Futile.

He presses his tongue as deeply inside of you as he can reach, and you break. A scream of ecstasy forces your lips to part as your legs close tightly around him, fighting to keep him in place as orgasm sweeps over you, shaking your body and mind.

Finally, you come down, legs falling away limply as you struggle to catch your breath. Wow. That was...

Why did it have to be him of all people who made you feel that way?

Josh pushes himself to his knees, staring you straight in the eyes as he licks his glossy lips. You don't bother fighting as he presses his mouth to yours, implicitly understanding what he wants. Your tongue laps out, cleaning your juices from him. Though you want to deny it, the taste is actually quite pleasant.

Your heartbeat rockets as you hear a zipper lowering, followed by the rustling of jeans. You feel the rough material against your legs lowering down the bed. He sits back on his knees between your legs, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside unceremoniously. Much to your continued dismay, he's actually pretty hot. Muscular but lean, well toned, sculpted definition...

He sits there for a moment, so you glance up, confused as to why he's hesitating. You quickly drop your gaze, feeling like your face will spontaneously combust at the smirk on his face. He clearly caught you checking him out and was enjoying the attention. Leaning forward once more, pressing his chest against yours, he chuckles, placing a light kiss on your cheek as his hands run along your sides from your chest to your hips.

"No need to be shy, Smarty," he whispers. "It's not the last time you're going to see it, after all." You shiver at the implication. He sincerely intends to keep you, to make you his.

One of his hands releases your hip, moving between you to align his cock with your slit. He teases you a bit, rubbing his head up and down your lips until you finally let out a moan, involuntarily bucking your hips faintly. That's all he needs.

You cry out as he enters you once more, giving you no quarter. He pounds into you with reckless abandon, sucking, biting, and kissing your neck as he holds your hips so tightly, you suspect you'll find nail marks dug into your skin when he lets go. You couldn't hold back if you tried, moaning and screaming with every strike of his cock in your cunt. Soon enough, you've given in to the pleasure, both arms and legs wrapping around him as your hips attempt to buck back.

"That's it." He speaks directly into your ear. You can hear the smirk on his face. "Just enjoy it. You can have this any time you want, you know. You just have to agree to be mine."

You can't control your muscles enough to form cohesive words, your attempt at responding limited to a moan which raises in pitch halfway through, his cock hitting a particularly sensitive spot inside of you. He laughs, lowering his head to your chest where he lavishes your tits with sloppy attention. It takes little time for them to be entirely slick with spit, not one square millimeter spared his tongue and lips.

Just as you feel like you're about to cum, all of your muscles tightening around him, Josh slows to a crawl. For a moment, you think he's stopped moving entirely, groaning in protest as you try to buck into him. His hands **** your hips into the mattress firmly, keeping himself completely in control of the pace. After a few gentle strokes, your muscles start to relax, your high gradually fading. Even so, he maintains his speed, smirking with mischievous self-satisfaction. Absently, your hands move to his front, slowly feeling every muscle tremulously.

You can hardly believe any of this is happening; even worse... You're enjoying it. Sincerely. If he keeps treating you like this, it won't be long until you start losing your mind. Worse yet, you want it. The idea of your long-time bully completely destroying your resistance, dominating your body and mind, making you into his... girlfriend? Slut? You aren't sure exactly what he might turn you into, but the idea drives you wild nonetheless.

Words try to push through your lips, coming out as a breathy, bad imitation of mumble rap.

"What was that, John?" he prompts, bringing his head up to meet your eyes.

"P-please..." You finally manage to produce a real word.

""Please" what?" Josh's expression is expectant. He knows damn well what you're trying to say; he just wants to hear you say it.