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"Listen to you. Purring for me like a bitch in heat."
He quickly slides his cock out of my mouth, pulling on my hair to yank my head back so I'm looking at him.
"Are you in heat?" he asks low, seductively, and yet somehow still, with an edge that has me leaning forward, hoping for a touch, a kiss, anything. "If I put my fingers into that tight pussy, would you be wet for me? Wet from choking on my cock? Wetfrom me slapping you? Wet from me treating you like a useless whore?" I shake my head and he smirks. "I think you're lying, but we'll find out who's telling the truth. But first, swallow my cum, and make sure I hear it."
I swallow, loudly, his eyes on my throat as I do it. Then they're meeting mine again, satisfaction in them. Victory in them. Uncontrolled lust in them.
"Get in the seat."
I rise, not realizing how shaky my legs have become until I have to use them. But I make it into the seat, and then he's hovering over me, moving my legs until my body is under his. I push at his hands, cursing him, demanding he stop touching me when it's truly the very last thing I want him to do.
"Don't touch me," I spit. "Don't you fucking touch me. Get off of me."
"I will do whatever the fuck I want with you," he pants as he struggles to get control of my hands. "You filthy fucking whore."
He grabs hold of my hands, shoves them above my head, crushing my fist in his grip as he brings his mouth to my neck. Grunting, he sucks at my skin so hard that I cry out from the pain and the pleasure. From the hurt of his bite, and the bliss of his cock rubbing between my thighs. From the hurt of how tightly he's holding my hands, and the anticipation of what he'll do with me next. From the tears still drying on my face, and the wetness drenching my panties.
He puts both of my wrists into the clutch of one hand and drifts the other down my body to roughly hike my skirt up to my hips. His lips move from my neck to my lips, dominating my mouth, tongue sliding in, lashing against mine while his fingers move to the lace covering my pussy.
"Hmm," he hums while breaking our kiss. "Looks like you're the liar after all. Soaking for me."
Then he shoves the lace aside and drives two fingers into me so harshly, so quickly, that my body jerks up with the motion. But my moan is silenced by his mouth crashing down to mine again. He thrusts his fingers into me with no gentleness, and all I do is widen my thighs, silently begging for more. His mouth rips away from mine and he leans up, staring into my eyes.
"Tell me you want me," he demands.
I shake my head, closing my eyes.
"Tell me you want me to make you come."
"No. Fuck you," I scream.
"Fuck me?" he asks, slamming his fingers into me, palm hitting my clit, making me see stars behind my closed lids. "Fuck me?"
His fingers leave me, and his hand, wet from being inside of me, begins tearing at my panties, ripping them down on one side, then the other, again and again, until they're off my hips.
"Lift your ass."
"No," I shout.
He leans over and bites the top of my breast. I scream out in pain and do as he says.
"Yeah. Fuck me?" he pants as he settles himself more between my thighs. I feel the tip of his cock at my opening. "Fuck me?"
Then he's slamming in, all of his cock inside of me in a split second, giving me pain, giving me ecstasy. I arch off the seat so much that my back aches, but he just keeps pumping into me, grunting, groaning, hissing.
"You're getting what you wanted now, aren't you?" He thrusts, his pelvis hitting my clit, harsh breaths in my ear. "To be fucked, to be used, to be nothing but a bitch I fill with my cum."
I shout, struggling against his hold on my hands so I can touch him, so I can scratch his back, claw at his face, grip his ass to push him into me harder. Because I need more, always feel like I need more, of him, of us. And maybe he knows it because he fucks me harder, faster, slams into me and grinds against my clit. I spasm around him, so fucking close that I feel like the tension will overwhelm me if I don't find relief this instant.
He rips my satin shirt down the middle, tears my bra down with it, and sucks my nipple into his mouth. And I explode, clenching my thighs to him as I come, arching to take him deeper, mouth open with a silent inhale because I no longer feel like I can breathe. I can't exhale but my body can only pay attention to the bliss coursing through it, to the way his cock is filling me as his groans tell me he's close to where I am right now.
He releases my nipple with an audible pop and then he’s pounding into me with short thrusts until he slams into me one final time. A choked gasp leaves me at how deep he is. And still, he thrusts forward a little more, sighing as he empties out in me. He lets my hands go, but all they do is drop to the seat beside me. I don't have the energy to lift them. I don't have the energy to do anything but enjoy the feeling of his weight on top of me. To feel how my pussy continues to spasm around him. To feel... this moment with him.
My eyes finally open, even though my lids feel heavy, just as he's sliding out of me. I look down my body to watch him tuck himself back into his pants. And I look just like the whore he accused me of being. Panties on the seat between my spread naked legs, a wet spot on the seat from me coming on his cock. A whore. His whore.
"If you try to find me, if some extremely stupid part of you tries to follow me right now, I will make you regret it," he says.
Then he's opening the car door, getting out, and closing the door behind him. I just watch him go, not a single part of me ready, or willing, to move. I don't know how much time passes before I finally realize I'm sitting in a dark dead end, in an unlocked car, with no panties on. Bad idea. I put my panties back on, bring my skirt down, and fix my bra. There's no hope for my shirt.
