This post was originally published on my previous blog.
I like to be undressed slowly, carefully, my shirt peeled off, my jeans unbuttoned and wiggled down my legs, my overflowing bra unclasped and pulled away to reveal already hard nipples. And my panties…I like when my lover lays me down, grabs my hips, and slowly claims them as his own. Being undressed slowly and carefully like that is beautiful.
There was nothing beautiful about the final night D was here.
We crawled under the sheets to “go to sleep,” both knowing that we weren’t tired. It was only a few minutes before he pulled me over to his side of the bed and I was laying on his chest.
“I’m trying to be good,” I giggled, wishing he didn’t have to leave the next morning.
“Don’t. Don’t ever be good around me, babygirl.”
I wasn’t really D’s babygirl anymore, but it still felt nice when he called me that. I hadn’t been since we agreed to go our separate ways last fall. He was in town this weekend to finish out a contract, but his work wouldn’t bring him back again. This was it.
His cock was already hard in his pants when his hand led mine to it, and my pussy was already wet by the time his boxers were around his ankles. He pushed my head down as he struggled out his t-shirt, and I didn’t take him out of my mouth for more than a second as he yanked mine over my head. God I missed sucking his cock. I missed that little twitch when I first took him in my mouth, and the way he moaned under his breath as I pulled him in deeper and deeper.
I missed the way he looked when I stared up at him, my eyes pleading for him to face fuck me until I gagged. I missed the way he knew exactly how far to push me before slowing and allowing me to catch my breath. I missed sucking gently, watching his face as he wound his hand in my hair, ready to speed up again at exactly the right time. Rough and then gentle. And then rough again until I felt myself sink into subspace for him. He knew what I wanted, because it was what he wanted too. Between the sheets, we could read one another perfectly.
It was for the best, us ending things.
Our final few months together, we had done nothing but fight. He didn’t love me anymore, even though he said he did. He loved the idea of me. He loved the girl he had met, all those years ago, before I was a real human with real emotional and medical needs. Before he knew that I was a hot mess.
And maybe he did love that hot mess at times. Just not enough to figure out how to stop me from self-destructing all the time. I don’t blame him. I am not an easy girl to love. He didn’t know how to tame me, and we just kept frustrating each other. Our relationship was toxic. At it’s best, it was the best. Problem was, the best days were becoming fewer and farther between. It was right for him to leave, and it was right for me not to follow.
But I missed this.
He moaned as I sucked, his cock already nearly throbbing, needing me. I missed him needing me. Whatever happened between us outside of the bedroom, I was the only girl he had ever truly needed this way, he had told me. I crawled under his skin and made him shiver and lose control.
“No girl ever made me lose control before,” he had told me the night we had said goodbye as he packed the last of his stuff in the moving truck. “And if I have my way, no girl ever will again. We don’t work, Rors. But this was still important.”
He sat up slightly and pulled me up so my lips met his. I crawled on top of him, feeling just the tip of his cock enter my slit. He hesitated, enjoying the wetness and warmth, before he pushed me down and simultaneously thrust upward, impaling me on his cock.
I cried out with a gurgle, my pussy so fucking lonely since seeing D last. There was no time tonight to “make love.” There was no time to stare into one another’s eyes. There was no time for beautiful undressing.
I needed him to fuck me, and I needed him to fuck me NOW.
He grabbed my hips and flipped me over, pushing my face down so my ass was in the air…and he fucked me. Hard. Furious. The kind of fucking you do when you haven’t fucked anyone in a long time and you don’t know if you’ll get to fuck again.
And he wasn’t my owner anymore. Submission, especially in bed, is part of me, but I no longer had to ask permission to cum, holding back my cries unless he allowed them, as he had demanded when we were together. I could cum when I wanted. Hell, I could…make requests.
And so, I did.
“Fuck me harder,” I growled, looking back at D. “Ughhhh…right there. Fuck my pussy. Pull my hair.”
He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Babygirl, you know I don’t take commands. But I have to admit… that looks good on you. Say it again.”
“Fuck me harder,” I said again, “Fuck me so hard I forget my name.”
“Oh fuck, Rori.” He grabbed a handful of my hair and began to thrust harder, deep into me. I arched my back and thrust back against him until I was screaming. He spanked me, hard, once, twice, again and again until I could feel my ass getting red and warm.
“I’m going to cum all over your cock. Please make me cum, Sir,” I whimpered.
There was electricity in the air with that word. Sir. I hadn’t said it in so long. I felt his cock throbbing, and he half-grunted, half-moaned as I called him Sir. He missed it. He missed me calling him that as much as I missed saying it.
It was unspoken between us: this would be the last time.
Tomorrow, he was going back to his new home in Texas. To his new life without me. To his new job that would no longer require him to travel. There was nothing to bring him to the East Coast ever again.
Except me. Except us. And us wasn’t a good enough reason anymore.
He spanked me hard again and didn’t stop thrusting. I drew in ragged breaths every time his hand made contact, wanting so desperately for the feeling to sear into my mind, so I could remember it long after the mark had faded.
“Say it again, Rors,” he hissed into my ear, leaning down over me.
“Please make me cum. Sir.”
“Oh fuuuuuck…” He slammed into me, and bit my shoulder hard. I wanted him to leave a mark.
“Harder. Please, Sir. Harder. I’m going to cum for you.”
He growled into my shoulder. “Cum on my cock, babygirl.”
I cried out as my pussy convulsed before he even finished that sentence. Life was slow motion as he laid down on the bed and pulled me on top of him again. My hips swiveled, him still inside of me, and he hugged me close, a hand on the small of my back. He thrust up into me, his movements getting erratic as we both panted. I reached behind me and stroked his balls, sending him over the edge. I felt him twitch, and he burst inside of me.
The world stopped for a second. It wasn’t beautiful.
But it was perfect.
“Cum on my cock, babygirl,” he had said.
One last time, we had both thought.
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