Little Something I Worked On. Hope You Like It 😊😊

Little something I worked on. Hope you like it 😊😊

I hated him.

I hated the way he could unravel me so easily, the way he knew exactly where to push, where to press, where to hold me down and make me lose myself.

And I especially hated the way I was already soaked for him, my thighs trembling, my body betraying every snarled insult I spat at him.

“I hate you,” I gasped, my voice ragged, shaking as he shoved me against the wall, his body everywhere, heat and muscle and control.

He laughed, dark and cruel. “I know.”

Then his hand slid between my legs.

I choked on a gasp as his fingers teased through my slick folds, pressing against my clit just enough to make me shudder.

“Look at this,” he murmured, dragging his fingers through the wetness, spreading it, making me feel just how much I was soaking for him. “And you have the nerve to tell me you don’t want this?”

“I don’t—”

He slapped my pussy, just enough to make me jolt, my whole body clenching around nothing.

“Try again, bunny.” His voice was low, dripping with warning, with mockery. “Say it without shaking this time.”

I couldn’t.

Because my body was trembling, my thighs squeezing together, my breath coming in desperate, ragged pulls.

His smirk was slow, dangerous. “That’s what I thought.”

Then he was lifting me, his grip bruising, spreading me wide as he pressed me against the wall, his cock grinding against my slit, hot and throbbing.

I twisted, trying to push against his chest, to get space, but he just held me tighter, his hand closing around my throat, forcing me to look at him.

“Beg me,” he said simply.

My eyes flashed. “Fuck you.”

He smirked. “You will.”

Then he teased me, the thick head of his cock dragging against my entrance, pressing in just an inch before pulling back.

I whined.

Actually whined.

His grip on my throat tightened slightly, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “There she is,” he murmured. “My needy little bunny. You want me to fuck you so bad, don’t you?”

“No—”

He pushed in just a little, stretching me open—then stopped.

My whole body arched, desperate to take more, to feel more, but his grip on my throat kept me still.

“Say it,” he ordered. “Tell me how much you want it.”

My breath was ragged, my body shaking, every nerve ending screaming for more. “I—I don’t—“

Another slow, teasing thrust, just barely pushing deeper before stopping again.

I sobbed, nails digging into his arms. “Please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please just—just fuck me,” I whimpered, my voice breaking.

His growl was pure satisfaction, his cock throbbing against my entrance. “Knew you’d say it eventually.”

And then he slammed into me.

My scream was pure, raw pleasure, my body taking him so deep, stretching around him, molding to him.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his teeth scraping along my jaw, owning me. “So fucking tight. Taking me so fucking well.”

I should have fought harder. Should have pushed back. But all I could do was whimper, my legs wrapping around him, my nails clawing at his shoulders as he fucked me hard, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air.

“You love this,” he growled against my throat. “Say it.”

I bit my lip, shaking my head even as my hips rolled to meet his thrusts.

His hand slid down, fingers rubbing viciously over my clit, making me wail.

“Say it,” he commanded, his breath hot against my ear.

“I—” My whole body clenched, my release building so fast it was terrifying. “I—I love it. Fuck, I love it—”

“That’s my good fucking girl,” he groaned, fucking me harder, deeper, his hands holding me exactly where he wanted me. “And now?” His voice dropped, dark and final. “Now I’m going to fill you up.”

My breath caught. “No—”

“Yes,” he snarled, thrusting deeper, making sure I felt every inch. “You begged me for it, bunny. Now you’re going to take all of me.”

“No—”

But he wasn’t listening.

He slammed into me one final time, burying himself to the hilt, his cock throbbing as he spilled inside me, thick ropes of heat filling me up, making me feel how fucking ruined I was.

I was still shaking, still gasping, my body wrecked, when he leaned in, lips brushing my temple, voice smug and possessive.

“Mine.”

And the worst part?

I was.

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The wandering mind of a woman in her fifties. Married for over 30 years. No children, two dogs and a lot of travel

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