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'Mine' When you finally fuck me, the ferocity and violence of it shocks me. I knew what to expect. Or I should have known. This is not our first time. Not by any means. Although it has been a while. But you'd also disarmed me with kindness and sweetness and conversation about science fiction and politics. So I'd forgotten you are dangerous. Not misleading exactly. Just being a different version of yourself. A gentler one. There was a moment when we sat together, talking, laughing, drinking, the flirtation and chemistry cracking between us - we both knew where the night would end, or at least I thought I did - where I thought perhaps I'd misremembered some of the times before. It didn't seem possible for you as you were in those moments also to be you as you are now. Now, you are all sharp pointed fingers, and teeth, grabbing hold of my body, digging into me, bruising my skin. And I... I am not. I have simply ceased to be under the weight of you. My body is present. Painfully, sobbingly present. But my mind, my inner monologue, those chains of thoughts that make up 'me' are gone entirely. You rip into my tits, my nipples with your nails, dragging them down my body, moving your hands to open my cunt. You note that the light from the window frames it perfectly, a clearly marked target. You beat my clit, my cunt, my arse first with your fingers, then with the back of your hand, and finally with your fist. I have no reference for response. There is no metaphor to describe being punched in my cunt. It is unrelentingly literal. You move to sit on my chest, pinning my arms with your knees, and slide your cock into the back of my throat. I cough and gasp and splutter and it makes not the slightest difference. Later I will reflect that this is exactly the position I recall most often from when I was assaulted. I don't know if you are mimicking this intentionally, or if you, like he, just find this to be a very convenient way to ensure my compliance. All I am now is this tight warm wet hole for you. By the time you roughly force your cock into my arse, I am reduced to a sobbing desperate mess. The pain rips through me as you thrust. Jabbing harder and faster, and harder still, over and over. I don't know anything now but this pain. My crying and occasional screams are buried in the pillow under my face, matched by your grunts and moans, until finally gripping my hair tightly you growl 'mine' into my ear and cum deep inside me. It's true. In this moment what little there exists of me is yours. |
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Has to be an R
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As long as it’s actually what you wanted and like too... Interesting as I don’t appreciate pain with anal sex (whether I give or receive - not that I’ve done much of the latter for a long time). I don’t think it needs, or should, hurt.
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Nice post. I love all of the sounds and actions / reactions. Howling at the moon and mal ad osteo.
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