This is the next instalment of the series, really getting into it now. Thanks to all who have read the previous two parts.
Thanks again to Jacob for editing.
Quick Summary:
University student Carly cheated on her absent boyfriend Aaron. She was caught by her roommate and BFF's boyfriend, Jack. He threatened to expose Carly's indiscretion unless she did what he wanted.
Carly was given a choice: To let her secret be revealed and lose her boyfriend. Or give in to Jack's disgusting demands. She loathed Jack, but what could she do?
After going down on Carly he demanded she return the favour. Later he cornered her in the library and forced her to blow him. Then after she had fulfilled what he wanted he fucked her against the bookshelves. Now Carly hopes her ordeal is over and Jack is satisfied. But is he?
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For the next few days after the incident in the library, Jack acted like nothing had happened. We barely interacted at all and he seemed wholly disinterested in me. Whilst I felt relief that my ordeal was finally over, I felt consumed with guilt.
Every time I saw my best friend Gemma, I felt a twisted knot in my stomach. I had sucked on her boyfriend's dick and even had it deep inside me. I hated Jack for putting me in that position and hated myself more for allowing it.
I had no one to talk to about what had happened. I knew it would help to work through the guilt by voicing it to someone, and naturally, Gemma would be the obvious choice. We were like sisters and usually told each other everything.
Unfortunately, as Aaron's sister and Jack's girlfriend, she was the last person I could turn to. I couldn't talk to Connor as, well I didn't know him that well, and I needed a girl's perspective. The fact he lived with us wouldn't help matters. Sadly, all my other friends were also friends with Gemma, so I was stuck on my own.
We all continued living together in our shared house. Gemma's birthday was coming up in a few weeks and she wanted a house party. I had so far avoided drinking since that night with Connor and worried about what Jack would do or say if we were both under the influence. If I'm honest I didn't trust myself either. Aaron was supposed to be coming down that weekend, which further increased my anxiety. I tried to persuade him not to come. But he was insistent; Gemma was his sister after all.
By then it would be over a month since we had seen each other. I toyed with the idea of surprising him by visiting him this weekend. Maybe if I saw him in a different environment, away from Connor and Jack, I wouldn't feel as guilty? We could enjoy a dirty weekend together and reconnect. Hopefully, that would at least satisfy my out-of-control sex drive.
But there was a small voice inside me telling me that he would sense my anxiety. He would pester me and what If I broke down and revealed everything? No, better to wait another few weeks and let time dull the feelings of guilt and shame inside me.
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I spent my time studying and avoiding all my housemates as best I could. It hurt me to not spend time with Gemma, but how could I? Not when she was always around her dickhead boyfriend.
I felt a tingle whenever I went to the library. Experiencing pleasure in public here had been one of the most erotic moments of my life. I hated that it was with Jack; it tainted the whole experience and made me sick thinking about it.
When I wasn't studying or sleeping, I was at the gym. Connor got his fitness from sport, and Gemma and Jack hadn't been to the gym for ages to my knowledge. I guess they were keeping fit by fucking. Imagining Jack fucking Gemma from behind, as he had with me was shamefully arousing.
In my first year with Gemma, I had dressed conservatively at the gym; big baggy shorts and oversized t-shirts. Now that I had lost weight, I felt the compulsion to show the work I had put in. Stereotypically, I now wore very tight-fitting yoga shorts, which were a pain to put on but made my arse look insane. To complete the look, I wore a tight Lycra crop top, that cupped my tits exquisitely.
I enjoyed the looks I got from the gym sharks. The muscle-bound guys who pretended not to drool over me. I had gone from avoiding being near anyone as I worked out, to shamelessly picking machines in clear view. It was harmless exhibitionism and made me feel good.
After all the crap with Jack and Connor, I even felt guilty for doing that. Aaron didn't deserve it, so I chose to go to the gym early in the morning before class. No self-respecting student was getting up that early to work out. As I expected the gym was empty.
I worked up a sweat warming up on the treadmill before starting my routine. My blonde hair was tied in a long ponytail and there was a slight sheen on my creamy skin. I headed over to the weights section and started doing squats. I had sculpted a pretty amazing arse and needed to maintain it. After several lunges, I moved onto my upper body.
Laying on the bench press I selected my weight and completed a set. I had perhaps not been concentrating and went a little heavy, as I started to struggle. The bar wobbled alarmingly as I tried to push it back up.
"Hey, watch yourself!" came a voice from above and I saw Jack come into view.
He reached over and grabbed the bar, easily lifting it and putting it back into place.
"What the fuck are you doing here!" I said in shock.
"Erm, working out. What's it look like?" Jack said with a confused expression.
He was wearing an old ripped, gym kit that showed off his lithe muscles well. He was not a roided muscle man but still had a decent body.
"Oh, so you randomly choose to work out now! When I'm here!" I said, standing up, folding my arms, and wearing a scowl.
"The world doesn't revolve around you, sweetheart. Didn't even know you'd be here. Don't care either," Jack said with a shrug, as he walked off.
"Bastard," I grumbled as I carried on my exercises.
Seeing the smug bastard made my skin crawl and my blood boil. I watched as he walked over to the treadmill facing the mirrors. It was hard to concentrate on my workout with Jack there. I could feel him leering at me, but whenever I looked over, his eyes were staring at his phone. He had it in a case, stuck to the mirror, and ran whilst watching a show. What a prick! That will leave a horrible smudge on the glass, I thought.
Everything that twat did was disrespectful and vile; I was finding fault with everything about him. His stupid running gait, that old, ripped, gym top, his stupid floppy hair - the way it bounced as he ran. How his ass flexed and the way his thigh muscles tensed as he powered through the run. The light film of sweat glistened on his skin. Fuck! Was I getting turned on?
What the fuck was wrong with me?
The more I glanced at him the more irritated I became that I hadn't caught him looking at me. I started doing more suggestive exercises; deep squats, chest extensions, pushing my tits out - anything to get him to look. I wanted another chance to rage at the smug little prick.
When he finished his run, he pulled the phone off the mirror and hopped off the treadmill. He left his disposable drink bottle in the cup holder and headed to the changing rooms. 'Littering' on top of everything else! I stormed over and grabbed the bottle, following him to the changing room.
