’s 12:30 am, and your date is less of a prince charming and more of a groping grunt.

Touchy-feely turns gropey grabby

Date night continues with you squeezed into a too-short club dress and a super-tight thong that’s keeping your admittedly less-than-average-sized cock in check. You’re a bit too good at pretending to be a girl if I’m sincere. Your blind date doesn’t suspect a thing. He is completely smitten with you at first sight. His hand rides up your thigh, approaching your ‘pussy’ as he whispers nasty things in your ear on our way to dinner and the club.

Dinner, Dancing, and the Deed

You can feel his cock grinding against your ass while the two of you dance to the beat of the music.  You’ve never felt a cock rub against you before.  You’ve never felt the raw desire of another man wanting to pound every hole you’ve got, and you’ve never felt so vulnerable to the possibility of him getting his way. As more time passes, the night becomes less about your favor to me. I think without a doubt, it feels good to want something because it’s so wrong. Just admit it, you were starting to get into it.

He pulls you close to him and whispers in your ear, “what do you say we get out of here?”

Shit shit shit! You were so busy fighting the desire in your heart that you’d completely forgotten about the boner in your panties. That’s something you can’t explain away.

“S-sorry…I have work in the morning…” you stammer out.

“No problem.  We’ll make it quick right here.”

“W-what?!”

“Mmmm, just a little bit. You’ve been teasing me all night with this slutty little body. At least give me a taste.”

He doesn’t give you the chance to decline. Before you realize it, he has you pressed against the wall. As soon as he has you pinned, your eyes start looking for me in a frenzy, at any rate, I’m off doing my own thing. It seems like you’re on your own.

“P-please…I’m not on birth control.”

That would have been enough to scare you into keeping it in your pants with a girl. This guy was prepared for that.

“Not a problem. I bet you’ve got a tight little ass.”

Surprisingly your virgin boy-pussy not only quivers but throbs at the thought of this brute-forcing himself on you because the place is so crowded. You could have screamed at the top of your lungs. No one would have heard you over the music, and there was no way your skinny ass was going toe-to-toe with this huge guy. You could feel your dress lift and something hard and invasive push against your hole. You knew fighting him off would prove fruitless.

Damn.  Is it rape if a fag slut like you wants it this badly? Call my phone sex line and tell me your opinion.

 


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