There is nothing delicate about the way you want me to fuck you tonight. It goes entirely against my nature to be this brutal, but I’m also hopelessly in love with you, and I’ll do anything you ask of me, even if that means hurting you.
You’ve carefully explained what you want. All the details have been meticulously thought out. It’s going to be an exceptionally fantastic fuck.
Like the choreography of modern ballet, we both have to be in the right place at the right time. There is some latitude since we know what the ultimate goal is, and barring any third-party surprises, everything should go according to plan. You. Me. A Fuck.
It’s a Friday, late into the evening, deep into a Pacific Northwest fall day. Not quite cold enough to warrant wearing a coat, but there is still a chill in the night air. You are walking back to your car wearing just a silk white blouse, skirt, and your favorite Louboutins. Flushed with a couple of dirty martinis, you don’t feel the cold anymore, although your skin has goosebumps, and the pace of your heels clicking along the sidewalk quickens as you feel a shiver run up your spine.
That shiver is me. I’m hiding in the shadows, waiting for you. We didn’t specify where I would interrupt you, so there is a certain amount of adrenaline flowing through your veins in anticipation. It’s going to happen soon. The car is just around the corner.
As quickly as this thought enters your mind, you feel me grab your arm and pull you quickly into a darkened doorway. Hidden from view, I kiss your lips, pushing myself against your taught body. For a moment, you aren’t sure it’s me; the kiss is so utterly different. Hard and aggressive, if it were not for my scent, you would think it were another man.
You push back against me, kissing me violently, biting my lip so hard it draws blood. I flinch at the pain and instinctively push you hard against the brick wall, reach under your short skirt, and between your legs. You are wet, beautifully wet, and open for my fingers. I kiss your neck, reciprocating the bite, and finger fuck you hard in this dark alcove of lust and passion.
The plan was just to finger you, make out a lot, and finish fucking at home. But you can’t hold back; the taste of my blood has turned you into some animal. I feel you undo my jeans and pull out my hard cock. With little hesitation, you pull me inside you, and with a leg wrapped around my ass, hands on your ass, I fuck you.
It’s as if I’m trying to break the wall with your body; I’m overcome with the need to slam myself repeatedly into your pussy. With each thrust, you get tighter and tighter, and I feel close to cumming. I reach up and pull a fistful of your hair back, and bite your neck hard. My hands under your blouse, holding your breasts fast. With a subtle tilt of your hips, my cock hits your G-spot, and you ride me until your orgasm takes over.
Hearing your climax and the slight scream from your lips as you finally cum, takes me over the edge too. And my semen floods inside you, my cock pulsing so powerfully like never before. We are disheveled; clothes are misplaced, there will be cuts and bruises to attend to later. But the objective was achieved, and I enjoyed it far more than I thought. To kiss you hard, to fuck you harder. The small scream of your orgasm. This is what our love is. Complete.
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