I had made it clear to you early on that living with me would be an adventure. You had no idea what adventure that would be, as I could tell.
It had only taken one night. One night of getting you drunk enough to admit your feelings for me. Then your half hearted recantation that only made me smile. I don't think you remembered it in the morning, you still gave me that guilty look you always seemed to have. That look that said, "I've pictured you doing awful things to me but I can't ever tell you that."
You didn't have to tell me. I already knew.
I came close to you, that night, you at the counter washing a dish and imploring you to turn around. The fear that ran across your face was amazing, the realization that what was going to happen making me smirk. You could fight me but that wouldn't be too much fun now would it? Besides, I had so many things I could teach you...
Kissing you made you shudder, I knew that too. My beard was soft enough that it didn't sting, thick enough to satisfy some primal need in you to submit. I had the experiance that could mold you or break you and it made me giddy inside to know it. Your tongue touches my lips cautiously and I kiss you harder, gripping the back of your neck and intwining my fingers in the hair there. Your skin was hot, searing, and I could feel your pulse flutter, the surprised but slightly frightened gasp that resulted as I pulled you closer.
We had to move but I knew we couldn't break apart. One moment is all you'd need to have apprehension flow into your eyes, reasoning dominate your mind. No, no, I couldn't have that, young lady. Not at all. I pull you into the living room and down on the couch, making quick work of your clothing. I wasn't worried about my own--you wouldn't be touching me and I only had to unzip my fly. I just wanted inside of you but knew my limitations.
My hand snaked down, fingers finding her warm and wet, nearly dripping and I chuckle, knowing it rumbled in my chest. "You can't hide what your body says," I say and I feel you shiver. I wanted you to fear me but at the same time, need me. It was an odd dicotomy but one I was willing to live with. My other hand held your breasts, soft, heavy even for their size and I pinch a nipple gently.
God if you could just make that noise every day! I knew then that the hard ball exterior you put up was just that, an exterior. You were as feminine as any other woman and here, in my hand, writhing naked, sweat already forming a light sheen on you, I knew I had to have you. I'm sure you thought I didn't know how deep your thoughts went but I'm a man and my needs had to be fulfilled. I slip two fingers inside of you, hearing you whimper, eyes shooting open in surprise--never thought I'd do that huh? I do this until your breath is coming just a little too fast, your cries just a little too pleading and I pull away, chuckling at the resulting whimper.
"I promise I have better things for you," I whispered. I knew you were slick already, juices dripping down past their origin into depths never probed. I take an index finger and push it past the ring of muscle, watching your face contort in pain briefly. But the movement of your hips, the small circles and jerky movements gave you away; it may hurt but you liked it. And judging how your mouth fell open into a lustful 'o', I'd hazard to guess that you liked it a lot.
More fingers, more moaning. You can be this vocal huh? I can still see reluctance taint your face because I'm not your long time lover but this is for the better. I promise. I need to be inside of you and this is as close as I can get. Quickly I unzip my jeans, my hardness springing free. I wasn't the length of a porn star but I could've matched them in girth and was quite happy with my just over half of a foot. A curious hand--oh!--reaches down but I swat it gently away. No, bad girl. No playing with the merchandice. Atleast not before you buy it...
Using my own precum and some of hers, I was ready. I pushed forward at her virgin entrance, feeling hot, slick tightness, forcing my eyes to remain open as you throw an arm over your face. What makes you hide? Is it guilt? Or is it to deny me the pleasure in your face? I pull your wrist away, I want to see what I'm doing to you. I take a deep breath--goddamn girl, you're tight--and give a shallow thrust, watching with a manly glee that it made your breasts jiggle. A moan you try to muffle escapes your lips and I repeat, smirking just a bit at the gasp from that one.
Slowly, I start to fuck you, a slow and rhythmic speed that makes your mouth for words but not speak them. 'Please?' they half say. But since I don't hear them, I ignore them. My own orgasm was building and I reluctantly slowed, hands settling on the swell of full hips. You, by this point had casted modesty away and arced towards me, eyes glazed in total lust. Headspace they called it. I knew then you'd do anything I'd ask you to do. Your acceptance of what was happening made me smile but to hide it, I kiss the bend of your knee before starting again.
I thrust slowly forward, with consistent yet gentle pressure I impale you and force you slowly apart. You buck against my body and moan, but I continue my slow progress until once again I can go no further. This is where I want to, no, need to be. I have no desire to hurt you but I savored your discomfort, your uncertainty. The best thing however is seeing all of that melt into a single, animalistic emotion: want. For the first time in a long while, I felt alive and satisfyed, the feeling overwhelmed, powerful.
I grab your hips roughly and push in hard, swiftly and again you cry out. I only respond by going even harder. I'm consumed by the feel of you around me, pulsing, pulling me deeper inside of you and I growl as your legs wrap around my waist. Total submission. It was all it took--that little bit of surrender; I'm blinded by unbridled lust, a primitive, primal urgency, fucking with an insane sort of aggression that my mind only half heartedly understood and looked amazed at how well you took each bone shattering stroke.
One beserk thrust blended into another. I'm holding your wrists down as you thrash under me, throat finally finding the words that you couldn't normally bring yourself to say: "God please! Please don't stop! Oh my god..." I laugh and I know it sounds cruel, squeezing my hands tighter to the point that I know I'm going to leave a mark. The pressure in my lower regions grows and I know I'm close to losing it but I can't do anything else, be anything else until climax releases me from this madness. I'm in a hell so good it hurts, I'm in a pleasure that blends into a demented sort of pain. And then...
For some reason, there's alwas a pause. A moment of silence before God says, "Let there be light", the one people must hear before death steals them away. But then again, it might be the sound we hear just before we draw our first breath in the waking world. The dam, my control, our sanity shatters and I roar at the short circit my body is experiencing, focusing on only claiming you from the inside out rather than on such mundane things as breathing or being flexible. I hear you scream as well, the walls of you contracting in waves and I shudder, eventually falling back from you as your own climax subsides. I stare into eyes the same color as my own right before you say----
"Your alarm went off three times. Are you going to work or not?"
My eyes shoot open and I look over my shoulder in a panic. 'It was a dream,' I tell myself. 'All some fucked up dream. God.' Luckily I had rolled over on my side sometime during the night. The events may have been fabricated but my slowly softening erection and cooling white passion were as real as the sun in the sky. You look at me, confused, tilting your head. "Well?"
"Yeah, I'll be up in a minute. Just...a sec."
Taking the statement for what it was, you nod and walk out and my eyes follow your jean clad ass out. The same ass I had just fucked...
'It was just a dream. A helluva dream but just a dream. Now get up and go to work.'
If only it were just that easy...