Friday, 10 February 2012


I always dreamed about being fucked brutally. Being roughed up. I expressly asked MBH to do that.
But he would not.
I understand. He is emotionally connected to me and for all his dominant play he would not go as far as I wanted him to.

Don't get me wrong. He tried. I loved it. But his heart wasn't in it.

So... I met this guy online. Eager, younger than me, bright as fuck and funny with it. A sure way to madame's heart.

We chatted for a while online. He is a cocky fucker. But I could tell that he was oscillating between an unbridled desire for me, being in awe of me and just wanting to dominate me. Good combination.  I was in control and yet, I was looking forward to giving the control to him.

We met in a hotel of my choice. He was late. I was ready. I wore a beautiful see-through but stunningly classy dress. AP bra, AP stockings, heels, and no knickers. By the time we were half way through our drinks and I could see his eyes racing up and down of me I was done.

Shall we? I just said.

In the lift, I turned my face against the wall. He stood behind me. He reached between my legs and pushed his fingers inside me. I was dripping wet. We walked out the lift and he stopped me for a second and put his fingers into my mouth. I could taste myself on his fingers and gasped. We walked into the room. I walked over towards the bed and just stood there. He was behind me. Hard as rock, his heavy pulsating cock behind me. I swayed my hips to brush against it and then obediently placed my elbows on the bed, my arse high in the air. And he started spanking me. Hard. Very hard. It hurt and every stroke made my cunt wetter and wetter. By the end of it I was dripping, my thighs wet and expecting.

I reached out to kiss him. And then I had a brutal awakening. His hand grabbing my hair and pulling my hair back. Ouch ouch. Ouch, fuck you you, I hissed.  A knee separating my legs. Fuck you, I hissed again, my legs opening again with the force of his knee and me teasingly and aggressively swaying against him.

"Come on.Go on. Don't fuck me", I sad with all the insolence of a fuck toy. No response.

I turned over on the bed, and kicked him. Hard. His hands locked around my ankles pulling me down. I felt him collapse on top of me. There was a fury rising in me. As I pummeled him with my hands, then reached out to bite and I succeeded, drawing a dark bruise on his arm. As my teeth were reeling from the satisfactory grab, I got a hard slap on the face.
And then another slap. Hard. My jaw pulsated with acute pain.


I laughed manically.

It disconcerted him. I liked it.

We ended up fucking like animals. Bruising, pulling hair, him resisting me and me just kicking off at a merest provocation.

Funnily enough, we came together, shaking and shivering like a pair of dogs on heat. It almost never happened to me before. Like all the aggression and violence culminated in one explosion.

The day after, I was stiff and bruised. My nipples hurt and my thighs bore his teeth marks.

I don't want to see him again. That one time was enough.

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