“Did I say you could get so wet?” I felt spit fly off my lips when I said it. We’d been wrestling. Chasing each other around the house. I’d finally caught her in the living room and shoved her ass onto the tiny couch. Her forehead was under my hand. Her head pressed against the wall. She was wearing shorts and I’d shoved my thumb under the fabric to feel her pussy. Wet. She was very wet. I gripped her soaked panties. My hand jammed between her legs. I squeezed her pussy. She winced. She shook her head quickly back and forth and mouthed her answer to me, “No,” but the sound of her words never came out. She was breathing in, not out. She was sucking the word inside her, “No. No. No. No. No.” Her eyes were squeezed shut and big, wet tears bloomed on her eyelashes. “No,” I said calmly, “No, I didn’t. You’re right. You better go clean yourself up.” She was panting so rapidly that I felt real concern. I’d been playing with her like a cat with a mouse. Catching her, being cruel for a moment, letting her go again. These were the first tears. And now she was panting. When she opened her eyes to look at me, they were open so wide. Shock.
I shoved her pussy away from me and walked out of the bedroom to go make myself another drink. I listened to the water running in the bathroom. “Wash your pussy for me,” I thought, “Pat yourself dry and we’ll begin again.” The ice cubes rattled in my glass as I carried it over to the bar. I poured a double. Whiskey. I let it roll around in my mouth. Imagined the taste of it on her tongue. I closed my eyes and remembered the night before with her dirty martini and my bourbon and the cigarette we passed back and forth before sucking on each other’s tongues for nearly half an hour. I’ve never wanted to make out with a girl for so long before. I could suck on her mouth for days.
I thought I heard her sobbing in the bathroom. I whispered to myself, “Take your time, baby. Get it together.” She’s so good. She’s so damn good. She gets wet so easily. She comes so hard. I needed her to be good tonight. I needed to show her what I wanted. I needed to fuck her just the way I liked it.
“Are you done in there yet?” I yelled. I pressed myself against the bathroom door, pushing against it. I put my lips up against the wood and whispered to her, “I want you back out here. There’s more to do.” She opened the door and I turned away from her. I sat down on the little couch, letting my knees fall open wide. “What do I want?” I asked. She looked at me. She got down on her knees and reached her hand to my shirt buttons. I slapped her away. Her fingers moved to my belt buckle. I slapped her away again. She leaned back and cocked her head, staring at me, trying to figure me out. I looked back at her with no expression, silent. She grabbed the low cut v neck on her shirt and yanked it down along with her bra, exposing her tits for me. I nodded at her and parted my lips, “Uh huh.” She rubbed her nipples with her flat palms, her fingers held stiff. She pulled her fingers slowly across her flesh and flicked at the soft curves, stiffening her nipples, reacting to the sharp feeling. I grabbed my crotch and tugged at my jeans. My cunt felt her, wanted her now. Her eyes darted down to my belt.
She tugged at the waist of my jeans. “No,” I said, “You can’t take anything off.” Her eyed darted up to me, flashing annoyance, but she nodded. She pulled on the backs of my knees and slid me to the edge of my chair. She rubbed hard in the hollow of my hips with her thumbs, pushing my legs wider apart. She buried her face between my legs and I felt her hot breath come through my jeans. “Jesus,” I whispered, caught off guard. She was eating my pussy through my jeans. I could feel everything. Her teeth pulled on me. She was letting her spit soak through. Her wet mouth met my suddenly very wet cunt through the layers of fabric. I gripped the arms of this tiny, rickety couch, “Holy fuck,” I let out. I wasn’t expecting her to turn the tables like this. I wasn’t ready, but Jesus she felt so good on me. I forgot everything for a minute. Just for a minute. I felt my pussy opening for her and I snapped back to my plan. I needed her to be mine tonight.
I grabbed her throat and stood up, pulling her off her knees and onto the couch. I gripped her throat tight, her hands flew up to my arm and pulled but I kept my grip tight. She stared into my eyes. That look. That wet, wide-eyed look that says in a shaky little voice, “I trust you right now. I trust you.” I stared at her. I was breathing hard. I felt sweat on my face. I pressed my forehead against hers and stared. Both our faces were wet with sweat. “I’m going to take care of you, baby,” I said to her, “I’m right here. Right here, tonight.” She nodded and turned her head a little to the side. I kept my forehead pressed against her, now on her temple and her damp hair. “I need you to do something for me now,” I said, “Put your hands behind your neck and lace your fingers together.” I waited for her hands to move into place. “Okay,” I said, “Like that. Can you be still for me?” She nodded. I didn’t hear any sound from her. I stood up and waited for a minute, watching her sit still, watching her hold herself stiff for me. “I’ll be back.” I said, walking away.
In her bathroom, I took my jeans off and buckled on my largest cock. She normally wants just one finger inside her. I’m not cruel. I don’t what possessed me, but somehow I wanted a big dick inside her tonight. My biggest. Maybe I got mean because we were so sweet together. Maybe I needed to know something more. I wanted to fuck like that. Pushing each other. We’d spent all day, all day playing. Sucking on each other. Napping. I’d spent hours with my face in her pussy. She can come again and again and again a thousand times with no stopping. I’d dreamed of this woman before I knew her. I fuck her like I know. She fucks me… well, I can’t even say it. Not yet. That comes later. That’s a different story. But I’ll tell you that I let her hold me in her lap and undress me like a girl. I let her finger me and suck me and fuck me all night. I let her watch me stretch long, my back curved off the bed. I let her see me buck in a bleary haze. I don’t know what she sees exactly, but she sees me come.
I pulled my jeans back up and held my cock in my hand. I went back to her. Her hands were in place. Her eyes were open but looking down to her lap. I gripped her cheeks and pressed my thumb and fingers into her flesh. “Look at me,” I said. She did. “Slide your hands up above your head. Keep them against the wall.” She did that too. I pulled her shirt over her head and off. I unhooked her bra and threw it on the floor. I pulled her boots off and let them drop with a thud onto the hardwood. I snatched at her shorts and panties and jerked them both down to her ankles, leaving them there for her to kick away. I looked up. Her hands were still above her head against the plaster. “Good,” I whispered. I gripped both her wrists in one hand and gripped her cheeks again in the other. “I want to fuck you so deep tonight,” I said. I pressed the cock up against her pussy. I pushed the tip inside her, not yet wet enough. She made a tiny, pained sound. She stared at me. Sweetly, so sweetly, she asked “Do you want to hurt me?” I answered “No,” out of habit and kissed her mouth hard. I pushed against her and heard her the sound of her head rubbing hard on the wall. Then I looked at her. “No. I do,” I said, “I do want to hurt you. I want you to feel this. I do. This might hurt.”
She nodded at me. Serious. “Okay,” she said. It sounded funny, that okay, but it was just right. “I want you to fuck me the way you want,” she said. Her cheeks blushed a deep crimson as she spoke. “I want you to show me how you like it,” she whispered. It was like a starter gun had been fired next to us. I slapped her face hard. Once, twice, again. I kept slapping her. I’d slap her. Stop. Stare at her. She’d nod. And I’d slap her again. After a dozen or so hard slaps, I reached down to my cock and held it up against her pussy again. I shoved her shoulders back. I gripped her neck. I shoved her in these tiny ways that made her jerk and stutter. I knelt down into a squat and slid the tip of my cock deeper inside her and back out. I spat in my hand several times and rubbed it on my cock before moving inside her again. Just the tip. Just the head. Her face registered the girth. We’d have to move off the couch to fuck. But I wanted her to feel this right now. I wanted her unsure.
I grabbed the back of her neck and lifted her up. She pulled on me as she stood, her hands climbed me like a ladder. With her hands on my shoulders, I dragged her over to the bed and shoved her across it face down. I grabbed the lube and poured a sizable amount into my hand. I rubbed her pussy and my cock and wiped my hand on my thigh. I held my cock between her legs. “You’re going to have to come to me,” I said. She fell back onto her knees and rubbed me up and down. I saw her legs shake. I pet her back. We were slow right now. Soft. Easing our way into it. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she said, “I’ve always had a small pussy. But I want it. I do want it.” I pushed hard against her. “You can do this, baby,” I told her. I fucked her with the tip of my cock. Slow. I felt her burn. I saw her back glow red. The room grew hot. She dripped sweat onto the sheets. My shirt, still on me, was stuck to my back and sides. My jeans were tugged down to my knees, binding me. I pulled my shirt off and then pushed her head down against the mattress, her face in the tangle of sheets. “You can do this,” I said.
“Get on top of me,” I told her and pulled myself onto the bed, tugging my jeans off. She threw one leg over me and looked down at my cock. I held it. She stared at me as she pushed her pussy down onto it. I watched the long, thick shaft disappear inside her as her eyes grew wide. She gasped and held her hands to her chest. Looking at the scene, it seemed simple. Here she was lowering herself onto my cock. I was just lying there beneath her, staring into her eyes. Innocent. Sweet. But I knew this was hard. She felt too little for this and here she was with the full length of my shaft inside her. “Can you feel how deep you are inside me?” she asked. I thought there were tears in her eyes. I nodded. “I feel you pulling on me,” I said, “I want it to hurt. I want the pain to make it last longer.” She blinked. Her mouth was open wide. She was moving slowly up and down on my cock. I stared at her. I waited. Then I jammed my hips upwards, shoving deep into her. She winced. I slapped at her tit. I slapped hard. Her hands moved to protect her and I stopped. “Put your hands on your thighs,” I said, “Keep them there.”
I went back to slapping her. I slapped one tit and then the other. I held each tit steady, one at a time, and slapped it hard. I slapped at her nipples. I stopped to pinch them. And all the while, I jammed my cock hard inside her. Hard. Again and again. She winced. She shook her head. She moved her lips with no sound coming out. She stared at me with a scared little, soft little look on her face. “You can go there,” I said, “I want you to go wherever you need to go.” She stared at me. She nodded and started to cry. I heard this tiny voice inside her say, “Uh huh.” I slapped her tits again and again. “I’m right here,” I said, “You can feel me.” She pulled one hand up to her forehead like a woman with a migraine. I let her leave it.
I don’t know how many times I hit her, but my arms were burning, my shoulders ached. She curved her body over me and wrapped her arms around me. All her weight settled onto me and I pulled my legs up to push as deep as I could inside her. This was good. I could tell it felt good. I sensed her starting to cry harder. I clamped my hand over her mouth and my words streamed out, “I want you to come to me, baby. I want you to show me how much you can take. I want you to go where you need to go and come back to me. I’m so deep inside you right now. We’re bruised. Both of us bruised. I can feel it. Can you feel it?” She was nodding as I spoke. Nodding and whimpering “Mmm hmm” under my hand. As we rocked into each other harder, pounding, she was whimpering, a high pitched moan. I felt her teeth and her spit. Her open mouth on my palm. “Do you need to bite my hand?” I asked and turned my hand sideways, offering it to her. She clamped down with her teeth and the pain shot through me. It thought she’d cut the skin. I imagined the gentle partner offering a hand to the laboring wife during childbirth and finding the grip unbearable. But you stay put. You let her transfer pain to you. You let her ease herself through you. I knew this hurt her. I heard her cry out with it. But I knew it felt so good, too. I knew she surprised herself. She was nodding her head and gnawing on my hand.
When she came, her noises were unrecognizable and tears streamed down her cheeks. I left my hand in her mouth but her teeth let go of me. I kept my hips raised with my cock deep inside her. I felt her pussy throb around it. I felt her tears on my neck. I held her so tight. I pulled out of her and she rolled me onto my back. “Press me down,” she said, “Press me down as hard as you can.” I lifted myself up and balanced my full weight on her. I held her. We were soaked in sweat and now shivering from the cool breeze coming in through the window.
We fell asleep soon after. I wasn’t sure if anything had hurt much. I wasn’t sure if she’d gone anywhere too far away before she came back again. But we slept deeply together that night. I woke early and put my hand on her chest but she jerked, saying, “No,” and I pulled it away again. She was dreaming. Something. She wanted something to go away. I rolled over and fell back asleep. She woke me in the morning with kisses on my neck. “I’ve got something to show you,” she whispered, giddy. I rolled over and she held her breast in my face. It was almost entirely purple. One big bruise. It was a little shocking, but so damn hot. She told me not to flatter myself, “I bruise easy,” she said. But still, it felt good to see it. I don’t know why. I don’t know what that feeling of pride was in having hurt her. “Is your pussy sore?” I asked. She answered me with a slow, wet kiss. Long and slow to start me up.
A few minutes later, I was buried in her thighs with a single finger dragging the walls of her pussy wondering how many times she could come for me this morning. Her words repeated themselves in my brain, “I bruise easy.” I’d never wanted to bruise a woman before. I’d done it, but for her pleasure and not mine. I’d never desired it. I’d never wanted to hit her and hurt her and fuck her so hard. But when this is right. When this is what takes you there. When you see that release and the peace that comes. You want nothing more than to make it happen for her and see that bloom under her skin. You want it to be there a few days later when you’re out for coffee. You’ll pull the picture of her bruises up in your mind and tenderly caress them before putting them away to focus once again on whatever it is you’re supposed to be doing. You’ll know her. You’ll know something deep and true about her that can never be described or explained or even understood. But it doesn’t matter. You’ll just know.
