Suffering from painful and embarrassing writer’s block, I set to Twitter to ask people what they wanted to read. Rather unsurprisingly, the answer was ‘porn’. But some people specifically requested a fantasy. A wise choice – there’s only so much of my own sordid sexual experience that anyone can take. So for only the second time in however-long-I’ve-been-doing-this, here’s an untrue story.
Before you start reading, be aware that this story is consensual, because it’s fantasy, but it contains elements of non-consent, because sometimes I fantasise about that. It does not mean that you should go and do stuff with people without their consent, nor that I would actually want this fantasy to come true (for me or anyone). Obviously.
I’m in a car, on my driving test. My driving test holds a special place in my heart, and fills me with a heightened kind of terror, because it is the only exam that I have ever failed. Make of that what you will, but I’m sat in the car, and the examiner is beside me.
The examiner is old – 50, 55-ish. Tall, greying, fat. He looks at me with utter disdain – frowning at my hands as they tremble in the ten-and-two-o’clock position.
“Turn left.”
He directs me onto the main road, and I pull out behind a white truck.
“Keep going.”
I check and double-check my mirrors. Keep going. I can see him sweating ever so slightly as he looks down at his clipboard. As clearly as I know this man hates me, I know I’m going to fail.
“Turn right.” He orders me to turn off onto another road – busy, the high street. I ignore him and keep going straight, following the white truck.
“I told you to turn right.” He scribbles on his clipboard and frowns. Licks his lips, like he wants me to fail. “You stupid bitch.”
I drive further, to a road I know from my lessons. It’s quiet, secluded – there are spaces to pull over. I feel like I’m going to faint. This man, this disgusting man, this man who hates me, is looking at me with lustful rage.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He grips one of my legs with his hand, pushes my skirt upwards so he can feel the soft skin at the top of my thigh. He digs his fingernails in – cruel, superior, and demanding. “Stop the fucking car.”
“No.”
“Stop. The. Car.” He punctuates each word with a stinging slap on the inside of my leg. He sweats.
I drive a bit further – there’s a place to stop nearby. I don’t know what I want, but I know I don’t want to be driving. I know I am more scared of driving than I am of this man. As I drive, he puts his clipboard on the dashboard, looks at me with bloodshot, angry eyes and calls me a bitch. Not just a bitch – a stupid fucking bitch. He pronounces ‘stupid’ with moist lips that mean ‘dirty.’
He puts his hand in his crotch, arranging the erection that’s now pushing uncomfortably against the fabric of his jeans. He reaches one hand across and grabs one of my tits – hard. I resist the urge to squeal, and keep driving. He pushes further, working one of his hands inside my shirt and down into my bra. With his other hand he pulls the seatbelt to one side, so it’s no longer pushing on my chest.
“You’re not even stopping me, you dirty bitch. If you stopped the car I’d stop. I would.”
He wouldn’t.
He works his way further in, pinching both of my nipples in turn until they’re raw, hard and cold. He pullls my shirt open and hauls down my bra, so I’m exposed to him. He uses one hand to hold the seatbelt out of the way, and slaps one of my tits.
“Stop. The. Car.”
And again.
“Stop.” Slap “The.” Slap “Fucking.” Slap “Car.”
I stop the car. Pulling into a lay-by, I shudder with relief and turn off the engine.
“You’re a dirty little bitch.” he spits.
“You’re going to fail.” And he slaps my tits again, grinning as they jiggle. His cock is pushing harder now, at the crotch of his jeans. I reach over to touch it and he slaps my hand away. He undoes his seatbelt, leans over to take one of my nipples in his mouth. He sucks and slurps, and I’m disgusted by his moaning. I sit with my arms rigid at my sides, my eyes closed – I imagine that he’s not so disgusting. That he’s not really doing this. That this isn’t making my cunt throb and my knickers wet with shameful need.
He grunts as he releases his thick cock from his jeans, gripping it tight with one hand and rubbing it in slow, hard strokes.
After a couple of minutes of grunting and fumbling, with his spit dripping off one of my nipples, he stops. The examiner gets out of the car and strides around to my side.
“Get the fuck out.” I undo my seatbelt and he grabs my hair, dragging me out of the car and forcing me round to the front. With one hand gripped tight around my stomach, he uses the other to force my shoulders down, to bend me over the bonnet.
“I’m going to fuck you nice and hard, now, you stupid bitch.” And I can feel his cock pushing at the fabric of my skirt.
“Put your hands on the bonnet and don’t move them.” I do as I’m told. He lifts my skirt, and pulls the crotch of my knickers to one side. As he forces the tip of his cock up against my cunt he moans.
“Oh you’re so fucking wet. You dirty girl. You want this, don’t you?” I don’t reply. He slaps me, hard, round the back of the head, then pushes my face down so it’s squashed onto the bonnet.
And he forces his dick into me with a grunt.
“Oh yes. That’s it. That’s it. You filthy girl.” I can feel his cock filling me all the way up – hard and angry and dirty and hot. He grips my hips as he thrusts harder, faster, each stroke like a punishment.
“You love this, don’t you? That’s why you stopped the car. Oh. You. Dirty. Bitch.” And with each word, a stroke. With each word he slams his dick home harder, until all I can feel is his cock filling my cunt, his fingers digging deep into my hips, and the cool metal of the car bonnet against my tits.
“I’m going to come inside you. Do you hear me? I… fuck.” He’s close now, fucking me harder, getting crueller with each stroke he moves closer to climax. But he tells me no, he says he won’t come in me – I’m too dirty. I don’t deserve it. After what feels like an age of lustful grunting, he pulls his cock out of me, and slaps my arse once, twice, three times nice and hard.
And as he slaps me hard with one hand he uses the other to hold me down onto the bonnet, then pushes his dick right up against my ass. With a final push and a grunt, his cock slips inside me – tight, painful – and he shoots jets of spunk hot and deep inside me.
With his cock still twitching out the final few spurts of orgasm, he pulls back my hair, twists my head to one side and spits – hard – straight into my face.
“Bitch.”
_____
For those who have asked me what I think about when I masturbate, the answer is: very often, this.
26 Comments
That’s tonight’s entertainment sorted then… *wanders off to bed early*
I dont know what angers me the most. The fact that youre a woman celebrating misogyny and male violence against women or the fact that you happily give a message to all rapists to take home from this is that it’s ok – its what women want, really.
Do you feel no social responsibility to other women?
I don’t know what angers me the most. That you have made a judgment like this despite the fact that I have very clearly stated in the post that this is a) a fantasy and b) a personal one, or the fact that you’re effectively telling me I cannot possibly write about desires that don’t happen to conform to your own.
For the record, this is not even a story about rape, this is a story about something happening that I feel dirty for wanting. But make no mistake – I want it. Had I not wanted it, not only would that have been fucking clear in the text, but I also wouldn’t have opened it by calling it a ‘fantasy’ or closed by saying I masturbate to it.
If any rapist reads this and thinks that it makes rape OK then they are a fucking idiot who could have taken that message from almost anything. Yes, I do feel responsible for the things that I write, but at no point have I ever published anything that I feel is even close to inducing people to rape. You’ve read things here that aren’t there.
No wonder people find it so difficult to talk about sex.
Was I initially slightly shocked by the content. Yes. Do I think you are condoning rape in any way shape or form. No.
As a girl who is only just realising some of my own, some may say, slightly darker fantasies, I say good on you for writing this piece and letting people know not everyone fantasises and masturbates to what is socially acceptable. Might I suggest if you want romance and flowers fiction,buy a Mills and Boon book from any decent bookshop, and stay away from a real persons blog.
I really love your response to MissSarahCuntFace :)
And I came to your story. Twice. I feel so dirty and ashamed and that makes me feel good, because it gives reason for more punishment! Yay! :D
ZombieXEyez
*Fantasy*
Clearly labeled as such.
IMHO this promotes masogony to the same degree bdsm material promotes GBH.
Any future rapist drawing generalisations about women’s desires, or that a fantasy like this is a desirable reality, is too dumb to become a driving instructor (or read the post and thus can’t possibly exist).
Seriously though, I can see it used as an after the fact justification (a false one at that), but I can’t honestly believe rape happens because the soon to be rapist was just trying to make their victom’s day. Why? Because no means no.
“No means no”, (or “no means no unless explicitly stated otherwise”) is fairly solid catch all.
Anyway, that’s my 2¢.
Sarah… where do you want me to start… First, if you wanted a propah, feminist manifesto, porn is bad, omg women have to be liberated (from their own desires) I suggest you go to two places. The Guardian and I don’t know… Saudi Arabia.
Secondly… It’s a fucking fantasy. It’s in someone’s head. Some people fantasise about farting in their boss’s face and resigning on the spot. Doesn’t mean they do it and if they did and it was consensual – it’s their choice dear. Democracy, liberal approach, inni’t? Thirdly, I have recently written a fantasy so fucking filthy I was actually taken aback by the intensity of it and haven’t published it on my own stream of filthiness that is my blog. Gang rape. Sounds terrible? Well, I wanked 15 times over it and had a jolly good time. Because it was in my head. And you can’t censor that. So, doll, get that sand out of your vagina and realise that it’s not Orwelian 1984 and people have right to have a fantasies as dirty and disagreeable as they fucking wish. There, I’ve said it.
GOTN – I salute you as always. Hot as fuck. x
Possible idea for a future post: attitudes to sex and sexual confidence. I was just going to suggest sexual confidence (as mine feels like a fucking tightrope that I fall from pretty fucking regularly) but in light of the post above throwing in something about attitudes to sex and how that affects sexual confidence/makes creating ones sexual identity REALLY FUCKING HARD might work too.
Just an idea. If I had any courage I’d write the damn post myself :)
Good idea – I’ll have a crack. If you have some thoughts on it that you want to add (anonymously, if you’d prefer) just drop me an email – sendmeacockpic [at] gmail [dot] com
It’s a really interesting area, and I’m always up for letting other people give readers a break from my tedious rants =)
Yes, this.
Vile. Disgusting. Filthy.
And so, so HOT!
But what I really want to know it – did you pass the test?
And I’m not getting out of bed for a while.
Not unlike my own real driving test, (apart from the sex, but the tester did demand I stop and tried to get out of the car).
Other than that; so fucking hot!!!
But then I’m a man so I would say that…..
Here’s one of mine:
The tube train rocks and sways. Rush hour. It’s full – over-full, with people crammed into every corner. Sweaty. She is sideways on, glances. Eyes meet, and meet. Too long.
Oxford Circus, people get off, more get on, doors close, the swaying starts again. Move further down please, so I do. Our bodies are touching at shoulder level, she turns away to make space.
I am pushed against her arse. She pushes back – just a bit.
Instant attention. Grind. I feel a hand at the zip. Pop.
No-one can see, we’re tightly packed. She raises herself, the skirt lifting, feel her pulling knicker fabric aside.
Wet, so wet. My cock plunges deep into her, pushed against each other as the train rocks and bucks. I feel the neck of her womb.
Green Park. Hold still, hold my breath, rigid, more people. And we’re off again.
I’m close now, I can feel her panting. Then announcement, Victoria.
I come. She pushes back as my cum smears her insides, hot, thick and sticky, coming and coming.
Sky-high pulse, cock stowed, bag securely on my shoulder, I walk onto the platform.
Well, I didn’t say it was original…
Wow! You got a tough reaction for that one.
I didn’t read anywhere in your story that you condoned rape and personally I thought it was very open and giving of you to share one of your more ‘out-there’ fantasies.
Perhaps those who were shocked should read the adult content warning that pops up on your site and click disagreed if they aren’t mature enough to separate fantasy from reality.
Keep up the good work, it got me as hard as a rock.
Thanks C
I came so hard to this and I’m not ashamed.
fail. Unless it was an electric car it wouldn’t be cool right after driving. This moment ruined the strory for me
That’s a shame. It must be really disappointing being you.
Hey there, nice story! Wow! Many women on this world aren’t like this and although I’m not a woman, I have an awakened mind of my own.
What’s your email? Please, I do wish to talk a little and get to know you a little.
Did you manage to get your driver license? Or have you always been failing the road tests in the hope
that this fantasy comes true?
Mate… mate.
I wish i got fucked not only in my driving test, lol. I got so horny when i read stories like this. Public sex make me crazy.
The truth is that if this really happened out side of a consensual fantasy role play, a woman would be too scared to enjoy it and that’s why no man must take it completely falsely as woman want rape they don’t it would be too terrifying to enjoy. But maybe if you get to know someone well they might enjoy role play games.
I’m speechless
I liked it and I’m a woman I do not see why some people were freaking the hell out. But I loved it I got so horny.
Forceful fucking has been one of my fantasies for a while now, so i loved this…
I absolutely loved this story. Trust me if I were to put my fantasies into words the world would be traumatised! I love being called a dirty bitch and spat on. I had one guy who used to make me stay rigidly still and if I moved he would stop. I swear to God it used to drive me so crazy that I was crying with begging it got me so hot! I think it was a control thing. Which is weird because in real life I am a confident, business woman. Keep writing. Don’t let those who would curtail your creativity and pleasure because of their own hang ups.