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The Rapist Next Door


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1990

After college, I had no clear plan except to move to a large city, live on my own and figure my life out. The apartment building I could afford to live in was obviously not luxurious. It was an old hotel built in the 1920's and it had its charms, but it was also kind of a dump. I didn't mind because I knew I wouldn't be living there permanently. I was going to be a great journalist or novelist or something that would make me rich and famous. That was the attitude of so many kids in their early 20's back then. And then you learn that the world is a harsh place and everybody's daily horoscope should always read "You will be disappointed today". But, back then I was happy and embracing life. 

I liked living in this sad, beautiful building. Rent was cheap and I had some interesting neighbors. Poor people are usually more interesting than 'comfortable' people. For example: There was a girl named Rissa  down the hall who was a local stripper. She was a mixture of all kinds of races, and also chubby. And even though she wore 'librarian glasses' and carried some extra poundage, she radiated sensuality and I loved just looking at her while she talked. For a while, she mistook my interest as a desire to fuck her, but I told her right away that I was gay even though I had no gay experience at the time. We still hung out when she wasn't stripping or "working". We got really stoned one night and she told me about the guys she dated just for money to pay bills. We talked free and loose and I mentioned how much I liked the tenants in this building.

"Well, don't get too fond of everybody, baby. There are bad people here. There's even a rapist living on our side of the building".

"Who?"

"Some big, weird-ass-looking dude who tried to come on to me in the laundry room. I told him I had a gun in my hamper and he left. I actually went and bought a gun the next day. Want to see it?"

"No. Keep it safe somewhere. How do you know he's actually a rapist?"

"I heard it from some girls at the club...as well as a few women here. Right here. In this building!"

"Yeah, but wouldn't he have been caught with that many accusers?"

"Cute. You still think the police give a shit about this neighborhood. They don't....especially if you're 'working'. I'm not the only one here, ya know?"

"Oh. Well, I'm glad you're armed."

She gave me a kiss on the cheek before she had to get ready for the club, and sent me back to my place with a piece of apple pie and a joint. 

Is it weird that I was a little excited about all this new information? I was. I almost wanted to wander the halls and see if I could see the famous rapist, but it was late and I just went to bed. It wasn't an easy sleep, though -- the guy next door was moving out. I wouldn't miss him. He was a delicate ballet blonde that walked on his tiptoes and never said a word to anybody. Plus he played Pet Shop Boys way too loud. His place didn't stay empty too long. Maintenance moved in and started fumigating, painting and vacuuming right away. And it was quiet for a few days until I heard the noises of a new tenant moving in. He must have plugged his TV in first because I heard those ESPN jerks blabbing through my wall almost immediately. It was 8 in the morning, for chrissakes. I tried covering my head with a pillow, but then there was an urgent knock on my door. Rissa. She was still in what I'm assuming she slept in and quickly closed the door behind her.

"He's here!"

"Who? David Cassidy?" (I was still half asleep).

"No. That creepy rapist is right on our floor now. I need to move".

"You've got a gun. He's not going to mess with you. And he isn't going to try anything with a guy. Please don't move".

"Well, I'm going to get a big dog then".

"I'll walk him for you".

A few days passed with no incident. And I found my myself getting more interested in my new neighbor. I'd sit silently against the wall and listen to his TV and stereo. I wanted information...or something. A clue. I could hear him when he ran the shower and I could hear his phone conversations. I was becoming obsessed with the heterosexual rapist. Maybe it was all the straight porn I'd seen in the past -- the kind when the guys would basically attack women and force them into sex. Their dicks seemed to just want a hole to fill with seed. Was my neighbor like that?

Rissa left for a weekend with her latest "male friend". And I took the opportunity to go introduce myself to my new neighbor. I took a six-pack of Busch Light (which was the only brand I could afford back then). Why was I doing this? I knocked on his door and listened to the TV being turned down and some heavy footsteps come to the door. Shit shit shit.

The door swung open and there he was. He was so tall...6'4"? And had a lot of almost-beard going on all over the lower part of his face. And that face! He was definitely ugly.  Half of his chin looked caved in my an invisible fist and his eyes were tiny and close together. 

"Yes?"

"Hi. I'm your neighbor. I just wanted to welcome you to our floor".

He flashed a smile of pretty gross teeth and then let me in. I handed him the six-pack.

"Thanks! I don't drink beer, but I can offer you something stronger."

His place was neat and tidy except for an enormous dirty sock in the middle of the floor. I was on auto-pilot as I plopped down on his nice couch.  He was mixing drinks in the kitchen and I stared at the big TV that was showing dome sort of motorbike race in the mud. He returned, handed me a glass and sat down next to me. 

"Here. I'll mute it so we can talk." His body next to mine gave me little electrical impulses.

"You like your new place?"

"Oh yeah. It's bigger and I've always liked change. That chick across from me hates my ass though."

I took a deep gulp of the drink he handed me. Vodka and Sprite? "She thinks you're a rapist". I can't believe I just blurted that out.

"Oh", He paused. "Well, stories get spread I suppose."

"Any of those stories true?"

"Why? You a cop or something?"

"No. Not at all. I just think it's kind of fascinating".

"Remember about five years ago -- when they were investigating the 'West Forest Rapist'? And they had police sketches in the newspaper?"

"No. I wasn't living here then."

"Well that artist was a retard because his sketch didn't look anything like me. I must have knocked up about nine single ladies back then. That was goal. I wanted to impregnate them with my bare dick and then lo around the city for kids that looked like me. But then the police moved in and I moved on to the strip clubs. I bare-fucked so many of those whores. I know most of 'em are fixed or on birth control, but my sperm are pretty powerful. I got at least three kids by strippers by now. Then when I wasn't welcome in the clubs anymore, I started fucking prostitutes on Caleo Street. That was way cheaper, but I got so many diseases there....including AIDS.  Now I'm just figuring out what do next."

I nodded and finished my drink.

"Ever raped a man?", I asked.

"Just once. It was in prison, but he looked almost exactly like a woman. Why do you ask?"

What the hell was I thinking? "Because I wouldn't mind being raped by you now".

"Not now".

"OK"

"Go home and shave all around your ass and crotch, Hell -- shave your whole body if you can. When you're done, go to bed with your door unlocked. Just be patient.

I had almost no body hair, but I shaved what little I could find. I dried off with a fresh towel and fell into bed. Did he say "AIDS"??  I didn't have time to think about it because my front door creaked open. And then a huge hand was around my mouth and a big, bare dick was being pressed in between my butt cheeks. I'd asked for this in a way. What I didn't ask for was the incredible sting of his cock head pushing into my hole. I tried yelling 'no', but my lips were covered. I tried to squirm away, but he was just too large. This is the reality of rape, I thought. It's not sexy. It's violent and it hurts. I was so miserable as he shoved that dirty weapon in deeper...and then deeper. Good Lord -- how much more of that dick could there be??? But it kept driving in and I was aware of what he was saying:

"You gonna have my baby, Bitch".

and "You Fucking Slut!"

I was helplessly surviving this. I had a brief fantasy of Rissa barging in with her gun and shooting him. In the head.

And then he sped up his pace. He took his giant hand from my mouth and started using it to pull my hair as he climaxed. He drug it out dramatically, huffing and groaning and saying "shit". The he rushed out -- which is what I guess rapists are used to doing. I'd bled all over my clean bed and wondered if I'd have to get a new mattress.

A few days later, The Rapist and I watched a movie together at his place. We ended up having sex again. And again. For the next two months. 

And then he was gone. Evicted I guess because they hauled all his stuff out to the curb.

But he left me with one of his possessions...his HIV. Like I said --- the world is a harsh place.

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  • 4 months later...

I LOVE going thru your older stories!!! They are as good as you post now! It was so hot of you to get up the nerve to get with this man! So hot to be there with you. Him crawling onto your back, covering your mouth as his dick pierces you and then finds home!

Damn hot story!

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