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He grabbed me roughly and flipped me onto my belly, sending my phone sliding several feet away. The song kept playing. Then my robe was yanked off me an
d I was naked on the cold basement floor. My hips were lifted and I heard him fumble and then he impaled me with one slam of his hips. He had me a few inches off the floor by holding my throat and his mouth was right at my ear,
“You’re mine,” he growled.
“Yeah,” I breathed.
“Fuck!” he grunted.
“I love you,” I whimpered.
“What have you fucking done you stupid beautiful girl?” he moaned, his voice strangled sounding. He kept pounding into me from behind.
“I know,” I breathed, “I couldn’t help it. I fell in love with you. I’m yours.”
He let go of my throat, grabbed my hair roughly and groaned into my ear as he pushed maybe ten or fifteen times before he came inside of me as the song hit the chorus.
Then I was up, off the floor, in his arms, he grabbed my phone and stopped the song from playing, tossed the robe over me, my face buried in his neck, and he carried me up the stairs and back to our bedroom where he was ready to go immediately and where he then fucked me hard for the next hour or ten, I didn’t know, not letting me come, just pounding into me, using his cock and his mouth and his fingers to repeatedly and torturously bring me right to the edge, to the brink, and then stopping and pounding into me some more, saying dirty filthy words into my ear about how I was his to fuck, how hard he was going to fuck me, about how I didn’t get to come until he allowed me to come, and that today he’d fuck me not only until I couldn’t move but until he couldn’t move.
He repeatedly slapped my ass, he pinched my nipples hard, he bit into my shoulder, not drawing blood but definitely leaving a mark, when he came again, and then he was immediately hard again and took me again. At the end, he drove his fingers into my sopping wetness and then he wet his cock with me and then told me, “Your ass is mine.” I tried to get away, squealing “Wait,” but he didn’t wait. He got me on my side lying down and he pushed his cock slowly into my ass, taking my anal virginity. At first it burned, it scorched, but then he told me, “Give in to me, relax and let go, baby,” and when the word ‘go’ left his lips, my muscles loosened and the feeling transcended, changed from pain to something else, something I wouldn’t quite call pleasure at first but in my head I think it was about giving in that made the pain change and then while his cock was deep in my ass he grabbed my clit, tweaked it and said, “Come for me, baby,” and I started to build to the peak I’d been waiting for, my legs shaking so hard I couldn’t control them, and he was moaning into my ear, rotating his hips against my backside, and then I came harder than I’d ever come in my life. I was done; it was as if a thousand pieces of me had shattered all over the bed.
Tommy
She was in my bed, in my arms, we were tired and sore in all the right places and for her, some of the wrong places, and almost all was right in the world. Almost.
“Are you awake?” I asked.
“Sorta.” She answered, her head on my chest, her leg locked over mine, one of her hands up at my face with her fingers tangled in my hair.
“You okay?” I asked.
“My legs are still shaking. And my bum hurts,” she said softly and then she started to laugh. I laughed a little and then we were both laughing, holding each other, kissing each other, and then she had tears in her eyes. I kissed them away and she snuggled tighter to me, “I think you totally destroyed my ass.”
I laughed a little, “It’ll feel better tomorrow.”
She let out a dreamy sigh, “I love you.”
“I love you, baby. Thank you.”
“Thank you,” she answered and I squeezed her tighter.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t.” I said.
“No, I am. I just… I went backwards when I found all that out and just shut down, I…” she trailed off.
“It’s okay,” I whispered and kissed her forehead, “You’ve been through a lot.”
We laid there together for a long time and neither of us spoke. Finally, when it was obvious we weren’t going to sleep she looked up at me and ran her thumb across my lower lip,
“Tell me about your trip?”
I leaned sideways and shifted and then reached into the sheets and pulled off three or four sticky pieces of puffed wheat cereal that was stuck to my thigh. I gave her a funny look.
She laughed, cackled even. Laughed for so hard and so long she made me remember her age. Barely an adult, still young enough and still Tia enough to giggle uncontrollably like that. It was cute. Maybe all was not lost. Not yet. I tossed the cereal on the nightstand and when she regained her composure, I dug into my story.
“Dare and I went to see his mother. She wouldn’t tell us shit. We tried to dig into the past and she wouldn’t talk. She was like a cornered animal. Dare got pissed. But then as we were leaving, her husband stopped us and we went for a drive with him. He knew what my father had put her through, he knew a lot of shit. He said it took him years to earn her trust and that she was that broken from Pop. The guy’s just headed into end stage Cancer so he told us he has nothing to lose and that it’d give him some degree of peace to tell us things that might mean change for the family, for Annette’s kids and grandkids.
