The Beautiful Kind

He comes over- it’s late at night.

I hate being in the same room with him - it’s torture. I’m drawn to him the way a kid is drawn to a bag of candy - he tastes so good, but is no good for me. I’m no good for him, either. Therefore, we aren’t supposed to fuck. It’s off limits.

I sit far away from him, and he asks why. Like a chess piece, I move to sit next to him. I feel nervous touching his arm.

He suggests we go lie down for a bit, which is an absurd notion, but of course I masochistically go along with it.

It’s a hot night. I turn off the light. We strip and slide under the sheets. I tell him, “Don’t worry, I won’t molest you.” And I don’t, at least not in real life. In my head I’m ripping his cock off and devouring it like a praying mantis.

He’s restless and braces himself above me with his arms. His head drops down and he breathes heavily into my chest. I reluctantly push him off. He strokes my ass, is about to place his hand on my crotch, when I ask, “How come you get to molest me?”

He stops. Dammit.

We lie next to each other, trying to keep it PG, but the sexual tension is unbearable. Still, I’m very tired, and I drift in and out of consciousness. I keep dreaming of him, and then waking up and realizing he’s there. I smell him and feel him, and my cunt won’t let me - won’t let me rest - it keeps twitching and aching, and whispers dirty things right up my core: “I’m hungry. Fill me up. There’s a perfectly good cock in this bed you could use. I want to be fucked.”

All night long I resist, I’m so fitful I could scream.

Finally the grey of dawn arrives, but I’m not really glad for it. I’m horribly disappointed, frustrated, don’t think I can possibly face the day…

I angrily shove my ass his way, and at the same time he turns and presses his rock hard cock between my cheeks. God thank God.

And just like that he swiftly pins me face down, pushes between my trembling thighs, and jabs at my begging cunt. With a thrust of his pelvis, he finds his mark. No warm up, no foreplay, we go from zero to fucking in the blink of an eye. My cunt is gloating, laughing at me, living it up.

He only waits to hear me scream a few times before pulling out and cumming all over my back. I expect him to get a towel, but instead he just fingerpaints with it, rubs it in until it dries.

“God that was torture!” I gasp.

He laughs. “But it was fun.”

I wear him the rest of the day.