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Just a Wednesday
He has just finished tying my knees to the bed. There is drool spread over my chin and stuck to my chest, but I leave it, bracing myself up on my elbows and looking back over my shoulder. He stands between my pink, vulnerable bare feet where they hang over the floor. My tangled hair falls over my back as I lean up higher for the view of him fisting his cock; his eyes are on my open ass.
I feel my pussy spasm and I want to shout already—this is making me so hot. I drop my head to the sheets and arch my back, pushing my ass high into the air. The ties at my knees keep them well spread, but I would have opened wide for him. He knows it. “I love you looking at me,” I moan through my abused throat.
The blood and desire pulsing through my clit makes me strain toward his touch and I feel his fingers a half second before he actually skims them over the sensitive skin around my hole. Then he holds hard, spreading my cheeks. I wiggle against his grip just to revel in it.
“You want it?” I am looking back at him again and my breath is coming fast against my shoulder. “You want that little ass? You want to be rou—”
The sharp slap against my exposed, bare pussy lips interrupts my excited outpouring and I break off with a squeal.
“Shut up, slut. Just shut up and take what you get.”
I bury my head in the bed again as a moment later I hear the condom wrapper tearing. My asshole is twitching and spasming with anticipation, but it is completely subjugated by his thick, penetrating first thrust. That thick slide creates unbearable friction on my G-spot and I know I will come when he moves again.
But he is slid in to the hilt and his rigid length is uncompromising and immobile. I’m fighting the urge to writhe back against him when his cock suddenly stabs a little harder into me—he’s bending over me and I can feel the heat of his body against my back and shoulders. His arm, covered in dark hair and slightly damp from perspiration in the warm room, snakes beneath my chest and pulls me vertical. My head is pressed against his shoulder as his arm crosses my throat and squeezes. Now he thrusts.
“Oh, God, I’m—” On a ragged inhale I whimper the words as my core clenches. He doesn’t let up, but pumps hard again and again, and I feel my legs frantically squeezing against their bonds as wetness sprays from my cunt. My mouth is open; as his cock picks up the wetness spread over my pussy he thrusts more smoothly and quickly and I’m turning my face into the crook of his arm and his skin is salty and hot on my lips. I suck hard and bite.
He had been gripping my hip with his other hand but now he reaches up and grabs my hair, yanking my head back, and thrusts his fingers into my mouth. This is what I wanted and I’m closing my eyes, this time, against the sudden, crashing orgasm. “Little slut,” he’s growling as his balls become soaked in my come. “Yeah, keep coming. Keep getting off. That’s what you want? Or you can’t help it? Can’t help it when you get your ass fucked?”
His left hand still clenched mercilessly in my hair, keeping my neck locked at a painful angle, he moves the other to my pussy. I react instantly.
“No! Don’t—”
He pinches my nipple, hard. “Bitch, didn’t you say you were mine?” He has temporarily paused in fucking me and my attention is divided between this dialogue and my extremely sensitive, pulsing, aching, pussy in its post-multiple-orgasm state. I am desperately holding onto his wrist with both my hands even as he tortures my breasts.
There is a pause. Finally, even as I can’t help but grind on his cock a little, I mutter, “Yes, I said that.”
“Said what?”
“I’m yours.”
“Then ask me.”
He moves his hand down—my clutch on his forearm has no effect—and spreads my pussy lips with his fingers. I instinctively angle my hips away but with his cock up my ass, I’m pinioned, vulnerable to this attack. I try to turn my head to look at him but can’t move at all. My scalp and neck shoot with pain at the attempt. “What—I don’t—”
“Ask me to touch your cunt and make you come. Ask me to hurt your little clit. Beg.”
My throat closes in fear and shock at the same time as my pussy and ass clench again in a mini-climax. I am sure he felt it. I feel tears well up. I want this. I’m terrified.
The sound of flesh on flesh seems amplified now as he thrusts hard, once, twice. My eyes roll in lust. “Oh, God…please…”
“Say it. Beg me.”
I need to move—I fight desperately to escape the grip on my hair but it is relentless. The tears spill over. “Please, please touch me…”
He slaps my face. It is not unexpected and I only feel the familiar, immediate urge for more, more. “Don’t fuck with me, slut.”
I hesitate as long as I can before he goes for my nipples again. “Please touch my pussy!” I sob finally. “And—and my clit. Rub it. Pinch it…h-hurt me. Make me come so I can’t stand it…I’m yours…”
He fucks me and thrusts his fingers in my cunt and scrapes his thumb over my exposed clit and I scream and sink my fingernails into his thighs. We fall forward onto the bed and I feel the stretch and the scarves we used hurting my legs as he pounds me, his right hand still beneath me strumming my clit, making me buck and thrash, his other hand again at my throat to quiet my wild pleas. When he comes he grunts and holds my head down on the bed, his palm almost covering my skull. I kiss and nip at his fingers through the hair that has fallen over my face.
After he rests, when he gets up, I’ll arch up again and pose, to see if he’ll tell me how I look spread and just-fucked. “I’m yours,” he wanted to hear. I’ll need him to own me again tonight if the restless throb in my body is any indication.
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