Helping yourself

You try to find something interesting to watch as you nibble your snack. It seems like a dead night for television, and you can't find anything that holds your attention. You finish your snack and sigh, then carry the plate out to the kitchen and rinse it off. You're bored and a bit annoyed to be spending an evening babysitting instead of partying. Or even better, getting laid. You smile to yourself as you press your hips against the counter, remembering the last time.

It was two weeks ago, another Friday night. You and your friends had gone to one of he college bars, drinking and dancing and partying. You danced a lot with a lean athletic frat boy with curly blonde hair, Russ. The two of you got hotter and hotter as you danced, you teasing him and flirting as your own arousal blossomed. Finally you were making no pretence of dancing, but just clutching at each other and kissing. When you broke the embrace, saying you were going to the restroom, he followed you down the hallway and pushed you through the rear door of the bar, grabbing you again and pushing you against the alley wall, pressing between your thighs as he pulled your skirt up and pulled your wisp of panties aside. He fucked you hard, pressing you against the brick wall as you wrapped your legs around him, grinding yourself against his thrusting cock as you came repeatedly. When he was done he tucked his cock away and left you without a word, left you fucked and dishevelled against the alley wall. Left you like a cheap bar-slut, feeling used and discarded.

And intensely satisfied. You've replayed the incident in your head a few times since then, and it has featured in your erotic dreams on more than one occasion. Twice you woke up with the dream fresh and hot in your mind, making you scrabble for your vibrator to fuck yourself to orgasm.

You give a little shiver, looking down to see your stiff nipples bulging your thin sweater, and feeling the warm moisture growing between your thighs.

You decide you need a drink, searching through cabinets until you find their liquor, and pouring yourself a healthy slug of vodka, adding ice and orange juice to it before carrying it back to the TV room. You look at some shelves full of DVDs trying to find something that might be interesting. Something to match the mood you're in, you chuckle as you sip your drink.

After rejecting several titles, you pull out something called "Last Tango in Paris." The box shows a young woman in the embrace of a older man, both of them naked. You've never heard of it, but reading the brief description it sounds like some kind of weird sexual love story. There's a warning about high sexual content, which is just what you're in the mood for. With a grin, you put in in the player and sit back on the couch to watch.

It starts slowly but within minutes there is a scene of the young woman being fucked while standing by the older man just after they've met for the first time. It's not explicit porn, so you don't see close ups of penetration, but that somehow makes it even more erotic. You hand falls between your legs, rubbing your awaking pussy through your jeans.

The movie isn't just sex scenes, but there enough of them to keep you interested, particularly considering your increasingly horny mood, and you start purring softly as you sip your drink and stroke yourself.

About half way into the movie there is a scene that has your eyes riveted to the screen, your mouth open and excited, your hands unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans so you can stroke your pussy more thoroughly.

In it, the older man orders the young woman to bring him some butter as he lies on the floor eating crackers. When she does he pulls her face down to the floor and tugs her pants down, using the butter to lube her ass. As she cries and struggles feebly he fucks her solidly. The scene is all the more arousing because they have most of their clothes on. You find yourself entranced with the scene, putting yourself in the role of the helpless young woman being forcibly sodomized, hating and loving it at the same time.

By the time the scene ends you have your hand under your silk panties, rubbing your clit and moaning softly. You replay the scene, watching intently as you finger yourself, wishing you had your vibrator, but loving the feel of your own pleasuring hand.

You replay it again, biting your lip as your arousal builds, whimpering softly as you rub your flowering pussy. With a needy groan you stand up and push your jeans and panties to your knees, pulling your sweater up over your braless breasts, then lie face down on the couch rubbing your clit and thrusting two fingers into your eager cunt while squeezing your stiff nipples with your other hand.. You hit replay over and over as you pleasure yourself, deliberately delaying your orgasm, letting it build as the sensation of your hand and the astonishingly erotic images on the TV drive you closer and closer to explosion.

You're shuddering and gasping, nearly there, your hips rocking against your impaling fingers as you imagine yourself being taken by a strong older man, taken and used mercilessly as he takes his pleasure from your helpless body.

"Ohhhh! Ohhh Yes..." you moan, teasing yourself, lost in your fantasy as you watch the image on the screen. "Ohhh God...fuck my ass...Ohhh...I can't stop you....Oh God... I'm so close..."

"Glad to see you're making yourself at home," a voice says, breaking into your concentration.

"Oh My God!," you squeak. "Mr. Thornhaven! Oh My God!" Flushing deeply with humiliation, you look up at him in shock as you try to pull your pants up.