I Hate Him, I Fuck Him

He irks my soul. There, I said it. I can't figure out what it is about him that makes me so irritable and annoyed when we talk, yet there's just something that makes me want to hurt him, but not in pleasure.

I'm not sure what it is exactly that attracts us to the other, for I'm pretty sure he thinks the same about me. There's just this look that we exchange, like a pleasant "fuck you" smile, a type of grin baring all of your teeth in an aggressive manner, a grin that you only give to people you dislike or to whom you are indifferent.

But then, we kiss, and I want it, right now, matching his desire step by step, daring him to keep up with me and my pace. Even when we fuck, I push him beyond his limits, behaving in ways I know piss him off such as scratching the hell out of him, biting, and/or fighting him.

"You are so fucking annoying," he whispers, his hands around my throat after his failed attempt at trying to make me submit to his will. To me, submission is a gift, an acknowledgment of trust and care, knowing he will be there when I fall out of my headspace to soften the blow. That's not him, he will be gone before the sweat has dried, before I can catch my breath, before I fall asleep.

"Ditto," I reply to him, laughing. I lean forward to kiss him, only to bite down hard on his lip with my teeth, willing to take the "L" and pass out from his hold, before ever submitting to his will. He moans and then flips me over, pulling me backwards to arch my hips, moving me into the position he wants before spanking my ass cheeks. I arch into the pain, moaning as he grabs my hair to wind it around his hand as he uses the other hand to roll on a condom to fuck me.

He always starts out gentle, knowing it's not enough for me, for I like it deep and rough, but he uses gentle strokes or tenderness to tease me. He awakens my inner pain slut by teasing her with what she craves, never setting a limit to how much or too much, just "yes", "now", "please" and "thank you."

He teases me like this for awhile before turning over on his back and pulling me to face him.

"Be a good little girl and do what you do best," he says, pulling off his condom, to push downwards on my head.

I stroke him with my hands first, tugging and rubbing, before bending my head to lick him up and down, before finally taking him into my mouth. I lick, suck, and taste him with my mouth, the way I know he likes it, letting my saliva soak his cock, before deep throating him several time before slowly releasing him from my mouth. I place gentle kisses all around his pelvic area, until I get to the area between his abs and groin. I bend my head to lick and kiss him in that very spot before biting down hard, for I am not "his" or a "good little girl".

"You fucking bitch," he exclaims, moving fast and flipping me over before I can do anything else. I fight him, scratching and moving before he can finally pin me down underneath him. Both of us are breathing hard, looking into the other's eyes, trying to anticipate the other's next move.

"You can't possibly win," he whispers to me, his hands wrapped around my throat again. I stare back at him, daring him to do it, not giving an inch. He sounds annoyed and angry, but I feel him against me hard and ready.

I laugh unconcerned, knowing it irritates him when I don't listen. "I'm not your bitch, you are just used to women making it easy. I'm...not...them," I smirk at him as I struggle to get free.

He flips me over and pushes my head into the pillow. I hear another condom wrapper open and I can sense him rolling it on before he enters me hard, pushing my head farther down into the pillow. It's fucking at its best: no tenderness, no call the next day, no promises beyond this moment.

I hate him, but I want this. I arch my hips and move them back hard, wanting to drain all possible pleasure from every single second. It becomes another battle, neither side wanting to give up any inch or ground as we push each other towards the shared goal. Finally, we both cum simultaneously only to collapse onto the bed. In this moment, our bodies are kind to one another, my curves naturally fitting up against his body, until he pulls me closer to hold me as we recover from an intense fucking.

After awhile, we both pull away and begin to dress. As I dress, I feel my walls going back up. I glance up and see the same walls going up as he gets dressed. I go to the bathroom and fix the damage done. My throat is bruised, my lips swollen and red, and can see the glow of a woman fucked well and hard. When I leave the bathroom, he's already gone, not surprising me at all.

I return to the party, walking right past him, to return to my friends. I grab a drink, and reenter conservations and flirtations. I feel my phone vibrate in my bra and pull it out quickly reading the message from him. "You scratched me, you bitch," he texts. I smile and glance around the room. I see him flirting with others.

I smile and text, "Go back to your bitches, you know the ones who are dying to please you."

I return to my conversation until my phone vibrates seconds later. "Whatever" he texts, "You like pleasing me."

I roll my eyes and tuck my phone back in my bra. Seconds later, I feel it vibrate again.

"I'll prove it to you...later." the text from him states. "Challenge accepted" I quickly text back and tucked my phone away.

I'm not sure I'll ever like him as a person or vice versa. We are two very different people who like getting our way and controlling all possible outcomes. I hate him, but I want him, just like he wants me. I can't wait until the next time we play...