Raunchy Drunken Hate Sex...[m/f] | 2016

Sophomore year of college was a hellacious year for me, not really because of school, but because I was seeing this guy who’s friend and roommate absolutely hated me. From the get go it seemed as if ‘Josh’ had something against me and I had no idea what, other than to think he just thought it was funny to make me angry and irritate my ex-boyfriend ‘Mike’.

As far as I knew we’d never met and didn’t have any classes together so I couldn’t figure it out, I hadn’t even spoken two words to the guy. I remember the first time Mike introduced me to all his roommates, they were playing xbox and Josh just looked me over dismissively and asked if it was okay if he banged the girl next door now since Mike had found something else to fuck.

Instead of letting it get to me like he clearly thought it would considering his smug look and the way everyone else was disregarding the game and looking at me as if they expected me to run out of the room crying (Mike included and not knowing what to do), I just smiled and told the idiot not to feel guilty about taking his roommates used up sloppy seconds because he’d probably start feeling really shitty about his situation after masturbating to the sounds of me and Mike fucking everyday from then on. I told him he needed to take what he could get if he had such limited prospects.

That first impression just sort of set the precedence for our messed up interactions throughout the year. I didn’t necessarily understand why it had to continue but I wasn’t going to put up with his shit either. We got into screaming matches all the time and neither of us would back down, always wanting to have the last word. No one ever stepped in to stop us. It was almost as if Mike and all his other roommates thought it was entertaining to watch us go toe to toe and dole out verbal beatings to one another whenever the chance presented itself. We were constantly taking low blows at each other, some of which I’ll admit were humorous, but the fact that I lived on campus and they had a house made it feel like Mike and I couldn’t get away from Josh.

My own roommate and I were cool but she never really appreciated me coming home drunk, late, or having sex on the bunk above her, so I tried to respect that to keep her happy. Mike on the other hand shared an off campus house with four roommates who liked to party and didn’t really care about anything as long as no one was stealing from each other or getting the cops called. Thus Mike and I were pretty much forced to spend all our time at his place considering we both liked to smoke and we fucked like rabbits and didn’t have an alternative place to do so. All the other roommates had no problem with this or me and we got along well. It was only Josh who seemed to get off on seeing me angry and always wanted to ruffle my feathers.

Mike and I did eventually break up when it just became too much. Josh had started taking things to extremes, even going so far as to threaten to walk in on me in the shower if I didn’t get out of the bathroom right that second even though I’d only just walked in to bathe. He was always trying to get a rise out of me, and my ex just thought it was funny and harmless, and he wasn’t threatened by him at all considering he knew I loathed the guy. I’d had enough and I think its safe to say everyone else had too.

Fast forward two years to my last semester of school and somehow I’d been blessed enough not to run into either Mike or Josh, but that all changed one random night when my lab partner ‘Chris’ invited me to his place for a party. I was living off campus with two of my closest girlfriends at the time so we all got dressed up and headed over there.

I didn’t even notice Josh was there until we locked eyes across the room only to begin glaring at each other, still no love lost between us after all that time. He was playing beer pong in the basement so my friends and I hung out upstairs after that to avoid him, and instead did shots and played dice games with my Chris and one of his other friends. As the end of the night rolled down and the party started thinning out, Chris suggested we see if we could get on the beer pong table. I reluctantly followed even though I wasn’t planning on playing. I didn’t know anyone else at the party and I was pretty drunk at this point so I went with them.

When we walked downstairs I was irritated to see Josh still there playing beer pong with a partner against two other girls. Chris called next game and we stayed off to the side just chatting so no one took our place, but I could feel Josh glaring at me the whole time and every once in awhile I would give him a disgusted look of my own.

When Josh’s game was finally over my one girlfriend and Chris’s friend were in a full on sloppy drunken makeout session that nobody wanted to get in the blast radius of to interrupt. Naturally, I was volunteered to step in to play and seeing an opportunity to annoy the hell out of me Josh offered to play with Chris. I later found out they were cousins and that’s why he was there at all so maybe it wasn’t just to annoy me.

Still, when I tried to back out of playing he goaded me. I glowered at him, at which point he just told me to get the ratchet ass look off my face and to prepare to get my ass beat. Feeling the tension, Chris asked if we knew each other. To answer him Josh actually referred to me as the cum dumpster that his old roommate used to drop loads in every five minutes.

I was trying not to dignify him with a response the way I used to and thereby initiate the battle he so clearly wanted to have while in front of people I didn’t know and didn’t want to start a scene around, so I just concentrated on beating him though I didn’t stop with the death glares.

He calmed down a bit during the game, though we still stared each other down. He smirked and laughed at me infuriatingly the whole time. Unfortunately my team didn’t win, and when his did he just started going off and saying things that had my girlfriend glaring at him, telling him to shut the fuck up, and Chris just to look at me apologetically while telling him to chill out.

He came around the table to heckle me while I went to finish the left over cups and I ended up throwing the last one in his face. While he stood there shocked I scurried up the stairs saying I was going for a smoke and making my escape. I was relieved when I didn’t hear him follow me.

I was out there by myself since there were only a few people left there at all, and I was leaning over the railing on the back deck when I heard the sound of the screen door opening. I turned just in time to see Josh there holding a half full pitcher of jungle juice and clearly looking to get some revenge. I wasn’t fast enough to get out of the way, though I did knock his arm down enough so he only managed to hit my neck, breasts and stomach. Too bad I was wearing a nice white tank under my black cropped jacket and it was now sloppily dyed red like I was out of the movie Carrie or something.

Naturally I was super pissed, especially when I noticed he looked entirely too pleased with himself. He actually had the gall to tell me he’d drawn first blood, like being covered in jungle juice was somehow the equivalent because it’s red. After that I blew my lid and just started going off, except he was right there with me, digging up all the old insults we’d used on each other.

Somewhere along the line I told him he was a jerk, while he came back and told me I was the one that nicknamed him fap-master-flex and made everyone else start using it. I told him that was only because he wouldn’t stop calling me Mike’s cum dumpster, which he’d brought up again tonight. He told me I was just bitter because it was a true statement, and I told him he was jealous because he was a little dicked prick with no game who couldn’t get off unless it was with his hand.

Apparently that was the one he considered below the belt (pun intended) and without thinking about what he was doing he ended up grabbing me by the wrist and forcibly put my hand on his crotch asking me if what I was touching felt little.

I just kind of froze there, staring speechlessly between his groin and his face wondering how he had found the balls to force me to grope him. I wanted to yell at him that he was pervert, but I couldn’t find my voice, I just gulped and gaped.

Some how, disturbingly, I actually found what he’d done kind of hot. I could feel myself getting wet at the impression of his obviously not so little, though still flaccid, cock.

At that point I think he suddenly realized that he’d crossed the line legally speaking, and considering how much we’d hated on each other in the past, he looked a bit wide eyed and pale as he flung my hand away from him considering the worst possible consequences to his actions.

We stood there for a moment just staring at each other, wondering who was going to say something first and what might come out, when I just decided to say screw it.

I intrepidly put my hand back on his crotch and timidly stroked him through his pants, gauging him carefully to see what his reaction would be. He looked at me like I had just grown horns and stuttered a bit as he asked me what the fuck I was doing. For answer I just squeezed his junk before using both hands to quickly and nervously undo his belt and pop open the button on his jeans.

He didn’t move to stop me although he still looked like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. But when I withdrew his cock from his boxers then licked my palm before wrapping it around his rapidly hardening length he got the picture. As soon as my hand touched skin he came at me fast, harshly catching my lips with his and grinding his dick into my stomach as I yelped a bit in surprise at his ferociousness.

Everything about the kiss was antagonistic, hands were groping everywhere and we both seemed to be fighting for dominance the same way we did with our verbal jabs at one another. When he forced his tongue in my mouth, I bit his lip hard once he withdrew it. Our teeth gnashed together several times but neither of us cared or relented until he moved onto my neck, biting, sucking, and marking his was to my collar bone as he shoved his knee up between my legs causing the skirt I was wearing to hike up.

I felt his hand gliding up my thigh and thought he was going to push my thong to the side but he pulled upwards on it hard causing me to squeal a bit in pain. I felt him smirk as I called him a fucking bastard and he chuckled against my neck before actually running fingers over my pussy.

He wasted no time in going to town on my clit making me squirm before shoving two fingers up inside me. He thrust his hand up into me with all the aggression I was accustomed to with him, but he withdrew from me before I could come so he could use both hands to try and push my shirt down over my breasts.

He was struggling to keep the stretchy material down and I was frustrated at that point so I told him it was already ruined. He took my permission and just ripped it down the center before pulling my breasts out of the cups of my bra.

Satisfied that he’d got what he wanted, I thought he would start fingering me again but instead he stepped hurriedly in between my legs and hoisted my right thigh up on his left hip and used his right hand to line himself up and ease his way partially into me before plunging himself home.

He kept up with the same sort of rhythm, his knees bent so he could get deeper access in the position we were in while his teeth did a number on my nipples. His hand on my thigh was leaving finger shaped bruises with his harsh grip but I couldn’t care less as he kept driving himself roughly all the way into my pussy only to stay there for a couple seconds and then withdraw almost the whole way so he could just thrust back in harder trying to get deeper. It felt fucking amazing and the fact that he grunted every time as he worked to plunge himself into me only aroused me further.

Pretty soon I was coming, breathless and wordlessly clamping myself around him as my muscles convulsed in pleasure. As I came down, finally able to pant again having regained control of my lungs, he picked me up and sort of waddled over to the dust covered rickety old patio table with his pants around his ankle, the jerky movements causing one of my pumps to come off my feet. Once there laid me down to start really fucking me.

My skirt hiked up around my hips, thong pushed to the side, stained shirt ripped, and breasts pulled free of my bra, I probably looked a mess but I didn’t care. He smelt like beer and I was sticky from the jungle juice but his dick just felt so good going in and out of me savagely.

He fucked me on the dirty table really hard, his hands groping roughly at my breasts before one came to rest clasped over my throat. He didn’t squeeze very hard but for some odd reason it really turned me on. Pretty soon he pulled out completely though and sat down in one of the old oversized patio chairs motioning for me to come ride him. First I got down on my knees and took his balls in my mouth and sucked his cock a couple times wanting to have him at my mercy, even if it was only for a moment. His head rolled back but soon he was reaching for me and pulling me up to straddle him, I could tell he was close.

Once in his lap, I sank myself onto him then hooked my feet over his knees for leverage. I started bouncing up and down with his hands on my hips to guide me while he watched mouth wide open and groaning. It didn’t take long before his grip on my hips became almost painful and he thrust up in the air, forcing himself all the way inside of me as he came.

We didn’t say a word as we disentangled. I felt so slutty as I rearranged my skirt, put my lost shoe back on, my breasts away, and zipped my jacket up to hide my torn and stained shirt. I could feel his come dripping down my thigh. I was kind of in shock at what had happened but not at all unhappy.

It was messy and raunchy and ruthless, not at all sweet or romantic, but that sort of defined the relationship we had.

I’d never had spontaneous sex like that in my life. Sex that I had no notion I wanted that badly or even thought about until it actually happened.

Hate sex is the only thing I can think to call it, and I honestly don’t think I’ve had better. The worst thing about it is I’d rather die than tell him that, even if I do hope it somehow miraculously happens again.