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Old 10-09-2013, 02:41 AM   #1
knightwriter
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Default Bikini Barista

When I pulled my van into the parking lot behind the old closed down Italian Restaurant there was a little shack that had a line of cars around it. I didn’t know it at the time but it was called a bikini barista. It was a coffee shop that served overpriced coffee sold by a woman who wearing as little as possible. I bet some people looked down on the girls who worked there, or on the customers who waited in long lines to get a little something extra with their mocha but I wasn’t one of them. I have my own faults to worry about.
In fact, I pulled into the line right behind a dirty brown Chevy Chevette with a crack in the back window and listened to NPR while I waited for my turn to see what the fuss was about. I promised myself I would be completely honest here so I admit I turned off the radio when I was only one car away from the window. I wanted it to be clear to the coffee shop girl I was paying full attention when my turn at the window came.

The shack was smaller than I thought. There was only enough room for the one girl in there. There were windows on both sides of the shack so she was turning around and around trying to keep both lines entertained while she made the drinks. She smiled at me, a pleasantly convincing forgery of warmth, and asked me what I wanted. I ordered a mocha with whip and tried not to drool as I checked her out.

Okay look, she was gorgeous. She was a perfect ten. She had long straight hair that was some color between red and dark brown. She had full lips and a buttery tan complexion. Her eyes were clear and blue. But by far her most amazing feature was her rack. She had these monster tits that were perfectly round. I don’t normally talk that way. I actually hate the word tits. But that was the best word to describe them.

She was wearing this one piece net outfit that left only the absolutely obscene to the imagination. I mean I was sold. I wanted her right then and there. Probably just like everyone else in line. I got my mocha and handed her twice as much in cash. She smiled and offered a sincere enough sounding thank you. I eyed the closing time on one of the signs, nine o’ clock. Then my turn was over.

Look, I told you I was going to tell you everything. I also told you I had my faults. And I’m not talking about ogling the coffee shop girl. I’m talking about what I did afterwards.

I came back to the sexpresso shop just after nine o’ clock. The windows were already closed and shuttered. The lights were turned off. I noticed there was only one other car in the lot. It was a Toyota Camry parked close to the shack. I parked my van toward the back of the parking lot where it hopefully wouldn’t stand out as much. I noticed there was a back door to the shack that had a metal cage on it.

This was the moment. Look, I admit I was scared. This wasn’t exactly my first time. I’d gotten up to this point probably a dozen times now. Not with this girl but with other girls. Sitting in my van, watching and waiting. Each time I managed to talk myself out of it. But all I had to do is remember those perfectly round tits. I knew I wouldn’t talk myself out of it this time. Look, I said I had my faults, right?

I got out of the van and opened one of the back doors. I drove a cargo van. The inside was flat and carpeted. I patted the utilitarian carpet with my hand. I couldn’t tell in the dim lighting but I knew it was a cream colored carpet. My eyes went to the roll of duct tape. I swallowed.

I walked over to the Camry and squatted down behind it. From the angle it was parked the girl would probably come out of the shack and head straight for the driver’s side door of the Camry. It was the side she was parked closest to. She wouldn’t even see me. Which I suppose was the point.

I waited there, squatting in the darkness and feeling a little silly. Some of the adrenaline wore off and I began to second guess myself. Just when I began to wonder if she was even still in there I heard the metal cage door squeak open. I wanted to peek but I made myself stay put. I heard light footsteps coming in my direction. I peered around from the back of the Camry. I could only see a black silhouette of a woman with long hair wearing a coat. I assumed it was her because, who else would it be, right?

While she fumbled with the keys in the door lock I swept up behind her and put one hand over her mouth while I grabbed her around the waist. I felt her muffled scream in my hand. She tried to pry my fingers away from her mouth. I heard the jingle of her keys on the pavement. I lifted her up and half dragged/half carried her to the back of my van. She struggled but was no match. I shoved her inside, keeping my hand over her mouth and then climbed in behind her.

I admit I was terrified. I could feel my heart beating in my chest. I mean, at any moment a cop or some nosy bastard could have pulled into that lonely parking lot. But I kept it together. Somehow I managed to rip off a piece of tape and put it over her mouth. I remember she scratched at my face. I could feel the sting of her slash across my cheek. I shoved her face first down into the carpet of the van and brought both hands behind her back. I wrapped the tape around both wrists half a dozen times before I tore off the tape. She definitely wasn’t getting out of that. I taped her ankles together and noticed she was wearing jeans. I wondered if it was the same girl but I was in a hurry.
I closed the back door to the van. I hurried over to her car and picked up her keys off the ground. I thought it was sweat at the time but there was blood oozing down my cheek from where she scratched me. I dropped her keys into my pocket and made sure there was no other obvious evidence around. Then I got into the van. I looked back at her. I saw her eyes flashing with terror in the dim luminescence. It was the same girl. She must have changed before she came out. In addition the the jeans she was wearing something bulky on top and a coat over that.

I drove a few miles down into some office buildings that were hopefully all closed up for the night. I parked my van way in the back of one of the parking lots by some trees where it would be harder to see. I looked back at her. It was time. Look, I already told you I have my faults.

I squeezed between the two front bucket seats into the cargo space of my van. The girl struggled in fear. I noticed one corner of the tape on her mouth was starting to come off and moved to put it back in place. She flinched from my movement but I hushed her and fixed the position of the tape. I pulled my knife out and showed her the blade. I could barely make out her whimpering from underneath the duct tape. I remember exactly what I said to her.
“Look, I know you’re scared. You’re scared because you don’t know what’s going to happen. So let me tell you.” I could hear her breathing heavily through flared nostrils. I reached out to comfort her. She tried to pull away but really, where could she go? I ran my fingers through her hair. She was damp with sweat. For some reason that really got me hot. I mean, more than anything else that wet feeling in her hair woke up something animal in me. I could feel my pants getting tighter.

“I saw you earlier and I just have to see your body,” I said. “I am going to use this knife to cut your clothes so I can see your breasts.” See, I hate the word tits. “As long as you play along and don’t fight with me I’ll let you go afterwards. I give you my word.” Yeah, I was lying to her. Like I said, I got problems.

“If you struggle, I’ll slit your throat and then cut your clothes off anyway. So you can either be dead or alive it’s up to you.” She seemed to panic at my mention of her death. “Do you want to be alive?” She nodded. “Do you want me to slit your throat?” She shook her head. This was working great. “You know I’m going to cut your clothes off, right?” She shook her head and closed her eyes. It looked like her lids were squeezing out tears. I grabbed her arm and repeated myself. “You know I’m going to cut your clothes off, right?” She nodded this time, her eyes still closed and crying. “Good,” I said. “If you struggle, I’ll cut your throat. If you just lay there limp, you’ll be fine. Understand.” She just wept. “Understand?” I said again, more forcefully. She nodded. “Good,” I said, “so no struggling.”

She was wearing a jean jacket over some kind of sweater or something. I don’t know if you have every actually tried to cut clothes with a knife but it’s not as easy as you’d think. I wished I had EMT shears or even scissors. I made a couple of cuts into the jacket and tried to tear it apart but it wasn’t working. She hunched over and sobbed like a baby which didn’t exactly help either. It wasn’t going to work. So I grabbed a fistful of her hair, twisted it, and pulled her head close to me. I brought the knife right to her throat and rubbed the flat part on her neck. She tried to scream through the tape.

“Look,” I said, “I’m going to cut your hands free. When I do, you take your coat off. If you don’t, I’m going to cut your throat and let you bleed out over the carpet. Got it?” She was almost hysterical. I pulled her hair harder. “Got it?” She nodded. Still holding her hair tightly I gently sawed the tape on her wrists. She pulled her hands free. I pulled her hair again. “Take your coat off, night and slow.” She obeyed. She wasn’t going to fight me, I could tell.

“I’m going to let go of you,” I said. “The van is all locked up. You can’t get out. We’re in the middle of nowhere. If you scream, I’ll kill you, understand?” She nodded. I released her hair. Her ankles were still bound but she shimmied away from me like a fish.

“Take your sweater off,” I said. She shook her head. “Do it,” I said. She began to weep again, but she pulled the sweater off. She was wearing a plain white bra underneath. No lace. Her breasts were as big as they looked before. Underneath the bra they looked like huge white eggshells suspended by elastic.

“Okay,” said. “Now take off the bra. I just want to see your breasts.” She hesitated for a moment but actually seemed to be calming down overall. She unclasped the bra in front and pulled open the cups. Her tits fell heavy and free. They sagged but held a surprising amount of shape given their size. Her nipples were a light milk chocolate brown with large areolas. I swallowed. “Now turn around, and put your hands behind your back. I’m going to re-tape them.” She shook her head and began to cry again. She covered her breasts with her hands.

“Do it,” I growled, “or you bleed.” She slowly turned around and put her hands behind her back. I put the knife in my mouth, pressing my lips hard on the blade while I used both hands to bind her wrists again with the duct tape. When I finished I whispered for her to turn around. She obeyed. I put my knife back into my booth sheath.

She watched in obvious fear as I reached out with both hands and cupped her breasts. They were warm. I squeezed them, and fondled them gently. She shuddered in fear. I touched her nipples, and rubbed the pads of my fingers on them.

“You’ve got great breasts,” I said, “I’m going to suck them.” She shook her head. I didn’t care. I leaned over and lifted one up and suckled on it, then the other. They were delicious. Oh God, I was ready for her now.

“I’m going to take your pants off,” I said. “Don’t struggle.” She shook her head no furiously and tried to cry out again. “Look,” I said, “I’m not going to rape you. I just want to see your pussy.” She still shook her head furiously. I took out my knife again and held it up to her eye. “Before I kill you,” I warned, “I’m going to cut your eyes out.” She stopped her hysterics and instead fixated on the blade. “Now you can struggle and be half blind or just sit there while I do this.” She didn’t budge.

I reached up and unsnapped her jeans. She halfheartedly tried to pull away but I brought the tip of the blade close to her face and she melted into a weeping mess. I undid her jeans and began pulling them down. I had to take the tape off her ankles. I was ready for her to start kicking at me or something but she didn’t. Her jeans were tight, and her panties slid down her legs with her jeans, which was fine with me because it was one less step. I pushed her down onto her back and towered over her. She held her knees tightly together.

“Open your legs for me,” I said. She didn’t budge. “Open your legs for me,” I said again, holding up the knife. Slowly, she parted her legs. “Wider.” She moved them a little wider. I reached down with both arms and pushed her knees wide apart. Her pubic bush was unshaven and not as neatly manicured as I’d seen on some porn sites. I looked her in the face.

-------------------
Let me know if you want more...
-Knight
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Old 10-09-2013, 07:54 AM   #2
Kolt48
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Oh yes. Very nice start. Do continue.
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Old 10-09-2013, 01:11 PM   #3
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A very nice start indeed! Please continue!
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Old 10-10-2013, 03:04 AM   #4
knightwriter
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Pale illumination crept into the back of the van. She was a sight to behold. Her hair was fanned out around her head. Her eyes were wide discs of terror that dared not look away from me. Her arms were bound behind her as she lay on her back in a painful contortion. Her heavy breasts flattened out against her chest like slightly deflated balls discarded on a playground. Her knees were shyly open for me. God I wanted her so bad.

“Look,” I said, “I want to fuck you.” She immediately began to whimper. I brought my finger to my lips and hushed her. “I’ll make you a deal. If you play along and cooperate I’ll go nice and slow and when I’m done I won’t cum in you, okay?”

She shook her head vehemently and cried. I could hear her moaning deep in her throat even through the tape over her mouth. Holding the knife between us I began to undo my belt buckle.

“Look,” I said, “if you want to make this a fight that’s fine. But then I’m going to make it hurt. You can forget me going slow. And I’m going to blow my whole fucking load inside you.” She continued to whimper and squirm. She kicked her legs like she was slowly pedaling a bicycle, like a child throwing a tantrum.

“In fact,” I said, “if you do that, then I’ll keep you around. Maybe fuck you five or six times. And I‘ll be sure to fuck you everywhere, in the ass, in the mouth, everything. So it’s up to you.” I could barely make out her pathetic mewling.

She was trying to say “please don’t rape me.”

“We are going to have sex regardless,” I stated flatly. “I can guarantee you that. Now do you want it to be gentle? Or do you really want me to show you what rape is?” She shook her head. “You want it gentle then?” She shook her head. I sighed in exasperation and pulled my belt out of the loops on my pants. In another moment I slid my jeans off. With one hand I stroked my penis out of my boxers. It bobbed in the air as it steady continued to stiffen. I moved toward her. She twisted her body away and tried to kick at me. She was going to fight. There would be no talking her out of it. Fine.

I wasn’t going to fuck around. I gripped the knife tightly in one hand and backhanded her with my free hand across the face as hard as I could. It hurt my knuckles. I suppose it was even worse for her. I saw her eyes swim out of focus. I didn’t wait for her to reorient herself and instead thrust my hips between her open thighs. With my free hand I guided my penis toward her vagina. I stabbed into her but she was dry as sandpaper. I tried to thrust into her but the friction was too much. She tried to twist her hips away from me to make it difficult. I heard her groan through the tape over her mouth. Rape was a lot harder than I thought.

I wasn’t smart enough to bring any lube; next time I promised myself. I worked up some saliva in my mouth and then spit into my hand. I rubbed it on my penis. I was rock hard. Jesus, I wanted this woman bad. I’d have fucked her in the middle of a police station at this point. I needed to be in her like a crack addicted whore ignoring the dying cries of their baby in a crib while they’re reaching for one more puff. She was trying to scoot away from me. I grabbed her hips with both hands, pressing the flat of the knife against her left hip, and pulled her hips into mine. With very careful aiming and consistent pressure I began to stab my erection into her vagina. She tried to push her body away from mine but I pulled her hips into me. I felt my penetrating into her now.

“There we go,” I soothed, “that’s it. See, you can do it.” She shook her head back and forth, her hair whipping around like it was in the wind. I arched my back and slid my penis half out of her before thrusting slowly into her again. Look, I wasn’t a virgin, okay? I had sex with five women in my life. That’s vaginal penetration. Counting blow jobs and other things it’d be higher. But this was hard. I was determined though. I thrust back into her, letting my full weight help drive me as deep into her as I could go. Then I pulled partway out again, then back into her. Slowly, I began to work into a rhythm. I was doing it. I was actually fucking her!

I began to speed up, she arched her back and tried to turn her face away from me, as if not looking at me would make it not really be happening. I felt a flash of anger. She didn’t want to cooperate, that’s fine. I reached out with my free hand and squeezed one of her breasts hard. She cried out into the tape. Yeah, fuck you bitch. And I was too, as hard as I could. I could feel the cheap carpet of the van abraiding against my palm. I imagined the same was happening to her back. I was working hard. I could feel muscles working that I never had to use when I normally fucked someone. A thin film of sweat was developing over me.

Okay so look, normally I can last. I mean average for me is probably twenty minutes or so. Well maybe not average, but the high end of average is definitely twenty minutes. Let me put it this way, I have pushed twenty minutes on more than one occasion. But that is with a consentual partner. I was doing all the work. Through the burn of exertion I could feel me rising to a climax very quickly after only a few minutes. I don’t know, maybe it was because how hot this bitch made me after thinking about doing this all day long.

“I’m going to cum inside you,” I warned through clenched teeth. She shook her head no. “The time for you to get me to cooperate has long gone,” I spat. I began thrusting a little slower but harder, like a jackhammer. I felt like a fuse about ready to blow, which I suppose I was. With one hard thrust I felt it come. I groaned, I cried out in relief and anticipation. I thrust in hard and felt myself flood into her. I thrust a few more times to make sure I milked as much of myself into her as I could. She went limp in a sobbing mess of defeat.

After my world came back into focus I realized I was flaccid and had slid out of her. I looked her in the eyes.

“If you had cooperated,” I said, “I would be letting you go right now. Yeah sure, you would have been raped. But look, you were raped anyway.” I let that sink in. She was weeping. She was sobbing. “Since you made me fight for it I’m going to take you somewhere and fuck you at least a few more times. And if you don’t cooperate, it might just end up being a few more. Understand?” She cried. “Understand?!?” I said a bit more forcefully. She nodded.

“Good.” I patted her stomach. “Now I just came inside you. Are you on birth control?” She nodded and cried some more. “Good,” I said. “Now you lay there and be a good girl and maybe you’ll get out of this sometime tonight.” I let her think about that while I moved back to the driver’s seat of the van and tried to figure out what I was going to do next.

-------
should I continue? Or write something new instead?
-Knight
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