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Fantasy Island with optional extra (with Foxy Lady)

GenderBender

GenderBender

Star
Joined
May 29, 2017
I spotted her as she was coming out of the hotel and heading for the beach. Typical tourist on her first day. Red flip-flops, khahi shorts and white t-shirt, with a big grey bag over her shoulder. I knew what would be in it: sun cream, sun glasses, her phone, a book, and a sun hat.

Pretending to be taking a call, I watched her as she came towards me, with her tiny tits bouncing under the white fabric, her nipples protruding, and then as she went past, her ass moving like the proverbial sumo wrestlers in a sack.

Beach etiquette said she had to wear a thong or a string on the beach, but nothing else. My guess was that she was wearing a thong, but time would tell. I’d check her out later.
 
It was mum who told me about this place. she’d gone off on holiday, but I hadn’t paid much attention to where she was going until she came back. As soon as she opened the door, I knew something had happened, something really good.

‘Mom, what have you done? You’re glowing like you’ve just come back from honeymoon.’

So she told me about Fantasy Island.

‘Sun, sea, beach and all inclusive. All inclusive except for the optional extras,’ she smiled.

‘I guess I don’t need to ask about your optional extra,’ I grinned. ‘Who was he?’

‘Not he,’ she said, ‘them. I booked myself into an orgy.’

‘Hmm, I don’t like that idea,’ I told her. ‘I’ll give this Island of yours a miss.’

‘That’s not the only extra,’ she pulled out her iPad. ‘Take a look and check them out.’

She was watching me intently, until she says me stop scanning the pages.

‘Which one do you fancy,’ she asked as she looked over my shoulder.

I pointed.

‘So,’ she nudged me, ‘that’s the way you’re inclined, is it?’

I nodded and booked myself a trip.
 
It look me a while to find her, the beach was really packed that day, but I tracked her down in the end. Lying on her chest, like so many do on their first day, until they get used to exposing themselves.

That meant I had a restricted view, but it looked to me like I was right, a thong, and in deep red, I’m sure about that. The colour she chooses tells you a lot about the woman, at least that’s my experience. And deep red indicates depth of hidden passion. She may not be a looker, but that thong tells me he’ll be hot and wet when the time comes. But that won’t be yet. Not just yet. I like them to get a nice tan first.

I got a good look at her ass, though, and it’s huge. Not to everyone’s taste but just the way I like them. And she’s not embarrassed about it. She wouldn’t be here, exposing it to the world if she were.

She’ll turn over soon, so she doesn’t get too burnt up on her first day. I’ll be back then to get a look at those tits.
 
It’s strange, it’s like someone is watching me. but it can’t be. Who would want to look at me? I’m small where I should be big and big where I should be small. There are literally hundreds of more attractive women to look at. Take the women lying next to me. she must be at least 60, but she looks great. Her ass is small and firm, her tits are soft and barely sag at all. She looks as good as my mum, whose a good 10 years younger.

It’s probably just my imagination. I’m not used to exposing myself like this. Especially now I’ve turned over onto my back, exposing my tits. I feel very self-conscious, but there’s no need because we are all naked except for strings and thongs. Even the guys are in miniscule trunks that barely cover their tackle.

I can’t shake that feeling, though. It’s like someone here, close to me, is watching me.
 
The guys at the bar are all talking about her, saying how gross she is with that huge ass, quaking at the thought of being trapped between those trunks of her thighs. But I’ve noticed that most of them make sure they give her a good look when they’re passing, and some make a detour to be sure they pass close by. My guess was that they admired her secretly, probably because she reminded them of their mothers, a real woman who didn’t give a shit about what other people thought of her.

Then the mood changed. Word came that she had turned over. All the talk was of her nipples. I hurried over, as discreetly as I could and wandered casually passed. Her tits were nothing, more like big pimples really. Hell, they’re no bigger than my pecs. But those nipples, hell, man, they’re like skyscrapers. Every guy I heard wanted to get his lips round those, sucking, nibbling, biting, feeling them grow in their mouths. Shit, a couple of guys admitted starting to stiffen up when they spotted them for the first time.

I’m going to enjoy playing with those. It’s just a matter of time and picking the right moment.
 
Interesting development this morning. I’m not sure what to make of it. It could be part of my optional extra, but maybe not. Time will tell.

It began when I was heading across to the beach. I was leaving the hotel and this guy walked out beside me. He made it look like he was just leaving, but I saw him hanging around after breakfast. He was waiting for me, I’m sure of it.

He smiled and said good morning, then he said that he had seen me on the beach yesterday. I had to say something, so I said yes, I’d been there and, for something to say, I added that it must have been obvious it was my first day. He grinned.

‘You’ll soon build up a tan. I’ve been here a week and look at me.’

I did. He was nice to look at in his shorts and t-shirt, with hairy arms and long, lean legs. He didn’t seem in a hurry to leave and I was happy to prolong our meeting.

‘How long are you staying?’ I asked.

‘Another two weeks. What about you?’

‘I’m booked for two weeks.’

‘Maybe we’ll see each other later.’

I just smiled. I was sure we would. This wasn’t just a chance meeting.

‘By the way,’ he turned as he was walking away, ‘I’m Mike.’

‘Helen,’ I told him and walked over to the beach.

Later that morning, I was lying on my back, feeling more confident than yesterday, when I spotted him approaching. He was now wearing maroon swimming trunks.

‘Hello again,’ he said as he stood beside me.

He couldn’t see my eyes behind my dark glasses, so I gave him a full check out. Hairy chest – nice, I love lots of hair to run my fingers through. Not much sign of his cock, just a tiny point above his balls, but those balls, wow, they’re huge. I wanted to reach out and hold them, but it was too soon for that. We had two weeks after all.

‘Hello again,’ I said, taking off my glasses.

‘Your tan is coming along nicely,’ he remarked.

Well, no, actually it was far too early to notice, but I got his message – he’d checked out my body as I had his.

‘Getting better every day,’ I grinned.

And with a quick ‘See you later’ he was off again.

I liked him. I liked his body and I liked his style – he wasn’t pushy, taking his time, never staying around too long, just enough to peek my interest.

But why was he interested in me?
 
I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again, timing is important. It’s essential to get it right. Essential for her, because this is her holiday, so I don’t want to spring on her too soon. It’s essential for me too, especially in her case. It’s not the amount of flesh that turns me off, don’t get me wrong, that’s not a problem, it’s the colour. All that pale flesh does nothing for me. Later, though, when she’s built up a nice tan, that’ll be better. I notice she’s pulling down her thong – it’s blue today – to let the sun get into the crack of her ass. That’s nice. Very considerate of her.

I’ve been studying her as best I can without getting too close. I wonder if she’s wearing a thong to cover her pubes. I don’t mind a girl with pubes, just so long as they’re kept neat and tidy. One thing her thong can’t disguise, though, is her camel toe. She was lying there with her thighs spread, displaying a lush thick pair of lips. I almost went hard thinking about my cock brushing between them. Which is interesting, because it’s the first time I’ve got aroused since last week, but that’s another story. What matters is this woman and I knew as I stiffened that I’d be ready for her when the time is right.

But that was for later. At that moment, I needed to take my mind off that thought so that I didn’t draw attention to myself. That’s the last thing I want to do.
 
I was sitting on the terrace finishing my drink when Mike strolled over carrying a drink. I smiled and pointed to the chair opposite me. He sat down and sipped his drink. I was sure as I could be that this was part of my optional extra. I could have specified precisely what I wanted, but I preferred not to know exactly what would happen, so that it could come as a surprise.

Which meant that I could afford to tease him a bit.

‘Mike,’ I put down my glass and looked serious, ‘I’ve been wondering why, with all these gorgeous women around, why have you homed in on me?’

He put down his glass and looked equally serious.

‘OK, Helen, if you really want to know, I’ll be honest. It’s your ass. I like a good ass and yours is magnificent.’

I let him wait for a while before giving him a broad smile. He looked relieved not to have offended me.

‘So, Helen, now it’s your turn, what attracted you to me, because I can see you are attracted,’ he added with a grin.

I didn’t deny it.

‘To be as honest as you were, it’s your balls. They’re huge. I just want to hold them, see how heavy they are, roll them in my hand, stroke them …’ I let my answer trail off into his imagination.

He smiled in his turn and finished his drink.

‘Do you fancy a stroll on the beach before turning in?’

Well, why not, what harm could there be in that? I emptied my glass and stood up.

We walked side by side until we were out of sight of the terrace, then he turned and kissed me. I didn’t resist. His hands were over my ass checking out its contours, gently stroking, while I took the chance to put my hand up his shirt and let my fingers stroll through that matt of chest hair. It wasn’t long before his hands were pulling up my skirt. He didn’t get into my big pants, though. Like I’ve said, I like his style, nothing pushy. I’ve had closer encounters with a complete stranger is a club.

And, to save you wondering, I did have a quick fondle of his jewels. Very pleasant, but I did notice that his cock wasn’t stiff. It was just as small as it had been on the beach earlier in the day.

And that made me think.
 
I settled down close to her on the beach, watching that mountain of an ass and trying to judge how her tan is progressing. A couple more days and she’ll be done to a turn. Just right. She sat up as I watching and began applying sun cream to her chest. She spent a lot of time on her tits, surprising considering how little there is of them. Judging by the look on her face, she was getting turned on playing with them. Stroking them, rolling them in her hands, pinching her nipples with her fingers. I can just imagine her lying in bed or in the bath doing that, before one hand drifts lazily down to her crotch.

Then she suddenly stopped, looked around as if checking whether anyone had noticed, and rubbed the cream onto her stomach and legs, before lying down on her back.

Time to check out her room. The cleaners will have finished and there’s no chance that she’ll go back there for a while.

You might think that all hotel rooms are the same, but they’re not, certainly not once a guest has been in them for a few days. They soon make the room their own. Take Helen – that’s her name by the way – mine doesn’t matter. she’s moved a table and repositioned the chairs. That’s important to know when you’re working the dark, so I close my eyes and walk around until I feel comfortable knowing where everything is. Then I start of her possessions. They can tell me a lot about the person I’m interested in. Her clothes are mostly beach wear or light weight for the evenings. She’s got a couple of bras, but they’re pushed to the back. She’s probably not going to bother with them while she’s here; her tits are big enough to be worth the bother anyway. Her panties are rather conservative and plain. She’s brought half a dozen thongs, all in different styles and colours. I found the dirty laundry on the bottom shelf. There was a hair trapped in a big pair of white panties, so I was right about her having pubes. Oh and there are no sanitary products, so she’s not going to be on a period, which is good to know, because I don’t like a mess.

One last thing before I go. I need to get used to her smell, so I sniff her perfume and at her dirty pants and thongs. The scent is rather rich and sickly, and she’s got a pungent odour.

Right, I’m done here.

No, one more thing to check. No, I was right about her using her fingers, she’s not brought a vibrator.
 
I had just sat up and was about to rub some cream onto my back when Mike appeared at my shoulder. He often to help. Why would I refuse?

He sat beside me for a while, slowly spreading the cream over my shoulders and down by spine, spreading out to each side. Then he pushed me gently onto my front and turned his attention to my legs, separating them sufficiently to get his hands between them. Long, slow strokes covered first my left leg, then my right, smoothing the cream and soothing my warm flesh with his cool hands.

I could sense he was leaving my ass until last. He certainly hadn’t overlooked it. With the rest of my back covered, he eased my thong down to the top of my thighs leaving the whole of my ass exposed and laid down a layer of cream with in a methodical coverage that felt more like a massage. His strong hands worked deep into my muscles and gradually crept closer and closer to my crack.

‘Best make sure I don’t miss anywhere,’ he announced.

I knew where this was going and that’s just where his thumbs now ventured. Deeper and deeper with each stroke, until the tips of his thumbs were gliding over my hole. I did wonder if he was going to finger fuck my ass, right there on the beach, but he stopped and gently returned my thong to its proper place.

‘Thank you,’ I sighed, although I wasn’t sure whether I was thanking him for what he had done or for what he had refrained from doing.

He knelt on the sand beside me.

‘It was fun last night, I really enjoyed it,’ he whispered.

Was he looking for reassurance that he hadn’t gone too far or for encouragement to go further tonight?

‘Yes,’ I smiled, ‘yes it was fun, I enjoyed it too.’

That left him with the balls in his court so to speak.

‘Maybe we’ll bump into each other again tonight,’ he hinted rather ambiguously.

‘Maybe,’ I replied with a smile that he would no doubt take as a hope that we would.

Then he was off.

He was wearing khaki trunks today. I preferred the maroon.
 
Today’s the day. She’s ready. I’m ready.

As soon as the cleaners were done, I let myself into her room. Security here is so lax, you wouldn’t believe it. Getting a pass key is easy. Just a quick run through my plan, making sure I’ve got timings right for when I make my move. That’s the crucial bit. If it goes wrong, it’s very difficult to get back on track.

The problem is that the timing is a bit of guess work. She’s following a routine. She comes off the beach for lunch by the pool and then goes back to her room for a lie down or whatever else she fancies doing, until about 4 o’clock. The first thing she’s going to do is go to the bathroom; everyone does. So I’ve got as long as it takes her to have a pee and maybe a crap too. There’s a suitcase on the floor that I’ll need to move out of the way so I don’t trip over it. Then I’ll need to draw the curtains – they not very thick so there’ll still be some light in the room, but it will take a while for her eyes to adjust, which is all I’ll need.

I’ll then drop my shorts and wait to grab her as comes out of the bathroom. Have you noticed that everyone shuts the bathroom door, even when they are on their own.

With any luck, she’ll be naked when she comes out. If not, she won’t be wearing much and a couple of tugs will get those off.

I’ve done this before, lots of times, so I’m confident it’s going to work. Women are so predictable, fortunately.
 
Phew, it’s a real scorcher out there today. As soon as I’d eaten lunch, I rushed back to my room to strip off and savour the chill of the air conditioner on my flesh. Next on the agenda, a quick pee and a shower to rinse off this cream before setting down on the bed for some me time.

I’d got half way to the bathroom, when I heard my bedroom door open behind me. I started to turn and heard a flurry of movement before I was knocked flat on my face on the bed with a guy on top of me. I knew it was a guy because I could feel the shaft of his cock on my ass.

‘Mike, is that you?’ was all I managed to say before his hand covered my mouth.
 
Shit. It wasn’t meant to be like this. Lucky I was able to improvise as soon as I saw her still in the bedroom. I moved so fast she didn’t know what was happening. Surprise is always the key factor and my speed of reaction gave me the advantage.

She’s not resisting me, which is a pity because I like a girl who fights back. But some do react this way, at least to start with. It’s odd though that she doesn’t seem surprised at what has happened or bothered. Most girls are scared shitless. One actually wet herself; can you imagine it? But I didn’t let it put me off.

It’s turned out well though. My cock is pretty much up her ass already. All I need to do is get these shorts off and I’m on my way. This isn’t where I intended to start, but it would be churlish to pass up the opportunity she’s presented to me. my weight will hold her down and I can just manage to get the shorts down with my free hand.

Right, there I am. Nicely lined up and ready to enter by the back door. Ready or not, here I come.

And who is this Mike guy? Why did she think I might be him?
 
I feel his cock pressing into my ass and it dawns on me that this isn’t Mike and this isn’t what I want to happen. This is not the optional extra that I paid for. No way. There must be some mistake, someone must have got the bookings mixed up.

He’s on top, pinning with his weight and pegging me with his cock. But I’m big, I’m heavy and I’m strong, so I try to toss the guy off before he gets securely stuck up my ass. I buck, I roll from side to side. But everything I do to try to dislodge him seems to help him get more firmly embedded.

I manage to open my mouth wide enough to bite on his fingers. That makes him relax his grip and allows me to scream, not that I expect anyone to pay any attention around here.

‘No, no, stop, please, this isn’t what I wanted, don’t you understand, there’s been a mistake, a terrible mistake, please stop this right now, stop please stop.’
 
What the fuck is going on here? She can shout and scream as much as she wants, no one is going to take any notice. Half the guests are fucking right at this moment. But she’s throwing herself about so much I can hardly settle into a rhythm. The way she’s going she could break my cock and there’s no way I want that, so it’s time to make a tactical withdrawal.

I pull back quickly and, as soon as she feels me free of her hole, she’s off squirming up the bed. I was ready for her, grabbing her ankles, yanking her back and twisting so that she turns onto her back. She’s still yelling and cursing, so I slap her hard across her face. She falls back onto the pillows, eyes glaring, a tear running down her cheek. At least she’s still for a moment, so I take my chance, pushing myself between her thighs and thrust into her cunt, shooting in deep right up to my balls. That’s the first time this has happened to me.

‘You bitch,’ I pause in surprise, ‘you’re dripping wet. You want this, don’t you. That’s why you don’t want me up your ass, you want me to fuck your pussy for you.’

I stare at her and give her another slap for being a slut.
 
My ears are ringing, my face is stinging, and my ass is sore. And yes, since he mentions it, yes I am wet. That’s not because I am aroused; it’s because I’m shit scared. It’s lucky I haven’t wet myself.

OK, OK, I know I shouldn’t complain. I booked it and I didn’t specify exactly what I wanted. But hell this is supposed to be a holiday experience and some special fun. I never thought the guy would fuck my ass and then slap me about. No way did I ever expect to get beaten up. I’ve tried pleading with him and telling him he’s made a mistake, but that had no effect. Time to try a different track.

‘NO, stop, not that, I’m not on birth control, please don’t get me pregnant.’

That should make him pause; he won’t want this hotel to be sued for the cost of bringing up this guy’s child, let alone the distress that this is causing me. but he takes no notice. The next thing I now I’ve got another backhand smack across my face. My lip is bleeding and I can feel a tear running down my cheek. And he’s hammering like he’s got another appointment to get to. His balls are smacking into my ass. Thank goodness, those aren’t Mike’s balls. I have a row of bruises if they were.

Time for another change of tack. I lash out with my nails, aiming to scratch at his eyes.
 
I grab her wrists and force them back down until they are resting on the pillow beside her head. It’s a test of will as much of strength. Then I bring each leg over her thighs. She is trapped now. Overpowered. Totally under my control. It’s what she wants of course. They all do. However much women pretend to resent male control, they all grave it. They need to feel dominated and to be dominated to make them feel like women. However much she glares at me as I hold her down, I know what she is feeling, deep inside, because I can feel her cunt twitching. As I forced her arms down, she gripped my cock. The more I established control, the more her muscles played with my cock, tightening and relaxing, teasing me, sending me secret messages of her submission.

I hold her down, dominating her, letting her get used to her submission. She knows I’m right, that she has to submit in order to be satisfied, because that is what she wants, to be satisfied.

Now the moment is right. I start to withdraw slowly. Some women say size doesn’t matter, but for most it does. That’s my experience. And with one I know it matters. I let her feel my length as I slowly withdraw, until I am tickling her pussy with the tip of my change of circumstances. Then I let her count the inches as I slow insert myself again. In and out. Let her count and count again as she listens to the squelching as I glide along her juices. Let her feel that stretch too, as I force her open. And then at the end of each stroke let her feel the fulness within her.

I look down at her and read the message behind her eyes. Yes, this is what she wants. She is thanking me for it; I see it in the flashes of anger. Of course she is angry. She is angry with herself that she has to submit, but at the same time she can’t deny the pleasure it is giving her.

I’m enjoying this one. I’m going to take my time with her.
 
It’s a test of wills rather than strength. As he forces my arms down, he has my legs trapped plus the advantage of height and power. No way can I win, but I can make him fight me every inch. If he doesn’t read the hatred on my face, he can’t miss the determination to resist. There’s a clear message here: you may do what you want to do, but I won’t be helping and I’ll fight you all the way. I even try to squeeze his cock out, but it’s too firmly planted for me to budge it. At last my hands are forced onto the pillow and he holds himself poised over me, gloating at his triumph.

We all now this pose, right girls? Look at me, feel my virility, wait for me to demonstrated my power. I look at him and he reminds me of the first guy I had sex with. He was about the same age and power – strong but without those muscles that guys get pumping iron. He was my neighbour. Dad was out and my mom and his wife had gone shopping. He wandered across, started chatting, then popped in some suggestive remarks and finally started mauling me. I’m sure he was surprised when I didn’t resist. The truth was the guys of my age weren’t interested in me; there were lots of prettier girls to chase. Anyway, he took me on the settee and I lay and watched the patch of hairs around each nipple until I reached out and began stroking them and pinching his nipples. He liked that and started moaning – my first lesson in being able to control a guy. This man has the same patch of hair, but I won’t be giving him any pleasure. Afterwards my neighbour told me not to worry about getting pregnant as he had had an op to prevent him having more children. I was so touched that he was concerned about how I might be feeling that I told him I wouldn’t tell what he had done. He came round quite a bit after that, when I was alone, but after about 18 months he stopped. Maybe he was only interested in me when I was young. To tell the truth he wasn’t much good and I didn’t even come close to an orgasm. He was only interested in himself. like most guys. It took a long time for me to come across one who wanted me to experience pleasure. I should have kept hold of him, they don’t come around that often.

He’s moving slowly in and out now. OK, OK, I’ve got the message – feel my cock. But you’re not that long actually, pretty much average in my experience. Thickness, now that’s a different matter. When he gets moving faster, I’m going to be seriously stretched. Which is what he wants of course. He wants to fuck me, sure, but he wants to hurt me, leave me with a reminder of what he’s done to me. He’ll get off later imagining how I’m still suffering.

But there’s no need for him to feel smug though. He’s forgotten he’s gone his legs spread to hold me down. All I need is to get my leg free and those previous balls of his will get a hammering. I’ll need to be fast though. And I’ll have to overcome my natural reluctance. I know guys are arrogant and inordinately proud of their tackle, but I’m not one of those girls who enjoys causing them pain. But this is different. All I need is one chance.
 
She’s going to enjoy this; I can feel it. Before she was resisting me, but not any more. It’s impossible for her to disguise how she’s feeling. It’s easy to tell when a woman is nervous; you can feel it in her cunt. This one is relaxed and settled now. I knew she would be. It’s like they say, ugly girls fuck. The attractive ones think they just have to lie back while a guy admire them and gets on with it. They’re not bothered about the sex; they just want to be admired. The ugly ones know they need to work to get the guys. They’re not going to have them queueing, unless they have something to offer and that means giving the guys good sex.

Not that she’s really ugly. There’s nothing wrong with each of her parts. It’s just that they don’t match.

Yes, this is a woman who likes sex, so it’s time to get this piston pumping. That’s what every woman wants in the end. They want a strong man and they measure strength by what a guy do between their legs. Time for her to find out what I can so.

Let’s get this rhythm started. Long and slow to start with. Keep them long, short stabs are no use. Keep them slow do, but ram them harder each time. The build up the speed, still keeping them long, but they’re coming quicker now and more power with each thrust. I’m hammering her hard, but barely breathing hard yet. I notice her watching my chest; she’s clocking my stamina. This is going to last; that’s what she thinking and what she’s hoping. I can feel her settling into my rhythm. I release her hands so that I can adjust my position and get more power into my strokes. It’s safe now. It won’t be long before she’s joining in and urging me on.

She’s producing a lot of juice now. It’s washing over my balls. She’s flood soon and then she’ll be begging me to finish her. But I’m not in a hurry. No ma'am.
 
He’s good, I’ve got to give him that. Good technique and lots of stamina. In different circumstances, I might be up for this, but the circumstances aren’t different.

I know it’s my fault, not his, which is one reason why I don’t want to hurt him, well not any more than necessary. I booked for this special optional extra on my holiday and, just to add a bit of spice, I just ticked the general category and neglected to specify details. After all, that would be pointless, right? If I’d specified the details, there wouldn’t be any adventure. But this guy gone too far. Fucking my ass just wasn’t part of the deal – that was a whole different option - and now I don’t know how much I can trust him. I’ll be having words with the hotel later, but right now I need to get out of here.

He’s let go of my hands now, so he’s confident that I won’t be clawing at him again, but he still has his thighs over mine. He’s got a good body, reminds me of that neighbour who picked my cherry. I wonder how he’d react if I reached up and started playing with those nipples that are peeping out of his chest hair. He’d be suspicious and probably wouldn’t be able to cope. Some guys are like that; can’t bear not being in control and I guess that a guy who does this for a living is going to be one of those.

The rhythm’s building and I need to resist the temptation just to give in to it. I close my eyes so as not to betray myself and rehearse the plan. Wait until he’s on the back stroke, with just the tip of his cock in my cunt. He’ll be unsteady then and at his most vulnerable. The closest edge of the bed is to my left, which is fortunately closest to the door. If I can just topple him off me and onto the floor, I’ll get a chance for a clean break to the door.

What if I don’t make it? That thought gets put into my special box, the one with the triple locks and chains, where I bury things best not thought about. It’s quite full, but there’s space for this one.

I’ve got to act soon. He’s going faster and faster, making it more difficult to judge the right moment.

Right, next time, I’m ready. Go.

A quick shove with my hands on his shoulders and my thigh slipping between his legs. His cock is settling back inside me, but he’s toppling. I push with my whole and grind my thigh as best I can into his crotch, but he’s trying to protect his balls by gripping my thigh tight.

Then we both airborne, him grunting as he hits the floor, me crying out as I land on top of him, forcing his cock deep into me. I pull myself free and now I’m scrambling to get away from him and legging it to the door, throwing a chair over to block his path. My hand is almost on the handle. Just a few more inches.
 
Argh

Ugh

Damn

Fuck the bitch.

My balls are stinging; lucky for me she only caught me a glancing blow. But my back is aching from crashing onto the floor and the pain shoots along my spine as I try to get to my feet.

She could have taken me then while she had the advantage, but she didn’t. She’s heading for the door and I’ve only got a second or two to stop her.

I rise through the pain and stagger forward in pursuit. She throws a chair against my legs. I try to jump over it, but catch my foot and fall.

And as I fall I reach out and try to grab her legs.

All I manage to get hold of is her right ankle.

But that’s enough to slow her down. She falls onto to her side. We’re both on the floor now. She’s kicking out at me, but I daren’t let go. I manage to get onto one knee and get a hold on her other ankle. With one heave, she is away from the door. I pull again and she’s on her face in front of me. I jump onto her back and grab her hair, slamming her face down onto the floor. Once, twice, then again.

She’s moaning, but not struggling or fighting me any longer. This would be the moment to take her, but I know I can’t. That blow to my balls has sapped my strength. I can’t fuck her yet, but I can use the time. I drag her across the floor and haul her onto the bed. I get hold of a pillow case with my teeth and pull the pillow out. Now I have something to tie her hands behind her back. There’s no chance of her getting out of the room now.

Damn, I’m still soft. I rub myself but it’s too soon. I use the time to get a pair of panties from her drawer and gag her.

I’m starting to feel better now, getting stronger. I roll her onto her back and slap her face, hard. There’s blood running from the corner of her mouth and a cut above her left eye. She’s learnt her lesson now.

I’m feeling better already. Stiffening up nicely. Just a couple more minutes and she’ll get the pounding of her life.
 
Why is that even when a woman is a victim, she always feels that somehow she’s to blame? I had a lot to blame myself for. For booking this holiday. For ever thinking that rape could be a fantasy to be paid for as an extra. For not hitting the guy on the head with the bedside lamp while I had the chance. For not stamping on his balls when I had the chance.

But trussed on the bed, with my head spinning, the taste of blood in my mouth and the warm trickle as it ran down my chin, even then I realised that I could redeem the situation. There was still a chance. And that chance was dangling in front of me. The guy had gone soft and that made him vulnerable. Especially as he hadn’t gagged me.

I’ve had a lot of men, since that neighbour picked my cherry. And one think I’ve learned over the years is how much their prowess depends on pride and vanity. And how easily that bubble can be pricked.

‘You’re pathetic. Just look at you,’ I sneered. ‘I know girls with bigger clits than your cock. Little willy’s all wobbly,’ I continued as if speaking to a small boy, ‘just because he got a little bang between his legs.’

He didn’t reply. They never do.

‘Is this what always happens? Is that why you have to beat woman and tie them up? Is this the only way you can get them to wait around until you’re ready? Or,’ I stared him in the eye, ‘is it because this is the only way you can get ready? That’s it, isn’t it, you can’t get hard unless you feel in control and the only way you can feel in control is by force. This is the only way you can feel like a man, isn’t it? Except even you must know that this isn’t how men behave, not real men, not men with real power, virile men who can satisfy a woman. But you’re not one of those. You’re a pathetic excuse for a man.’

He was rubbing his cock now, frantically, trying to get it hard, fighting the softness but without much success.

‘Is that the best you can manage? Do you know how many men I’ve had, how many I am going to compare you to? How long is that cock compared to the longest I’ve taken or the shortest? How thick is it? How potent are those balls? How much sperm can they produce? None, probably. I bet you’re infertile.’

Still rubbing, and slightly stiffer, but not by much.

My words were having an effect.

‘Listen, can you hear the other couples fucking themselves sore next door and across the corridor. Go on, listen. Listen to the moans of pleasure from the women. You’ve probably never heard that, have you? Because you can’t satisfy a woman?.’

I was sure he was softer now. My words were undermining him.

‘You’re useless, you’re pathetic, you can’t even jerk yourself off.’

I let my eyes to fall to his cock and there they stayed, as it began to shrivel.
 
She’s a bitch; I’ve met women like her before. They hate men but they need us, which just makes them hate us more. Well, if she’s thinking her silly insults are going to stop me pounding her raw, she’s made a big mistake. What she doesn’t know is that I’ve been in here before. I know just where to put my hands on what I need to get me going again.

I leave her on the bed; she can’t get away. She deserves another good slapping and all in good time she will get everything she deserves. But right now I want her underwear and thongs, the ones she’s worn. Lucky for me she’s a slut who doesn’t bother to keep up with her washing. I grab her dirty thongs and panties and bury my face in them, watching her watching me as I inhale deeply. Then I see her eyes drop to my crotch. She’s watching my cock, seeing it stiffen up. It’ll be like a girder soon.

Her stench is strong and fills my nostrils. I hold her scent and rub her clothes over my cock. The silky satin stiffens me more. I feel my balls throbbing and stop. No way must I let myself cum too soon. There’ll be time to savour that, a lot of time, when I let myself build slowly to my climax.

I move swiftly to grab her ankles, push her legs apart and then up and over her shoulders, opening her crotch nice and wide. My cock slides in, deep inside, in one fast hard thrust. She’s not laughing any more. She can’t stifle her gasp of surprise and moan of pain. I’m bigger and harder than I was before; she’s made things worse for herself.

I hammer her harder, each thrust faster than the ones before, pushing her up the bed until her head is banging against the wall. She’s biting her lip but she can’t supress her groans. This is getting to her; I’m getting to her. She knows there is no escape.
 
I’m trapped. My feet are free so I could run, but he’d catch me and I couldn’t get the door open anyway. He hasn’t gagged me so I could scream, but no one would take any notice; there are all sorts of noises all the time. No one would take it seriously.

But even if I could get the door open and even if someone would take notice if I cried for help, it wouldn’t make any difference, because he’d get to me and stop me. And then, then, he’d beat me. I can’t take any more of that. I don’t mind playing rough, but that’s not the same as having my head smashed into the floor. I’d do anything to avoid another beating. Anything.

All I can do is lie here and watch, watch in horror as he pulls out my laundry. He knew exactly where it was. That can only mean one thing: he’s been in here before, snooping around, sniffing and touch, rubbing himself with my clothes, covering himself in my scent. I’ve been wearing clothes that he’s touched.

Wasted. All my effort attacking him, wasted. He’s rock hard again, harder than before and he’s got me trussed like a Thanksgiving turkey. All I can do is lie here, trapped, while he fucks me harder and harder. Every thrust is deeper, every time is more powerful. My head throbs from the repeated crashes into the wall above my bed.

He’s in control. being in control of me is bad enough, but he’s in control of himself. His breathing is still steady, despite his effort. He’s showing no signs of cumming and he’s certainly not going to give up before he does, and then what will he do?

And then suddenly he stops and drops my legs. I almost sigh with relief, except I know this isn’t going to be a relief. He’s kneeling between my thighs, his cock embedded inside me, just looking. I can almost hear him thinking what to do next, planning the next humiliation.
 
Time for a break. There’s no hurry. Most people don’t venture out again until the worst of the heat is over. Then it’s easy to slip out with the crowd. And that gives me plenty of time. Time to take my time. Time for some pay back. Pay back time.

I kneel between her thighs and stare down at her. She’s subdued now; there’s no more fight left in her. She tried to break away and failed and that failure will have undermined her confidence. She tried to humiliate and failed and that failure will have destroyed any confidence she had left.

But I haven’t forgotten what she did to me. Kicking my balls, saying those horrid things about me.

It’s a pity about her tits. I like to see the way they swing and sway as I hump a girl, but hers are too small. I’ve seen guys better racked than this. But those nipples, they’re really special. I’ve noticed guys looking at them as they pass by her. I would swear I’ve actually seem come cocks twitch when they see them. She’s proud of them. You can tell by the way she rubs the sun cream over them and the way she displays herself.

I reach down and roll them between my fingers. This will get her confused. She’ll be enjoying the pleasure of my touch and the pleasure of knowing that I’ve noticed her pride and joy.

I start to twist and pull them. She still doesn’t protest. It looks like she doesn’t mind a bit of rough. Well, I’m happy to oblige.

I dig in my nails, tearing at her flesh. She bites her lip, determined not to respond to my treatment, not to let me know her pleasure.

Then I stop. The look of disappointment in her eyes tells me that I was right. but this isn’t about her pleasure, it’s about mine.

I slap her tits, watching them wobble, that’s all they can do. She knows I’m laughing at her, amused by how small they are.

They I punch them. Playfully to start with, then harder. Some blows from the front, others from the side. I’ve heard that side blows are more painfully, so I concentrate on those, harder each time, faster every time. She’s not laughing at me now. She knows I am in control and she can feel my rod still firmly lodged up her cunt. She can feel it twitching the more I hurt her.

I’m bored with hitting her. Time for more fucking.
 
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