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Lydia rolls her eyes as Jackson grunts down her ear. His hips rabbit against her ass as he thrusts his thin cock into her cunt again and again. He doesn't even attempt to rub her clit, and she hasn't got the patience or the energy to do it herself, so she just clenches around him every now and again, until he thrusts hard and digs his nails into her hips and weakly moans as he cums. She pulls away, not even blinking as his cock slips from her, and watches as he ties the condom and chucks it out the window into the hospital car park.
"Jackson," she hisses. He grins.
"What? Jesus, I can't even believe you're doing this? Why are you doing this?"
"I'm trying to be nice, Jackson, jesus," Lydia snaps. "God forbid. These people need help. I'm going to help. I won't even be doing anything, just sat in the chair next to them reading a book so the nurses don't feel bad that they don't have time to be near them."
"Dude, whatever, text me when you're done." Jackson ignored her as she stepped out of the car, so she slammed the door shut loud enough to make him jump.
- - -
"I'm going to put you with Mr. Hale today, Lydia," Mrs McCall said, as she led her down the corridor. "He's been unresponsive for three years now, after waking up briefly. Just a bit of company would be nice, feel free to get on with schoolwork or something, just be in there with him."
Lydia nodded, and waved at Mrs McCall as she shut the door to the room. Lydia got a good look at Mr Hale. His name was Peter. He looked handsome, in a rugged sort of way. Mid-forties, and obviously bearded, the nurses at the hospital didn't have time to shave coma patients. He looked like he was sleeping, he wasn't pale or weak. Lydia shook her head. She sat on the chair next to the bed and got out her book.
- - -
"Well, well, well, looks like I have a new visitor, they didn't tell me you would be so pretty."
Lydia jumped out of her skin. She sprung up out of her chair and gasped. Peter Hale was sat up in bed, a smarmy grin on his bearded face. She looked around for a button to call for the nurses, but didn't know what was what. She moved to go for the door instead.
Peter Hale jumped out of the bed, surprisingly sprite for a man who had apparently been in a coma for the past three years. He moved faster than she could, and turned the lock on the door. His paper gown clung to his body as he stalked to her. He was taller than her, and he pulled her close and pressed a hand to her mouth. "Don't scream, little mouse, you're safe in here. I just need a little bit of entertainment. And the hospital is so warm, it would be a shame to let it go to waste."
Lydia gently grasped his wrist and moved his hand away. "Do they know you're awake?"
"The one that brought you in here, no? But there's a few night nurses that know the truth, I've paid them handsomely for their silence, and their help when I want to get out for a few hours."
Lydia's brows furrowed. "What do you want?"
"What every man wants, little mouse," Peter whispered. He was so strong, and spun her around so her back was pressed against the length of his body. The thin gown did nothing to conceal his erection, and she whimpered as it pressed against her ass. Peter bent her over the hospital bed, and she tried to twist out of his hold but he was too strong. His grip was warm and tight, a hand on her hip and a hand pressed to her mouth. "Don't scream, little mouse, or it won't end well for you. Understand?" Lydia whimpered and nodded.
She kept very still as Peter flipped her dress up, revealing her panties. It was hot outside, and she hadn't bothered with tights. She clenched her eyes shut as her panties were ripped off and chucked somewhere in the room. Peter hummed, and she felt his finger run the length of her cunt. "You're wet, little mouse, wet and open. Have you been fucked?" Lydia held her breath, but cried out when he slapped her ass with a heavy hand. "What did I tell you about making noises, little mouse? Answer my question."
"I - my boyfriend, he, in the car before I came in." Lydia buried her head into the hospital sheets, trying to ignore what the rustle behind her and the sight of the paper gown now crumpled on the floor meant.
Peter chuckled. "Your boyfriend... well, let's see if his cock is anything compared to mine, little mouse."
Lydia gasped as she felt the fat head of a cock brush up against her hole. Jackson didn't stretch her much, but it was enough that the head popped in with ease, and she buried a moan in the sheets as Peter's cock pushed deeper into her cunt, far deeper than Jackson had ever reached. When his hips settled against her ass, Peter stopped.
"How's that, little mouse? Better than your little teenage boyfriend?" he twisted Lydia's hair into his hands and pulled until he could see her face. She nodded, a tear escaping her eyes as his cock hit a pleasure spot inside of her that she had only found herself.
"You're tight, little mouse, practically untouched. I could keep you forever," Peter growled, burying his face into her neck and licking a stripe of wetness onto her skin. His hips began to move, and she stifled her moans as he thrust in and out of her in steady, strong movements. "My little red mouse, with her perfect little cunt, keeping my cock warm. I won't last long, little mouse, it's been a while since I left for a midnight meeting." Lydia gasped and reached back to try and touch his hip.
"Please, don't come in me, please," she begged. Peter laughed.
"Aren't you on the pill, little mouse?" he asked. "You and your little boyfriend must have something worked out."
She shook her head desperately. "No, no, he wears a condom. Please, please," she begged, but it did no good.
Peter's hands tightened on her hips and he began thrusting harder. "Fuck, little mouse, your little unprotected pussy feels so good. Are you sure you want me to pull out? Your little cunt is sucking me in, begging for my cum, your body doesn't want me to leave. You want this, you want me to keep you like this forever, and you want me to rape my cum into your little teenage womb, send you off to your skinny-cocked boyfriend leaking my cum into your panties."
Lydia tried to twist out of his grip again, but his cock anchored her in place and his grip on her hips was tight. His thrusts became less even, and she knew he was close, but she gasped as his hand moved from her hip to fondle her clit, expertly twisting and pinching until she could hardly contain her sounds of pleasure. She didn't want it, but she was cumming on his cock, clenching around the cock raping her cunt, squeezing around the fat length that was going to come in her unprotected cunt.
Peter thrust in, once, twice, three times, then stilled, his hips settling against her ass as his cock pulsed. She felt warmth, a new warmth she had never felt before, and she groaned with Peter as his cum filled her cunt. She felt Peter's cock softening in her cunt, still bigger than Jackson, and she clenched her legs shut when he pulled out. She stayed where she was, bent over on the hospital bed, legs shaking, and watched as he slipped the paper gown back on and climbed back into the bed.
"It's time for you to go now, little mouse," Peter said, lying back down. "But don't worry, I'll find you."
Lydia stood up, flipping her dress down. She found her panties, lying abandoned next to the leg of the bed and pulled them on. She felt something slick pulse from her cunt and realised it was Peter's cum, pooling in her panties. She couldn't look at him, knew she was flushed and sweating. She picked her bag up and unlocked the door, and ran down the corridor and out of the hospital. She swore she could hear Peter's laugh follow her.
- - -
Jackson was waiting in the parking lot still when she came out. She ran to the car and slammed the door shut after she got in. She strapped herself in, and said, "Drive."
Jackson turned the car on, looking at her like she was insane. "Jesus, what's wrong with you?"
"Just take me home, Jackson! It was creepy and the guy was weird, and I want to go home."
Jackson laughed. "You're scared! Big, brave Lydia Martin scared of a weak little dude in a coma. Ha!" He pulled out of the parking lot and began driving the route to her house, still laughing to himself. Lydia wanted to scream, she wanted to pull at the steering wheel and slap him and tell him how Peter Hale wasn't "weak" or "little." That his cock was longer and fatter than Jackson's, that it fucked her better than he ever could, that it raped her better than he could ever dream of making love to her, that she let him cum in her, that he didn't wear a condom, and now Peter Hale's thick cum is leaking into her pussy but that's better than it swimming up to her womb and knocking her up.
When they got home, she gave Jackson a quick, dry kiss, ignoring his protests, and ran through the front door.
Her evening passed in a daze, she ate and showered like normal, but in the shower her fingers delved between her thighs and she tried to scoop any of Peter Hale's cum out of her cunt. She couldn't feel clean no matter how hard she tried.
Eventually, she gave up and just went to bed, changing into a plain tshirt and thin shorts, but she could barely sleep. She had no idea what time it was when a shadow passed outside of her window, making her jump. She sat up, trying to clear her head, and was too scared to scream when she heard her window push open from the outside, and heavy footsteps land on the carpet of her bedroom.
A tall, strong figure stood in the moonlight. "Hello, little mouse." Lydia gasped.