The Sex I Needed

Photo courtesy of Single Chair.

A while back I wrote this about the sex I wanted. He read it. And then this is what happened.

***

"I'm game, but I'm not really into it tonight," I said.

"Good. So we'll do it my way." And with that he grabbed my arm, spun me around and pushed me face first into the bed. He held my arm twisted behind my back so it was just painful enough and began to push my dress up around my hips. His weight pushed my arm hard against my back, driving me into the bed, my head turned at an angle so I wouldn't smother.

With his other hand he pulled my black lace thong down my legs but not off. It rested somewhere along my thighs, preventing my legs from spreading too wide. He had me pinned and trussed.

He roughly dragged his fingers over my pussy, prying my lips open and pressing against my wet cunt. Pushing deep inside me, he fucked me harder and faster than he ever does at the very beginning of a tryst. I gushed and whimpered and took everything he offered. Every so often he'd push my twisted arm harder into my back, reminding me of my predicament. He shoved his fingers up to my face and wiped my come over my cheek and lips before jamming them into my mouth and commanding me to suck.

He pushed and fingered and teased and spanked and made me come before he slid his cock into me and fucked me hard against the bed. My panties slid down my legs and I pulled a knee up onto the edge of the bed, opening myself for him to push harder and deeper. I couldn't stay quiet. The sounds that erupted from me were equal parts lust and anguish. I loved what he was doing to me, but at the same time I felt an exhilaration that I was just a little bit trapped.

His hard, fast fucking drew my wetness out and down the insides of my thighs. I could feel the slick juice become sticky as he continued pounding me. I know he called me dirty names and otherwise used words to degrade me just a little bit. I can't remember them, but his whispers made me beg.

Pulling out, he flipped me over, straddled my chest and shoved his glistening cock into my mouth, choking me with his length and strength until my eyes watered and I gagged. He gave me a moment's respite and then gagged me again, the mixture of my come and saliva spreading down my chin.

He pushed my dress farther up, the tie at the waist straining over my breasts, tight around my chest. Pinning my hands to the bed he climbed on top of me. Again he fucked me hard, from time to time flicking his fingers over my desperate clit and eliciting small, quick orgasms that made me again beg for more. He drove hard and fast, his sweat dripping against my skin. Again I was trapped and exhilarated and desperate for more.

It might seem as though he was taking what he wanted, but he was giving me what I needed. Withdrawing, he smacked my breasts, my cunt, my clit, and with my nipples between his teeth he gave me orgasm after orgasm until I was a shuddering, screaming, worn-out mess. And then he drove his cock back into me and fucked me until he came.

When we were done I rolled onto my side and found myself in an odd state, physically exhausted, mentally enthralled, and unable to do much more than smile and groan my approval. He held me for a while, and when I was finally ready to get up and clean myself off I found dry, crinkly patches of dried come and saliva all over my face and body.

He used me well. He gave me the sex I needed.