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Rated: XGC · Other · Erotica · #1715781
Jen initially rejects Brian's proposal ... and they say a tiger can't change its stripes.
    The light shimmered seductively off the amber liquid in the two low rocks glasses sitting atop the coffee table as the velvety voice of Diana Krall oozed softly from speakers cleverly concealed about the comfortably appointed room.  Brain was glad he had found this place when planning this vacation; the setting could not have been more perfect. The squeal of unoiled hinges pulled him from his thoughts, drawing his attention to the bedroom door where Jennifer stood momentarily framed, as if for his viewing pleasure alone.  Lovely as always in a lacy black cocktail dress and peep-toe heels, she made her way purposefully over to where he stood, the tips of her heels clicking distinctively against the polished heart pine floors.

    “God, Jen, you look incredible,” Brian breathed just loudly enough to be heard as his girlfriend kissed him gently on the lips.

    “You clean up nice, too,” she smiled.  “Are we ready?” she asked offering her arm.

    The scene was just too perfect, like out of a movie, and for once, had turned out just as he had planned.  This whole ski vacation had been set up for the sole purpose of giving Brian the ideal setting to ask Jennifer to marry him.  Ever the perfectionist and a hopeless romantic at heart, he had planned this out long ago, and wanted to ensure that it all went off without a hitch.  He had spent most of the afternoon in town, visiting the restaurant, having his suit pressed and buying champagne for later, on the pretense that he had to sign some additional papers for the realtor while Jennifer, a reasonable accomplished skier, hit the slopes on her own.  He hoped her irritation at his absence would be short lived, especially when she saw the ring.

    He offered her his overcoat, and they walked out into the frigid winter air.  “Aren’t you cold?” she asked.

    “I’m fine,” he replied.  “This wool suit is plenty warm enough.”

    Jennifer was notably silent as they drove to the restaurant.  Brian just assumed she was lost in her own thoughts.  Jennifer was an intelligent woman and she had undoubtedly guessed that this was all prelude to a proposal.  He had been dropping hints for months now.  Nothing overly obvious, but clues she could figure out if she thought about it.  The restaurant was just as he had planned soft music, dim lights.  They didn’t have the place all to themselves, but the maitre de had fixed it so they would have one intimate corner all to themselves.

    The wine was served first, a nice red that coincidentally matched her long, burgundy tinted nails.  After a few sips, the waiter delivered a basket of bread to their table.  Lifting the white linen napkin, instead of withdrawing a crusty French roll, Brian’s hand emerged with a small white box.

    “Jennifer,” he said softly, trying to steady his voice.  “You are the best thing to ever happen to me and I can’t bear the thought of not going through the rest of my life without you in it.  So I’m asking if you will agree to be my wife.”  He opened the box and the facets of the two carat diamond caught the light, causing her to gasp slightly.  He eagerly awaited her happy answer and her reply that she would be his bride.

    She was visibly shaken, but not crying or joyful at all. “I … I can’t” she managed to utter.

    Brian was completely shocked but knew he had to say something to avoid crying himself.  “I thought we … I mean you and I … I thought we loved each other,” he protested.

    “I do Brian, I do love you but, well … I can’t really explain…”

    “Try. Try to explain,” he sniffed,  his face crumbling into despair, “because I don’t get it.  You agreed to come on this trip. I thought it was because somehow you knew instinctively what I wanted to ask.”

    “I really don’t know how to say this.  You’re … you’re just too nice,” she stuttered, her eyes cast downward and hidden beneath her furrowed brow.  She knew it sounded awful, but there it was, the honest truth. “Look, you’re a great guy and any woman would be lucky to have you,” she continued, looking back up, “ … but, you lack … passion.  You’re a good lover; you’re attentive and always make sure I’m taken care of, but sometimes … well, sometimes a girl likes it when a guy is bad. There’s something to be said for raw animal sex every now and then. I just don’t think you’re capable of being a bad boy.”

    Brian was rendered speechless.  His whole upbringing had been predicated on him becoming a “nice” boy and now he was being told this was a bad thing?  Sure, he had always known he had missed out on a lot of women when he was young because girls always wanted the dangerous boys, but he’d assumed that was just a phase that all girls went through, and that eventually they would mature and come back to the solid, respectable guys.  Now his whole perspective had changed, maybe the good guys did always finish last.

      The meals arrived, but neither party felt much like eating, so Brian simply paid the bill and they left.  The ride home was silent as well.  Jennifer tried to make things better by trying to engage Brian in conversation but only receive monosyllabic grunts in reply.  She really did love him, it was just that he didn’t excite her, and that was no way to go through the rest of her life.  If only he were a little more adventuresome.  Damn, she hated the silent treatment, but it had to be said.  Where they would go from here, she had no idea. Maybe things would be a bit clearer in the morning.

    As they made their way back to the cabin the moonlight glowed on the fresh fallen snow giving it a bluish hue.  That was appropriate, she thought.  She had to watch her step; the snow that had fallen on the sidewalk since they had left had frozen over and every step was hazardous.  Brian unlocked the door and allowed her to pass. Mercifully she hadn’t fallen.  A broken ankle at this point would only confine her to the cabin and the thought of being confined here considering what had happened tonight was almost more than she could bear.

    She hadn’t yet looked up, as if still studying her footing, when she was suddenly grabbed from behind in the darkness, viciously spun around and slammed back into the wall, the back of her head bouncing off the wall board.  Vainly looking around trying to regain focus, all she could see in the semi-darkness of the room was the outline Brian.  Where was the attacker?  She was trying to process what was happening when she caught sight of Brian’s face in the moonlight filtering in from the window.  He had a strange glint in his eye. “Wha …” before she could get the word out of her mouth, she was slapped across the face.  It was Brian!  The sting of the slap was quickly subsiding, and she realized that the blow was meant to get her attention, not to cause her real harm.  It was coming to her that maybe her talk had spurred Brian into taking action she hadn’t thought him capable of.

    “Shh!” He commanded through clenched teeth.  He clamped a hand over her mouth to silence her and with the other, encircled her waist and dragged her toward the center of the room.  Still muffling her mouth he reached down and began to bunch the skirt of her dress up, drawing the hem up toward his fingers.  The soles of her shoes slid helplessly across the highly waxed floors as she attempted to gain purchase against Brian’s leverage, failing miserably.  Strong fingers crept up her now bare thigh, sending shivers up her spine.  Finally, his hand slid from her mouth, only to be replaced by his lips.  He kissed her roughly, his tongue probing deeply into her mouth as his fingertips pressed into the fabric of her panties, causing her to briefly rise up on her toes.  His fingers removed the pressure from against her vagina and unconsciously her hips moved back, as if they sought to regain the contact.

      To her immense disappointment, rather than continue, he released his grip on her allowing her to fall to the floor unsupported.  Within seconds he dropped down on top of her, pinning her to the floor. His hands tore at the bodice of her dress, heedless of any damage he was causing.  Jennifer winced as she heard seams give way to his relentless desire.  She never suspected that her Brian had such passion pent up inside him.  She whimpered in pain as she felt the muscles in one arm began to protest.  He responded by once again smashing his mouth against hers drawing a small scream from deep within her. Again, his hands were working beneath the fabric of her dress this time pushing aside the crotch of her panties and forcing a thick finger into her wet slit.  She drew a sharp breath, wincing as the finger probed ever deeper into her pussy.

    “You’re wet at the thought of me fucking your cunt aren't you?" Brian snarled.

    Unable to speak, Jennifer shook her head and found herself pressing her mound back into his hand.

    The pressure against her body eased slightly as she felt Brian roll to one side.  Excited but wanting to show at least some resistance, she struggled beneath him.  She thought she heard a zipper being lowered, then a knee forced its way between her slightly parted thighs.  “You underestimated me,” he growled in a low voice, almost a whisper.  “You’re about to find out how big a mistake that was.”

    For Brian’s part he was surprised that such animalistic impulses even existed within his soul.  He would never actually harm Jennifer, but he felt it was essential to leave at least that nagging doubt within her mind.  If she knew without a doubt that she would be totally safe, then this whole thing would be pointless, that seed of true fear had to be there to feed the excitement.  With one hand he managed to capture both of her wrists and force her arms up above her head.  With her helpless and still squirming beneath him, he once again forced the crotch of her lacy underwear to one side.

    Jennifer felt the naked head of his cock sliding up her inner thigh, the head slightly slick with pre-cum. As if it was a missile, guided by the heat emanating from her sex, his member found its target with ease and the flared head easily parted the slick, swollen lips of her labia.  She emitted a low moan as the tip of his rod penetrated the ring of muscles at the entrance of her vagina and slid in to the hilt.  She relaxed in anticipation of a long slow fuck, but Brian was far from through with her.  As he withdrew, his cock again poised to enter her, he brutally slammed himself back into her, drawing a surprised gasp as a reward.  Encouraged, he began to fuck her fiercely, almost animalistically.  With each penetration, she gasped as pleasure and pain shook her body.  She bit down on her lip in an attempt to keep the

gasps from escaping, but that only turned them into small moans, further exciting her lover.

    She began to wonder if she had created a Frankenstein with her comment about his wimpish behavior, and doubt began to gnaw at the back of her consciousness.  She considered resistance; perhaps that would slow him down, but her body continued to betray her as her hips pushed wantonly back into each thrust.  As if sensing her distress, Brian began taunting her, pointing out how she had miscalculated.  If this was what she wanted, he hissed, now she was getting it.  She was fucking him as much as he was her.  She continued to pant, her breath blowing the loose strands of hair that had fallen across her face,

as each thrust pushed him deeper into her. 

    "Brian, please, I’m sorry. Please stop this…" Her voice filled with desperation.

    The response she got back filled her with fear. "This is what you wanted, now I am the one in control." As he continued pound into her, Jennifer realized that while she was indeed frightened at the spark she had ignited in her boyfriend,  part of her seemed almost content with letting him have his way with her. Almost without warning, she felt herself contract around his penis as her body fell prey to Brian’s insistent fucking. She opened her mouth but only unintelligible syllables spilled out, gradually giving way to a low moan. She could not deny that she was enjoying the way he was taking charge of her – using her.  Again she climaxed, hot fluid spilling out around his hard penis and dripping onto the rug.  Her hands flew out of his grasp and clutched at the flesh of his back, drawing deep scratches in the tanned flesh as every cell in her body seemingly exploded simultaneously.  A throaty growl became a desperate scream that reverberated off the polished timber as she continued to climax.  Finally she felt the warmth of a man’s cum as Brian filled her clutching sheath with his milky seed.  Her vision went gray and she almost blacked out at the sensory overload.

    When her senses returned, she felt Brian rolling off of her.  She realized that she was still partially clothed in the fragments of her dress.  What fabric was left was coated in a mixture of juices, his and hers, and sweat.  Brian gave her ass thighs a playful swat and headed off to the bathroom.  She wasn’t sure what to make of what had just happened.  Was the whole thing just a lark, or had she totally transformed him into something she was not sure she liked.  She had had enough of the bad boys in school and she wasn’t sure she wanted to return to that, but Brian had proved he was capable of being bad too – when he wanted to.

    “Brian?” she asked tentatively through the closed bathroom door.

    “Hm?” he answered non-commitally.  She heard a stream of water as he relieved himself.

    “What just happened?” she asked, not knowing if she wanted to know the answer or if it was even the right question.

    The door opened and he strode out as if proud of himself. “You know,” he began, matter-of-factly, “all my life, I’ve been afraid of women. Even with you, afraid to touch you, afraid to be forceful in letting you know what I want, afraid to do anything that might offend you.  I occurred to me after you turned me down – and explained the reason why – that I’ve been so afraid of losing what I had worked so hard to gain that I was actually pushing you – and all the other women who had ever broken up with me – away.  So I figured that from now on, if a woman is going to reject me, it should be for what I do, not for what I don’t do.  So there it is. I’m not doing it anymore.  Let this be the first step.  You can walk away if you want, but at least I have the satisfaction of knowing that I gave you something you were begging for and you enjoyed it.  And if you do walk, I can have a clear conscience that you were not the one for me, because only a hypocritical bitch would be so cold as to call me out for being a wimp and then leave me for standing up for myself for a change.  I love you Jennifer, and I’ll be eternally grateful for what you have awakened within me, whatever you decide.”

    Again, Jennifer dipped her head slightly, looking at him from beneath her thick lashes, her face partly hidden in shadows.  “Well, if the invitation is still open,” she replied seductively, “I’m willing to reconsider my previous answer – you do still have the ring, right?”

    “Are you sure?” he asked.  “I mean this is permanent.  I’m not the same guy you’ve been dating for two years. Not anymore.”

    Her only reply was the sound of a zipper being lowered and the soft rustle of what was left of her cocktail dress as it crumpled to the floor.

© Copyright 2010 Bob Pickering (rbilleaud at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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