Is it wrong to have raped your best friend?

  That was the question that had haunted my mind as I sat across the bed and watched as my semen trickled down from the pussy of my best friend. Rachel say sitting in her bed, her legs apart with her head hanging low in shame and her hair covering her face, and the tears streaming down her cheeks. I had never been a rapist, but something just happened a few moments ago and I found myself in the middle of the crime.

  "I'm sorry," I said to Rachel, who sat silently with her eyes fixed on the ground, the cum dripping out of her cunt. The bed we sat on was a mess, the white bed sheet had turned brown from her dried blood, and the pillows had fallen to the ground from the force with which Rachel's head was banged on them as I took her. The room smelled like a pig's pen. It stunk of sweat, semen and sex. My mind went back to when this all started and it was like a movie running inside my head.

  Rachel had asked me to come over and hang out, as she was about to leave for a new job and she wanted us to spend time together before she left. She had prepared some snacks and we had begun watching a movie in her living room, when the power went off. After the first two hours, we both knew that the electricity wasn't going to come back soon. We had both had a few drinks by then, and since it was getting late and there was no way we could return home, Rachel invited me to stay in the guest bedroom.

  Before I knew it, I had pinned her to the bed and was pounding into her, not knowing what had gotten over me. It had been so long since I had last had sex, and when I saw her naked body under the moonlight, my cock had become harder than it ever had been. It was like an animal had been awakened inside me and the next thing I knew was that I had her on her bed, pounding away without giving her a chance to say yes or no. I had fucked the shit out of her, and as I came into her cunt, I realized that it was all a big mistake.

  What did I do?

  It was a question I had asked myself several times, and now that I had finished cumming, I had finally gotten my senses back. I couldn't believe what I had done, and I felt so ashamed and embarrassed. I was supposed to be her best friend, yet here I was, sitting next to her with my cum dribbling out of her pussy.

  "I'm sorry, Rachel," I told her again, this time a little louder, hoping that she would listen to me. She looked up at me, her eyes red and wet from all the tears. She seemed so ashamed, and I could tell that she was hurting badly. I felt so sorry for her, and the fact that I was the one who caused her the pain made it worse.

  "I'm sorry," I mumbled, trying to fight back the tears. "I'm sorry, Rachel."

  A muffled voice came from her lips, and I couldn't understand what she was saying. I tried to lean closer, but the moment I got closer to her, she pushed me away.

  "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm sorry."

  She mumbled something again, and I tried to figure out what it was. But the next thing I heard was a loud smack and her hand had landed hard on my face. The pain was searing, but the shock and embarrassment were far greater. I stumbled backwards, landing on the floor. My head hit the wall hard and the pain spread across my entire body. Rachel was now sitting on the bed, crying her eyes out. Her hair was a mess, and her body was trembling with fear. I could see the blood on her thighs, and I knew that it was all because of me. She was in pain, and she was scared. And it was all because of me. As Rachel sobbed and cried, I sat on the floor, trying to figure out what had just happened. What had gotten into me? Why did I do it?

  "I don't know, I don't know," I whispered, still shocked. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

  I stood up, and walked back to the bed where Rachel was. Her tears had stopped, and she was staring at me with a look of horror on her face. I reached out and placed my hand on her cheek. She flinched and pulled away from me.

  "Please," I pleaded. "Please forgive me."

  I looked into her eyes and could see that she was hurt and afraid. I didn't know what to do or say. I was at a loss for words. I was feeling a mixture of emotions. Anger, sadness, guilt, and remorse. I had never felt like this before. I mustered up the courage to run my fingers through her hair and gently touch her face. With a quick motion of my fingers, I ripped the tape that had covered her mouth the entire night, that had muffled her cries, and her pleas to stop, her pleas for mercy as I raped her that night.

  Before she could say anything, I bent forward and kissed her softly on her lips. She flinched again, and tried to pull away. But I was stronger, and I held her firmly by her waist and pressed my lips harder on hers.

  "Please," I said in between kisses. "Forgive me."

  I went on kissing her, and she kept struggling to free herself. But it was no use. She was powerless, and she knew it. So she gave up, and I continued to kiss her. Her lips were soft and moist, and they tasted sweet and salty at the same time. I pulled open her mouth and shoved my tongue into her. Soon, I was exploring every inch of her mouth, tasting her saliva, and enjoying the warmth of her tongue. She was helpless, and she could only let me take control.

  As I was kissing her, I reached down and grabbed her breasts. They were soft and warm, and they felt amazing in my hands. Then I moved my fingers down to her pussy. She was wet, and her pussy was soaking with my cum. I slid my finger inside her, and she let out a moan. That was when I realized the gravity of what I had done, the amount of semen I felt inside her, and how much my sperm was flowing in her womb. I felt like I had gone too far. Pregnancy was no longer a matter of if, but rather, when.

  I broke the kiss and looked at her. She had her eyes closed, and her face was covered with tears. She was breathing heavily, and her heart was racing. She looked so beautiful. So innocent. So pure. And so helpless. I knew what I had done was wrong. Very wrong. And yet, I felt so good. The feeling of her lips on mine, and knowing that my cum was still inside her, was enough to make me feel like a man. A powerful man. I felt like a god. Like a conqueror.

  ...

  "Forgive me, Rachel," I whispered. "My only regret is not doing it sooner..."

  I kissed her once more and with that, I left her alone, naked, and with her pussy full of my cum.

  And this is how I came to be a rapist.

  Was I wrong?