Lilacs

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A man and his dom have hot, aggressive break-up sex.
766 words
3.9
3k
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I still remember when you bought those lilacs for our anniversary.

They were divinely bright and violet. Breaths of Earth spilling from their vase, with defiant beauty like they would never die.

"This is a new chapter," you announced, with the same sincerity in your voice as when you first said I love you.

I accepted your words and flowers. I believed everything.

We left your blossoming promise on the dining room table.

Seasons passed. Rainstorms and night terrors came and went. Even when we fought, the bouquet stayed alive and breathing.

But false hope is a wicked temptress.

The naked truth is that there's no healing the kind of wounds we've left in each other. Me with my sharp words, you with your raging fists.

And I'm not a superhero. I can't separate the love from the pain, when that violence is what entwined us all along.

This is irreparable. Everything hurts with you. We've been on the verge of a flatline for months, and our breaths are strained and deathly.

It's time to pull the plug, baby.

Goodbye is never easy, but we need to preserve ourselves.

Let's touch each other while we still can, and make sure we savor it. I get to be on top this time. That's only fair, after all the shit you put me through.

Now get on the bed, motherfucker.

I grab you by the shirt and pin you down. It feels good to be the one with power for once.

Of course, you break free in seconds and throw yourself on top of me. I should have seen that coming from a man of your build. With one firm hand on my back, you keep me chest-down on the mattress.

"Fuck you," I groan. This is my favorite place.

Trapped between your angry hands and the bed. I need to feel this high.

You lightly trail your finger down my spine, continuing down the valley of my most vulnerable skin. I bite my lip as my cock grows thick and long. My hips push back against you, begging for more.

But when you finally go inside me, it's only a fingertip.

Yeah, yeah, I get it. You're warming me up, to make sure I'm ready for the main event.

The kind gentleman that you are.

But there's no need to be gentle, honey. We're both men here. And I'm getting very impatient with you.

"Just fuck me already," I demand.

You give a deep, villainous chuckle and says, "Be careful what you wish for."

Your grip tightens on my back. The pressure of your boner in my asshole comes sooner than I expected.

You're pushing yourself inside me, then pulling out, then pressing further, then pulling out, an ever-faster pendulum of friction.

Thrusting. Penetrating. Owning.

Your plunges are rapid-fire inside my body, deeper every second. I'm letting go of the past and the future. I'm unclenching my muscles. I'm ready for everything.

"Come on," I moan. "Slide that dick inside me, baby. I'm hungry for my Master."

You're not the type to hesitate.

You shove the entire length of your shaft into my hole as your waist slams against my ass cheeks. Then you immediately fill me up again. Completely. Viciously.

You primal monster of a man.

You're groaning with angst and desire, like a god exiled to human form, thrusting towards my prostate with violent precision. I'm moaning for mercy like a damsel in distress.

I surrender to your rawness -- your uncivilized lust.

This is why we stayed together for so long.

It's a miracle that we're making love after all that happened, that our bodies are grinding together, saying "I'm sorry" and "I forgive you" and everything else in hot, passionate friction.

You're incredible. Thank you for holding me down like this. Thank you for fucking me like this. Thank you so much.

There's loveless intensity as you push inside me harder. My body is opening all the way up. I swear to God I could shatter any second.

Obliterate me, Master. Fill me up with your fire-hot pressure.

You growl with ecstasy as your hot, wet semen shoots into my flesh. Then it languidly drips, drips, drips off of me, staining the mattress with thick, sticky droplets of your essence.

That's the last time you cum inside me.

I could burst any second. I want to burst for you, Sir.

But you don't care if I came. With a lifeless look in your eye, you walk out the door never to be seen again.

It's just me, the bed, and the lilacs.

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MarcLuciFerMarcLuciFerabout 1 year ago

SMH in amazement. This was just far too sad to love it, but too well written not to like it.

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