The fan, set on high, pierced her with what seemed to be
cool air. The fact was, however, that she was sticky with sweat; her long, dark
brown hair clung feverishly to her forehead in curls that were not usually
there.



It was an unusually warm day, even for June. Naminay despised the heat, and in
an effort to cool down her basement suite, all of the windows were open. Her
black cat, Samantha, lay in a lazy heap on the mattress in the corner of the
room.



Nam
flopped onto the couch with a Diet Pepsi and turned on the television. She had
recently graduated from college and quit her job at Starbucks. She didn't
really fit in there anyway-- she hated having to keep her makeup to a minimum
in an effort to be just another corporate clone that slaved for the rich.



For a few minutes, the 22-year-old flipped distractedly through the channels,
searching for anything to occupy her mind. She needed to think of something
other than the heat.



Finally she jumped off the couch, licking her lips which were swollen from the
heat. She tore off her white tank top and her baggy black pants and threw them
in the corner, leaving only a lacy black D-sized bra, black boy-styled briefs,
and a cross-laden silver necklace in their stead.



"That's better," She sighed, throwing a quick and pitying glance over
at Samantha. The poor thing wouldn't be able to shed her clothes...



***



He was standing outside of her window, holding a hose and spraying the flowers.
His mouth opened in surprise as he watched Naminay dispose of her outfit, and
he felt himself blush just a little.



Barry was the landlord of the house and occupied the upstairs with his wife and
seven-year-old boy. This was not the first time he noticed his young tenant
through her window. And it definitely was not the first time he felt himself
getting hard because of her, either.



Barry was a handsome man, and a well-known one at that. He taught high school
sciences at the local comp, and being a small town, everyone knew who he was.



So the thoughts that he was having about the young lady in his basement could
not surface, not ever.



It was so irresistible, however, not to imagine the touch of Naminay. He longed
to touch her lengthy, dark brown hair. Since the moment he met the young
student, her large, green eyes would not leave his mind. Even with her dark,
gothic makeup, something he had never imagined he would enjoy, she was
beautiful.



He often fantasized about what it would be like. She enjoyed sex, she had to
have. No girl who wore that amount of dark eye liner was a virgin. He would
walk downstairs, and knock lightly on the door. She would open, and embrace him
with a kiss, and lead him to her pathetic little mattress in the corner while
tearing off his clothes...



Barry let out a little moan as he watched her walk back to her couch. The small
of her back was glistening with sweat and made way to a perfect little ass. She
was athletic, but not grossly so.



She sat down cross-legged on the cushion. He had seen her do this before. It
was just one of the many things that attracted him to her-- so youthful, so
ignorant. This time, however, she was not wearing any clothes.



He could see some wetness between her legs. More sweat. It should have been
unattractive, but it wasn't. He imagined her wet with other juices-- her own...
his...



He shook his head and turned away. What he was doing wasn't right, and it was
definitely grounds for some sort of harassment. His wife and son weren't home,
he could easily go jerk off in the bedroom and forget all about her.



For a few minutes, anyway.



Wait a second... his wife and son wasn't home.



That, in itself, was a rare occasion. The two, however, were staying overnight
at his wife's parents', two houses over.



How long had he peeked into Naminay's window, just waiting for the chance to
get down into her room? It wouldn't hurt to say hi, to check up on her. See how
things were going. Apologize for the lack of air conditioning, perhaps?



Not that he regretted that, he though, letting out a quiet chuckle.



Barry took a deep breath and made his way down the steps to Naminay's private
entrance. He swallowed, brushed his sandy hair out of his eyes, and knocked.



***



Naminay frowned in confusion. She didn't have many friends, so a knock at the
door was not what she was expecting.



"Just a sec!" She shouted at the door, looking at the clothes she had
thrown haphazardly on the floor. She hesitated, then ran to the closet,
choosing a silky black robe to put on instead.



She pulled her hair out of the collar of the robe and walked to the door. She
opened it, with the lock still on.



Her landlord stood on the other side, his face flushed from what she assumed
was the heat. "Oh hey," She said, unlatching the lock. "Come on
in."



He flashed her a grin, and stepped inside. "How are you?" Barry
asked, in a quiet voice.



"Pretty good," she smiled, wandering over to the fridge. "Want a
pop?"



"Sure."



Naminay grabbed another Diet Pepsi and watched out of the corner of her eye as
Barry sauntered a little further into the room. She had seen him around the
yard quite often, barbequing and whatnot. He was quite good-looking, she
decided.



She walked over to hand him the soda. " So what brings you down to my
dungeon?" She asked with a laugh.



Barry took the Pepsi from her hand and didn't say a word. He froze for a
moment, in lust, in confusion, and for some reason, anger.



"What's wrong?" Naminay asked, confused.



Suddenly, he threw the soda onto the couch and grabbed a hold of her wrist.
Naminay gasped, attempting to step backwards. Instead, he yanked her closer.



"What are you doing?!" Naminay exclaimed, in utter disbelief.



He grabbed her throat with his other hand, pulling her close to him. He kissed
her roughly on her swollen red lips, his eyes closing, relishing.



"Stop!" She squeaked when she got a breath. Her eyes were wide in
fear and bewilderment.



He had waited forever to see those eyes this close.



"No." He said, his grip on her wrist and throat not loosening.
Instead, he began to force her over to the mattress, causing her to trip and
stumble the whole way.



"What are you doing?" She cried again, her eyes welling up with
tears.



He didn't bother to reply. He didn't know himself. He had dreamed of doing this
before. Mostly to his wife, the cold-hearted bitch. He wanted to rape that
cunt.



He wanted to rape this one.



After nudging the cat out of the way with his toe, he threw her down on the
small mattress, landing on top of her. He grabbed both of her wrists and held
them above her head, pressing his pelvis into between her legs. He knew he was
being rough.



He didn't care.



"I'll scream..." She whispered, choking on her own voice.



"No you won't." He growled, adjusting his grip so that he held both
of her wrists with one hand.



"I'll tell..." She said, after some hesitation.



He couldn't help but grin. "No one will believe you. So shut up."



Barry pulled apart her robe and grabbed one of her perfectly-shaped breasts
with his hand. He squeezed it, hard. So hard that she squeaked in pain.



He kissed her roughly again, then moved his lips over her neck. He licked, and
then he bit.



Naminay cried out.



"Shut up..." He growled, warningly.



"Please..." She begged, openly crying now. "I'll give you
whatever you want..."



He paused what he was doing, and pulled up a little to look her in the eyes.



"This is what I fucking want."



He grabbed her bra at the middle and thrust it up, revealing her large tits.
Swiftly he bit down on one of her nipples, flicking it with his tongue. Smiling
at her cries.



He reached down and fingered her through her underwear, enjoying the wetness
that had long soaked through. He didn't have patience, though. He ripped them
off, and thrust two fingers into her pussy, hardly noticing the fact that she
was well trimmed.



"NO!" She exclaimed, but he bit down harder on her nipple, forcing
her to quiet.



He roughly jabbed his fingers in and out, in and out, acquiring lubrication. He
lifted his head up to see her face, her reaction.



Tears spilled over the corner of her eyes, and Naminay was biting her lip in pain
and restraint.



Barry shifted, sitting on her stomach. Awkwardly he undid his belt and his
zipper, lowering his jeans and underwear only enough to expose his penis and
his ass.



Naminay's eyes widened in horror. "Oh shit, please, please no..."



It was too late. Barry shifted his weight again, regaining control of her
now-flailing hands. He lowered himself and grabbed onto her upper thigh with a
hard grip.



"Please.... please..." Naminay begged, sobbing.



Barry frowned, returning his grip to her throat. Her hands, now free, grabbed
onto his forearms, weakly trying to move them.



They would not budge.



The older man pressed the head of his penis between the lips of her vagina.
Then, watching her carefully, the thrust in with one hard, quick stroke.



She screamed.



A huge rush flooded Barry's head, and he almost came right there. Instead he
swallowed and breathed hard, gaining control over himself.



He tightened his grip on her throat, so that her cries became chokes. She could
still breathe, he wasn't harming her. Just holding her.



Quieting her.



He began pumping in and out of her.



The squish of his penis thrusting into her wet pussy filled his ears with a
noise almost louder than the pulse of his brain. Her sniffles and sobs could
not be heard by him anymore. He closed his eyes, concentrating on prolonging
the experience.



"Fuck. I- like- fucking- you-" He grunted with each push. He opened
his eyes, watching her carefully. The terror on her face, the glassiness of her
beautiful green eyes. It made him want to fuck her harder, faster.



Her grip on his forearms were becoming weaker and weaker and she stared at him
helplessly. The sides of her face and her hair was soaking in tears and sweat.



Naminay's hot pussy squeezed the sides of his shaft, a reaction, an instinct,
an attempt to push him out of her body. She could feel his full ten inches
inside of her, bursting through a barely-used vagina. It hurt, more than the
first time she had ever had sex.



He grinned at her, in what seemed to be a sinister way. He grunted with every
thrust, his knees holding up his body and his hand holding her throat.



"You fucking like this, don't you." He growled. It was more of a
demand, than a question.



He pulled out of her, pausing for a moment, resting the swollen head of his
dick against her pussy lips.



He watched her, and felt guilty at the sense of hope that seemed to come over
her face. He smiled once more, however, and quickly pushed himself back in.



She cried out once more. Naminay closed her eyes, slowly giving up her
struggles.



This time, Barry lowered herself so that he lay flat on top of her. He
propelled himself in and out even faster than before, his bare ass raising and
lowering so quickly it almost blurred.



His jeans chaffed at the inside of her legs, but she tried to ignore it, tried
to ignore the feeling of his large dick inside of her.



Her nipples were swollen and perky, and he couldn't help but take the chance to
clamp down on one of them once more. She let out a small squeak, and quieted
down again.



He held her nipple with his front teeth, as he fucked her, in and out, fast.
His tongue flicked over her nipple a couple times, and then he sucked it.



He did this back and forth, several times.



It was then that he could feel himself begin to cum.



He got back on his knees again, slowing his pace, but making it harder.
"You -fucking-like it-" He grunted.



"You-fucking-slut-"



It was at this last moment he shut his eyes, coming with one last, loud grunt.
He felt himself shoot inside of her, and fucked her harder and harder as he
expelled his juice.



Naminay gasped, feeling herself fill up. A million thoughts came to her mind--
what if she got pregnant? What if he hurt her?



What if he was going to kill her?!



He thrust two more times, and then collapsed on top of her with a sigh. His
hand fell from her neck, and she lay there beneath him, frightened, confused.



After what seemed to be an eternity, he lifted his head up. Without looking at
her, he pulled out, and pushed himself up with his hands. He pulled up his
pants, and did up his belt and his zipper.



Barry headed for the door, throwing one last glance at the girl behind him.
There she lay, red and crying, completely slumped into the mattress as if with
no energy. The blankets, which had been bunched up with their movements, looked
as if to swallow her.



Her large green eyes stared at him in fear, in loathe. She was shaking and
sweating, but did not move.



"Don't you fucking tell," He said.



And with that, he was gone.

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