"He Knew" by {ME!}

The mood was perfect. The lights were dimmed and soft music played in the background as the couple caressed each other on the leather couch. He knew she was still reeling from the night’s events and was anticipating further enjoyment. Of course she was. All the others always felt the same way. He had dating down to a science.
First he takes the girl out for some food and, if necessary, to a movie, concert, play or whatever. Then came the catch. On the way home he would “spontaneously” decide to take a leisurely stroll throughout the neighborhood. The cool night air and gentle breeze, when the fates were with him, made the girl walk closer to him. Tonight, the fates loved him. It was a perfect night that went off without a hitch and he knew exactly what she was thinking.
Their kissing became heavier as time passed. Arms previously used for nervous hugging now allowed the attached hands to wander. Every move he made with his hands she reciprocated. She even helped place his hands on her body when she had a preferred spot for them. She was just as into this as he was. He knew she would be and, having caught the hint, moved on to the next step.
Slowly he guided his right hand up to her breast and slid his body even closer to hers. She tried to mask her delighted sigh with an attempt to remove his hand. She was acting hesitant, as he knew she would. Women don’t want men to think they are really that easy. “But they are,” he thought as he pulled her tighter with his left hand.
He knew what was next. She would feign defiance as he slipped his left hand up the back of her shirt. The act was so transparent… on both sides. She would force him to act aggressively, allowing her to retain as much of her virtue as possible. He was getting tired of playing the game and, judging by her lack of any real effort at prevention, she was, too. He drew both hands up along her waist, pulling her shirt up along the way. He then placed his thumbs at the points where the bra cups connect with the rest and continued moving upward until both garments were off.
He pressed his advantage by moving onto her, covering her completely. The top position allowed him to further “control” the situation. This was for show only since she was just as anxious as he was. He was sure that if he didn’t take charge, she most certainly would. But appearances needed to kept and face saved. He alleviated some of his weight by placing his left arm, up to his elbow, beneath her. The position had the added bonus of allowing his other hand to have total access to her body, should that be what they both want. He decided to give her a very hard, passionate kiss to help her relax and because she gave him that look. It was then he noticed the strangest sensation as if is back was sticking to something. He moved his shoulders slightly from side to side and his cotton shirt moved freely. She must have noticed his momentary distraction and offered some half-hearted struggling to get his mind focused back on her.
Using his right hand he collected both her hands and moved them up over her head until they were hanging off the couch. This was a position he knew women loved. The sense of submission tended to overwhelm and excite a woman more than anything else, especially at this stage in a relationship. He placed a knee between her legs and used his other leg to separate them by placing his foot onto the floor. This would also allow him to regain the use of his left hand. With her hands comfortably controlled by his right, he reached down with his now free left hand to undo her jeans. Not once during all this, except when her shirt was in the way, did he stop kissing her. “That’s what separates the real men from the chumps in a woman’s eyes,” he thought. He just wished the pain in his wrists would stop. It was almost breaking his concentration and he knew she wouldn’t suffer for that again.
He absolutely loved women who didn’t wear belts. It made it so much easier for them to get her pants undone. After thanking the appropriate deities she came as prepared as he did and wasn’t wearing those damnable button-fly’s, he managed to loosen the single button and began to unzip. This was no simple task since she was really playing the “hard-to-get” act to the hilt. When he began the arduous task of removing her pants he began kissing her exposed breasts to cover his need to see what he was doing. Right after he left her lips she began asking for him to return and softly telling him she didn’t want his attention centered on anything but kissing. He was just about to the tricky part when she finally stopped muttering “no” and allowed him to concentrate. He knew she’d understand.
He now had to take off her pants while maintaining that sense of control. He used his chest to hold her body and merely lifted himself up from the waist down until he had the pants below her knees. From there it was just a quick tug to get them the rest of the way. Practice really does make perfect and her knew she’d appreciate his abilities. The sudden chill on his legs almost caused him to stop and only the knowledge of her resultant disapproval and disappointment kept him going. But it was hard to ignore.
He looked up into her eyes and uttered the words he knew would melt her remaining resolve at keeping up appearances. “I love you,” he repeated several times in quick succession. Repeating it made it seem more spontaneous and unrehearsed. Normally he’d use the girl’s name but that wasn’t that necessary. The words were the important thing. It allowed her the chance to stop fighting and live with the belief that this was all an emotional bonding between them. He knew women loved that poetic junk and had no problem using it to his advantage.
She stopped moving and he took the opportunity to begin unzipping his own pants. Her eyes had been rather tightly shut until that moment, lost in the sensations. “Why do the girls always pick now to look at me?” He knew he looked silly as he strained to push his pants down to his knees. He was struck by the fact that he didn’t feel that usual rush of air on his erection that always served to further his arousal. All he did feel were wrists, back and pressure on his stomach. The area around his scrotum was dry, almost chapped, and was beginning to cause him great discomfort. But no thrilling wind to accentuate the feeling of exposing his penis.
Her face flashed before him as he blinked. His eyes always fluttered as he got closer and closer to actual intercourse but this time felt differently. Not just because of all those strange feelings but because at times, between eye blinks, he didn’t just see her. Sometimes he saw his own face. He felt as if his body was on automatic. He wasn’t so much controlling what he did as realizing what it did. The patterns of movement and rhythms were definitely his but there were no thought put into them. He began to worry that he was becoming jaded with sex after all his experience. He began to see his own face more and more and she had almost completely stopped moving beneath him.
He noticed a rubbing sensation on the fingers of his right hand and on the inner parts of his upper thighs as he realized he was pulling her panties to one side. He regained some sense of control just as he was about to shove his penis into her and wrote off the happenings to a free running imagination. He used his middle, ring and little fingers of his hand to guide himself in while still clutching her underwear between his thumb and forefinger. The phantom sensation between his legs became all too real as he felt himself enter his own body. He watched as he forced his body into her. He had trouble locating the pain given his inexperience with the true inner workings of the female anatomy but knew enough to recognize it as in the vaginal area. He could feel what could he could only imagine was the bruising and tearing of his vaginal walls as he roughly shoved his penis into her and then pulled it back out. He yelled in a woman’s voice but ignored it as cries of pleasure. He tried to push himself off with arms too weak from struggling to even make him budge. How could he ever hope to find the strength to fight a person so much bigger and stronger than himself? He finally did the only thing he could think of and gave up.
The man on top of him finally finished and removed himself, slowly this time, and stood up. He towered over her with a smile crossing his sweaty face and words coming from his reddened lips. He just kept saying how much he cared for her and how wonderful she was and other lies. All that was on her mind at the moment was cleaning herself and forgetting this ever happened. “Please just leave… please,” she begged in her mind, scared that anything spoken could incite his anger. Or worse, her pleading could incite his further affection.
The man pulled his pants up and fastened the buttons before zipping the fly. He met her eyes and looked at her as if he were her best friend in the world. He thanked her for a great night and asked her to call him for another. She could feel a tear forming in her left eye and his sperm dripping between her legs. Her eyes went wide as the man slowly began to fade away and she felt herself slowly becoming him again.
His pants were at his knees and he could feel a wetness on his thigh where his now flaccid penis laid. He was resting his head on the arm of the couch and his arms were above his head. He let all the air out of his lungs, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet dorm room. He remained there, unmoving, throughout the night and was discovered by his roommate when he returned at the agreed upon time. He was still staring off into nothingness, whispering the same sentence over and over:
“I hate him… I hate him… I hate him… I hate him…I hate him… I hate him….”