I’m standing on his porch, waiting to be let inside. His house is really nice. I imagine what it’d be like to live here too, in some future where I garden on the weekends.
We haven’t been seeing each other lately. He knows I’m fucking other people. What am I supposed to do? Move into his nice house, replace his ex wife, and grow old with him?
He doesn’t pull me into the usual big hug when he opens the door. His hands stay in his pockets.
We make small talk in his foyer until he slams his hand down on the entry table, shaking the piece of art above it.
“I can’t fucking do this.” He’s almost shaking, looking down at the table. “Is this what you want? Making bullshit small talk?” He asks me.
“No,” I say.
We look at each other. He softens.
“Go upstairs.”
His bed is comfortable. I lie there thinking about the other people I’ve fucked recently. Hands crossed over my stomach, I feel nervous for some reason.
He comes upstairs with drinks. I don’t recognize the glasses, they must be new. I make the ice clink around. I like the sound. It distracts me from not knowing exactly what to say.
“They’re new. I thought they were pretty.” I picture this dude looking for pretty glasses in some Crate and Barrel. I imagine him picking each one up, all of them looking too small and a little funny in his big hands.
He takes the glass from my hand and puts it on his bedside table. It’s a cute midcentury piece I found on Craigslist that we drove out to the middle of fucking nowhere together to pick up.
“Tell me what you’ve been doing.” He says pressing himself against me.
“I can’t…”
How do I tell this man I’ve been enjoying letting other men fuck me senseless and degrade me. He holds me and calls me beautiful and sweet everytime he sees me. He’s not naturally the “you’re a fucking slut” type.
He grabs my arms and shakes me against the bed. Fuck, feeling rattled against the bed feels good.
“Tell me what you’ve been doing with my pussy,” he growls into my ear.
“You know…” I say embarrassed. He’s still ontop of me and I’m glad he can’t see my face.
“Who told you that was okay?”
“No one…” I admit, my face getting hot.
“Huh? Who told you that was okay?” His voice lower, angrier.
I can’t respond. I just bite his shoulder.
He gets up and says, “You don’t even deserve to be on my bed. Get on the fucking floor.”
Holy fucking shit. When I slink down to the floor, I see myself in his mirror. My ears are bright red.
“Bend over.” I do as he says.
He kneels behind me and presses my head into the rug. He smushes it down as if I’m some bug he’s trying to squish out of his life, out of his heart.
“Is it as good?”
I shake my head.
“Say it.” He presses.
“No,” I admit.
“Then why… the fuck… are you doing it?” He’s pushing me against the floor with each word.
“I don’t fucking know.” I yell back. “Please just fuck me.” I beg.
He unzips his pants and shoves his cock inside me. I cry out and pull forward. He’s usually patient and kind. He doesn’t seem to care right now though, which turns me on.
“You’re going to take it however I give it to you.”
I moan in response. It hurts really good.
“I don’t care. Fucking take it.” He grabs my shoulder for better leverage and gives it to me harder with each thrust.
A pause. I look back at him. His eyes meet mine and then he shoves his cock really hard the rest of the way. It feels good to be so completely fucked that I moan loudly and my legs begin to shake around him.
“This is my fucking pussy you’ve been whoring around.”
That turns me on and makes me smile.
“You like that, huh. Being a little whore”
“Maybe…”
“Well, you’re really fucking good at it.”
The side of my face and my chest are raw from rubbing against the rug. He keeps calling me a whore and slapping my ass. When he’s not slapping it, he’s grabbing my ass so hard that I’m not sure which one hurts more.
My brain feels like jello, no thoughts, just jiggling in time with his fucking. Relief, pleasure, and shame all wash over me. He starts playing with my clit and I come, quick and hard.
“I want you to think about them while I fuck you,” he says. He means the other men I’ve slept with.
“I can’t,” I say. It feels wrong. I don’t want to think about them.
“I said, think about them,” he repeats.
“No.” I say again.
He gets close to my ear and says that I’m his whore and that’s what he wants. That he wants me to think of all of them at the same time.
So I do it. As some strange penance. I imagine all the men I’ve fucked while he fucks me. It’s hot and dirty and neither of us is saying anything anymore, we’re both just so into the same thought. All these men using me.
I play the highlight reel in my head, the one I use when I’m by myself, getting off. I think of them coming all over me, my face, my tits, my ass. I think of the way they look when they’re behind me, hands on my ass, fucking me while I’m bent over. I think of all of their hands all over me, at the same time, so many hands touching and grabbing me everywhere.
He starts fucking me so hard that I can’t think anymore. I can’t imagine any of the other men, I try to picture their faces but my attention keeps getting dragged away to the intense feeling of what he’s doing to me.
He can tell. That’s what he wanted. To own me, to dominate me and all the other people I’ve been with.
“You’re my fucking whore.”
“Mine.”
I can feel he’s close. His cock is so full and his thrusts are deep and long. He pulls out and comes all over my ass.
He gets up and hands me a towel. Normally he would run it under hot water and then come wipe me off. That’s not really the vibe right now. I’m awkwardly trying to wipe my ass and back off.
He goes to his wallet and pulls out a wad of cash. He slips it into the back pocket of my jeans on his way out of the room.
I put my clothes on and meet him downstairs. He’s back to his normal self. I’m not really sure what to say. The wad of cash feels fat in my back pocket. I think about giving it back. Maybe he was just really committed to the whore narrative.
“That was uh, really good.” He says from his couch.
I stand in the doorway. “Worth it?” I ask him.
“Yeah,” he laughs, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna ask for my money back.”
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/u6h64l/when_the_sex_was_so_good_he_left_1000_for_it_fm