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Overall, Andy thinks his luck in life has been all right. Like, not stellar, but pretty okay. He has a job that’s good enough he can pay for his own apartment, he works from home half the week, and though Jess is his first girlfriend literally ever, he’s only 25; it’s not that bad.
Well, his luck has clearly run out, because he invited said girlfriend over to is place so they could meet up for real, maybe go on a date, and rather a cute girl at his front door, he’s staring up at what is 100% a 6’2” man who is at least 40. He doesn’t look a thing like the pictures Jess has been sending him over the last year, and all Andy can even do is stand there and stare.
“Hey,” the guy says. His voice, though it’s deeper, shares that same tone and lilt as Jess’ voice. He must have used some kind of voice pitching software or something. “Sooo, you probably have questions.”
“No,” Andy says immediately as reality slaps him in the face. “No questions. You can go home because I am not interested.”
“I came all the way here,” the guy needles. “You could at least let me come in.”
“You probably should have considered that, like, back when you told me you were a 30-year-old woman?”
Andy doesn’t mean for it to sound like a question, but to be honest, this is just so surreal that part of him can’t even believe it’s happening.
The guy laughs, that same laugh Andy used to look forward to coaxing out of his girlfriend. “God, you’re so funny,” the guy purrs. “Come on. Just for five minutes.”
“Nope,” Andy says. Finally, he has the mind to grip the handle of his front door and swing it shut, only before it can make a nice, satisfying slam, there’s a big, hairy hand wrapped around it, pushing back.
“Invite me in,” the man says again. “Trust me, things will go much easier for you if you’re nice to me.”
“Fuck you,” Andy breathes, heart starting to slam anxiously against his ribcage. “Go away.”
“You don’t have to be mean to me,” the guy says in the same whiny tone Jess uses when Andy teases her over voice chat.
“I absolutely do, you catfishing pervert. You-”
He doesn’t get his next few choice words out because he tries to shut the door again, and “Jess” slams it open, pushing his way inside, an ugly scowl marring his otherwise pleasant features. He’s not, like, ugly, he’s just not a 30-year-old woman, and Andy doesn’t like dudes.
“I thought you would be different,” the guy complains. “Ugh, all men are the same, even nice guys like you.” He sighs as he grabs Andy by his shirt and then physically tosses him over his shoulder. He’s so big compared to Andy, who even with HRT, is only 5’3”, cursed by his genetics to be painfully short. He’s also fat and really hairy, things which “Jess” was not.
“Wow, your apartment really is as tiny as you said it was,” the guy remarks, his tone light and conversational, as if he’s not literally carrying Andy through his own apartment, through his tiny kitchen and into the bedroom beyond.
“My name is Jesse, by the way, not that you asked,” he says as he throws Andy down onto his tiny twin bed and climbs on top of him, the cheap piece of furniture giving a groan of protest; it’s really made for single losers, not giant slabs of man meat.
“Oh, good, one thing you didn’t lie about, then,” Andy bites out, unable to help himself. Jesse stares down at him, looking distinctly disappointed. Andy wishes he was disappointed enough to leave.
“Well, you wouldn’t have gone out with me if you’d known,” Jesse says, like it’s an accusation, shoving his big hands under Andy’s shirt as he does so, which is true, but is still a shitty argument.
“Well I’m not going to out with you now, that’s for sure.”
Jesse sighs, forcing Andy’s shirt off while Andy writhes and squirms under him.
“That’s a really mean thing to say,” he answers. “I’ll forgive you because you’re in shock.”
Then he leans over and grabs his backpack, ripping it open and starting to pull out what Andy can only see as supplies. Lube, toys, gags, duct tape, rope. Fuck. Andy barely has time to panic before Jesse is tying him up, easily overpowering him even as he thrashes and flails and bites. He gets a sock stuffed between his teeth for his trouble, and then Jesse drops him down onto the mattress, tied up and taped up, chest heaving with his knees practically by his ears, arms and legs taped into little bundles at his sides.
Jesse takes a pocket knife out of his bag and puts it between Andy’s legs, his expression impassive as he slowly cuts a hole in the crotch of Andy’s pants, nothing but the sound of Andy’s labored breathing and the tear of fabric in the room.
Jesse adjusts, cock in hand, the bed groaning under them, and then taps himself up against Andy’s dry cunt. Andy shakes his head, but Jesse pays him no mind, he just squirts some lube onto his palm, stroking over himself slowly, then lines up and pushes in.
It's not comfortable, obviously, and Andy physical cringes, muscles going tense as Jesse forces his way inside of him. The stretch stings, and Jesse doesn’t give him any time to adjust before he’s moving, not that it would make a difference, anyway.
The generous smear of lube is definitely doing all of the heavy lifting, the only thing between Andy and a torn pussy, and he’s grateful for that, at least. Jesse is grunting above him, staring at Andy intensely as his dick throbs inside of him, and it’s not like Andy wants to come from this, but he realizes as he watches Jesse’s face that he isn’t even going to get the chance.
It’s literally less than five minutes before Jesse finishes inside of him, and all Andy can do is stare up at him in shock.
“Wow,” Jesse sighs happily. “Not a bad first round.”
Then he pulls out and wanders off to look around, leaving Andy trussed up alone on his bed, too shocked to consider escape.