Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: You Want Me To WHAT?
Part: 3 of 8
Universe: You Want Me To WHAT?
Summary: Desperation will make you do crazy things.  I was tired of doing
without, and I figured women owed me, so I decided to rape one.  I planned it
all very carefully, and it went off like clockwork -- but then the weird shit
started to happen...

Keywords: MF oral noncon cons rom

You Want Me To WHAT?

Chapter 3

	"Look," I pointed out, "That's cute and all, but I'm really going to
need convincing before I do something stupid like let you actually SEE me!
Besides, I'm probably older than you and..."

	"I'm twenty-six.  Are you under thirty?  I'll go thirty-two..." she
declared.

	I rubbed my face.  "Actually, we're pretty close -- but I can't tell
you HOW close because that's identifying data!"  What kind of an idiot would
I be if I fell for this?  I can see me sitting in jail telling my cell mate,
'Yeah, she said she wanted to date, so I just let her go and see everything
and when I showed up the next time, every cop in the world descended on
me...'

	"Well, okay, so we have a problem.  Something will come up...  Hey,
how long has it been, do you figure?"

	"Ten, fifteen minutes, maybe."  I glanced at my watch.  "Don't you
think this idea is a little fucked up?"

	"Well, I understand that you have some security issues to deal with,
but I spent a week thinking about it and another week living with the
decision.  Why do you think I was looking for you?"

	"Well, I didn't know, or I wouldn't be here," I admitted, "but I was
looking for an explanation that made sense."

	"You don't attract girls -- is it so weird that I don't attract guys?
Come on -- you've SEEN me..."

	"Yeah -- and it makes my point, I think.  You can collect a guy --
it's a seller's market and you have the goods!" I insisted.

	Crystal sighed.  "A DECENT guy?"

	"I'm standing behind you with one hand in your blouse and another
clutching a knife.  You have a bag over your head.  Where in there is the
evidence that I'm a decent guy?"

	"You put the knife down on the end table a couple of minutes ago."

	"You little shit!" I erupted, lunging for the knife.

	"I can't see, so I hear real good..."

	"Thanks for letting me in on that!"  I stood there with the knife in
my hand and finally stuck it back in my belt sheath -- very quietly.

	She sighed.  "If you think that being a slut and spreading your legs
for every guy you think is cute and hoping that sooner or later one of them
will be the White Knight is a tactic, I'm here to tell you it's not.  It just
gets you a reputation and makes it even harder to meet a nice guy.  I tried
it, and I have friends who keep going back to it -- and we're all VERY
single..."

	"I'm not standing here because you have a hot pussy -- I'm standing
here because your head is in weird places and you make me nervous," I
declared.

	"I think you've made my point," Crystal retorted.  "Besides, where is
YOUR head, Mister Rapist?"

	"Yeah, okay.  It seemed like a good idea at the time.  Hell, it
seemed like a good idea AFTERWARD!"  This position bending over the couch
wasn't cutting it.  "I'm gonna sit down.  Why don't you put your head in my
lap and behave yourself?"

	"I'm gonna take off my blouse, then, okay?  Why don't you fish out
the money for the prostitution scam."  She started unbuttoning her blouse.  I
rubbed my face and shook my head -- and it didn't help.  She was very
convincing...  I pulled five twenties out of my wallet and put them on the
end table.  Why?  Because her idea was better than anything I had thought
of...  THAT had me on edge; when your victim is doing your thinking for you,
it's you that ends up in the trap...  I sat and she put her head in my lap
and I played with her hair for a minute, then poked her between the tits.
"What was that?" she asked.

	"I was practicing," I retorted.

	"That wasn't a knife."

	"Lucky you."

	"You're hard."  She rubbed my fly with her cheek.

	"Yeah."  I couldn't exactly lie about it.

	"Good.  I'm ready when you are."

	"For what?"

	"Sex."

	"Don't you think we have some basic issues to get through first?" I
asked.

	"I really don't know of any better way, do you?"

	"What do you think is on the agenda, anyway?"  For me, escape was an
option; this chick was nuts!

	"I think you should stay the night."

	"You want me to WHAT?"  Flabbergasted didn't even START to explain
things!

	She covered the hand I was using to maul her right breast with hers,
"You wanted to do this all afternoon the other day..."

	"I remember that," I admitted, "but..."

	"But what?"

	"I really can't see this ending well.  Sooner or later I will slip up
and you'll discover something you shouldn't.  And then, worst case, I'll have
to kill you!" I insisted.

	"Yeah, I can see that -- me running to the police and saying, 'Help!
Help!  He rapes me!' and them going, 'More than once?' and me saying, 'Yeah,
a couple of times a week...'  It kind of goes south from there..." she noted
dryly.

	"Meanwhile, you're going to spend a significant amount of time with a
bag over your head," I argued.

	"Yeah, well, you wouldn't have a ski mask, would you?"

	"I'll think about picking one up," I replied sarcastically.

	"Good."  Her hand went to my zipper.  "Why don't you abuse me by
making me suck you?"

	"Hey!" I demanded, "Who's running this show?"

	"If I told you, you'd get all pissy about it.  We've HAD this talk!
I'll be good!  I always have, haven't I?  You're here.  I WANT you here.
What's a girl got to do?"

	"I really don't understand what you see in me..."  Paralyzed, I let
her undo my fly and reach in and fight my cock clear of my underwear and roll
her lips over it....

	"Mmmmmm...."

	This was just WRONG!  My little head was in charge, which meant that
I was looking at jail time, at least!  "It hasn't been forty-five minutes!" I
croaked.

	"If I was a hooker, I'd be wanting to get down to business.  Time is
money!"

	"The hooker idea has... flaws..."  Remembering what they were was
getting to be impossible...

	"It's last-ditch, remember?  The cops have to show in the first
place.  And they won't."  She licked and sucked and made the most amazing wet
noises -- but the touch component had more to it...  "I've only tasted a
couple of dozen cocks, but this one...  Clean and tangy and firm and no
foreskin thingie -- and BIG!  Mmmmm..."

	If she was going to lull me into total idiocy, she was off to a great
start!  I did it; I slumped back and relaxed and played with her nipple and
grunted and groaned and played with her hair -- yeah, the knife was put away.
Somewhere, dimly, I had the idea that I could fish it out and do her if I had
to -- but I didn't have to...  I didn't realize how totally brainless I was
until I was about a half-second from busting -- in her mouth!  The way we
were organized, I couldn't throw her off so it happened the only way it
could; I blew in her mouth!  "AAAAAAAAH!!!   Goddammit!"  she was still busy
licking and swallowing and I couldn't seem to figure out how to get her off
me, since pushing on her head just stuck my cock in deeper...  "Shit!  See?
We're screwed already!  Now you have a DNA sample!"

	She waved a hand and backed off, hurriedly, "It's okay!  I got it all
-- it'll be nice and digested!  Nobody is gonna get a good sample -- unless
you kill me before I can finish!"

	If I'd been in a mood not to accept excuses, she'd have been dead
already -- but I hadn't even reached for the knife.  I was fucked; this thing
was out of hand, largely because she was driving -- but it seemed like she
could see the road better than I did!  Literally shaking, I said, "I'm going
to accept that.  Please don't sneak up on me with changes that could get you
killed; I really don't want to have to do it!"

	"Would you have accepted that explanation?"

	"Yeah, probably.  But I COULD have made a split-second decision that
would have made us both VERY unhappy!"

	"I'll remember!"  She paused a moment, then added, in a different
tone, "I love your cum."

	"You are absolutely insane!" I declared.

	"Yeah...  What time is it?  Have forty-five minutes gone by yet?"

	"We're getting close, probably.  Why?"

	"I want to go in the bedroom and get naked and touch every square
inch of you..."

	"What if you find something objectionable?"

	"Do you have a tail?  That might be interesting.  I'm still not clear
why girls don't want you.  I want you..."

	"It must be my looks," I opined.  "I don't think I'm particularly
ugly, but I'm not particularly handsome, either.  Chicks seem to be very
visually oriented."

	"You should try guys some time.  A girl my size doesn't get a second
look -- not even a first, usually."

	"That reminds me," I changed the subject, "No wrestling.  If you were
to go for the pin you might win -- and I might have to do something nasty."

	"Does that bother you?" she asked.

	"What?"

	"That I'm a big girl.  Thick, fat, husky."

	"Considering the total package?  No."

	"Total package?  What does THAT mean?"

	"I've seen you naked -- and you're hot."

	"Rapist," she snorted.  "Sure.  Tell me another one."

	"You STILL have a bag over your head," I pointed out.  "I'm STILL
threatening you with various weapons."

	"Not actively," she argued.  "Come on, I want to make love."

	"You don't 'make love' with a rapist!"

	"Then you're not one, I guess.  See?"

	"You're a nutcase!"

	"Pleeeeze!  Take me into my bedroom and make me get naked, then you
can undress and put your various implements of death on the nightstand and
make love to me.  If I screw up, at least I'll die happy."

	Fuck it.  "Since you suggested the nightstand. I'll probably have to
put them somewhere else."

	"Okay."


	It was absolutely fucking great!  I hosed her once on her belly and
once on her back and had to spend ten minutes cleaning her up both times --
and in between we cuddled and sucked face (I opened her mouth hole a bit) and
I sucked her neck and immersed myself in her -- and nearly fell asleep once!
It was a dream come true -- and an incident of utter insanity.  She fucked
like nobody's business -- the best ever, in my limited experience.  I learned
that in the Ladies Room she'd been working hard not to make any noise,
because she tended to be a bit louder and happier when theoretically no one
could discover us.  I came away purged and satiated, for the first time in my
life; she was perfect -- and perfectly scary!

	Guys get lonely -- and not just for sex.  Guys go to strip bars to
find a woman who understands that -- whether she's using it to make a living
or not.  When you're not getting sex -- or, just as important, not getting
any attention from the spouse or whatever -- you go to a strip bar and you
are reminded that there ARE women out there who don't care that you see them
naked -- and who appear to get pleasure from it.  And then they sit with you
and for the cost of a drink, they either chatter about their weird little
lives -- or the wise ones draw YOU out and sit there playing with your hand
or letting you rub their smooth skin while you blurt out how lonely and
misunderstood you are...  From there of course, we move on to lap- or table-
dances -- a PERSONAL display which includes some touching.  Usually that's a
controlled thing -- she can touch YOU, but not vice-versa -- but sometimes it
isn't, and that's Heavenly, just rubbing her back while she writhes against
you.  Some guys get off that way, I guess, from a lap rub; I can't, but just
touching a woman's skin in 'G' rated areas can be so satisfying...
Theoretically, there are places where you can get more than that for
ridiculous sums of money, but in my experience, it's just more of the same,
generally, just probably longer-lasting.  Some guys might get more by being
insistent or whatever, but the average sucker just gets a naked woman on his
lap for a half-hour or so -- without sex, and probably without ever touching
genitalia -- tits, maybe.  Strippers appear to get off on it because guys are
usually reverent, not grasping.  I won't tell you that there is no
prostitution out of strip clubs, but I've never gotten that lucky -- and any
time I ever heard of it, it wasn't blessed by the management; the stripper
just opened a side business.  If you think about it, the narrow-minded EXPECT
it to happen and LOOK for it -- so it's unhealthy and dangerous for clubs to
let it happen.  Guys know this; I'm pitching this to the women who really
want to understand the draw of those 'dens of iniquity'.  They are SO much
more about loneliness than sex...

	Enough about that -- I was just trying to give you an idea just how
it was.  There were negatives -- things like being unable to see the
expressions on her face and the irritations involved in fooling with the bag
while we kissed and having to lead her to her bathroom -- eh, that was okay,
maybe -- but in general, it was a dream come true.

	When it was over, I got dressed and sat on the bed, able to think now
that the little head was no longer siphoning huge amounts of blood from the
big one, while Crystal, to all appearances, slept.  DNA was an issue, but I
was safer NOT killing her because they would look harder if she was dead;
rape cases didn't get that kind of focus, I assumed.  I wasn't in anybody's
database, anyway; I was protecting myself against the future.  There had been
cases where umpteen years later they caught some guy for something years
later based upon something he did to get DNA typed.  Undoubtedly, I'd left
hair on the couch or something; I was just going to have to trust her.
(Wasn't THAT stupid?)  On the other hand...

	"Wake up, Crystal -- I want the sheets."

	"Um, what?  Oh, okay -- did I drip?"

	"One of us did.  You wouldn't be a problem, but I might."  She got
up, moving slowly, and I stripped the bed.  Clearly, she HAD been sleeping --
and if I'd decided it was the thing to do, she'd have never woken up...  I
shuddered; I'm just not that cold-hearted.  It seemed to me that no matter
what I did, I was going to jail for this...  The sheets went into two of my
bogus grocery bags and it was time to leave.  "Hang out in here for a bit."

	"Okay.  Go out the slider and over the rail.  I know girls in this
complex whose boyfriends do that at all hours of the day and night and no one
has ever said a word to them.  In fact, I'll leave the slider unlocked for
next time...  and the bag on the nightstand."

	I let THAT pass.  "Don't go back to the restaurant," I instructed
her, "or, at least, don't go there expecting to see me.  Eat lunch there all
you want, but I won't be in the Ladies Room."

	"That's all right now that you're coming here..."

	"Crystal, do you think I'm totally insane?"  I got out of there.