I search for his name in the back of my mind as his dick hits the back of my throat. I am sure he told me when he sat down next to me and introduced himself earlier this evening. But four drinks and a lot of dancing later, it seems to have vanished from my memory.
His hand caresses the back of my head easing himself deeper until I gag. My pussy is super wet and I’m hoping that this will go further than just a blowjob in the bathroom. But just as I am trying to think of a way to move this back to my room, he ejaculates in my mouth. I swallow his come as he pulls out, letting a thick string of semen drip from my lips and cling to my chin.
He looks down at me with a big grin.
“I’ll see ya back out there.”
He exits the bathroom quickly, leaving me kneeling on the floor in the stall.
I stand up and wash out my mouth with water from the sink. I wipe my mouth and look at myself in the mirror. My tousled hair in the mirror is hopeless at this point, and my dress has a spot of semen or saliva on it. I brush it away with a paper towel.
Tentatively, I step out of the bathroom and into the deserted hallway. I am a few minutes walk away from the far side of the hotel where the wedding reception is still going on. I check the time on my phone. 1:45 in the morning. My phone’s battery is at 4%.
I realize I’m exhausted physically and emotionally. Even if we would end up having sex later, I really do not feel up to socializing with Bradley any more tonight.
Bradley, that was his name.
Rather than returning to the reception, I decide to head up to my room. There are some activities planned with the wedding party tomorrow that I will see him at, so I do not feel the urge to pursue Bradley any further tonight. I find an elevator around the corner and press the call button. A moment later, the doors open up, and a drunk couple tumble out.
“Is this the pool?” The guy asks the girl.
“I think it’s this way.” The girl says gesturing to the left.
I happen to know that the pool is on the roof, but I would rather not have company in the elevator so I say nothing, letting them wander off on their wild goose chase.
I am already feeling good about the decision to call it a night.
I hit the floor button and take a moment to examine myself in the full length mirror on the back wall of the elevator. I consider a selfie, but then realize it would just look lonely by myself. Besides, my dress, chosen by the bride for the wedding party, hangs a little loose off my slight frame even after the alterations. I have had to pull the straps back up into my shoulders countless times tonight. The blush pink color somehow seems to only accentuate how pale I am, and and my dark brown hair, that has been dyed a blue-grey on the tips, seems to clash with it.
My makeup is the only part that I am actually happy with. It was done professionally by a woman the bride knew from college. She focused on natural colors that make my pale blue eyes pop.
The elevator doors open to the fifth floor and I head to my room, 5223.
It’s only a short walk and when I finally get in and close the door behind me I feel a sudden wave of relief that the night is over. I leave the light off, with the intent to take a shower and go to sleep. I’m still feeling a little ungratified sexually, and I try to think of something I can use in the shower to get myself off, but coming up empty, I realize my fingers might just have to do.
I start the water in the shower and leave the bathroom door open a crack, allowing just enough light in the room to move around without stubbing my toe on anything.
I strip off my dress and leave it crumpled on the floor. I unclip my bra behind my back and toss it onto the bed. I stretch my back and rub my small, perky breasts with my hands. It feels good to have them out after a long day. One hand finds its way down my flat stomach. My fingers slip under my panties and I gently rub my clit. Letting myself imagine a man having his way with me.
Standing in the middle of the room I let my eyes begin to close as I run the fingers of my other hand through my hair, breathing deeply.
For a split second, out of the corner of my half closed eye, I think I see movement from the shadowy closet to my right. Then an instant a hand is firmly clamped over my nose and mouth.
I am more confused than scared at first. It this some kind of joke? I grab at his arm to pull it away, without success.
I quickly realize it is not. His other hand appears holding a knife with a large, sharp blade. A chill of terror runs down my spine. I find myself suddenly fighting for my life. The man holding me is successfully stifling my screams and at the same time pinning me back against his chest. He pulls my chin up, and I can feel my neck being exposed.
My heart is pounding intensely in my throat. The blade is cold as it slides up against my neck just behind my left ear. I stop struggling and hold still, knowing that fighting at this point is useless. I will have to change my strategy. I can feel his firm build underneath his rough clothes as he presses up against my mostly naked body.
”Hope you’re enjoying your stay, bitch.” He says quietly in my ear, but my mind is not clear enough to make sense of what he is saying.
There is a pause and a moment of silence, then with one quick motion, he drags the knife across my neck. I feel an instant rush of warmth across my chest, then a spurts of warm fluid coming up the back of my throat into my mouth and sinuses. I can taste blood on my tongue.
He holds me for just a second longer, letting me squirm and wriggle. I am finding it hard to focus on anything. Then, I feel myself pissing. Urine soaking my panties and dribbling down my leg.
He moves his hand away from my mouth. I want to scream, but no sound comes out. He pulls me around by the hair and shoves me face first down onto the bed.
Blood is soaking into the sheets around my face and mouth. I have enough sense to realize my throat has been slit. One hand instinctively finds its way to the gash in my neck, trying to somehow stop the bleeding.
Blood is coming out of my nose and mouth now with each rattly gurgle of a breath.
I can feel the man over and behind me, pulling away my wet panties then forcing himself inside me. I feel my pussy stretching to accept his large dick. I can feel his hands running up my back.
For one weird, inexplicable moment, I find myself craving his touch. His hot breath on my back, his rough hands on my trembling skin, his dick filling me and satisfying my craving for sex. I always liked breathplay and rape fantasies, and this is the ultimate one. I gurgle out something that almost sounds like a moan of pleasure. It must have been too loud, because in response, I feel the knife driven deep into my back, grinding deep between my ribs. He pulls it out and stabs me again and again in time with each thrust of his pelvis. My breathing comes to a quick stop. Pain overwhelms pleasure. My back arches and a fresh flow of blood gushes from my neck. My chest aches as my lungs fill with blood. My head pounds as my brain starves for oxygen.
Finally satisfied, he drops the knife on the sheets in front of my face. I can watch my own blood ooze down the blade.
Then, he leans in close, his head next to mine. Satisfied that I am sufficiently incapacitated, he moves away. I can see him stripping off his bloodstained clothes; then, he disappears from view.
The dark room falls quiet.
All I can do is lie there, taking in everything as oblivion looms, threatening to engulf me at any moment. I hear the sound of running water, music from far off, someone yelling in the hall just passing by.
The weak thud of a final heartbeat. Then, nothing.
My senses are fading. Am I still feeling or is this just the last few neurons firing off in my brain? I cannot be sure.
Icy fingers brushing across my skin.
Frozen hands gripping me, pulling me away.
A twinge of sadness.
A tremor of fear.
The darkness swallows me whole.
This was wonderfully written and very enjoyable to read. Thanks for sharing!
A young woman, a slit throat and a rape. How could I not like it?