Hate was too strong a word...(M/F) | 2016

There is a long-standing truth to certain things. To name two, crazy people are typically better in bed... and angry sex can be the best sex. This story revolves around the latter, shortly after a fairly contentious breakup.

I'd had a girlfriend living with me for several months. After some "internal disputes" over tedious relationship drama, things between us gradually deteriorated. I didn't hate her towards the end - but there were aspects of her that I despised. She was a bit of a drama queen and played the "wounded animal" far too often - make an off-hand comment and she limped around as though you've stabbed her in the gut until you're guilted into apologizing.

...but this story isn't about how terrible our relationship had become - it's about how it ended: with a bang.

We'd officially "broken up" at this stage - she was in the process of finding her own place once more and splitting up our shared belongings. The apartment was in shambles and I was stressed and annoyed. She'd waited until the very last moment to do anything about moving. After sniping at one another throughout the day, the stress reached a peak where I just wanted her gone. She was in the bedroom digging through our nightstand and muttering to herself (another annoying trait) when she appeared in the doorway and yelled for me to help her check the closet shelves for a folder or something of the sort.

"You could ask nicely." I said, getting up from the computer and heading towards the bedroom. She was still standing in the doorway, scowling, turning on her heel and starting into the room.

I should note at this point that we'd stopped having sex a month or so before - when you're that annoyed with someone, you typically don't want them anymore. This was the case for us.

...but something about her scowl and the way she spun caught my eye - and I was staring at her shorts-covered ass as she stepped back into the room, still in arms reach. Without really thinking about it I reached forward and gave her a solid swat on the ass. She spun around, mouth open to say something, and there was just something about the way she looked right then. I can't really describe it - disarmed, maybe?

I'd given her spankings before - not like a true Dom/sub experience like I'd had in the past (she wasn't into it) - but playful swats during sex and not much else. But then? I was compelled. I gave her a light push towards the bed and she backed up until her legs banged up against the frame. I grabbed her and turned her, pushing her forward so that she was bent over, her elbows resting on the comforter. She didnt' say a word... maybe she was stunned? But I was in the moment - I couldn't stop myself. I yanked down her shorts (she was wearing a lovely peach thong, as an aside) and she made no sign of moving. So I gave her another hard swat on her near-bare ass. She whimpered, but didn't move. The frustration and annoyance I felt suddenly came out... I began to spank her in earnest - making her pale white ass glow red in short order.

This entire exchange was silent save for the SMACK of my hand on her ass and her whimpers and whines. At one point she looked over her shoulder at me, mouth agape, and I saw that she was enjoying herself. Let's be honest - I was, too - I had found an outlet that I'd long been denied (or denied myself?) and pushed it to it's limits. After I'd made her ass glow I yanked off the thong and let it drop to join her shorts around her ankles. She stepped out of both, still mostly quiet, and seemed to push her ass towards me. I was already hard - giving a good spanking always did this to me, annoyed or not, and I quickly pushed my gym shorts and boxer-briefs off to the floor and kicked them aside. With no word or invitation I positioned myself and slid eagerly - and quite easily - inside her. To my surprise, she was soaked - something she hadn't been since we'd first started dating when she was the insatiable nymph and before things had faded dull.

I fucked her - hard - letting every single bit of my frustration speak through my cock - she thrust back against me, welcoming it, whispering my name and - oddly - saying she was sorry from time to time between moans and gasps. She had begun to work her own clit between her legs and the spiteful part of me knew I would cum easily and soon if I allowed myself... so I redoubled my efforts. I slammed into her as hard as I could without truly hurting her (or myself). Distantly I considered filling her with cum as a reminder of this fun (she was on the pill and we were exclusive, so no need for condoms), but instead I pushed myself until I felt the first shudders of orgasm hit me. I pulled out of her and sprayed her still-red ass cheeks - weeks of pent-up cum gushing over her in almost "porn star" amount. I knew she'd asked me to wait - to cum with her - but I didn't. I smirked at her, still panting and bent over the bed, her hand still feverishly working her clit and my cum dripping down her ass and bare thighs - grabbed my shorts and underwear - and left her there.

After I sat down at the computer I heard her groan in frustration and she appeared in the doorway again, arms folded and breathing heavily. She was still bottomless and her pussy was glowing red from the fucking and her own administrations.

"Fuck you." She said, and then went back into the bedroom.

"Fuck you, too." I replied. I was smirking to myself the rest of the evening.

It wasn't the last time we played - up until she got a new boyfriend (and once while) we were our "in-between" lovers. It was better that way for us - no drama and we actually respected each other more, I think, without all the baggage.