Fireworks 28

CW: Nonconsent, impregnation

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I thought, as I stepped into the shower the evening of the fourth, that I was going to have a quiet night in.

Everyone in my apartment complex had been talking about the big fireworks display the city was putting on for the Fourth of July. Half of the complex wanted to watch it from the hill in City Park, the other half from the high school bleachers. As far as I knew, I was the only one staying home.

Fireworks had never really done much for me. Besides, I figured that if I had the complex to myself, I could have a long shower and play some video games, and maybe finish the evening off with a romance novel and my vibrator. I can get loud when I'm enjoying myself, and I was looking forward to not worrying about what my neighbors might think.

I looked down at myself as I stood beneath the hot water. I didn't look much like the main character of my romance novel, and I looked absolutely nothing like my video game character. They were both tall, blonde, and busty, and the pilot character had a bunch of muscles too. I was on the short side, with b-cup boobs and straight black hair, and while I technically had muscles you couldn't see them much.

I wrapped a towel around myself and stepped out of the shower. For once, I couldn't hear my upstairs neighbor's music or the kids in the next unit. For a brief moment, it was nice. I opened the door to my darkened bedroom and fumbled for the light.

A hand closed on my wrist before I could reach the switch. I screamed as I was pulled forward, a second arm wrapping around my body and pulling me close against a shadowed form. Beyond the strength of his grasp, I could feel that he was naked, and that only my towel stood between us.

"No!" I squealed, struggling in his grasp. "Help!"

"There's nobody here but us," he said. His voice was calm, and almost warm. "Everyone's out watching the fireworks. But I figured the cute little girl in 4C might like some fireworks too."

I couldn't free myself from him - with one arm he held me close against his body, and he let the other wander down my body, feeling me through the towel. I gasped as he caressed my breast before reaching down to feel the line of my hip.

"Stop!" I cried, although it came out half a gasp.

"Eventually," he said. "But not before I see what you need."

His hand snaked underneath my towel, caressing my inner thigh. I cried out as he explored me, his fingers glancing across my bush before reaching my lips. He sighed softly as he traced my cleft, even as I twisted in his grasp.

"You're all wet, sweetie," he said.

"I just showered!" I insisted.

He chuckled. "Were you touching yourself in the shower?"

I wasn't, but I couldn't find the words to say so. I had been looking forward to reading Shades of Dusk, where the heroine's little sister is ravished by a bandit, and my pussy was delighted to have a live reenactment. I tried to force it away, to make my body stand down, but my desperate effort only sent me higher.

"No," I gasped, as his fingers circled my clit. "Stop!"

"You need this," he said. "Touching yourself just isn't the same, is it?"

He slid a single finger inside me, and my wet pussy welcomed him inside. I squealed in outrage, hoping that he wouldn't be able to hear the moan beneath it, knowing that he could.

"Tell you what," he said. "If I can't give you any fireworks in five minutes, I'll let you get back to your plans."

I tried to look at him, to gauge if this was a trick. The room was dark, and only the white flash of the first of the fireworks lit his face. I couldn't tell for certain if his smile was sincere or smug, but I didn't know what choice I had.

He wasn't waiting for my response, anyway. His fingers hadn't stopped exploring, sliding gently but firmly into my cunt before pulling back to circle my clit. Far from helping me, my body was eager to welcome him; I could feel my wetness dripping onto his fingers and my fire rising at his touch. I tried to twist away, pushing against his arm, and he pulled me tight against him.

"None of that," he said.

I gasped. He hadn't hurt me, but I could feel the strength in his arm, and I could feel his cock pressing against my ass through the towel. My heart raced, and every lurid passage from my romance novels tried to rush through my mind at once. Trying to force my way free was going to be counterproductive.

I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself. If I could send my mind away, maybe I could get my pussy under control, and maybe he'd keep his word. I tried to think about anything else - work, the vacuuming, my cat - anything that could take my mind away from the sensation of his fingers caressing my lips. For a brief moment, I felt myself stall.

His moan brought me back. I wondered for a brief moment if he was going to cum on my towel, but his hand never faltered. A distant exploding firework dimly lit the room, and I caught sight of his expression in my mirror - his eyes were closed, and I realized that his every bit of attention was focused on me.

"Your pussy is wonderful," he groaned. "She's so desperate for this."

"Stop," I panted. I could hear my own heavy breathing, and I knew that if I started moaning I'd be lost.

"I couldn't stop if I wanted to," he said. "Not until I feel you cum on my hand."

I made a wordless, angry sound, but I could feel how close it was to a moan. I looked around the room, trying to find something to pull my attention away, but the only light was the red and blue flashes of distant fireworks, and it illuminated nothing as well as the mirror that faced me.

I could see everything in that mirror, in split-second fragments of red and blue. I saw his head leaning close against me, as if he was kissing my neck or whispering in my ear. I watched his hand move between my pale thighs, all of his motion and attention focused on drawing my pleasure out. I saw as much as felt the rise and fall of my chest, its pace rising as he led me higher.

"No," I moaned.

"Oh, yes," he replied. "Your pussy needs this so bad."

I tried to shake my head, but I couldn't hold back the sound any longer. My every breath was a pleasured gasp, and then a helpless moan. My anger at being forced by a stranger was being buried beneath a flood of lust, and it was everything I could do to keep my head above water

"Oh yes," he said, as if replying to me. I could hear his lust, too, but mostly I could hear a sort of awe, as if my pussy was one of the wonders of the world. "You don't have to hold it back."

I wanted to shout at him, but the pleasure overtook it. The best I could do was to sound a bit outraged as I moaned for him, my voice filling up the empty room, almost drowning out the wet sounds of his fingers in my cunt. I wanted to be defiant, to be strong enough to fight him off, but if anyone had been listening they would have thought I was his bitch.

"No," I moaned. I bucked my hips in a desperate bid to escape the pleasure, and he pulled me tighter.

"Yes," he groaned.

I heard the distant clap of rockets as the last of my resistance failed. I cried out as the pleasure burst inside me, loud enough to wake any neighbors that had been around. My pussy contracted, squeezing desperately at the fingers he buried inside me, determined to share her pleasure as widely as she could. My every nerve was a spark of fire, burning with forbidden pleasure, and I saw nothing but stars as I wailed in his arms.

I could hear him harmonizing with me, as I slid down from my peak. Beneath my every helpless wail of pleasure was a groan of satisfaction. He wasn't keeping himself quiet any more than I was, and I couldn't tell if he was unable to keep his lust under wraps or if he just didn't care to.

"Oh, cutie," he gasped. "That couldn't have been more than two minutes."

I fought to catch my breath. His fingers hadn't stopped moving; they were moving as if he wanted to tease me towards another peak, and my body was telling me that it wouldn't mind.

"Let me go," I moaned.

"I will," he said. "Once I give you what you need."

He drew his arms back. Without thinking I stepped away, only realizing as I moved that he still held the corner of my towel. It fell to the ground, and despite the darkness I covered my pussy with one hand as I stepped back.

My eyes were starting to adjust, so I could see him stepping closer to me. His eyes gleamed in the flashes of light, amplifying his excitement. He was tall and slender, and his hard cock pointed eagerly in my direction.

"No," I gasped.

I stepped backward and bumped into my bed, throwing me off balance for a moment. He rushed forward, and I scrambled back onto the bed to escape his reach. He leapt up onto the bed and straddled me, his hips holding me against the mattress.

"No!" I cried out, loud enough that my entire building could have heard it. But there were no shouts, or footsteps outside, or knocks on the door. Only he could hear me, and he was grabbing my wrists, pressing me against the mattress and looking at my naked body.

"You are so beautiful," he said.

I struggled to twist out of his grasp, but he held firm. One of my hands almost dangled off the edge of the bed, but nothing was within reach. My heart was racing, and I could see my chest rising and falling in what must have been an enticing manner. Beneath his hips, I could feel my wetness dripping from my pussy, and I pressed my legs together as best I could.

He looked down at my bush, then lifted one of his legs so that he could press his knee between mine. I squealed and tried to twist away, but he was insistent, making a space between my legs and then shifting his hips into it.

"No!" I squealed as I saw him settle between my legs, his cock pointed at my lips. I looked up at him and caught his eye in a glimmer of red from the window.

"Yes," he growled, and pressed forward.

I cried out, as he pressed his head against my lips and began to slide inside, but anyone listening would have been hard-pressed to tell what sort of cry it was. There was a wail of violation in there, but also a gasp of pleasure; I said no, but it sounded a lot like a moan by the end. He groaned in pleasure with each moment until he was buried inside me, his ecstasy untempered by anxiety or regret.

"No," I moaned. I tried to twist my hips, to slide out from beneath him, but none of my frantic motions stopped him from savoring my pussy.

"Do you feel how bad your pussy needed this?" he asked softly. He drew back and thrust in gently before I could respond, and my thoughts dissolved.

He sought out his rhythm carefully, his eyes on my face. I wanted to fight, but I couldn't even keep from moaning as he filled me, his cock stretching me better than any of my toys. I couldn't help but think about Shades of Dusk, and how the heroine's sister kept calling out for rescue as she was ravished. I was calling out, but even I couldn't tell what sort of release I was begging for.

"You've been such a good girl," he said. "But your pussy wants you to be slutty, doesn't she?"

"No," I moaned. My pussy was calling me a liar, but I couldn't stay quiet. "I don't want this!"

"You need it, though," he groaned.

I looked down. The fireworks had picked up, and every few seconds a new color cut through the darkness. A bright yellow illuminated his face, his eyes bright as he watched me gasp at his efforts. A burst of blue lit my chest, my tits bouncing with his thrusts. A flash of crimson showed me our hips - my legs spread as he moved between them, his hard cock sliding between my eager lips.

The light was intermittent, but there was no escape from the sound or the sensation. He had settled into a slow and determined rhythm, drawing back and thrusting in until his bush pressed against mine and his cock filled my pussy. He was panting softly, not holding himself back but not carried away yet either. My pussy was wet enough that his thrusts made a soft, wet sound, reminding me with every motion that my double-crossing body was welcoming him.

I couldn't stay silent. I tried to cry out in the hope that someone would rescue me, but each time I wailed, a moan of pleasure rushed out. My body didn't care what I wanted, or even who was fucking me; she was getting the bare cock that she wanted and I was just along for the ride. My cries for help faded into offended moans, my anger all but subsumed under my lust, my unwilling pleasure filling the room

"There you are," he panted as he thrust into me. "Are you gonna cum for me again?"

"No!" I wailed. I had no idea how I'd hold myself back, but I was determined to deny him something.

"Really?" he asked. "You're just gonna lie there until I cum inside you?"

"Don't!" I gasped. "Please, I'm not safe!"

"You're perfectly safe," he grunted. "No one's gonna hurt you while I'm filling you up."

I looked down. His shaft vanished into my fertile cunt, and I could feel his balls brushing against my thighs, full of potent sperm. I thought about how easy it would be for him to claim me, fill my body with his seed and watch my belly swell. I struggled against his grip, my heart racing anew at the thought.

"That turns you on, doesn't it?" he asked.

"No!" I wailed. I couldn't stay quiet, though - his every thrust drew out a gasp, or a moan, or a squeal of outrage that seemed to serve the same purpose. I couldn't conceal my pleasure from him; he could hear it rising beneath him, feel my body responding to his touch.

I could see him grinning in the intermittent light from the fireworks. I braced myself for more teasing, but for a long moment he seemed content to just use me, his thrusts lingering deep in my pussy. His moans were soft but insistent, a baritone rumble of contented pleasure that ran beneath my desperate cries. We were communicating, I supposed - his moans told me that he was enjoying me, and my wails let him know that I wished I wasn't enjoying him, but I was.

He shifted his legs, and I watched as he pinned my legs between his despite my frantic attempts to kick him off. His ankles pressed against mine, pushing my legs closer together. The position left me less able to kick, and pressed my lips closer together around his invading cock.

It might have been easier for me if the new position hurt. Instead, it gave my cunt a bit more of his touch. I roared, but I could feel my body rising towards another peak. Disbelief and anger crept into my cries, but neither he nor my body were bothered.

"Yes," he gasped. "This is what your pussy needed. Someone to pin you down and fuck you, so she could get what she wanted."

"Stop!" I cried. But as I watched him move and felt my body rising at his touch, I knew there was no way out. He'd lit the fuse, the one I'd been trying so hard to keep dry, and now nothing was going to stop the explosion.

My words dissolved as I rose toward that blast. I wailed a cry of helplessness that echoed through the empty apartment complex. I struggled in his arms, unable to push him away and unable to stave off the pleasure that swelled inside me. I tried to look away, but the fireworks were rising towards their climax too, and they illuminated everything I was trying to deny. They showed me the determined rise and fall of his hips, and the way my tits bounced in time with his thrusts, and the sweat on my skin. I was flying, and I couldn't stop until I burst.

I closed my eyes when the explosion came, but I saw stars all the same. They burst before my mind's eye - crimson for the way my blood sang with primal desire, yellow for the sparks that danced along my every nerve, and blue for my despairing self who wished it didn't feel so exquisite. I felt every inch of his invading cock as my cunt squeezed it desperately, eager for everything it had.

I screamed in pleasure as my pleasure burned before him, loud enough to hurt my own ears, but he was oblivious to it. I caught a glimpse of him as I started to fall back to earth, and his expression was somewhere between lust and awe, as if my climax was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Yes," he gasped as he watched me. I could barely line my thoughts up, but I could hear in his tone that his own fuse was burning. The thought of his impending climax made my pussy twitch in spite of me. I tried to squirm away, but between his excited grasp and the haze left by my climax I could barely move.

"Oh, you're perfect," he sighed. His gaze went everywhere - my wide eyes, the chaos of my hair, my bouncing tits, and my squirming hips. He took it all in greedily, as if he was running out of time. The sparks of my pleasure had lit his, and I could feel him rising.

"Please," I whispered. "Pull out. I'm not safe."

"I know," he groaned. "That's why you're so wet. Because your pussy wants you to take my load."

"No," I said. I knew it was true - my pussy was every bit the dumb slut he'd made her out to be - but I couldn't give in.

"And I'm gonna give your pussy what she wants," he said. I could feel his pace rising and hear his breathing growing rough as he drew closer. "I'm gonna fill you with my seed!"

"No!" I wailed desperately. "Don't get me pregnant!"

He groaned and met my gaze. The light of the final fireworks glimmered in his eyes as he thrust into me, his hard cock filling my cunt with each desperate stroke. He wanted me, wanted to claim my womb with his seed, and nothing I could say or do would stop him.

He didn't look powerful as he rose up, though. His eyes widened, he cried out in pleasure, and he looked to all the world as if he was the helpless one. The pleasure was carrying him away, up and up until he burst.

I supplied the sound when his explosion finally came. His pace reached a fever pitch, then he groaned softly but fervently as his cock swelled and flexed inside me. I cried out to the empty building, protesting being bred, protesting how deeply my cunt welcomed it. I wailed with each thrust and each splash of his seed, even as I felt my pussy squeezing his cock and urging him on.

The fireworks reached their climax with us, and every moment stood out in vibrant color. His eyes rolled back as he claimed me, the pleasure too much for him to bear. His hips made quick, frantic motions as he thrust into me, desperate to plant his seed as deep as he could. We were sweaty, from our efforts to chase pleasure or avoid it, and our bodies glimmered in the shifting light. I kicked my legs, long after it was clear it would do me no good, but I could see my toes curling with the pleasure he'd forced on me.

He gasped as we all fell back to earth, the light outside the window fading and leaving us in darkness once again. I moaned a vague denial as our bodies finished, my pussy contentedly squeezing the last little waves of cum from his cock. He paused there, catching his breath, his cock still buried inside me.

I wanted to throw him off, knock him to the floor and free myself, but I was just as exhausted as he was. So I lay there until he rose up to look me in the eye, and gave me a kiss that I hardly resisted.

"We both needed that," he said.

I tried to protest, but he pulled his cock free, and my words dissolved into a moan at the sudden emptiness. He looked down at my body, and I wondered what he was thinking. Was he congratulating himself for claiming my body? Imagining what I'd look like with a baby bump? Or just appreciating the view one last time?

I didn't get an answer. He shifted his hips, climbing off of me, then released my wrists. He stepped out of my bedroom, and I heard him quickly throw on some clothes he must have left there before stepping out the door.

I tried to gather my thoughts and catch my breath. I knew there were a lot of practical things that I needed to do, but I gave myself a moment to figure it out. And, like the dumb slut that my pussy wanted me to be, I let that moment stretch until I fell into a well-fucked sleep.