Stories We Ruined Together Pt. 11

"Now I'm going to fuck you," he said, taking hold of my tied wrists and dragging me to my feet, and then he shoved me down onto the bed face-first. Roughly, he pulled off my knickers and unclasped my bra. Suddenly my head was pulled back, he had me by my hair, and I felt material pushed against my mouth, and again he told me to open up. I did, and he stuffed my knickers in, gagging me with them.

"Shake your head if you don't want this," he told me, but I didn't move. "Good girl. I knew you were dirty." My underwear tasted vaguely of myself, of course. A flavour I vaguely remembered from giving blowjobs right after fucking. I'd never been more helpless. And I felt ready to come at any moment. I jerked away when he spanked me, as if I could somehow escape, as if I even wanted to. He repeatedly slapped the bare, vulnerable cheeks of my pale, petite arse, and the sharp sound of his palm on my flesh filled my ears. My moans were muffled by the makeshift gag, and I felt saliva dribble down my chin. He stopped, and then had his dick against my wet opening, but paused there. I tried to moan my disapproval, tried to show him that I didn't want to wait, that I wanted to be taken.

"I know, I know. But... I don't think the professor would have Rosie on the bed. He's a married man. So...," he took me by the shoulders and moved me off the bed, and half lowered, half dropped me onto the floor. I silently thanked myself for hoovering the carpet the previous day. At least it was clean. And fairly soft. Ed shoved a folded pillow in between my hips and the floor, lifting my behind slightly, and then he was over me, on me, inside me, fucking me, filling me, using me. It was animalistic, he was rough, aggressive, loud. Slamming into me, dominating me. Some of the thrusts hurt, others just sent shocks of pleasure, it was a strange and intense mix. It was beautiful. I came without my usual long build up, and it rushed through me like fire, and he must have felt the muscle of my vagina contract over his condom-covered dick, because he groaned loudly at that moment, and fucked me faster, chest pressed to my back, pushing my tied wrists against me and against himself, sweat building where our skin met, holding me to the floor, and I couldn't move and I couldn't speak, could hardly even breathe.

"Are you going to be a good girl like Rosie, and swallow my cum?" He asked, hoarse voice in my ear, and he brought a hand round to pull my knickers from my mouth. I gasped for a proper breath of air, and said yes, yes professor. He pulled out of me, kneeled and turned me over onto my back, got a hand behind my neck to lift my head, and shoved his cock into my mouth, making me gag on bitter latex. A few big thrusts later he pulled out to whip off the condom, then shoved back in, and he burst in there, splattering his load into the back of my throat, the head of his cock spasming against my tongue, firing out more hot semen, and I managed to choke it down, swallowed it gratefully as if it was something nice and not just thick salty cum.

I dropped my head back to the carpet, exhausted, and uncomfortable from lying on my wrists. When I opened my eyes Ed was gone, but a second later he reappeared, holding a towel damp with warm water. He kneeled down beside me and gently wiped my face, removing tears, saliva, and drops of his ejaculate. He untied me, and took me in his arms, a tender embrace in vivid contrast to the rough treatment of moments ago. We stayed like that, allowing our heart rates to return to normal, stroking each other's skin. He told me how beautiful I looked. I told him that I belonged to him, to him alone.

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