How To Rape A Straight Guy Sullivan, Michel (best e reader for epub TXT) 📖

so many times in the past an’ nobody’d gotten loose; why’d he think he could get out of ‘em?  It was almost funny to watch.

Pretty soon, we were gettin’ off at Highland.  He could feel us slowin’ down.  Feel us jumpin’ over that bumpy little bridge of an exit an’ swingin’ down to connect with the road just above the Bowl.  He got real still.  Too still.  I got ready an’, sure enough -- when we stopped at a light, he began poundin’ his back against the side of the van, screamin’ at the top of his lungs!

I was on him, in a flash!  I yanked him back onto the van’s floor, straddled his gut an’ rammed a forearm across his neck!  He shut up, real quick.

“Try that, again,” I whispered, “you’re dead.”

“Please, don’t do this,” he muttered from behind the gag.  “Just let me go.  You don’t have to do this.”

I just smiled.  That’s when I realized I could feel him breathin’ hard between my legs.  Feel him squirmin’ ‘cause his arms were pinned under him an’ his shoulders were strainin’ at the position.  I’d torn his shirt when I yanked him down.  Not much, just enough to show he had some full pecs an’ they had flat swirls of hair over ‘em, just like his legs an’ arms.  No way was I ever gonna think of Connie when I was doin’ this guy.  But I still started breathin’ hard.  An’ my dick still got goin’ good.

I don’t know why, but I shifted down to where I was restin’ on his hips.  I guess it was to take some pressure off his shoulders.  He squirmed an’ stretched as best he could an’ rose up to rest on his elbows.  The bottom of his shirt had ridden up, some, so I could tell he had decent abs, no six-pack but solid an’ covered with some hair.  An’ sittin’ on him like that, completely in control -- I wanted to touch him.

I slipped a hand up to his pecs.  Yeah, solid muscle.  He jerked but couldn’t do much more.  I pulled the tee shirt open some more where it was torn -- not too much; Wayne wanted to “undress” him on camera -- an’ saw one of his tits.  It was brown an’ soft an’ hair swirled around it.  I played with it, a little.  Shit, even when I closed my eyes, I could still feel the hair.  Be even more obvious when I sucked on it.  He really began to squirm, then.

“What -- what’s goin’ on?  What’re you doin’?”

“What the fuck you think, faggot?” I snarled.

Then I leaned back an’ let my hands go down his legs an’ drew ‘em back up, pullin’ one shorts’ leg up with it.  He tried to buck me off, but I smacked my legs against his sides, knockin’ the wind out of him.  He stayed still, tryin’ to catch his breath.  Then I shifted around to straddle his chest an’ looked down at his crotch.  An’ I unzipped his shorts an’ saw he’s wearin’ white Haynes or Jockeys or somethin’ generic, like that.  Nice an’ clean, too.

I could just hear Shayes whisperin’, “Please, please, you don’t want to do this.  I’m not that way.  Please.  I got a wife.  I got kids.  I -- I haven’t seen you.  Any of you.  Please, just let me go.  I -- I won’t report it.  Please.”

“Don’t worry,” I whispered, caressin’ his belly.  “We’re just gonna have some fun.”

Then I pulled his briefs up away from his dick, an’ saw he was small an’ clean an’ cut.  Just like he promised.

He tried to wiggle away, so I let his briefs snap back into position an’ shifted ‘round on him, again, to where I was lyin’ on top of him.  Man, my dick was poundin’ against my jeans, beggin’ to get out.  An’ he could feel it grindin’ against his own.  I held him tighter, like I was comfortin’ him.  I could feel how quick he was breathin’.  I could feel his heart poundin’.  I could smell some kind of stuff on him, like Brut or Old Spice mixed in with his own sweat -- the kind of sweat that still smells clean, still smells alive.  An’ I owned him, right then.  He was mine, pure an’ simple.  Completely mine.

“Oh, Jesus, Christ,” he muttered, “please -- please don’t hurt me.”

“We won’t,” I said.

Then Wayne turned onto his street an’ slowed down, even more, an’ turned down an alley.  He pulled up to his back gate an’ stopped.  The shed’s door was right beside it.  Lenny was there, waitin’.

I could still hear Shayes whisperin’, “Please, really, you don’t want to do this.  I’m not like that.  It won’t be any good.  Please, just let me go.  I -- I won’t do anything to you.  Please.”

Then Wayne yanked open the side door an’ it slid to a loud stop.  Shayes gulped an’ started heavin’.  Wayne noticed.

“Sit him up,” he said.  “Head between his legs.  We don’t want him puking into the gag; he might choke.”  I did what he said, then Wayne climbed in an’ put an arm on Shayes’ back an’ whispered, “Hold on.  Get back in control.  Breathe deep.  Don’t talk.  Don’t even try.  If you do, you’ll vomit.”

Shayes tried real hard to get back in control...but he wasn’t havin’ much luck.  So Wayne pulled out a bandana an’ wrapped it around Shayes’ neck, then he undid the gag.

“Coke,” was all Wayne said.  A second later, Lenny had a can of it an’ was offerin’ it to him.  Wayne took it, pulled Shayes back by the bandana an’ forced some of it down his throat.  The guy choked an’ coughed, but he stopped heavin’.  “Better?”

After a second, Shayes nodded.  Then Wayne coiled the bandana tighter an’ said, “Don’t even try to call for help.  Understand?”  Shayes