Jarring Passions

"No, stop, no. It's too much!" She cries. She's getting frantic. Her legs tremble.

I want to ignore her, fuck her until I cum. But that would be so easy, too easy. I decide on something worse. I want to humiliate her by letting her orgasm against her will, and then I want to fuck her drained, wasted body until I fill her used, tired pussy with my sperm. I slow down. She looks at me with utter despair.

"You want me to stop?" I tease. "Don't you want to cum?" I lick her neck, put my hand under her shirt. Fucking her slowly, carefully, I play with her nipples.

"Bastard..." she whimpers. "Bastard... "

"You want to cum, don't you?" I say again. "You're so close, aren't you? I'm not going to give it to you until you ask for it, you know."

She doesn't say anything.

"Maybe I will cum in your face after all," I threaten, and I slow down some more.

Still she won't talk, won't admit that she wants it. But I crave it. I crave for her to yield, to give up her defenses to me. I want to own her, claim this of her, far more than I want to cum.

"Fine," I smile, and I slip out of her, grab her hair again. "Open your mouth."

Suddenly she's desperate. I can see the torture in her eyes. She doesn't want to ask, but she's on the edge. She needs it.

"Please..." she finally cries out.

"Please what?" I raise my eyebrow. "Ask for it. I want to hear you say it."

She doesn't say anything, until I start to move my dick towards her face.

"Say it," I urge.

"Please, make me cum," she whispers. "I need to cum."

Furiously blushing, she tries to hide her face behind her arm again. I grin a devious grin.

"Good girl..." I whisper in her ear, as I push my cock deep inside her pussy again. "You're such a good, good girl!" I fuck her hard, deep. "Now, cum for me."

She shudders, trembles, cries under me. She's so humiliated, but she's getting her orgasm. As she cums, tears run down her sobbing face. She thanks me, over and over again. Her restrained body writhes under me, her pussy clenches around my cock. It milks me, it nearly sends me over the edge.

Then she comes down from her high, but I'm not done yet. I fuck her spent body, kiss her teary cheeks. Her eyes are dreamy, she's floating far away, her body is soft, limp. She's putty in my hands. She's my little tied up ragdoll. I take her just for my own pleasure now, and suddenly it comes, it surges over me, like a seizure. It seems to go on forever. I groan and buck my hips and fill her up, until it oozes out of her. It drains me, satisfies me deeper than I've ever been satisfied, and I drift off into sleep.

There will never be anything more surreal than the first time you wake up with a tied girl next to you in bed. It's unsettling, arousing.

She smiles at me, but I'm not sure it's genuine. She asks me to untie her, and though I say yes, I don't. I spoon her, my arm around her waist, my cock between her sticky butt cheeks, my face buried in the soft hairs in her neck, and then I want her again. I fuck her, like this, in this soft embrace, carefully, lovingly. When I cum, I feel raw, naked, vulnerable. In love. Confused.

Our sweaty bodies just lie there. I tell her I'm sorry. I caress her, whisper apologies, as she looks at me with sad, beautiful, forgiving eyes. Oh god, I think I love her, but it's a bitter kind of love.

When I drop her off at the train station, it's still early. The sun hangs low in the sky like a huge pale grapefruit. I could've known she was right about how things change when you fuck a friend. But I wasn't prepared for what it actually meant. We broke the spell all right, but I wish we never had. We might not ever see each other again after this, we might not be able to be friends again, ever, but I love that girl. She doesn't deserve to be loved like this though, by someone with acid in his veins.

Driving back I repeat in my head how she told me not to worry, how she told me it's O.K., we're O.K., but I don't think it is, I don't think we are. I'm not, anyway. I might love her, but I still hate myself, more than ever.

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