We had broken up and it was over. At least I thought it was…

We had broken up and it was over. At least I thought it was over. The calls from Darryl had stopped and I was starting to think that this time it was really the end. He’d ended things before, but he could never stay away for long. He always came back and tried to win me back. 

“I want to rape you sometime,” he had said back when we were together. We had talked about the rape fantasies I’d been having and it seemed like he was ready to try it with me. But that was before we broke up. Now, I was left with confusion and disbelief. I hadn’t thought there was anything wrong with our relationship. I had been having fun, but something about what he wanted to do to me, about what I brought out in him made him cautious. I knew it was the rape fantasy thing. I just knew it. But it was over and I tried my best to move on. 

A week after our breakup I was home alone unpacking my groceries. I had just put them all away when I thought I heard something strange. 

“Hello?” I called. “Hello?” There was nothing. 

Then suddenly, there was Darryl. He tackled me to the ground and there was a struggle. 

“I thought we broke up!” I screamed

“I need you. Please,” he begged me. I could see that he was aroused, his cock was standing at attention inside of his pants. There was a part of me that still wanted him, but a part that wanted to push him away. I fought him, not realizing that this was my rape fantasy come to life. I pushed and clawed at him and he pressed himself down onto my body, letting me fight until I tired myself out. 

He had my clothes off and he pushed his cock inside of me from behind. The whole weight of his body was on top of me. I should have screamed or fought, but once his cock was inside of me I realized how much I missed him, how much I still needed him. He had no way of knowing how much I was enjoying being raped on the living room rug of my house. He had no way of knowing that his cock was making me cum even harder than I’d ever cum while we were together. 

This Darryl who was raping me was hotter, sexier. I wanted a guy like him to take me and rape me all the time. That’s when I remembered again that we weren’t together anymore, that this may be the last time I ever felt Darryl inside of me. I tried to savor my rape, to savor what he was doing to me so I would always remember it. I came for him then, screaming loudly as he pushed my face into the rug to muffle my cries. The sheer force of his cock in my pussy was something I’ll always remember, the way it felt to be completely and totally used. 

I’d always wanted to be taken, to be raped the way Darryl was raping me then, fucking me into the rug with hard, deep thrusts. I came again and again for him as he roughly used me in ways he’d never been able to when we were together. 

“You’re worthless,” he said and I heard his grunts as he came deep inside of my pussy. I felt so used, so wrecked as he let me go and put his clothing back on. I remained in a heap on the floor, crying. I didn’t know why I was crying. Maybe it was because I had been raped. Maybe it was because I knew I might not ever see Darryl again after this. Maybe it was because I was ashamed that this had turned me on. Darryl said nothing, not even good-bye as he made his way to the front door and let himself out. 

I remained on the rug, crying for some time after that. I lay there, thinking of what had just happened. It had been the hottest thing that had ever happened to me. I wanted to tell someone, but there was no one to tell. I wanted to call Darryl and thank him, but we were broken up. Would calling him seem desperate? I didn’t know. So instead, I reached my fingers down to my pussy and I relived the whole scene in my mind, rubbing my pussy until I came again and again. 

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