Sir / Sunday evening

We've done our duties. We're at home. I can barely string a sentence together, my cunt is so sore, my body hurts. It hurts to talk. 

We make up our bed and lie in it. I kiss his mouth, he tells me that I'm kissing about three foot too high and I hear him unbuckle his belt.

My lips happily find his cock and his fingers find my cunt and every time he touches me its like fucking ecstasy. It couldn't feel any better. It always feels so good.

I'm over used and marked and home. Abandoned on our doorstep. Like some misspent adventure.

He fucks me on my knees, strong, deep, this won't take long. It never does with him. It never does. I beg to come. I whisper. I release and I empty out. He holds me tightly. I needed it so badly. I need. I always need. I always want. Im greedy and revolting but at least I'm always his. 

Gavin / Sunday morning

He seems to like it when I suck him. I seem to like it when I do. I do so gratefully. Such a precious chore. Mine all mine. We do this. This is mine. 

We stand on the balcony and have a cigarette and he runs his hands over my hips and the curve of my arse and spanks me playfully. He pulls up my dress. it feels like the whole entire world can see my cunt as he exposes me on that balcony. I moan and tell him how much I liked the smack and he takes that opportunity to flop me over his lap on the couch and smack my arse until its rosy.

He decides to come. Leaning across my body. Expelling all over my chest and face. I scoop his effluvium in desperate greed, into my little pink mouth, while he showers. I touch myself in thebedroom. I want to come so badly. He packs up his belongings around me in a fleeting glance, touches me momentarily. Closes his bag and the weekend away.

I have my hand between my legs when he kissed me good bye. My eyes fade in and out in desperation. He takes one last look at my sorry, desperate face and he closes the door... and he leaves me. 

My cunt contracts, a wild and desperate lonely climax. Without his guidance or control. Without him. Something all of my own. All alone, its something. I let my body melt and moan and blend into the sensation. So ready, so wanting and sore. So poor an so over.

I get up eventually. Its difficult. I abandon the bed and I look in the mirror. 

My body is a sick and sorry canvas. Bruised tits and split capillaries, under my skin. My arse is covered in finger marks, my back in scratches, my neck in deep grey shapes. The skin on my face is raw and it itches.  Come drips from my cunt down my thighs. I look at myself and into myself. Lost and wild and alone. I look through myself and feel strong and good and nothing. I am nothing. I am everything. I am marked and I am perfect. 

Gavin / Saturday evening the end

Comfort and satisfaction is never enough. There’s never too much. My body twitches and he contorts my cunt with his fingers. I don't even want to come anymore, I just want to hurt. I tell him so. He throws me around the bed. Pinned on my side. He begins to pinch and grope my beasts. Squeezed and disfigured. Its agony. I wince and bleat he tells me to shut up, and I fight him back and he uses his heel to repeatedly kick me in the ribs. I want a tussle. I don't want it to be easy. He quickly over powers me. On top of my body, his knee between my thighs, hands pinned.

He comments on my predicament. I feel arousal wet my lips. I smirk and swallow hard.

He places my hands on his chest and tells me not to move them. He reigns smacks down on my face and breasts. Injury after injury. I am feeble and red faced. He moves me again and pushes my head down on his cock. I suck at him ravenously until he decides to change the location. On his back, in the lounge I continue to suck him while be blows white smoke from his mouth into the cool air of the room. Time stretches and twists out in front of us in a plume, and my memory now appears in flickers. He pushes my face into the glass french doors at one point, threatens to make me sleep outside in the cold, on the balcony. Bare and ashamed. I snivel and cry and beg him not to make me. Afraid of heights, afraid of him. I think he threatens to burn me with a cigarette then but I don't quite remember...

”Please don't make me sleep outside. Please don't make me sleep outside”.

I cry and snivel, a crumpled mess on the rug. 

He breaths in my face, his face uncomfortably close. I flinch and try to cover my ears. He tries to pull my hands away. Its driving me mad, its irritating beyond belief. It makes me twitch and feel sick. Still scared, still wanting and then it all stops. 

White silence.

My brain begins to drain like a plug hole. 

I’ve given in.

I have completely given up.

Hours, days, evenings, of sex, exquisite pleasure, humiliation and abuse, My body hurts, my head is numb and I just don't feel. 

I don't feel anything.

And its perfect.

Its beautiful.

Nothing he could do right now could change it.

He shakes me, tries to scare me, I hear him drop metal objects on the near by table. It doesn't matter what they are now. I don't flinch anymore. I don't care. He puts his hands on me softly. He doesn't know me well enough to know who I am, here. What girl I am, what a mess I am, what a perfect empty mess. 

I feel him gently start to stroke my skin. Soothing me and pulling me towards the heat of his body. He runs his hands through my hair and strokes my face. I have no one to be and nothing to say. I am no one and I feel nothing. I am his and everything and I am not at all. 

We go to bed together. 

I sleep deeply.

I wake up for more.

Gavin / Saturday evening the beginning

Saturday evening so sweet and nice, dinner together. I watch him in exquisite attention. He watches me, smoke. Red lips, pale skin and dark eyes. It’ll be over soon, it’ll be dead in the water. We go home.

We’re lying in bed together. Stroking, touching, feeling everything. 

His fingers tips are cold and smooth. 

This is white and calm and intimate. 

This is whole and beautiful.

The pleasure stretches between us in a ribbon of potential. I ask him if he’ll take me on my knees so that I can feel our bodies wrap together, like some sweet animal. It takes little persuasion. Rolling slowly entwined, that moment where our bodies interlock and he pushes into me. I cry out. My flesh is tight and hot. He grips my hips and we begin to move. Slowly and effortlessly, Little room for error. The heat in the room is intense and brooding. He leans into me and screws me harder. I ask him can I touch myself and he says I can touch wherever I want. We move,  he’s low over my back with that insistent push and my skin burns and I know i’ll come and I do and it spreads like fire. 

Muscles fork in a vice around his cock. 

I here him catch his breath. 

Such sweet release. 

He moans at me.

We carry on, and on and on. 

I ask him if he’ll come for me. If he’ll forgo any politeness and use my body to sate his flesh. I want to feel him come, so badly, it would be a gift. Its not my birthday, I hope that isn't going to matter. He begins to speed up, his finger tips dig into the soft flesh on my hips and he throws my body down onto his cock. Bang at me, hurt my cunt, use it how you want to. Tension builds in growls and hard breaths and he drives his flesh into me and I hold as still as I can and he hilts himself as deep as he will fit and then stop. 

Release.

Like an atomic bomb, energy zips though us. I can feel the heat of pooling come in latex. I can feel his cock pulse, I tighten my muscles and release in a rhythm, milking and begging out pleasure, seconds away from my own. 

His voice cracks. 

Some base fragility. 

It sounds almost too much. 

His limbs weaken up as he drops next to me. He picks up the condom and pours its contents into my open mouth. I slide my tongue between the rim of the latex sheath to eek out every last drop of deliciousness.

I am so high, completely lost. I take his cock, to softly mouth, the spent flesh and hunt for any last taste of fluid.

We lie close on the bed, he talks dulcetly, softly, in some half ecstasy. I am completely strung out, totally up and higher than birds who fly lower than us.  

Gavin / Saturday afternoon

Saturday afternoon. He tells me to suck him and he tells me he’s going to piss in my mouth. I take a deep breath. I know this one. I start to swallow the vile acidic yellow water as he forces into down my throat. It gets too much. I spit the last into my abandoned coffee cup.

We were talking, of course we were. Oh God, what happened to that? He throws me to the floor in the lounge. He pins me down by my head and he hits me. His hand around my neck. I cannot move, pathetic, green and cowardly fear. Wetness pooling in the lips of my cunt. He has me motionless. I whimper piteously. I am terrified and abused. He puts his finger to his lips, his eyes filled with excitement and menace and he whispers to me,

”Shush”.

I put my shaking finger to my mouth and I look at him, scared and compliant.

I wont tell, I wont tell anybody. Please don't hurt me. 

He tells me to get up and go the bathroom. He says he’s going to fuck me in the white tub, while I piss on our flesh. The task is impossible. I feel guilt in my inability. He fucks me aggressively, bagging my head into the tiles. I frustrate him. He tells me he’s going to make me drink until i cant hold it in. He pushes the faucet from the shower into my mouth. I fight him pathetically. I give in. 

I think, ‘God, please don't do this, please don’t turn the water on’.

He does of course, water floods my nose and throat and I can’t breath and I choke and splutter. Piss starts to flood from my body and his runs his fingers through the stream and smears it all over me. He turns off the tap. I am crying, shaking, fragile and brittle. I cower in the corner of the bathtub. He tries to touch me and it feels like it should hurt. I flinch away and sob. He gets up and turns off the light and leaves me crying alone. I don't know how long for. I see the door open out of the crack of my eye and he throws the contents of the mug at me. The one I left, filled with acrid urine and coffee. It itches my skin. Waste not, want not. 

I dont cry about that. It seems completely justified. 

Im left again. He comes back a short time later. He pulls me towards him and starts to grip at my stained flesh. My chest, my neck, it hurts. He runs a pinwheel over my body. 

I don't want to play anymore. 

Please don't make me. 

I wont tell anybody.

I promise.

He lets me go. The sobbing pathetic mess I am, and he starts to soothe me. Holding me. He runs a shower and starts to wash my hair. He cleans me and himself, taking away the danger. It ends in pleasure and climax. He gives me intense and exquisite head as I lie clean and wet on the apartment bed. His fingers find all those adult spots and it makes me release and cry out and it washes my head as clean as my hair.  

Gavin / Saturday Morning 15 small words

Coffee, chat, choke hold, fuck me, my breath, where did it go? I come.

Gavin / Friday

Friday night is tired and easy. He turns me up and on. The desire is almost palpable. We sit in a bar and he tells me some stories and jokes and I watch his lips move, and his eyes flicker, and I look at his hands, and I watch him smoke, and I think about kissing him and whether he wants to kiss me. 

Naive, sweet thoughts. 

What an error to think in such a way. 

We go back to the apartment. 

We fuck, its pretty effortless and sweet and visceral. I suck him, he tastes me, we share fluid and fleeting control. its pretty good. Its pretty great. It ignites desire. It begs for more.