We kiss, talk, wander upstairs to a room in the club. He fingers my wetness and I take him in my mouth. I tell him he's going to fuck me. He rubbers up and pushes into me.
I make demands. Freedom and control are fleeting commodities to me, so fuck him, I make demands.
"Fuck me now. Fuck me harder. Fuck me until it hurts."
He oblidges.
We realise the time and break it up. We'll probably do it again.
I feel alone and powerful. I feel absolutely nothing about him. It's hard to feel anything towards anyone else anymore. I don't have the capacity. I still want to fuck other vessels, but I'm never fucking in my head. In body, not in spirit.
No comments:
Post a Comment