Business trip - Chapter 2 (Patreon)

Part 2

The message came in the middle of the afternoon. I was sitting on the edge of the bed answering work emails when my phone lit up.

Ryan: Tonight you’re Melissa.

Ryan: You say no. You keep saying no.

Ryan: You don’t make it easy for me.

Ryan: Fight me. Tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t want it in the ass.

Ryan: I’ll take it anyway.

Ryan: Door unlocked at 10.

I read the messages three times. My mouth went dry. I typed back only one word:

David: Okay.

That evening I took my time getting ready. I shaved my hole bead. I cleaned myself thoroughly. Then I put on the black lace thong and the matching bralette, adjusted the long blonde wig in the mirror, and stared at the stranger looking back at me. With the hair and the lingerie I didn’t look like David anymore. I looked like someone Ryan could pretend was someone else.

I left the door unlocked, turned the lights down low, and waited on the bed.

A little after ten I heard running shoes in the hallway. The door handle turned without a knock.

Ryan stepped inside still breathing hard from his run. Dark t-shirt stuck to his chest with sweat. Black running shorts. The smell of heat and effort came in with him. His eyes went straight to me — blonde wig, black lace, sitting on the edge of the bed — and something hard settled in his face.

“Melissa,” he said.

I stayed in character.

“Ryan… what are you doing here?” My voice came out smaller than usual. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

He closed the door and locked it. “Shut up.”

“I’m serious. You need to leave. I’m not doing this with you.”

He walked toward the bed. I stood up and took a step back, holding one hand out like I could actually stop him.

“I mean it. Don’t touch me. I don’t want this.”

Ryan grabbed my wrist and pulled me 

forward hard enough that I lost my balance. I tried to twist away. He used his weight to push me down onto the mattress on my back and pinned both of my wrists above my head with one hand. His body was heavy, sweaty and still warm from the run.

“Ryan, stop—get off me—”

He forced my legs apart with his knee and looked down at me with a flat, angry expression.

“Almost a month of listening to you say no. So tonight I’m taking what’s mine .”

“Don’t,” I said, shaking my head under the blonde wig. “I’m not doing anal with you. I don’t want it. Stop.”

He ignored me. He shoved two fingers into my mouth, pressing down on my tongue until I gagged, then replaced them with his cock. He pushed straight into my throat without warning. I made a choked sound around him and tried to turn my head. He held my jaw and started fucking my mouth in short, deep strokes, cutting off my air every time he pushed in too far.

I kept trying to push at his hips and thighs. He just leaned more weight onto me until my arms were trapped. Spit ran down my chin and over the lace of the bralette. The wet, choking sounds filled the quiet room. His cock and balls were all sweaty and musky.

When he finally pulled out I coughed hard, strings of saliva connecting my lips to his cock.

“Ryan, please—don’t do this—”

He flipped me onto my stomach with almost no effort. One forearm came down across my upper back, pinning me to the mattress. His other hand yanked the thong aside. I clenched and tried to crawl forward on my elbows.

“No—not in my ass—Ryan, stop—”

He spat once and pushed the thick head of his cock against my hole.

“I said stop—”

He pushed in anyway. The stretch was brutal. He didn’t stop halfway. He forced every inch inside me in one continuous thrust until his hips were flush against my ass and a broken sound tore out of my throat. My body tried to reject him. He held me down and started fucking.

“Fucking take it,” he growled against the back of my neck. “Since Melissa won’t give me her ass, I’ll use yours.”

I kept shaking my head under the blonde wig, voice cracking.

“It hurts—pull out—Ryan, please—”

He didn’t pull out. He fucked me harder. The wet slap of skin on skin was loud in the room. Every thrust forced the air from my lungs. I tried to push up on my hands and he shoved me back down, forearm heavy across my shoulders. The wig fell half across my face. I could barely breathe.

“You can say no all you want, Melissa,” he snarled. “I’m still finishing in this hole.”

He drove into me with short, vicious strokes, using me exactly like something he was angry at. My own cock stayed trapped against the mattress, hard and ignored — he never once reached for it. He only cared about the ass he was taking.

I kept giving him the resistance he had asked for — small broken protests, trying to twist away, telling him to stop — while my body clenched around him with every rough thrust. The contradiction only seemed to feed whatever had taken over him.

Ryan’s breathing turned harsh and uneven. His rhythm started to fall apart. He buried himself as deep as he could and came with a low, animal sound, cock pulsing hard as he flooded my hole. He kept thrusting through it, forcing every spurt deeper, until he finally stilled on top of me, breathing ragged against my neck.

For several long seconds neither of us moved.

Then he pulled out slowly. Ryan stayed kneeling behind me for a moment, one hand still resting heavily on my lower back, before he stood and pulled his running shorts back up.

I remained face-down on the bed, blonde hair sticking to my damp cheeks, hole open and dripping. I didn’t turn to look at him.

Ryan’s voice came out rough and flat when he finally spoke.

“Door unlocked tomorrow night. Same rules. You keep saying no.”

He left without waiting for an answer.

I stayed where I was, the taste of him still in my throat and the heat of his cum still leaking out of me, already knowing I would leave the door unlocked again. I was hard as fuck and I would memories to jerk off for the rest of my life.

All characters are consenting adults (18+). All sexual acts depicted are consensual between the characters.