Betty and Che | By : broadwaybetty Category: +1 through F > Betty Boop Views: 3705 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I don't own Betty Boop or Che Guevara (at least not that I know of...) This is purely a work of fiction, I don't know either of these lovelies and I don't make any profit from these writings. |
Che felt an all too familiar rush below his belt; the starched khaki wasn’t the only think stiff about his pants. He followed as she made her way through the revolving doors of the hotel, turning to press her breasts against the cool glass, eliciting an unmistakable response from her nipples, now visible beneath the thin fabric of her dress. Che’s heart beat to the rhythm of her steps, as her heels echoed with a distinctive ‘click’ as she walked through the empty lobby towards the elevator.
She glanced over her shoulder and gave Che a little grin that immediately flung his thoughts back to the lipstick smear along his cock, which was rapidly reviving itself. As she pressed the button and stepped back, Che sidled up behind her and placed his hands on her hips, tilting his head forward to kiss her neck.
He sucked, lightly grazing his teeth across her collarbone, gradually sliding his hands further and further back to cup her full, round ass, giving it a squeeze with both hands. They both jumped at the sound of a ‘bing’ as the elevator arrived on their floor.
Betty took a step towards the door as Che put a firm hand on her shoulder and slammed the emergency stop button.
Betty turned and shot a saucy look at Che, “ooh like it kinky do-” she was cut short as Che brought a hand swiftly across her face.
“Hey! Whad’ya thik you-” another slap and he lifted her off her feet, resting her arse on the railing and keeping a rough hand on her creamy neck.
Betty opened her mouth to scream but she was stopped by one of Che’s large hands. He moved closer to her ear and tightened his grip on her neck.
“you’re not gunna scream and you’re not gunna struggle, and I’m not gunna have to hurt you”
Betty gaped, suddenly aware of the immense danger she was in. She didn’t know this man and nobody knew she was stuck between floors with him either.
A rough hand slid up her right thigh, tugging her dress up, knocking a garter clip askew. The other hand left her throat to fumble with his own belt.
She saw her chance and she seized it, lashing out with her leg from her perch on the bar and hit the emergency stop button again, jolting the elevator back to life.
Che waggled his finger at her, abandoning his pants and grabbing her fine ankles with one hand, smacking the button with his palm with the other.
Betty shivered, more than a little fearful of what her disobedience would reap. She was jerkily flipped over, hips now resting on the bar circling the plush elevator, her breasts now crushed against the glass. Her arms were forcefully tugged behind her as he fumbled with his pants again.
Che grinned wickedly when he heard the squeak of terror as he bound her hand in his thick strap leather belt. He pinioned her legs apart by anchoring his boots firmly between her heeled feet, leaning forward and pressing his chest onto her back as he settled his hands on her hips, kneading her arse before running his hands up her hourglass shape and cupping those tempting breasts.
Betty kicked her heels into his shins, the stiletto’s tearing through his fatigues and leaving fine lines of blood along his legs. Che kneed her in the back and she groaned in pain, leaning her head against the cool glass. Che kicked her leg apart and plunged a coarse finger inside her, making her shiver. She stood, too fearful to move as he withdrew is finger from her and dipped it into his mouth, savouring the taste of her submission.
Betty felt his grip on her loosen and quickly pulled out of his grasp, bolting awkwardly to the door, trying desperately to get at the emergency button.
Che stood still, his back to her as she struggled, breathing angrily. Betty suddenly felt her arms get jerked back by the belt that bound them, making her shoulders wrench with pain as if she were being held in strappado. He hurled her back against the glass leaving a smudge of blood on the crystalline surface as she slid to the floor.
Her vision was blurred and black was creeping in on the borders but she saw him stepping towards her, his pants and boxers not gone and the corded muscles of his thighs clenched as her knelt in front of her. Her legs were pulled apart for what seemed like the millionth time and she was shifted onto his thighs, his arms tightening around her shoulders.
Betty could feel his short, sharp breath on her décolletage as she was lowered into the engorged bead of his cock, the enormous girth and lack of lubrication sending waves of pain shooting through her, each stronger than the last as he shoved himself into her, merciless and bitter, before she slumped into unconsciousness.
Groggily awakening she realised she was now spread eagled on her stomach a hand sending stinging slaps across her ass and lower back, a crushing weight on the backs of her thighs as the man above grunted and pounded into her. As the thrusts became shorter and quicker she moaned, trying to beg him to stop. A hand came down on the back of her head, smacking it against the floor. The darkness closed in quickly again, pulling against the howl of triumph behind her and she feeling of trickling, not only from her bloodied nose, sent nausea shooting to her stomach.
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