Violent Streak

She sees' me coming this time, and has the sense to run. I quickly outrun her, pulling her down to the ground.
She pleads, says my name and tries break free. I am stronger than
she is, I capture her hands at the wrist, pulling them above her head. With my other hand I rip her blouse,(the pink one) the buttons pop off and disappear into the leaves. She is pinned underneath me, writhing. She knows she is trapped, why does she always struggle?

I nudge the cup of her bra down with my lips and bite one nipple with my teeth. She screams. I suppose I am causing her pain, I don't really think about it. With one long stroke my tongue tastes her skin from her belly to her neck, she squirms. I unbuckle my belt, unzipping my fly. She is quiet, she had better be. I know she remembers what happened the last time I had to shut her up. My hand pushes aside her underwear, how many times have I told her not to wear those damn things? It just slows things down.
I lean over her, looking into her eyes - I want her to know who is going to make her come, and enter her with one hard thrust.

She screams.

I gasp, so tight. I pound into her again, and again. I come hard, feeling my
seed invading her body. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if she ever got
pregnant, but that's not really my problem is it? I roll off of her, twigs poking at my bare skin. I stand, pulling back on my jeans. She just lays there, sometimes I leave her like that. Other times I wait for her to get up and walk her home. I am a gentleman, after all. I wait for her this time, I kiss her cheek and pluck a leaf out of her dark hair. I feel like a
schoolboy. I giggle, I am a schoolboy.

I'm awake, my mouth is open, I'm screaming but no sound is coming out. My body is slicked with sweat and I see that I have come, the sticky white stuff coats my belly and sheets. Getting out of bed, I start to panic. Pulling the sheets off my bed I wad them up into a pile, my boxer shorts go into the pile as well. I look at the pile of white, the evidence of my sin still wet. My breathing catches when I think of what could happen if they knew. If they knew what their son dreamed of when he slept. My stomach churned, bile rose in my throat. I threw up on the dirty sheets. I washed my mouth out with water, but the taste still lingered. I fell onto the mattress, pulled my knees up to my chin...And cried like a child.

The next morning, I told her I had a nightmare and it made me sick. She believed me. I shovel cereal into my mouth and wonder what Lana will wear to school today.

I hope she wears the pink blouse.

I love that one.

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