“I’ve been watching you for a while,” he hissed into my ear from behind. His arms snaked around my waist, his left coming between my breasts and covering my mouth, to stifle any pleas. His right reaching down, between my thighs, fingers searching, lifting my skirt. Trespassing. First finger, thumb rushing roughly through my pubes, bombarding my sex.
He pushes me into my apartment, its dark in there, but he doesn’t stumble. More dragged than led I am placed, belly down over the back of the couch. His left hand now, grasping the hair at the base of my neck, forcing my face into the pillows. With his right, he rips my panties off, scratching me deeply with his fingernails. I feel the blood begin to trickle down my thighs as he impales me. His hips slam against mine. In the middle of my terror, I falter. Confusion. I can feel the white heat of my orgasm building. My hips buck against him, pulling him into me, deeper, forcing him to tear me apart inside. I rock, I buck, I ride, my pussy grinding into him, figure eights. He’s as wide as a tree trunk, as solid as steel inside me. He feels me moving, and misunderstands; he thinks I’m struggling against him. The hand at the back of my head forces my face deeper into the pillow. I struggle for breath, but I’m in too deep, I’m suffocating, drowning in my own spit.
Written in lipstick:
“Don’t think I didn’t know you came, whore. I’ll be back.”
I shiver as I wash myself and think:
God, I hope so. That was the best fuck of my life.
I sleep in my sexiest teddies now. I never bring men home, just in case he needs me.
2 comments:
I found your blog a couple of days back, and read your previous posts. *applause* You capture the heat and intensity, not to mention the passion perfectly.
Keep up the good work - I will certainly be checking back to see what you have next!
Well, I am certainly glad you did! And yes- YES please- PLEASE keep... on... reading!
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