Violent Confrontation in the Barn

Erin’s eyebrows scrunched, “What?”

“There’s a girl pulling up. She’s a little protective of me. Even though we’re not together.”

Erin was a smart girl; she got it. She pecked my cheek, “I’m not hiding and I’m still visiting you later. Take care of her.”

She grabbed an armload of lifejackets and carried them out the barn with her. Moments later the gator slid to a stop on the gravel in front of barn. Cass lifted a tub out of the bed. I ran over to help her. We carried it inside together and set it with the rest.

Cass asked, “Why was a volleyball counselor carrying lifejackets down the hill?”

I shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t work here anymore.”

That wasn’t the right answer. Cass pushed me against the same beam I had pushed Erin against. Grabbed the front of my shorts and pulled them toward her. She sneered, “You smell like rotten fish. Did you really fuck another girl with my pussy still on your breath?”

I knew she had a knife in her pocket. With my pants already pulled out, it would be quick work slicing up my cock. I was vulnerable. Caught.

I admitted the truth, “I have a problem. You know I have a problem. I’m addicted. If sex is offered, I can’t deny it.”

She dug into her pocket for the knife, “I can help you solve that problem.”

“Cass! I like you! You’re my best friend! We get along. We’re damn near perfect for each other!”

“I don’t stay with guys that cheat!”

How could I explain that we had only been romantic one night? How that didn’t constitute a relationship and cheating? How could I tell her she was crazy without getting my dick chopped up?

“I’m sorry. I don’t deserve you.”

“You don’t,” she agreed. Her hand grabbed my cock inside my shorts, her other hand flicked open the knife.

“You deserve someone better. I’m fucked up.”

Her hand squeezed and stroked me. Her knife point moved up my chest toward my throat.

“How can I win the prize if you give everyone a ride? You’re a participation trophy.”

Despite my fear, her hand was getting me hard. I said, “Doesn’t the amount of competition make victory that much sweeter? If you’re the one I choose after all these girls have given me their best shot.”

The blade slid up my neck giving me a shave that I needed. “How can I be sure you’re going to chose me at the end?”

“That’s up to your performance,” I said. “Make it an easy choice for me.”

With a knife at my throat, she got me hard.

She sat me in a chair and mounted me. I made sure to fuck her tight pussy so hard and roughly that she dropped her knife and screamed for god.

When the knife was dropped, I hugged her close, and knocked her to her back. I pinned her hands to the dirt and kept ramming my cock into her, hoping to damage her cervix, tear her pussy like she was in labor. She took it all and came hard on my cock.

I couldn’t win with her.

The fear, the tight pussy, the intensity. I was ready to blow. I pulled out and put my bloody cock into her mouth. She sucked my cum into her mouth, show me the white puddle on her tongue before swallowing. She was a freak addicted to my big cock.

Yeah, she was my best friend, but best friends don’t leave your neck dripping blood after you fuck.

As she pulled back on her shorts, she warned, “Fuck who you want, but you better choose me. If you don’t, your body won’t be found,”

She got up on her tip toes and made me bend down to give her a goodbye kiss.

I was spent and the sun wasn't close to setting yet.

I should’ve collected my things. Tried to find a way back to the cornfields. Tell my parents that I fucked Satan and I was ready to repent.

Instead I waited.