On The Edge

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Allyourbase
Allyourbase
157 Followers

Apparently, it turned her on like nothing else, too. Gushes of pussy juice lubed up my hand. Suddenly, I could push in. She cried out, her hands tried to stop me, but we were forcing her legs apart. And then I was inside. Her muscles closed around my hand. Damn, she was tight.

"Oh my god!" She cried, frantic. "It hurts... It's in. I can't believe it's in."

Carefully, I started to move my hand. It had an incredible effect on her. Her boyfriend chuckled.

"How does it feel, hm?" He asked. He played with one of her tits while she writhed in his arms, close to tears.

"It hurts. I'm getting close, I'm close..." she whimpered. "My god, I have to cum. Please. Oh, god, it hurts. Please, can I cum?"

He was enjoying himself immensely. Her body was so exposed. Her muscles milked my wrist, as I was slowly fucking her with my hand. She was begging him to cum. He softly kissed her face, her neck, as if he didn't hear her. It was the hottest thing I had ever seen.

"You like that hand inside of you, hm? It gets you off to be forced. Doesn't it?" He wasn't going to let her cum just like that. She had to admit it. But she didn't want to.

"Come on, say it," he whispered in her ear. "We know you love it. Say it. Tell us."

She blushed deeply. Her breath was shallow, fast.

"Tell us what a slutty, slutty girl you are," he kept urging her. "You want to cum, don't you? Tell us how much this gets you off."

My hand working inside of her, stretching her, was getting the better of her. She needed to get off. She couldn't think anymore.

"I love it," she softly whimpered, defeated. "I love to be used."

"Good girl! You can cum now," he smiled, satisfied. "Lick her," he ordered me, as he jerked her leg aside a bit more.

My mouth found her clit. I sucked on it, played with it between my teeth. I twisted my wrist inside of her. It made her cum like crazy. She screamed, cursed, her face red, eyes rolled back. Her hands grabbed my hair. Spasming around my hand, her muscles tightened so much they almost hurt me.

As she came down, she cried. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Her body shook. I carefully took my hand out of her pussy. Her boyfriend comforted her, hugged her, whispered things. But on his face, I couldn't find any empathy.

Finally, he got up.

"Let's see the damage..." he said, as he sank between her legs.

He opened up her pussy lips with hungry eyes, to check up on what a red, raw mess she had become.

"Oh, I just love a used cunt..." he groaned. "Now it's my turn."

He lifted her shaking, tired body, put her on her knees and made her bend over on the couch. Forcefully, he pushed his cock inside of her. He fucked her, slowly but deep. She was too exhausted to protest. It showed that this was a painful fuck. It aroused him.

It aroused me too, all of it, the whole filthy mess we were in. My pants and panties were on the floor, my hands were rubbing my cunt, trying to get off.

"Let her eat you out," he said, in that manner that didn't leave any room for discussion.

I didn't feel like adding my body to the equation. I hadn't exposed my tits either. In spite of it, I moved my pussy towards her face. Her eyes were far away, but she opened up her mouth. Dutifully, she started licking me, while that controlling bastard was saying all kinds of humiliating things to her. About how sloppy her pussy felt, about how much of a slut she was. Asking her how my cunt tasted. Telling her she was his, to play with, to cum in, to give to others. I had never felt anything like this before. It was degrading, but such a turn on. It blew my mind.

And then he came, pushing deep inside of her, grunting. Softly, she muttered thank-yous, with a satisfied glow on her face. As he took out his cock, his cum oozed out of her, trickling down her leg, dripping on the floor. She didn't make any effort to stop it. Neither did he.

He stood up, left, didn't seem to care about her, nor me anymore.

"She's yours," he said, as he walked away to get a shower.

I needed to get off badly, but no matter how hard she tried, I couldn't get there. I was on the edge, but it wasn't going to work. With his commanding presence gone, my sense of reality rushed in. Rapidly, like a tsunami, crushing everything in its way, filling me with a growing panic. Here I was, in this living room, with a shadow of the girl I thought I knew before, between my legs, while she didn't really want to. It felt wrong. So wrong, all of it.

I suddenly didn't want to be here anymore.

A ship on the river pulls me back to the here and now. I feel the low hum deep in my belly. Nausea lingers persistently from having relived the memory. I can't think of how I just left them, left her there on that couch. I don't want to have done what I did, but I have. And I have no idea how to deal with this unbearable feeling in my stomach.

I used her. How come I feel so used? My arousal has disappeared. All there is left is this cold, sticky mess in my pants. The muscles in my hand feel tired. It makes me feel embarrassed. I play with the package of cigarettes in the pocket of my hoodie. I don't feel like smoking. There's also still a couple of beers in my messenger bag that I have no desire for. I have never felt this resigned.

For a moment I lose myself, staring at the intricate patterns in the ship's wake. The waves fan out, die down until they hit the embankment. Slowly, the nausea dies down with it. I think of all kinds of labels to describe me, to define me. To justify what I have done. They don't stick.

I wonder how far upstream or downstream you'd have to go to be able to walk in the sand with bare feet, and look for mussel shells. Black and rough on the outside, but shiny inside, where it's always dark. Ironic. I think of amphibians. Being able to breathe everywhere, does it make the entire world feel like home, or does it make you fit nowhere anymore? These paradoxes feel like zen koans. Unsolvable, yet comforting.

I look up to the giant bridge looming overhead, silently watching me disintegrate. All those people who have stood on the edge to jump off, since it was built... How many of them must have stood there, for hours, watching this river, just to return home again. I wouldn't jump. But I don't want to return home either.

What is home anyway?

I feel I need to leave this city. I need to leave this place full of eyes, watching me and watching me, scrutinizing my outside until I don't feel real inside anymore. This river feels like a friend. I think if I stay here long enough, watch her long enough, she might take me and all there would be left is her. Someone might find my shell here, maybe. Washed clean, empty. I wonder if I'm shiny and pretty on the inside after all. I guess I'll never know.

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Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed the story. Loved it? Hated it? Suggestions for the next one? Please, let me know. Comment, send feedback! (And vote of course, vote! ;))

Allyourbase
Allyourbase
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15 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousover 4 years ago
I liked it

I really did. It's different from every other story I've read on here. Very original.

AnonymousAnonymousover 5 years ago
holy shit

i’m wilding on how you managed to get me disinterested in the sex and more interested in the character. you had the main be trans so well? there was no fetishizing, the degrading fit perfectly the thoughts fit perfectly the conflict fit PERFECTLY. you really should graduate to a better website with writing like this

AnonymousAnonymousover 11 years ago
fantastic!

This is your calling!!!!...very sexy, enticing even. It pulls you in from the very beginning and holds you there until the end. You describe everything in such detail that it's impossible NOT to "see" it and "feel" it. Well done!

cullodencullodenover 11 years ago
Wow.

Hot, well written, and thought provoking. Thank you.

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