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Powerless to Resist

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Hi, this is just a one-shot. I hope it’s an entertaining scene/scenario, although it’s probably totally unrealistic. But that’s the beauty of fantasy… enjoy, and please rate and review, I love all the feedback I get, good or bad!


It was the worst during the warm nights. I had stopped wearing shorts all together; I needed the quick access that came with a skirt. I tried going without any panties for a few days, but that only made things worse. It was as if my mind would recess, the only feelings left were my aching throbs between my thighs, and my wild, lustful imagination. I guess that was a plus, I had a vivid and dirty enough mind to imagine new sexual scenarios every time my urge overcame me. And it was becoming at least four times a day.

And this evening was no different. 5 minutes ago, I rushed away from the dinner table, leaving my 5 other family members confused, as I dashed off without a word. Now I was on my back, on my carpeted floor. I didn’t even make it to the bed. Both my hands were between my legs, petting and softly fingering my dripping pussy. Moments later, it wasn’t enough, and I dug under the bed for my pink vibrator, who had been getting a lot of action lately. A little too hastily, I pressed it deep inside my wet opening. I gasped silently, my entire core being shaken by the small plastic toy’s vibrations.

Yes, it was coming, I knew the feeling so well. My jaw hung slack, and my eyes started to roll back. I stuck two wet fingers in my mouth, sucked on them, and seconds later, I clapped my hand over my mouth, suppressing the long, guttural moan that came out of me. I convulsed, and came hard, wave after wave of pleasure racking my body. Yes, oh god yes, this release was fantastic. The relief I feel after is almost as good as the orgasm itself.

And then the shame. Again, for the umpteenth time, I had been hopelessly turned on, for no apparent reason, and I fulfilled my carnal desires without a moment’s hesitation. My mother’s voice rang from down the hall.

“Jen, are you ok honey?”

Good lord, I don’t know how everyone, even my younger sister, couldn’t put together what had been going on with me. I needed my own place, to save their embarrassment as well as my own.

Ok, backing up a little: I’m Jenny, I’m 19, a freshman in college, but I still live with my parents. My oldest brother, Eric, is married, got a good job, and he seems to be pretty happy. Joseph, two years older than me, lives at home too, but works for the railroad, and he’s home for a day, and gone for two. Patricia is my younger sister; she’s 16, still in high school. I’m really jealous of my siblings’ looks, both my brothers are pretty studly, and tall. Patricia already has a better chest than me, and between her cheerleading and volleyball, she’s probably got the whole school swooning.

I won’t sell myself short, I think I’m rather pretty, with long, straight brown hair. I’ve never been athletic, but I have a very thin build. Not much of a chest or butt to speak of, but I try not to be too self-conscious about it all. I’ve only had one serious boyfriend and one summer fling after that. I have almost no boy experience, yet I crave sex every day. It’s a problem.

My mom gave two courtesy knocks, before opening the door herself. Quickly, I kicked the door back (I hope I didn’t hurt her!), and tossed my vibrator into a pile of laundry.

“Jen, what’s going on? Are you ok?” my mom sounded panicked.

“Uh, yea, sorry, I’m just changing, my clothes were just really uncomfortable,” I lied.

Jeez, could that woman ever just knock? So I had to change now, although I’d perspired quite a bit, and I couldn’t very well join my family again smelling like I’d got my rocks off.

I really felt out of control. Since about 2 months ago, I’ve had no willpower to suppress my lustful urges that come over me. I feel like something’s wrong with my brain, I’ve never heard of anyone needing it this bad. Well, I’ve never really talked with anyone about it either, but how do you approach someone about it? Do I tell my doctor I have to cum every few hours, just to say sane? Do I get a boyfriend that likes it as much as I do? Should I get more than one boyfriend? Am I supposed to become a pornstar?

I laughed to myself, all those options were ridiculous. Well, maybe not the one boyfriend. But I get so shy… how do I find a nice, charming, caring guy that will also fuck my brains out, and can be on call to do so? I remembered back to Joey, who I dated in high school. We were steady for a little over a year, and I didn’t lose my virginity until the winter dance. He was never pushy, which was nice, and we screwed every once in a while. Then we graduated, and he moved away. I was sad, but knew I needed to expand my world.

Then there was Jayden. He and I never really talked in school. He was a little bit of a bad boy, but he really worked on his body the last year. I was shocked when the pasty little kid I first met had turned into a manly hunk with unruly hair. I smiled to myself thinking about it. We had been at a big grad party, bonfire, and he sat next to me. After a couple minutes, we were finally forced to talk. We talked about nothing, he casually asked me if I was 18 yet, (yes!) and I have no idea why he took his shirt off, but the effect was not lost on me. He read me well, and without another word, he stood up, offered his hand to me. We were inside, and as soon as we were out of sight, his lips were on mine, roughly mashing and pressing against my lips. It didn’t take long for me to open up and let his tongue in, and 2 minutes later, I was locking my legs around him, as he struggled to carry me and find a bed upstairs.

He was a much more powerful, rough lover than I what had with Joey. It was weird though, when we finished, he just rolled off, started putting his jeans on. I had to find him an hour later. No words, just my number, and a winky face. I was glad when he called the next night, and we hooked up a lot, and it was great, it was hot. And then one day, he sent a simple text, that read, “thx for all the fun, I’m gonna move on tho.” Well that was over as quick as it began.

I wasn’t too bent out of shape about it. He wasn’t boyfriend material, but what I didn’t realize was the uncontrollable urge he released in me. I was happy to be singe for a couple weeks. Then I was unhappy. Then, I started to really discover how much I could stimulate myself; it seemed that my hands were under my panties every night, a ritual before bed. And then, that wasn’t enough, so I donned a hat, sunglasses, and drove an hour to a sex shop. I bought my first toy quickly, paid cash, and left with my head down. I could barely contain myself, and I thought about opening up the dildo and burying it inside me for the long drive back home.

Three weeks later, I was back at the same sex shop, and thankfully no one recognized me. I took my time this time; I went through all the toys, all the props. A short time later, I was out of there with another, textured dildo, and my trusty pink vibrator. I hadn’t talked to anyone about it, but I figured that some other girls must have indulged the same purchases that I did.

I opened my “naughty drawer”, putting Pink back, and touching all three toys lovingly, and covering them up again with a spare pillowcase. God, I was such a closet freak. I’m pretty sure all my friends thought I was uninterested in sex, but it was just the opposite. I didn’t have it in me to be a complete slut, and let guys take advantage of me. Well, not yet anyway.

Still, I finally reached the point where I needed another guy. Honestly, I didn’t care too much about another relationship; I just wanted a reliable booty call, as dirty as that makes me sound. So I started making a few changes: instead of wearing sneakers all the time, I tried out sandals, flats, other, more flattering shoes. I chose shorter skirts, and modified a few tanks to show some midriff. Not too much right?

Of course, my mom noticed, but I chalked it up to the weather being much warmer. She would give me an “I-know-what-you’re-really-up-to” look, but hey, I was an adult now. My best friend, Carrie, let me know about a party: bonfire, drinks, boys, the whole works. I disliked having to make myself up, but tonight was going to be worth it. I combed my way through my entire wardrobe, until I found a sundress I really liked. I did my makeup, and spent another 5 minutes or so teasing my hair until it fell just right.

It was time to go. I grabbed my purse, and left the house for the bus stop. While it was comfortable out tonight, I still wish my parents would let me take the car. But… if all went according to plan, I would be able to arrange a ride back the next morning. I smirked to myself; I was totally honest with myself what the goal was tonight. I wanted to find a nice boy, and I wanted to get laid.

Bus number 47 came a few minutes later, and I strode in, paid, and made my way to a window seat near the back. The ride usually takes about 15 minutes, so I got comfortable. The next stop, there were a lot of people that got on, a busy Friday night! I scooted over a little more when a man moved to sit next to me. I looked him over briefly: he was 30, tall, mature but still an attractive guy. He nodded at me, but we didn’t exchange a word. His khaki’s were tight against his legs, and I glanced down, and I could see the outline of his cock! It must have been big, because it was a few inches long, while still soft.

Oh no. Not now, not here…

This was bad, I had cum about an hour ago, and now I was feeling the urge again. And it was strong; I could almost hear my pussy crying out for attention. It ached, and the seconds ticked by like torture. I’m sure I was red in the face, so I tried to just stare out the window. But then it turned into a daydream, where this strange man reached between my legs, and started to expertly finger my wet pussy.

Oh god, this was difficult. I grabbed the edge my dress firmly, pulling it tight against me. I’m not sure if it was hurting or helping, but the only thing I could focus on was the incessant throb between my thighs. I shot a quick glance at the man sitting next to me, oh why couldn’t I just leave for fantasy land, and he would violate me in every way. I leaned my head back, I tried to block out everything, but the only thing I could focus on was getting stimulation.

And then, all of a sudden, it felt like I was actually being touched. My fantasies were vivid, but never this real, this intense. It felt good though, and for a few seconds, I let ragged breaths escape my lips, enjoying the weird sensation. I opened my eyes; I wanted to check, make sure no one knew what I was up to. I glanced sideways, the man was still facing straight ahead, but wait, his arm was crossed over me…

I looked down, amid staggered gasps, and saw his hand in my lap, underneath my sundress, and pressing against my panty-covered pussy, rubbing it. I was being touched by a total stranger, I had to scream! This is so wrong! No sound came out of my mouth though. How on earth could he be so bold as to start rubbing a random younger girl’s sex? I grabbed his wrist hard, and his head snapped around, but he firmly held his hand there. His eyes held my gaze, they were blank, reading my face, whereas I was a mess, my eyes glazed over with lust, and my mouth slack and open; I was almost hyperventilating.

‘Pull him off! Get out of there!’ my mind was yelling at me, but as seconds ticked by, I was becoming a slave to my body’s pleasure, a slave to this strange man’s fingers. I felt him shift; still holding on to his wrist, he slipped underneath my panties, pressing into my wet pussy with his finger directly. I arched my back involuntarily, my subconscious willing him further inside me for more pleasure. Could anyone see us? I was a mix of emotion. Part of me wanted this to stop, and stop now, and have someone take this man away from me. The other half was completely ready to give in, let him have his way with me, regardless of the consequences. And that half was winning.

He started moving faster, pushing deeper into my dripping wet opening, and began to bend his wrist in, finger-fucking me, even though he barely moved. Somewhere, my mind registered that I had spread my legs wider, allowing more access. The gravity of the situation started to dawn on me, I was surrounded by people, on a public bus, and the man next to me was at second base. His ministrations sped up, and I started shaking, I was close to orgasm. I was sure the “shlick shlick” of his fingers in my sopping wet pussy would be audible to everyone. Oh god I was so close, I squeezed his wrist tightly, and he thrust in an out at a frenzied pace.

I whispered a husky, “Yes,” and I came hard, right there in the plastic bus seat, tiny bubbles of pleasure exploded in my head, and I was lost in euphoria. My chest was rising high, as I slumped back a little in my seat. I started to come down from my hazy, lust-crazed state of mine, when he slipped his two fingers out of me, and brought them up to my mouth.

“Suck,” he said simply.

He pushed his stick cum covered fingers against my lips, and with little resistance they were inside my mouth. I obliged, too overwhelmed to do anything other than what I was told. After a few seconds of sucking on his fingers, the bus came to a stop. As he stood up, he gave my boob a rough squeeze, and without another word he was gone. I was left alone to work out what had just happened to me.

I felt enormous shame, inside me like a knife. I looked around nervously; there was still quite a few people sitting, standing around. How we were sitting must have blocked it from every one’s view, no one was looking at me, but I was paranoid that they all knew. Knew that I was hopeless, pitiful, horny girl that had just allowed a man to molest her in an open, public place. I enjoyed it too, I needed it. It could’ve been a old man, a woman, or the fucking Easter Bunny and I would’ve let them do what he did to me.

Thankfully, my stop was the next one. A minute later, I was off, it was just a few short blocks to the girl’s house who was throwing the party. I was not feeling like the boy-chaser I set out to be an hour ago, but a drink or two and a best friend sounded like enough to take my mind off of things. As I got closer, I could hear the bustle, and the see the flickering orange light of the fire.

It didn’t take long for me to find Carrie, and 15 minutes later, I had a drink in me, and I was laughing, and enjoying myself. I’d almost started to forget about the bus ride over. We joked, sat around for most of the evening.

“Carrie, you and Rob are getting serious, you said you guys were done after high school!” one of the girls said.

“Well what can I say? He’s a stud, he’s got money, and he’s an ok guy. Why shouldn’t I hang on to him?” she replied.

I chimed in, “Well he’s the only guy you’ve ever dated, don’t you worry you’re not, you know, getting out there?”

“It’s not like I’m 30. I have time to explore.”

“Haha, and she’s not talking about exploring nature!” another girl teased.

“Well, exploring some very natural things,” Carrie chided back.

We burst into laughter; our conversations would rarely be anything but raunchy. It was just more fun to talk about, and poke fun at the others. I envied Carrie at times, she was naturally headstrong, a leader, a good friend. Everyone liked her, and she was always surrounded by people. I know she didn’t try too hard, but her looks, her personality, her humor were plenty to make anyone charmed by this woman.

Rob joined us, a couple of his guy friends making small talk with the rest of us girls. We would get quiet at times, just staring into the flames as we sat around the fire. There was one drunken brawl on the lawn, but that was it for excitement. Well, violent excitement anyway. The bonfire started dying, and I noticed a few couples making there way from the party. There were a couple more people that paired up, it was interesting to watch. First it was lap sitting, then petting, then making out, and as I saw couples leaving the ring, the next step wasn’t too hard to figure out.

Carrie had left with her boyfriend, and suddenly, I felt very single, very alone. I got up, and did what anyone does when they feel awkward at party: go to the bathroom. I started feeling worse as I moved farther away from people, I had come here to not be alone, but after the bus ride, I was feeling confused, and conflicted. I closed the bathroom door behind me, staring in the mirror. I dumped the drink from my cup, filled it with water and drank it quickly. I looked at my phone, it was just past midnight. I sat on the closed toilet seat, just staring.

I started hearing sounds through the wall behind me, it was rhythmic, but I couldn’t make it out. I leaned back, an ear to the wall. I was able to make the sounds out; it was a girl moaning, a guy panting, and a very squeaky bed.

Voices could be heard through the wall, and I started to make out words.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck yes, oooooo yea you like that dirty boy?” A female voice said, obviously in the heat of the moment.

“Unnngg” was the only sounds I heard from him, besides grunting and heavy breathing. I could hear their pace, the squeaks of the bed getting faster and faster, until it slowed, (they must have changed positions,) and then started building again.

At first, I was amused, albeit a little grossed out. But I continued to listen, and I started feeling jealous. I wanted to be the one getting screwed in the other room.

Oh no.

It was here, again. I couldn’t believe it, but my powerful urge came at me like a torrential storm. I willed my body to stop reacting, I tried to convince myself that I was not getting aroused, that I was not turned on, that I was not going to need to get off, right here, right now. I bit my lip, leaned away from the wall, but I could still hear distant sounds, voices and squeaking. No, no, not right now, I’ll do it when I get home…

I was losing the mental battle, I gripped my lower thigh, but my skin had become much, much more sensitive. My body started to betray me, my thighs started sliding apart, and my hands slid further up. I knew where they were headed, but it was like I was out of control of my own limbs. My fingers gingerly brushed the outside of my panties, sending a shiver down my spine. There was no doubt that I was seriously aroused, moisture was on my fingers, coming through the fabric. I slid them down a bit. I hesitated for a minute, but then couldn’t fight the need, and I slowly began rubbing my moist lower lips.

It only took a minute before my pussy ached for more, and I slipped a couple fingers inside. Slowly, gently I began to push them in and out, first one, then two at a time, then three, stretching my inner walls as best I could. Oh god, wouldn’t one of my toys feel so good right now, or a cock. Mmm, a big, meaty, hot, hard cock…

I was getting lost in lust, my eyes were hazy, and my legs spread further and further apart. I’m not sure how, but I slipped of the seat, and landed painfully on the tile, but nothing could distract me from my goal. I need more though, I ran my other hand up my stomach, grabbing one of my boobs, squeezing and pressing it, before doing the same to the other.

Suddenly, the door was flung open. I looked up, startled, at a tall guy, stocky, with a lot of poofy, brown, curly hair, and a thick beard. I didn’t recognize him, but I hoped he didn’t know me. And he looked down at me, one hand under my dress, fondling myself and masturbating.

I was caught.

I didn’t move my hands from their precarious positions; I waited for him to react. He stood there wordless for a few seconds, and I could feel intense blush in my face. He finally spoke,

“Well, let’s get you up at least,”

I slinked my hands away from my dress, offered him my hand to help me back to my feet (the not-sticky-juice-covered hand). I looked away, but was grateful he was being kind, and he’d at least not called all his buddies to look at the helpless, horny girl.

But I was wrong, I thought he was leading me out the door, but he slammed it shut, and turned me around over the sink. Before I knew what was going on, he was on his knees, and grabbed my ass cheeks roughly, kneading them in his hands.

“You are a sexy little horny bitch, you know that,”

“No,” and “Stop,” were about to come out of my mouth, but I felt him ruthlessly press his mouth against my pussy lips. He started tonguing wildly, rapidly, while smacking my ass and grabbing my hips roughly. I tried, I tried, and I tried to resist, by calling out, and telling him to stop, but breathless noises were the only things escaping my mouth.

His foreplay was over quickly, because he stood back up, and grabbed a handful of my sundress, shoving it far up my back and exposing me. I heard a zip, some shuffling around, and then warm flesh pressing against my dripping pussy. I was thinking ‘I don’t want this’, but all that came out was a wanton moan.

“Yea that’s right slut, you want it bad don’t you…” his grisly voice taunted me with every syllable, but as much as I wanted to, I just couldn’t bring myself to turn away, to push him back, to make him stop. Seconds later, he pushed into me, slowly but continually, and I couldn’t contain my loud cry of pleasure. He moved to grip my waist, and started moving back and forth. He controlled my body too, making me meet every thrust.

As much as I hated myself, I could hardly deny such pleasure that was running though my body. My pussy sent wave after wave of good feeling through my entire frame, and I was finally feeling full again. I moaned and wailed each time he buried himself in me. He would reach up, grab my breast and squeeze a nipple, and then he’d smack my ass, before gripping me hard again.

Soon, his thrusts became erratic, and I could feel that he was about to cum. There had been no thought of protection or anything, I wasn’t on the pill! I couldn’t get pregnant. The pleasure was totally controlling my body. He began to grumble, moaning too, and he must have been right on the edge.

“ON MY BACK!” I screamed out,

Thankfully he obliged, and after a few more hard pounds into my pussy, he pulled out. I could hear him behind me, his hand must have been a blur, but a few moments later, he groaned loudly, and I felt spurts of warm goo hit my skin. To demean me even more, he wiped his cock against my ass, the backs of my thighs, using me to wipe himself off. He staggered back, taking a seat on the edge of the bathtub, but I could still feel his eyes burning into me?

Well, he was done, at least I think he was. What should I do? Should I run away screaming, crying? Should I call someone, should I just turn around and slap the guy as hard as I could? He’d given me no choice…

But I didn’t fight it in the least. And it felt good. Oh, it was short but it was feeling so good. I began to feel fingers, small fingers again touching my pussy. The contact returning to it felt so good, and seconds later, the fingers were thrusting rapidly in and out.

I opened my eyes, and to the disbelief of my last partner and myself, it was me who was mercilessly attacking my own pussy, and I was unable to do anything except wait for my release. It was fast approaching, and after just another minute, I felt myself right on the edge. With a soft scream, I pushed myself over, and I came like rolling thunder. My hot, wet juices rushed out of me, and I felt them drip down my legs, on to the floor.

My legs gave out, I held on to the porcelain skin, but dropped slowly to my knees, until I rested my forehead against the edge, breathing heavily. I heard the guy shifting behind me, getting dressed again maybe, but I didn’t even turn around.

“You are one freaky girl, I’ll give you that,” he said as he opened the door, “Thanks for the fuck! Ha ha ha ha,” his voice faded as he left the small bathroom. Oh god, I was pathetic. I enjoyed every second of him fucking me, even though I knew I should’ve stopped it. But I was powerless. I am a slave to my pussy, and was getting its way, no matter what the consequences, no matter how bad the situation was.

I took off my clothes for a minute, grabbing someone’s towel, wetting it, and trying to clean myself off a little bit. I spent a few more minutes arranging myself, before going back out.

I didn’t know how long I’d been away, but there were a lot fewer people there. I only recognized two or three girls, but none that I wanted to talk to, my friends had left, or moved from where they were, and Carrie was long gone. I didn’t want to be there anymore, the shame was building every time I caught someone’s eye. I felt like they all knew that I had been the easy slut some random guy had just taken in the bathroom, of all places.

I pulled my phone out, scrolling through the contacts twice, before I dialed my mom.

“Unnn, hello, Jen, what’s going on?” she said sleepily. “Where are you, why are you calling?”

“Hi mom…” I tried to sound composed, but I felt a tear stream down my cheek. “Um… I was at a bonfire little get together with Carrie, but she split, and I want to leave, and I don’t know anybody…”

“What, wait, what? I thought…” she was having trouble in her drowsy state.

“Will you come get me please?”

There was a pause on the other end.

“Okay honey, I’m on my way, tell me where you are.” Her voice was warmer, and I smiled to myself, grateful.

I told her the address, and I left to go stand out front by myself. Fifteen minutes later, headlights I recognized came around the corner, and I waved. My mom, still in her robe, got out, and gave me a hug.

“Are you ok honey? I’m worried, what’s going on?”

I held my hands up, slowing her down, “Mom, I’m fine. Carrie was gonna be my ride, but she left with her boyfriend. I could’ve stayed, maybe found a ride, but some people had been drinking, you know, just to be safe…”

I hoped the partial truth was enough, at least for now. She gave me a little smile, and we climbed into the car. With only a few more words and good-nights, I went up to my room, falling straight into bed. I stared at the ceiling, wondering about my problem. Was this how the rest of my life would go? If I had a career, would I duck out every couple hours to get off, or screw someone? If I was attacked, would I even have the willpower to not want it? All these thoughts mulled over my head, but eventually, I drifted off to sleep.

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