[FM] The last time we fucked (m25, f22) [long]

I should had said no. They told me that he doesn’t deserve me. He told me himself that I’m too good for him. I don’t care though, I want him.

When I try to be strong and remember the ways he hurt me, my mind strays back to those rare, tender moments… meeting me with a wolfish grin at the door, pulling me closer to him at night, the sickly sweet pet names whispered straight into my ear. Those long nights crying into my pillow seem so distant, tears so dry.

I shake myself mentally and focus on the now, focus on the fact that we’re lying on his bed, staring into his eyes. They soften around me, harden when he’s scared. That’s why he pushed me away, I tell myself, he was scared. His voice brings me back, ‘I missed you’, he whispers.

My heart drops, then leaps. I don’t know what to say. I don’t. His hands reach towards me, and his eyes stay soft. I want that look to be mine, and mine only. His hand reaches out and I desperately need him to touch me, he brushes an imaginary hair out of my eyes and I’m gone. I’m his and he knows it.

Everything shifts. There’s something strange, yet familiar under me. He’s pulled me ontop of him, I’m straddling him and looking down into those eyes. I’m in power, I’m on top, but I’m under his control. He wants me, I can feel between his legs. I let out a whimper, he knows I’m scared.

He knows he hurt me and his eyes change to a look of sorrow. ‘You’re too good for me’, he whispers, giving me a final chance to run. I can’t give up the taste of him, this might be my only chance. Deep breath in, and my eyes close.

That mouth is on mine. It’s soft and apologetic. I’m angry for his control over me. He kisses me deep and I moan into his mouth. He tastes so good, and it feels so right. Those tears were so dry.

I hear his familiar tease, ‘What’s wrong? Hmm, what’s wrong?”, paired with that cocky smile. He knows I’m his, and wants me to admit it. I refuse, and my hands are all over him, fighting to hurt.

My focus shifts again, now I’m under him. He’s everywhere I look, I can’t get away. Not that I want to. He’s pressing into me even more. He paws at my shirt and swears, cursing the existence of fabric. The very same fabric he can’t keep his eyes off, the same fabric I wore for a reason.

I’m still fighting him, fighting to get him off me. Only I’m fighting to get his shirt off. He pulls and nips at me, knowing all my soft spots. His lips dance across my neck. Now it’s my time to curse.

We’re touching chest to chest, his body next to mine. His body under him again.

Hand run down my chest, mouth sucking and nipping. I whimper more and grab at him, I want to feel him, memorise his body.He slips from my reach and he’s working on my skirt. The buttons are in the way. I get impatient and want him now, I push his hands away and do it myself.

I’ve upset him. He’s in control, not me. He places small kisses and nibbles up my legs, finishing on my ass. He luxuriates there, palming my cheeks and leaving his bite marks. It hurts but I want more. I want to be marked. Proof that I’m his. Proof that I’m not dreaming, and I’m really here with him.

He’s got his hands dancing around my panties. I need to slow down. I need to speed up. I need him. I try to tug him back up to me, but instead his fingers make his way under my soaked panties. He’s pleased, proud that he got me so wet. Of course I’m wet. The first look he gave me, I was wet.

I try to protest, I wriggle and squirm, but he holds me down and slides them off. He touches me and my eyes slide shut, my mouth opens, panting for air. He slips a hand round my neck, trying to quieten me. I love it. He has control over me. I’m his. I hate it. He has total control over me. I’m all his. He whispers close in my ear, his hot breath bringing up goosebumps, making me moan for him.

My eyes stay shut, screwed together with effort. His weight is gone, as is his hand. I peek and he’s lighting a candle. “I need to see you”, he explains. I smile and consider that maybe I’m having an effect on him too.

I relax, I’m in control now. I feel his eyes on me. They snap open and that candlelight makes him look like a God. My Italian God.

I never gave him a blowie. I hate them. Maybe that’s why he didn’t want me in the end. The thought haunted me, the tears were so dry.

But in the candle light, I wanted it. I crawl to the end of the bed where he’s messing with the lighter and look up at him. My mouth is open and hungry. I want him in my mouth.

I give him a cautious lick, and a kiss to the head. He tastes so good. I try to take him all in. His hand sneaks into my hair and encourages me. I look up at him and now his eyes have shut. His face contorted in pleasure.

Finally, the tables have turned. Hands sneak up his chest and touch his soft spots. He shudders and pushes me away. I pant, gulping down air, and force my way back. I gag, but making him feel good is more important than my need to breathe. Maybe if I’m good, he’ll keep me.

He moans and pulls, and calls me a good girl. I suck deeper, until all I can smell is him. The smell of cigarettes that I hate, but crave when I’m with him.

He pulls me off again. I look up and pout, and he’s smiling. No, I’m in control. “You’re rubbing on me”, he laughs, and I am. No, he’s in control.

I turn away in embarrassment and curl up with my eyes closed. I was never in control.

The bed shifts again, and I can’t bear to open them. He settles between my legs and my eyes open. He’s got a condom on and he’s ready to take me.

I’m nervous. He lifts me legs up so they frame his face. He drops kisses on my calves to calm me, and he pushes in. I gasp, and I beg him to stop. I need to get used to him. I hold him where he is, and he stares at me. His thumbs flick across my clit and it’s too much.

He pops out of me and I whimper. I need him in me now. I only just got used to having him back. I shift my hips, the best that I can being folded under him and he teased me.

“Please”, I moan “please please”.

“What? What’s wrong?” A smile.

He rubs his head against my opening, and I try to force myself into him. He’s not having it. The more I move, the further he pulls away to tease me.

“Please, please fuck me”

A moan tears out of mouth and he’s fucking me with all he’s got. I want to fuck him back with the anger I have. I can’t. I’m at his mercy and all I can do is moan his name. He bites and kisses my legs, whilst staring at me.

“I love the faces you pull during sex, makes me wanna cum”

And suddenly my face is pressed into the pillow. Apparently he doesn’t want to cum. He locks my legs between his, I’m prone under him. I can’t even reach down to touch my clit. His weight presses down on me and he slams back in.

I scream, into the pillow. I haven’t felt this full in so long. I’m his. He grabs at my ass, slapping playfully. He’s practically lying on top of me, thrusting into me I feel myself shake. His arms are by my head and all u can do is hold on.I go limp. Feeling just rushing over me. He fucks me with all his might.

He slows down and I sigh happily, ready for him to hold me into the night. He pulls out and moans, looking at my ass and slapping it, marking me as his.

But no, he pulls me on top of me and he wants me to ride him. I can’t! I’m vulnerable,I’m shaking. He guides me on top of him and I sink down. He’s so big, and I’m so full. I moan and I still on top of him.

He waits, and I remember. I remember how he likes it, I rock my hips, furiously giving myself to him. A moan slips out of his mouth, I won! He’s mine. I rock harder, faster and take out my anger on him.

I’m writhing, and my mouth is dropped open. I can’t open my eyes. I feel his hands lock with mine and push me up. He can feel me getting closer. He pushes me to keep going, its too much. I can’t. It feels too good. I can’t.

His hands hold me up, he won’t let me give up, he’s making me own this pleasure. I twitch and shake. I look down at him and he’s telling me to cum, telling me to cum for him. He mutters faster, demanding more. I feel myself cumming and cumming. I can’t. I need to stop. His hands hold me up and he tells me cum for him, and I do. His thumbs are somehow on my clit, bringing me more. I feel like a goddess.

I’m spent, and panting. He looks at me with such pride. My pussy clenches, and I’m ready to keep going. I fuck him harder than I thought possible. He’s moaning and he’s swearing. He meets me mid thrust down, we’re really going at it now, fighting for control.

My eyes watch his carefully and I feel him cum. He grips me tight and cums. I feel his twitch inside me. I slide down to give him a kiss, and clench myself to give him more. I lie on top of him and his arms wrap round me. I’m his.

We lay, breathless and panting. Then he pushes, he pushes at me so I get off. I roll off him, and waves of hurt off me. He doesn’t look at me, and walks away to clean himself up.

I curl into myself and think, what have I done. I lie on my side and wait for him to come back.I should had said no. They told me that he doesn’t deserve me. He told me himself that I’m too good for him. I don’t care though, I want him.

He picks up his phone and he’s texting. He offers the crook of his arm for me to snuggle in. He taps furiously on his phone in Italian. My eyes close and I breathe in his familiar smokey smell. My eyes drift close to his keyboard taps. I fight them desperately, to remember him, our time, his possession of me. I can’t, I’m tired. The last thing I glimpsed was him texting again. He’s texting his girlfriend.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/5ta47a/fm_the_last_time_we_fucked_m25_f22_long