The party was in full swing at Richard's apartment, the sound of laughter and music filling the air. Richard, a short, fat, shaven-headed man, was making his way through the crowd, a drink in his hand. He was never the life of the party, but he enjoyed hosting them, watching as his friends mingled and had a good time.
In the midst of the crowd, Nastya stood out. A short, short-haired brunette with small tits, wide hips, and a round ass, she was dressed in a slim-fitting sweater and tight jeans. She was overdoing it with the alcohol, and Richard couldn't help but notice her state. With a concerned expression, he made his way over to her.
"Hey, Nastya, are you okay?" Richard asked, looking at her with concern.
Nastya looked up at him, her eyes glazed over from the alcohol. "I'm fine," she slurred, "I just need some fresh air."
Before Richard could respond, Nastya turned and stumbled out of the apartment, leaving her shoes and outerwear behind. Richard watched her go, his heart racing. He had always had a crush on Nastya, but she had never given him the time of day. He couldn't let her go out into the cold alone, so he followed after her.
When he found her, she was leaning against the wall, her breath visible in the cold air. Richard approached her, concern etched on his face.
"Nastya, you shouldn't be out here without a coat," he said, his voice gentle.
Nastya turned to him, her eyes narrowing. "I don't need your help, Richard," she spat, "I can take care of myself."
Richard took a step back, hurt by her words. But then, Nastya's face twisted in pain, and she clutched her stomach.
"I think I'm going to be sick," she muttered, her voice barely audible.
Before Richard could react, Nastya was on her knees, vomiting onto the ground. Richard stood there, unsure of what to do. He wanted to help her, but he didn't know how.
When Nastya was finished, she stood up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry," she muttered, "I didn't mean to do that."
Richard nodded, his heart racing. "It's okay," he said, "Let's get you back inside."
He reached out to her, but Nastya flinched away from him. "I can walk on my own," she snapped, her voice sharp.
Richard nodded, taking a step back. He followed after her, making sure she made it back inside safely. Once they were back in the apartment, Nastya made a beeline for the bathroom, leaving Richard alone in the hallway.
He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. He had always had a crush on Nastya, but she had never given him the time of day. He couldn't help but feel hurt by her words, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to her behavior than just drunkenness.
As he made his way back to the party, he couldn't help but think about Nastya. He wanted to help her, but he didn't know how. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more going on beneath the surface.
* * *
Nastya sat in the dark bathroom, her head in her hands. She couldn't believe what had just happened. She had always thought of herself as strong and in control, but here she was, drunk and vulnerable.
She couldn't shake the feeling that Richard had followed her outside with ulterior motives. She had always ignored his feelings, joking about them and brushing him off. But now, she was starting to wonder if she had been too harsh.
She stood up, looking at herself in the mirror. Her mascara was smudged, and her hair was a mess. She looked a mess, and she felt even worse.
She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. She couldn't shake the feeling that Richard was going to try something, and she needed to be prepared.
She opened the bathroom door, her heart racing. She scanned the hallway, but it was empty. She let out a sigh of relief, making her way back to the party.
But then, she felt a hand on her arm. She turned around, her heart racing. Richard was standing there, a smirk on his face.
"I've been looking for you," he said, his voice low.
Nastya tried to pull away, but Richard's grip was too strong. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear.
"Let go of me," she muttered, her voice shaky.
But Richard didn't listen. Instead, he pulled her into a dark room, closing the door behind them.
Nastya's heart was racing as she tried to gather her thoughts. She knew what was happening, and she knew she needed to stop it.
"I have my period," she blurted out, her voice shaking.
Richard's smirk faltered for a moment, but then it was back. "That's okay," he said, his voice low. "I have something else in mind."
Before Nastya could react, Richard had pulled down his pants, pulling out his dick. She tried to protest, but it was too late. Richard's dick was resting against her lips, and she couldn't move away.
Richard held her by the hair, fucking her in the mouth with sharp, rough movements. Nastya tried to push him away, but she was too drunk and weak. Richard took revenge for all the times Nastya had ignored his feelings or joked about them.
From a particularly sharp and deep movement, Richard's cock entered Nastya's throat, and she was sick. But Richard didn't care. He continued to fuck her mouth, his movements growing rougher and rougher.
Nastya's throat convulsively contracted, squeezing Richard's cock, and he began to cum, pressing her head to his groin. Nastya's mouth quickly filled with Richard's thick sperm, and she had to start swallowing it, swallowing portion after portion.
Having completely poured into Nastya's mouth, Richard took out his dick and wiped it on Nastya's lips. Patting her cheek condescendingly, Richard left the room, leaving Nastya alone in the dark, with her lips stained with sperm and the taste of sperm in her mouth.
Nastya used to feel superior to Richard. Now she was broken and subdued. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had let him win, and she didn't know how to move forward. She sat there in the dark, her mind racing, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
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