How to Heal a Broken Heart

These wounds that she was nursing almost resembled a broken heart. She didn't like to think of it that way. But here she was months later still licking her bruised ego and failing to convince herself that there wasn't something inside her scattered into pieces.

She hadn't known he was a heartbreaker until that moment when he stood in front of her and slowly unbuttoned her shirt. It was there in the act of his fingers slowly but confidently fumbling to undo each button. No one had ever stripped her like that. Like she was a prize to be slowly savored and enjoyed but also as if she was utterly subservient to the hands slowly parting the slinky fabric of her shirt. She knew then that he was going to be a heartbreaker because she had never been with a man who had the confidence that he did. No, not just confidence. Arrogance and cockiness. Oh, a delicious blend: he was vulgar, he was cocky, and he was the best fuck she had encountered in her life.

She knew that she was young. She knew that there was an ocean of men out there; fresh fish in the sea, or something like that. There would be more great fucks and confident men who knew how to use their hands, their mouths, their cocks...that was another thing, he was also the first man that really knew how to use all of the parts of his body to his advantage. It was as if he didn't let any parts of his body go to waste, they all found ways to caress and tease her own body.

They used to lie in bed together and he would use his leg to part her thighs and then his knee would rise pressing up against her wet sex. He'd wrap his strong lower leg around one of her legs so she stood no chance at slipping away. Then he'd slowly start rotating that bony knee back and forth across her wet pussy. She would be trapped and her legs held captive had nothing to their defense but rocking and shuddering. She'd move and his knee would grind deeper into her sex, parting her nether lips and bumping her clit.

Sometimes it felt like his knee was thumping her sex like that for hours. She'd squirm and eventually get the surface of his knee so slippery and wet that every delicate inch of her sex would feel inflamed and tortured; pressed against his knee trying to hold off on the urge to swivel her hips and hump his knee. The urge would always overwhelm her and she would end up humping away and cumming furiously upon that knobbed surface of his body. Maybe the knee thing just sounds strange. It had felt strange to her at first. Who has heard of getting off by someone's knee? But it was just one of the many creative ways he conjured up to drive her mad.

Back then she used to cum so much that it nearly felt as if her body was permanently sore. She'd cum over and over again. She'd cum and think that there wasn't any possible way that her exhausted body could muster up another muscle contraction but then he'd bend down and flick his tongue against her clit or he'd do that thing with his cock inside her, that signature little move that made it feel as if he was drawing circles against the entrance to her cervix. Everything with him seemed to border upon pain and pleasure, so close to that edge where she'd scream and cry begging enough is enough.

Then it came true. Enough was enough. He left her. It stung but the shock was subdued with the reminder of her intuition. She had known it would come. Knew a man like him couldn't stay for long with just one woman. He couldn't even stay for long in one location. She went up there one night; it was they're usual meeting time and everything. He just wasn't there. The apartment was empty, not a trace of any of the passion that had been housed there. None of the neighbors, the landlord, no one knew where he had taken off. She knew that she would never see him again. Her cunt knew it too. Her insides felt hollow.

For months she mourned the loss of her lover. She never conjured up anger towards him. He had prepared her for this in many ways, keeping the distance between them when it came to intimacy and commitment. He had told her of his ways. His ways had been worth it. Even with the deep longing that was left inside her. Her cunt felt like it would never be filled again. Her clit felt like it shrunk up and hid under the skin. Time passed and it felt as if the only sexual stirrings left inside her body was roused only with the faint memory of him: a thought, a smell, a taste in the back of her throat that she swore was a stain from the many times he came spilling his seed down her throat. Every part of him seemed to touch her depths and now she didn't know how to get back into dating, into any sexual contact. She feared that everything would pale in comparison to the intensity that she had shared with him.

She had known that it was time to get back into the swing of things. Her body hadn't woken up, nor had her heart, but her mind had begun to inquire about possibilities. She felt a little shy and uncertain. She wasn't quite sure what she was looking for now and certainly didn't know where to find a good time.

That's the mood that found her one-day while sitting in front of the computer and chatting online with an acquaintance. This acquaintance had inquired about the status of her current love life and she trusted this particular friend. She gave him warning in advance, making sure he was ready to sit back and listen to the story in entirety. He was curious and so she confessed the whole sad tale, leaving out certain details about the sexual passion such as the knee story.

Her online acquaintance had a good ear, he asked questions about her feelings, and he was sympathetic. At the end he asked her if it was ok if he made an offer. She didn't understand where the question was headed but she told him yes. He confessed to some feelings of attraction towards her and told her that he would be an ideal person for her sexual healing (yes he actually said sexual healing.) She was flattered by his confessed attraction and they had exchanged photos before so she knew that he was attractive. The offer was tempting and she couldn't find a reason to say no. He was polite, gentle, and eager. What could go wrong?

She told him that she was up for it. He told her how happy he was and that he knew just what she needed to forget all about her lost arrogant lover. She found that hard to believe but she did find herself getting intrigued and slightly excited. "Are you free tomorrow night?" she asked him.

"Actually I am free tonight and don't know how much longer I can wait to finally experience you," he replied. She didn't have any plans for the evening but still she hesitated. She didn't usually jump into something like this so quickly. Ah, what the hell.

"Great. Let's meet up tonight then" she told him. They made plans to meet up at his place in just a couple of hours and she thought the conversation was over but then he popped one more question.

"Are you comfortable with being dominated?" he asked.

"Sure." She replied.

"Like really being dominated? Me running the entire show and pushing your limits?" he slowly typed in return.

She thought about it for a moment. He seemed like a pretty rational and safe guy. She didn't think he'd push her into anything dangerous or into a crazy BDSM scene.

"I wouldn't do anything to cause you physical harm or distress," he added in before she gave her answer.

"Yes. I trust you," was her reply back. Her heart began to pound. It felt good to say that she trusted someone. It felt sexy to be preparing for a type of sexual invitation that she had never quite had before.

"Then I'd like to request that you show up wearing a specific outfit," he told her.

"Anything you want," she promised.

"I want you to arrive at my house wearing a short skirt. But not a skirt that is so tight that it hugs and clings to your body. I want to be able to easily raise the skirt up to your waist. Maybe lay you over my lap and give you a gentle spanking...I want you to be wearing your favorite skimpiest pair of underwear or thong under that skirt and go braless wearing a tank top or halter-top. I want to see as much of your bare back and shoulders."

"Ok." she typed back. They exchanged good byes and said that they'd see each other in just a few hours.

She got off the computer and headed right over to her closet. She easily found the outfit that she would wear. Picking out the clothes perked her mood even farther and she found herself humming and giggling in excitement. She was going to get laid tonight and she figured the context would be an experience she'd never forget.

She selected a black skirt that clung to her hips with the hem hitting mid thigh. The material was silky and clingy but had an elastic waist that made it easy to slide in and out of. She stood in front of her mirror wearing just the skirt and slowly turned around. Her head peeking over her shoulder, she raised the skirt up to her waist, revealing her bare ass and imagining what it would feel like to feel his hands coming down over her soft flesh, spanking her like she was a bad little girl.

From her expansive underwear drawer she held up a skimpy g-string in completely sheer deep purple fabric with thin velvet vines and flowers interwoven across the skimpy patch of fabric that would cling to her sex. Oh yes, this would do just wonderfully, she thought to herself as she bent down to pull the slinky thong up and over her legs. Once she had the g-string in place she couldn't help but to delicately run her fingertips across the fabric covering her cunt. She felt the silken cloth dampen over her fingertips and she let out a sigh as she ran her fingertips higher. She loved the way the sheer material clung to her hairless lips and mound. She pulled her fingers away with a sigh. She didn't want to arrive and have her underwear completely wet and dripping. That could be a little over eager, a tad bit embarrassing to her. As sexual as she was, she still found herself a little self-conscious when it came to her lust and the arousal of her body. God, it had been ages since she had felt so alive with lust.

The last bit to her outfit was a velvet and lace skimpy tank top that had a splayed open neckline to showcase the top of her breasts and matched her g-string in a deep dark purple.

She looked at herself in the mirror as she idly ran a brush through her long thick hair. She smeared a dab of purple eye shadow across each eyelid and glossed her lips in a soft hint of red.

Standing back and looking at herself in the mirror she was pleased with appearance. She always considered herself sorta pretty but she thought it bordered on an average female appearance. Tonight she was pleased to note that she looked beyond average. She looked sexy, a little wild, and a little slutty. Her long dark hair hit her mid-back and as she spun around slowly in front of the mirror she loved the way her hair whipped around loose and wavy, deep red streaks here and there highlighting the purple in her top. She bent forward in front of the mirror and loved the way her small b-cup breasts spilled out the neckline of the shirt, nearly exposing each erect nipple. She curled her glossy lips into a sly grin, "fuck you heartbreak." She was ready to fuck away all the memories of the man who awakened her body and then discarded and abandoned her.

Her confidence was still riding with her but her heart was pounding as she stood in front of the door to his house and nervously raised her knuckles in a light rapping.

The door opened quickly and there he was standing before her. "My god, you look gorgeous." He held his hand out to her palm open and waiting for her to place her hand into his. She smiled nervously and told him that he looked just as good then let her small hand be enveloped by his. Handholding was a polite and romantic first gesture and she enjoyed the strength of his hand wrapped around her own. He gently pulled her into his living room but continued to walk and lightly tug her along as she got distracted and starred around the room. "I actually want to take you into the dining room," he said to her.

He led her into the next room over which was open and airy and had a large cherry wood table in the center of the room. She noticed that all the matching chairs from the table were pulled away and propped against the right wall. How odd.

"I love your outfit," he broke in and let her hand drop out of his. He stood in front of her, so much taller than her, nearly over a foot. She had to look up at him and it made her heart pound to see how nervous and eager he looked. The last man who looked at her with such eagerness....no, she pushed that thought out of her head. That was then. This is now and she was going to fuck away every last thought of him.

"I'm glad you like," she smiled nervously and dared herself to reach out and make the first move. Sometimes she gets so shy and frozen inside that she has to mentally dare herself to go through with an envisioned move otherwise she'd spend her entire life inside her head.

She let her arm lift up and then her fingertips grazed the hem of his button down black shirt. "I like your outfit too...and I can't wait to see you out of it," she looked up and grinned at him.

His eyes flashed with an intensity that caused a slight sigh to escape from her lips. He was gorgeous why had she waited so long to hook up with this friend of hers from the Internet?

"I do like the sound of that," he admitted to her. "But I actually have different things in mind for the beginning of our evening. He suddenly grabbed her and pulled her against the front of his chest. "And that most definitely involves seeing you naked first." His fingertips ran up and down teasingly across her back and her nipples tightened at his words.

She ran her hands up and down over his arms and then he lifted her chin and bent down low enough to kiss her. His lips were just a soft brush against her own and then he was pulling away and moaning against her neck. "You are so sexy," he nipped lightly at her lips and brought his mouth back against her own and this time he kissed her hard enough for her to forget how to breathe and everything below her waist tightened up.

They kissed for what felt like an hour but she knew only a few minutes had passed. He pulled away from and then glanced over at the table in front of them. "You're still ok with me dominating you right?" and his hands slid up her stomach to just below her breasts.

She nodded her head and tucked some stray hair behind her ear. "No," and his voice hardened. "Say it out loud," her murmured and a fingertip from each hand crept over her shirt and up the soft slope of her breasts.

"Yes. Yes I want you to dominate me," her voice was raspy and caught somewhere deep in her throat.

"Good," and he paused. "Then get on the table. On your hands and knees. All fours. I want your face directed at the wall and your ass raised in the air and close to the edge of the table."

At first she tried to convince herself that she hadn't heard him correctly. That's why he had led her into the dining room?! He wanted to see her displayed on the table like that? It was so crude and vulgar that she felt the moisture seeping from her sex but at the same time she knew there was a deep blush spreading across her face. "Um...ok. I'm a little nervous," she confessed and she slowly sat herself on the edge of the table.

"Don't be nervous," he said the words softly and looked at her with eyes glazed in lust and expectation, as if just telling her not to be nervous would soothe everything away.

She pushed her hands against the smooth tabletop surface like she was going to lift up and hoist her legs back up and around her and settle down onto all fours. But she couldn't will the movement from her body. She always felt shy when it came to first sexual contact with someone.

He walked over and then his hand was lifting her chin up and his lips pressed back against her own. He pulled away and ran his fingers through her hair, whispering into her hair, "I have fantasized about this moment for so long. You will not disappoint me."

His words assured her and she closed her eyes and swung her legs up and around behind her. She knew her skirt lifted up to her waist as soon as she started the movement and she could feel goose bumps tingling on her exposed thighs. The cold air against the wet fabric of her underwear seemed to push away all her feelings of nervousness. This was going to be so fuckin wild.

She planted her hands underneath her shoulders and placed her weight into them so she could raise her ass into the air. She couldn't help but to picture what the view looked like from his eyes. She knew the barely there fabric wouldn't hide her puffy pussy lips and she was sure he could see how wet the fabric was. Maybe he could even smell her arousal from where he was standing...oh..god...she let out a moan and started to get really into the scene...she pushed her ass up into the air and wiggled her hips.

"You little tease." His hands were upon the cheeks of her ass and he took the edges of her skirt and raised it up even higher so it was nearly wrapped around her stomach. He planted his hands more firmly against each of her cheeks and his fingertips dug lightly into her skin.

"I am going to spank you now," he murmured. "Spank you for being such a little cock tease and wiggling and thrusting your sexy hips into the air."

Her entire body tightened up and she couldn't help but notice that her asshole clenched up and the puckered hole quivered lightly. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the slap of his hand against her ass.

Minutes seemed to tick by and she stilled her breath to try and hear the sound of his hand about to land across her ass. She didn't hear any movement. She let her breath out slowly and still she waited expecting the quick slap against her cheeks. Nothing. She let a few more minutes go by before she couldn't help it and her hips wiggled in a slight circle.

!Slap! His hand smacked against her right cheek and his fingertips dug into the tender skin. Her entire body rocked forward with the movement and her pussy got so hot that she couldn't help but to spread her thighs even wider apart.

"You like that?" And now his fingertips were lightly playing with the string of fabric that hid in-between her cheeks. He lifted up the string slightly and then let it snap back down.

She nodded her head but then realized that he might not be able to see that. "Please," she heard herself murmur as response.

"Please what?" he asked in a singsong voice.

"Please. Again," and she wiggled her hips in invite.

"You want me to spank you again?" He pretended to act shocked. He continued on, "shall I give your other cheek a try? See if that one is as nice and firm and soft?"

"Uh-huh," she murmured and she knew she sounded like a little child.

!Slap! He didn't give her time to prepare this time and the force of it lurched her body forward and her hands skidded a couple of inches and she felt her body sink down against the table, her breasts pressed against the surface.

His hand wrapped around her waist and he hoisted her back up into the all fours position and she planted her hands down more firmly. "Stay in place. No matter what I do to you I want your body to stay in place," he leaned forward and slid his hand beneath her shirt going up over the small curve of her stomach and then reaching up to pinch one of her nipples. "Tell me you understand my command," and he pulled hard on her nipple.

Her hips automatically wiggled. Her nipples felt so sensitive as if they hadn't been mauled in over a year. "I understand," her voice was breathy.

His hands reached underneath her skirt and she held her breath to keep from unnecessary movement as his fingers looped into the string of her underwear and began to pull them down. As the tiny piece of cloth slid further and further down her legs she felt the coolness of the air hitting her wet exposed pussy. He discarded the skimpy cloth that was tangled around her feet and she let out a pent up breath and pictured what she looked like from his view.