One End of the Spectrum

"I want your cock in my cunt. I want you to fuck me."

"What else?"

"I want you to use me. I want you to cum inside me. I want you to..."

He was shaking his head. "I know that. What. Else?"

"Pain. More. Just a little more. Please."

He shook his head again. "I don't think you get to decide how much more. I think you're using me, and you have to take what I give you. Deal?"

She started to nod and remembered that he wanted to hear it out loud. "Yes. Deal. I take what you give me. You take what you want."

His smile was beautiful and evil, like he'd discovered the key to the universe and it made him omnipotent. Like the omnipotence was instantly corrupting. She shuddered, but her cunt twitched again when he gently pushed her in the chest so she fell backward onto the bed. She splayed her legs out and he climbed onto the bed. Her ass was on fire. Her pussy drenched, throbbing, and ablaze. She spread her arms wide and he positioned himself above her. He'd always liked her to look at him when they were having sex. His eyes fascinated her and he knew it.

She found herself smiling up at him, already high on the endorphin rush, honestly unsure but suspecting that she'd had an orgasm while he was punishing her ass. He slid his cock into her swollen, tender, aching pussy. It was the best feeling she'd ever had. She thought she could trace every millimeter of his cock's length, could have calculated its circumference, just by squeezing her vaginal muscles. So she did, and watched another smile bloom over his face. Slowly he moved inside her. She wanted move her hips up, to arch her back to join him, but she felt like jelly.

He kept sliding in and out of her, finding a rhythm that suited him, and gradually she got enough strength back to meet it. Rocking her hips, squeezing her pussy when he was deepest inside her, squeezing her ass cheeks. She lifted her legs and locked her ankles together at the small of his back. He shifted his weight back so that he was kneeling, now just moving his hips, with his hands on her hips, anchoring her to him. She felt him slide his hands over her legs, and he spread his knees apart, to somehow make the position a little more stable. Her hands were still out to her sides and he leaned down to trace his fingers along her arms.

When he brought his hands back toward her torso, he grabbed a breast in each one. Squeezing and pulling like he'd started what seemed like hours ago. Digging in so each individual fingertip would leave its own mark. Then he pinched each nipple and pulled it away from her chest until he lost his grip. Pinched harder and did it again. She was moaning, arching her back, digging her heels into his back, clenching her pussy around his cock.

He used his fingernails to dig into her areolas, then bent down and bit a nipple. Sucked her areola into his mouth and bit down again. She shuddered, and he did the same thing to her other breast. Sucking her nipple, the tip of her breast, sliding his teeth along her skin. Not quite breaking through. Each sensation a different kind of pain. Sharp and dull, burning or stabbing; a symphony played on her nerve endings. With the bass notes of her ass and pussy throbbing along in time.

She was still rocking her hips against his cock, still clenching in the rhythm they'd established. He leaned forward and licked her lips, bit the lower one again. When he leaned back, she almost expected what happened, but she still wasn't prepared. He started hitting her breasts. Flinging his arms out wide to slap her tits from the side. Raising his hands as high as he could and connecting square on the nipples. Both hands, both breasts, sometimes simultaneously, sometimes alternately, as fast and as hard as he could manage. Pain radiating in sharp circles and waves out from her nipples. Pain moving down from the top of her breast, from the fleshy sides, back to her nipple. It was glorious.

She felt the orgasm coming this time. She arched her back, tilted back so far it was the top of her head on the bed. She made some noise halfway between a scream and a moan, loud enough that it surprised her. He was still beating on her tits. She ground her hips harder onto his cock, squeezed her heels into his back, and then her body just took over. Shuddering, pulsating contractions in her pussy, her thighs, her stomach, her toes curled, she couldn't breathe. She was crying out, then could only let the waves pass over her and try to catch her breath.

He was still. He was still hard inside her. He watched her, wondering who this woman really was. He wondered who he might turn into if he stayed with her. He appraised all the red spots, finger marks, scratches; trailed his fingertips gently over her skin as she shuddered and her breathing slowed. Part of him felt invincible. Part of him worried that they'd gone too far. But that part vanished when she opened her eyes and looked at him like he'd answered her prayer.

Her shifted forward and put one hand on the bed directly above her shoulder; leaned down and put his other elbow similarly touching her other shoulder. She was effectively held in place by his arms and he began fucking her in earnest. No lazy rhythm, but long strokes with his cock, pulling almost all the way out and shoving back in as hard as he could.

She was trying to keep up, trying to move her hips in time, but he needed to go faster, harder, deeper. He felt her lifting her feet, sliding her knees up his sides. His mouth was next to her ear, and she could hear him grunting, his breath getting ragged, and she wrapped her arms around him. She arched her back again, and surprised herself by tripping another orgasm, his cock unwittingly hitting just the right spot on her clit. She felt herself clench around him, and held on as he fucked her harder.

Then he was gasping, and his stomach was clenching, and he threw his head back and let out his own screaming moan. He shuddered to a stop and she wrapped arms and legs around him. She felt him cumming inside her, felt his cock twitch, squeezed her cunt as tight as she could around him.

He practically collapsed, lying down to her side with a thud. Their legs were still tangled up, but she managed to roll over onto her side, facing him. She traced her fingers along his forehead, cheek, jaw, and down his neck. She leaned over and kissed him, tenderly, on his lips, nose, both closed eyes. He clasped her hand in his, held them to his chest. She could feel his heart beating and put her head down on his shoulder.

Was there anything to say? Should she apologize for goading him into this? Who knew. It was too much to think about. But it was a hell of a cure for a bad day.