We’d been kind of seeing each other for a few weeks. It started pretty normal. We work at the same hospital: she’s a nurse and I work in administration.
I noticed her the first time she came into my office area, I mean how could I not. She’s beautiful. Not like that Instagram model with the heavy filters and perfectly enhanced hourglass figure, but a natural femininity with a gorgeous smile and striking eyes. Even her scrubs hinted at curves worth inspecting more closely – just enough to hold onto, you know?
We made small talk in the hallways a few times before I made up a pretense to get her number. We didn’t see each other very often at work, but we started texting each other pretty regularly. Before long we were flirting through text which quickly grew heavier and more intimate.
We’d send each other dirty jokes and ask each other personal questions. We talked about normal stuff too: career goals, pet peeves, childhood memories, etc., but the sexual tension was high.
My favorite game became seeing if I could ask her a question she wouldn’t answer: favorite position, spit or swallow, weirdest place she’d had sex. She’d always laugh and send that eye roll emoji, but she answered every question and would throw back one of her own.
Before long we agreed to go out on a date, and found the quickest time we were both free. The dates had gone fairly well. I enjoyed her company, and she looked even better in regular clothes than she did in scrubs.
There was a definite difference in her when we were together though. She was much more subdued, more reserved. She didn’t laugh as much when we were out as she did at work. The conversations, while not flat, were not as open and engaging as they had been.
It felt like without the shield of work professionalism or the faceless anonymity of text she was more timid and self conscious. It was like in person she put up a wall between us.
We’d had sex a couple times by then, and it was good – I mean it’s sex, it’s almost always good. From our texts I knew her experiences were much more vanilla than my usual tastes, but even still there wasn’t the enthusiasm or sexual tension we’d shared over text.
Tonight we were going to relax at my place and watch a movie or something and I’d decided to broach the subject with her. I’m a huge proponent of open communication and addressing a problem head on. If she wasn’t comfortable around me yet and wanted to take it slow, I wanted to know. And if she wasn’t actually all that interested in continuing seeing each other then I’d rather us part ways now, with no hard feelings and having enjoyed the experience. I really liked her, and wanted things to work out, but if they weren’t going to I’d rather know sooner than later.
We had a couple drinks over dinner – I’m not a 5 star chef but I know my way around a kitchen – and we’re sitting on the couch nursing drinks and chatting. I brought up my concerns, attempting to be straightforward but gentle. I can have a tendency to be a little over bearing and I wanted to make sure she felt the freedom to express herself honestly.
After I’d said my bit and asked her how she felt, I waited. She took few moments to respond. I could almost see herself physically bolster her courage to respond truthfully.
“I know you’re right,” she said eventually. “I do like you. I know I’m terrible at showing that. Honestly I’m just really shy. I’ve always been that way.
“I can kind of fake it at work. It’s easier to put on my work face at the hospital and be who I want to be … or who I really am … I don’t know.”
“That’s ok,” I responded. “I don’t mind taking time. I think you’re worth the wait. If it takes a while for you to feel comfortable then I’ll give you all the time you need. I want to know the real you.”
“Yeah?”
“Definitely.”
She smiled sweetly. “I may need you to push me a little. It’s hard for me to open up.”
I laughed. “Pushing you is definitely something I can do. I’ve been accused of being a little too pushy at times.”
She smiled demurely. “I like when you’re pushy.”
“Just tell me if I get too pushy.”
“Ok. I will.”
I set my drink down, took her face in my hands and kissed her.
We made out on the couch for a while. Eventually our clothes came off and I ended up on top of her on the couch. It was good, better even. Like the connection between us had grown and there was more of an openness to her. She was still reserved but not quite as much.
After a few minutes I pulled out of her and flipped her onto her stomach. She got on her hands and knees and I knelt behind her. I grabbed her hips as I thrust myself back into her.
She was so damn sexy and her body felt so good. I was starting to loose myself in the moment, but felt like I needed to hold back. I worried if I took her the way I wanted she’d be uncomfortable. I didn’t want the cravings take over and free the demons inside me – I didn’t want to scare her away.
It was a torment. The desire for more battling the desire to respect her feelings. My body ached to ravish her, consume her, devour her. My mind, at least a part of my mind, wanted to support her and show her worth.
In a moment of impulsive weakness, the needs of my body overwhelmed my rational mind. It’s not something I’d normally do – communication and consent is important – but my mind blanked out with the desire to break loose the barriers standing between us.
I slapped her ass. Hard. My hand stung from the impact and left a bright red mark on her ass. She let out a squeal and flinched away from me in surprise. But she quickly pushed herself back down on my cock.
She hadn’t completely pulled away. She didn’t say a word of protest. So I slapped her again. She gasped again and this time she slammed her self back against me harder.
It was the most reaction I’d seen out of her yet. I slapped her ass twice more. She dropped face first onto the couch, leaving her ass up in the air. Rather than retreating, she was responding to me.
I continued to thrust into her, and spanked her ass several more times. I grabbed onto her hips and pounded myself into her, slow, forceful thrusts. “You like it don’t you?” I growled.
She groaned an nearly animalistic hiss that sounded kind of like a “yesss”. It was like her brain had shut off and her body was reacting on some instinctual level.
“Fuck,” I said as I continued to slam into her. Each thrust gave me more of her, breaking through the timid, conservative facade she’d put up. And each thrust threw fuel on the fire of my need for more of her.
I reached forward and twisted her hair into a pony tail. I pulled her head up by her hair, forcing her to arch her back. Her beasts swayed and ass jiggled with each powerful thrust. She was an exquisite sight.
“This is how you need it, isn’t it?”
“Oh god. Yes,” she gasped.
I could feel her pussy clenching on my cock, making wet slurping noises as I pummeled her. “God you’re a sexy little thing,” I said.
I pulled her up till her head was resting on my shoulder and ran a hand up her stomach, over her breasts and around her neck. I put just a little pressure on her throat. Not enough to choke her, but just enough to hold her in place.
I eased my pace a little, thrusting with even, steady strokes and slid my hand down between her legs. Her back was arched in what must have been an uncomfortable angle, but she didn’t protest – like she was surrendering control of her body to me.
I rubbed her clit, matching the rhythm of my thrusts. “You’re secretly a dirty little slut, aren’t you? Desperate to have your body used like it was meant to be.”
She groaned wordlessly and started moving her hips, grinding herself against my hand. I felt her rhythm and matched her pace, giving her what she needed. I took my hand off her throat and grabbed her breast, squeezing while pinching her nipple between my fingers.
“Oh fuck. Fuck. Oh god,” she moaned. I felt her body tense and quiver against me as she began to cum. I continued my pace, riding out her movements until she sagged against me.
I didn’t give her the chance to catch her breath. I shoved her face down into the couch again. I kept a hand on the back of her neck, holding her down as I started fucking her harder.
I grabbed her hip with my other hand, dragging her back in time with my thrusts. “Fuck you feel good,” I moaned.
I had to put one foot on the floor as I jack hammered into her. I gave in to my demons and unleashed my need to devour her. She made short grunting noises with each impact, taking my aggression and need. “Fuck, I’m going to cum,” I roared.
She let out a groan of agonizing bliss as I erupted inside her. Her body jerked and quivered, cumming at the same time as me.
“Fuuuck,” I groaned as I continued to grind, using her body to milk my cock dry.
I collapsed on top of her, both of us panting for breath and dripping with sweat. I tried to speak but all I could manage were mumbled growls.
She made subtle wiggling motions with her hips, as if savoring the feeling of me growing limp inside her. “Mmmm,” she purred. “Thank you.”
I saw red creeping into her face as she realized what she’d just said. With the hormones subsiding her shyness was returning and I could see her retreating behind her walls again.
I kissed her on the cheek. “No,” I said. “Don’t go away. That was amazing and I need the real you to stay here with me.”
A quiet, contented smile took over her face. “Yeah? I think I’d like that too.”