"if i'm bothering to get naked with someone, there had better be touching. so it's more the latter, mixed with just kinda performing for one another. it's fun to watch someone masturbate on camera, performing for you. you get to see how their face changes when they feel exquisite."
she pauses. takes a drink from her water glass, then leans forward; she's engaging me, she wants me to absorb this.
"it's even more fun to watch them do it in person. it feels secret, it's different than being up close and touching someone, you get to watch them pleasure themselves and yeah.. help, maybe.. but it's not required, it's almost more fun if you don't there's that feeling of bareness and people tend to be more shy if you're not close together or movements may initially be a little guarded or not. but you feel it building in you. it's amazing. for those moments you're so absorbed in your pleasure that you're beyond unaware, there is just that one thing, filling you up to the point that you're going to burst. it's beautiful. le petite mort - the French have it right, sometimes i've felt like i was dying. but not in a terrible or frightening way, it feels so good to die that way. it feels like part of my soul leaks out into the world and is lost to me forever. it's worth it, but you feel it leaving."
she looks up at me then, her green eyes somewhere in the space between us. she felt too far away from me, like i could never be close enough, then that was always her, just out of my reach. untouchable, even if i devoured every inch of her. i haven't seen her in a year, she looks positively fuckable, but then, she always was. she had this amazing ability to turn any conversation into a conversation about sex and she made it intense and enjoyable on an over-exposed scale.
"speaking of leaving." i finally find my voice. "why did you stop coming round? why did you stop calling?" i closed my mouth and lean back, crossing my ankle over my knee.
her brow furrowed as she sat back at her usual relaxed position, which meant feet angled straight below the knees, hands on the knees, looking like she could stand up and walk out at any moment. she squinted at me then, like she always used to do, almost a shrewd look, if it weren't for the dimples in her cheeks when she did it. i want to kiss her.
"i took it personally when you no longer wanted to eat my cunt and fuck me silly." her lips stretch out in smug little smile that doesn't touch her eyes. she had me, right where she wanted me.
"there's that brutal honesty."
Her left eyebrow raises and half the smile disappears. "if you want the answer, ask. if you want a lie, don't ask me."
"a little tact wouldn't hurt."
"you always did want to change me."
i could feel the pain surface on my face. she is such a cunt, she is such a fucking cunt to me. always.
"i tried kindness, you fell in love with me."
"you broke my heart."
"you broke your own god damned heart." with that, she stands and snatches her bag off the couch. "had i known this was going to be a blame game or some sort of closure party, i would have opted out." she starts searching through her bag, brings out a pack of cigarettes, menthols and a lighter, she tosses the bag back on the couch and walks to the front door.
i'm shocked that she's not running out; i try to figure out her angle. i watch as she leans on the open door frame, smoking her cigarette. the woman was always out of my league. and she was right, i did break my own heart, she was the rock that i bashed myself against. she'd told me from the beginning that she couldn't love me, i was a fool for thinking i could change that. she knows i'm staring at her, staring at her tits, her shoulders leaning against the frame, her legs out in front of her, back arched slightly. everything about her screams "fuck me".
"i hate you." i whisper. she closes the front door; her back against it, looking at me for a long moment our eyes are locked. she pushes off and saunters forward, there really is no other way to explain the way she moves, when she wants to move. it all comes flooding back to me, what she's capable of, the sounds she makes, the way her body moves in such a delicious rhythm. she stops in front of me, i'm staring up at her, resisting the urge to grab her and sit her on my lap. she bends forward and runs her hands up my thighs stopping at their center, her face less than a foot away from my own, her breath smells sweet, despite the cigarette she just smoked.
"you want to know what i miss about you?" her tongue curls at the corner of her mouth, waiting for the inevitable yes.
"what's that then?" i don't know what to expect as an answer, we were together for years, it could be anything.
"the way you made me come. you were tireless in your pursuit, you'd lick and suck and finger my cunt for hours, if that's what it took, it never did - you were good at it." she leans in further, like she's going to kiss me, but she doesn't, instead her lips graze the side of my neck, raising gooseflesh. then she whispers in my ear. "you were always such a good dog... how does it feel? to hate me? it feels better than loving me, doesn't it." i feel the blood pulse in my cock, as it stiffens. i feel her hands leave my thighs and her right lightly caresses the crotch of my jeans, i close my eyes and swallow hard. when i open them, she's gone.
~
i can hear him thinking
"alright, you want to play?"
i hear his voice rise just above conversation level. i try not to breathe. i try not to quiver. i try not to shudder in anticipation.
"ready or not..."
his voice trails off, he's on the hunt now, there will be no more sound from him, his breathing is silent, his step is light. i know he hates me, but i know he lives for this. it was always a shame that i had to goad him into playing. the guilt he felt after always sank him into a depression, but when the kill was fresh, the blood lust was powerful and unstoppable. an inner demon released not upon the world.. just me. the interesting part of all of this, for me - i'm relatively sure he viewed it as grudge fucking blended with make-up sex. men fuck better when they have something to prove. my little puppy was no exception. it is sometimes just a matter of taking away the toy and holding it just out of reach, in this case out of reach was another country and several years. i don't love him, i don't think i ever did. i loved the fucking. i know that he loved me though, i remember feeling that morph in effort. it went from just sex, to him making love to me. i hated it. i hated him for it. i wanted the fucking to go on forever. i wanted to feel used, violated, i wanted it to be a perpetual machine of desire, wanting, craving. sure, you can touch me, hug me, cuddle me, but turn it into something filthy. molest me while you're tender. brutalize me. objectify me. i am not a woman to be treasured for my thoughts, my abilities, my depth and emotion. i am a vessel. fill me up. i am a cunt. don't appreciate the color of my eyes or the curl in my hair. devour me. fuck every orifice savagely. make me beg you to stop. turn me into that cowering little girl in the back of the tool shed.
i close my eyes, my nipples hard, my cunt wet. dripping. i feel the slick warmth on my inner thigh, before i can stop myself, my left hand traces the curve of my hip and my middle finger slides between my moist lips and strokes a familiar spot. i bite my lower lip and hold my breath. not long now.
i feel the suction of air from a door opening, it pulls the fine hairs on my arms forward, i'm just aware enough to feel it. i feel the stillness close in around me. i open my eyes again, darkness - ill defined dark purple to black morphing liquid shapes - constant movement. nothingness or so i would believe, if not for the heat i feel, radiating in the shape of a tall man. i can smell his nakedness, i know he's there, my pulse prevents me from hearing him - but it's the absence of sound, that space filled, that air muffled - that gives him away. i inhale. he reaches out, his hand an inch away from my throat, i feel the heat of his hand, like a necklace. i know that he can feel my pulse - he can feel my shape, my body taking up space in front of him. i exhale, i feel his hand draw away and then it drives forward and lands across my cheek with a loud crack, my head jerking to the left with his follow through, my jaw aches, the tears spring into my eyes. i taste copper and realize that i bit the inside of my mouth. i glare into the heat in front of me, my eyes level with his throat. my cunt contracts and my knees buckle, delayed reaction of my body catching up with the insult.
"found you, whore." he whispers.
~
i flip the light on in the closest - i want to see her; what she's possibly done to herself because she always does stuff to herself when she gets like this. she's naked, her hand tucked neatly between her thighs, staring at me, her right cheek is red - i can see my hand print - she has tears in her eyes but they haven't fallen, just turned her eyes into emeralds. she's a mixture of shocked, excited and insulted - i've never hit her before. i gently take the hand that's nestled between her legs and turn it palm up and kiss it. then make to lead her out of the closet, she puts on full reverse and yanks her hand out of mine.
"NO!" she shouts at me, her face morphing into that of a six year old child.
"No?" i cock my head to the right, giving her the chance to think i didn't hear her.
"here." she quickly adds, her lip trembling, a tear rolls down her reddened cheek.
"come on..." i step forward to take her hand again, she draws away quickly.. i let out a sigh. "OK." i take another step forward, clench my fist and hit her squarely in the solar plexus - she goes down, gasping and sobbing, i grab her by the ankle and drag her from the closet. "why do we have to go through this every. single. time. please note - this is a rhetorical question darling." one last hard fling and her body squeaks across the parkay flooring. "by the way, i'm so glad you won the argument for the hard wood floor in the bedroom, i know i worried about my feet getting cold, but seeing you slide across the room just now... if you'd have been on a throw rug, i think i could have gotten you to the end of the room - it's a bit like curling." i stop myself from giggling, i don't want to become giddy, yet. she's gasping, i stand over her for a few seconds, letting her catch her breath... then i bend down. "are you trying to say something dearest?" i squat down next to her, gathering a handful of hair - i pull slightly to gain attention.
"please." one mississippi. "don't." two mississippi. "stop." she closes her eyes.
"don't you worry darling, i have no intention of stopping. ever." she lets out the most pitiful sob i have ever heard - my erection throbs. i push her over onto her back, her legs fall open for me, i'm immediately between them, shoving myself in - she's wet, but she hasn't come yet, so she's perfect. i bend forward, nipping each of her nipples hard - she gasps, her head is turned to the right, i go right for the sweet spot - her neck, right below her ear; biting, licking, kissing and then sucking in her earlobe. she rewards me with her mouth, savage kisses and bites. she moves her hips against me, i lean in, crushing her, preventing her from fucking me. "beg me." she gasps again and licks my face, my lips, nibbles my chin. i take my hands and hold her face still, looking in her eyes. "cunt. do what you're told." she stops, her green eyes on fire with defiance, unable to move her hips, unable to move her face, unwilling to hit me and divinely horny enough to lack the power of speech. i fuck her hard; once, twice, thrice - her breath exhaling sharply with each thrust. "hmm?" i smile as her eyes roll back in her head.
"please. please. mmmmmm please fuck me daddy, i've missed you." at that, i let loose on years of frustration with the woman, fucking her so hard that her ass is squeaking against the wood floor that she insisted on, my hands wrapped up around her shoulders for leverage, her legs swing up and around my waist, she crosses her ankles, her mouth open, her warm, sweet breath panting in my face, she's beautiful, evil, scarily intelligent and completely insane. her tits, oh her tits are so soft and real and pale and i want to bite them and beat them and fuck them. they're pressed up against my chest now, i want to devour her neck and fuck every single part of her, i want her dead and the thought of ever being without her makes me want to kill her all over again. i roll over and drag her on top of me, a position she hates and loves to hate - she adapts this time, throwing her head back and grinding her hips into me. i run my hands up her ribcage and grab onto her breasts, pushing them together and letting them fall, seeing them bounce up and down as she fucks me, i start to slap them and pinch her nipples, holding them and then pulling her down to me, i let them go and grab the back of her neck - kissing her again. she screams in my face as her cunt spasms and contracts, releasing a rush of warm slick fluid - i know my own isn't far off - i grab her at her biceps and fuck her from beneath, with each thrust i feel her juices leak out onto me. she squeezes down each time i pull out, it feels like she's trying to pull me back in. i'm staring down at her tits, bouncing in my face, her rosy nipples erect - little pink mounds on top of big, round white ones. i let my eyes wander to her neck; delicate, white - save the red marks from where i'd bitten her - my balls start to tighten up, the slapping of her wet cunt and thighs against my hips is driving me on, the rhythm so even - so perfect, like her - in all of her imperfections. i flood into her, the violence in me, my hate going with it. i thrust a few more times, each one less than the one before - she's right, little bits of me dying and floating away somewhere in the universe, a slight undoing. i let go of her arms, she lies on top of me, her arms tucking under my own - which i simply wrap around her, she's crying anyway.
she pauses. takes a drink from her water glass, then leans forward; she's engaging me, she wants me to absorb this.
"it's even more fun to watch them do it in person. it feels secret, it's different than being up close and touching someone, you get to watch them pleasure themselves and yeah.. help, maybe.. but it's not required, it's almost more fun if you don't there's that feeling of bareness and people tend to be more shy if you're not close together or movements may initially be a little guarded or not. but you feel it building in you. it's amazing. for those moments you're so absorbed in your pleasure that you're beyond unaware, there is just that one thing, filling you up to the point that you're going to burst. it's beautiful. le petite mort - the French have it right, sometimes i've felt like i was dying. but not in a terrible or frightening way, it feels so good to die that way. it feels like part of my soul leaks out into the world and is lost to me forever. it's worth it, but you feel it leaving."
she looks up at me then, her green eyes somewhere in the space between us. she felt too far away from me, like i could never be close enough, then that was always her, just out of my reach. untouchable, even if i devoured every inch of her. i haven't seen her in a year, she looks positively fuckable, but then, she always was. she had this amazing ability to turn any conversation into a conversation about sex and she made it intense and enjoyable on an over-exposed scale.
"speaking of leaving." i finally find my voice. "why did you stop coming round? why did you stop calling?" i closed my mouth and lean back, crossing my ankle over my knee.
her brow furrowed as she sat back at her usual relaxed position, which meant feet angled straight below the knees, hands on the knees, looking like she could stand up and walk out at any moment. she squinted at me then, like she always used to do, almost a shrewd look, if it weren't for the dimples in her cheeks when she did it. i want to kiss her.
"i took it personally when you no longer wanted to eat my cunt and fuck me silly." her lips stretch out in smug little smile that doesn't touch her eyes. she had me, right where she wanted me.
"there's that brutal honesty."
Her left eyebrow raises and half the smile disappears. "if you want the answer, ask. if you want a lie, don't ask me."
"a little tact wouldn't hurt."
"you always did want to change me."
i could feel the pain surface on my face. she is such a cunt, she is such a fucking cunt to me. always.
"i tried kindness, you fell in love with me."
"you broke my heart."
"you broke your own god damned heart." with that, she stands and snatches her bag off the couch. "had i known this was going to be a blame game or some sort of closure party, i would have opted out." she starts searching through her bag, brings out a pack of cigarettes, menthols and a lighter, she tosses the bag back on the couch and walks to the front door.
i'm shocked that she's not running out; i try to figure out her angle. i watch as she leans on the open door frame, smoking her cigarette. the woman was always out of my league. and she was right, i did break my own heart, she was the rock that i bashed myself against. she'd told me from the beginning that she couldn't love me, i was a fool for thinking i could change that. she knows i'm staring at her, staring at her tits, her shoulders leaning against the frame, her legs out in front of her, back arched slightly. everything about her screams "fuck me".
"i hate you." i whisper. she closes the front door; her back against it, looking at me for a long moment our eyes are locked. she pushes off and saunters forward, there really is no other way to explain the way she moves, when she wants to move. it all comes flooding back to me, what she's capable of, the sounds she makes, the way her body moves in such a delicious rhythm. she stops in front of me, i'm staring up at her, resisting the urge to grab her and sit her on my lap. she bends forward and runs her hands up my thighs stopping at their center, her face less than a foot away from my own, her breath smells sweet, despite the cigarette she just smoked.
"you want to know what i miss about you?" her tongue curls at the corner of her mouth, waiting for the inevitable yes.
"what's that then?" i don't know what to expect as an answer, we were together for years, it could be anything.
"the way you made me come. you were tireless in your pursuit, you'd lick and suck and finger my cunt for hours, if that's what it took, it never did - you were good at it." she leans in further, like she's going to kiss me, but she doesn't, instead her lips graze the side of my neck, raising gooseflesh. then she whispers in my ear. "you were always such a good dog... how does it feel? to hate me? it feels better than loving me, doesn't it." i feel the blood pulse in my cock, as it stiffens. i feel her hands leave my thighs and her right lightly caresses the crotch of my jeans, i close my eyes and swallow hard. when i open them, she's gone.
~
i can hear him thinking
"alright, you want to play?"
i hear his voice rise just above conversation level. i try not to breathe. i try not to quiver. i try not to shudder in anticipation.
"ready or not..."
his voice trails off, he's on the hunt now, there will be no more sound from him, his breathing is silent, his step is light. i know he hates me, but i know he lives for this. it was always a shame that i had to goad him into playing. the guilt he felt after always sank him into a depression, but when the kill was fresh, the blood lust was powerful and unstoppable. an inner demon released not upon the world.. just me. the interesting part of all of this, for me - i'm relatively sure he viewed it as grudge fucking blended with make-up sex. men fuck better when they have something to prove. my little puppy was no exception. it is sometimes just a matter of taking away the toy and holding it just out of reach, in this case out of reach was another country and several years. i don't love him, i don't think i ever did. i loved the fucking. i know that he loved me though, i remember feeling that morph in effort. it went from just sex, to him making love to me. i hated it. i hated him for it. i wanted the fucking to go on forever. i wanted to feel used, violated, i wanted it to be a perpetual machine of desire, wanting, craving. sure, you can touch me, hug me, cuddle me, but turn it into something filthy. molest me while you're tender. brutalize me. objectify me. i am not a woman to be treasured for my thoughts, my abilities, my depth and emotion. i am a vessel. fill me up. i am a cunt. don't appreciate the color of my eyes or the curl in my hair. devour me. fuck every orifice savagely. make me beg you to stop. turn me into that cowering little girl in the back of the tool shed.
i close my eyes, my nipples hard, my cunt wet. dripping. i feel the slick warmth on my inner thigh, before i can stop myself, my left hand traces the curve of my hip and my middle finger slides between my moist lips and strokes a familiar spot. i bite my lower lip and hold my breath. not long now.
i feel the suction of air from a door opening, it pulls the fine hairs on my arms forward, i'm just aware enough to feel it. i feel the stillness close in around me. i open my eyes again, darkness - ill defined dark purple to black morphing liquid shapes - constant movement. nothingness or so i would believe, if not for the heat i feel, radiating in the shape of a tall man. i can smell his nakedness, i know he's there, my pulse prevents me from hearing him - but it's the absence of sound, that space filled, that air muffled - that gives him away. i inhale. he reaches out, his hand an inch away from my throat, i feel the heat of his hand, like a necklace. i know that he can feel my pulse - he can feel my shape, my body taking up space in front of him. i exhale, i feel his hand draw away and then it drives forward and lands across my cheek with a loud crack, my head jerking to the left with his follow through, my jaw aches, the tears spring into my eyes. i taste copper and realize that i bit the inside of my mouth. i glare into the heat in front of me, my eyes level with his throat. my cunt contracts and my knees buckle, delayed reaction of my body catching up with the insult.
"found you, whore." he whispers.
~
i flip the light on in the closest - i want to see her; what she's possibly done to herself because she always does stuff to herself when she gets like this. she's naked, her hand tucked neatly between her thighs, staring at me, her right cheek is red - i can see my hand print - she has tears in her eyes but they haven't fallen, just turned her eyes into emeralds. she's a mixture of shocked, excited and insulted - i've never hit her before. i gently take the hand that's nestled between her legs and turn it palm up and kiss it. then make to lead her out of the closet, she puts on full reverse and yanks her hand out of mine.
"NO!" she shouts at me, her face morphing into that of a six year old child.
"No?" i cock my head to the right, giving her the chance to think i didn't hear her.
"here." she quickly adds, her lip trembling, a tear rolls down her reddened cheek.
"come on..." i step forward to take her hand again, she draws away quickly.. i let out a sigh. "OK." i take another step forward, clench my fist and hit her squarely in the solar plexus - she goes down, gasping and sobbing, i grab her by the ankle and drag her from the closet. "why do we have to go through this every. single. time. please note - this is a rhetorical question darling." one last hard fling and her body squeaks across the parkay flooring. "by the way, i'm so glad you won the argument for the hard wood floor in the bedroom, i know i worried about my feet getting cold, but seeing you slide across the room just now... if you'd have been on a throw rug, i think i could have gotten you to the end of the room - it's a bit like curling." i stop myself from giggling, i don't want to become giddy, yet. she's gasping, i stand over her for a few seconds, letting her catch her breath... then i bend down. "are you trying to say something dearest?" i squat down next to her, gathering a handful of hair - i pull slightly to gain attention.
"please." one mississippi. "don't." two mississippi. "stop." she closes her eyes.
"don't you worry darling, i have no intention of stopping. ever." she lets out the most pitiful sob i have ever heard - my erection throbs. i push her over onto her back, her legs fall open for me, i'm immediately between them, shoving myself in - she's wet, but she hasn't come yet, so she's perfect. i bend forward, nipping each of her nipples hard - she gasps, her head is turned to the right, i go right for the sweet spot - her neck, right below her ear; biting, licking, kissing and then sucking in her earlobe. she rewards me with her mouth, savage kisses and bites. she moves her hips against me, i lean in, crushing her, preventing her from fucking me. "beg me." she gasps again and licks my face, my lips, nibbles my chin. i take my hands and hold her face still, looking in her eyes. "cunt. do what you're told." she stops, her green eyes on fire with defiance, unable to move her hips, unable to move her face, unwilling to hit me and divinely horny enough to lack the power of speech. i fuck her hard; once, twice, thrice - her breath exhaling sharply with each thrust. "hmm?" i smile as her eyes roll back in her head.
"please. please. mmmmmm please fuck me daddy, i've missed you." at that, i let loose on years of frustration with the woman, fucking her so hard that her ass is squeaking against the wood floor that she insisted on, my hands wrapped up around her shoulders for leverage, her legs swing up and around my waist, she crosses her ankles, her mouth open, her warm, sweet breath panting in my face, she's beautiful, evil, scarily intelligent and completely insane. her tits, oh her tits are so soft and real and pale and i want to bite them and beat them and fuck them. they're pressed up against my chest now, i want to devour her neck and fuck every single part of her, i want her dead and the thought of ever being without her makes me want to kill her all over again. i roll over and drag her on top of me, a position she hates and loves to hate - she adapts this time, throwing her head back and grinding her hips into me. i run my hands up her ribcage and grab onto her breasts, pushing them together and letting them fall, seeing them bounce up and down as she fucks me, i start to slap them and pinch her nipples, holding them and then pulling her down to me, i let them go and grab the back of her neck - kissing her again. she screams in my face as her cunt spasms and contracts, releasing a rush of warm slick fluid - i know my own isn't far off - i grab her at her biceps and fuck her from beneath, with each thrust i feel her juices leak out onto me. she squeezes down each time i pull out, it feels like she's trying to pull me back in. i'm staring down at her tits, bouncing in my face, her rosy nipples erect - little pink mounds on top of big, round white ones. i let my eyes wander to her neck; delicate, white - save the red marks from where i'd bitten her - my balls start to tighten up, the slapping of her wet cunt and thighs against my hips is driving me on, the rhythm so even - so perfect, like her - in all of her imperfections. i flood into her, the violence in me, my hate going with it. i thrust a few more times, each one less than the one before - she's right, little bits of me dying and floating away somewhere in the universe, a slight undoing. i let go of her arms, she lies on top of me, her arms tucking under my own - which i simply wrap around her, she's crying anyway.
