leigh [m/f] (repost from tumblr) | 2016

"You wanna come meet my cat?" Trashed. At the hard-partying, working class pub with the craft bourbon and djs playing Huggy Bear and Unrest records. We all hung out there, but I could no longer remember what brought me.

I wasn’t one for double entendres or cutesy nonsense. I remembered the words of two friends, years before. They were a couple then, long since broken up. “Leigh wants to fuck you.”

"If you hurt her, I’ll fuck you up," the man said. He was lying. I was with Joelle anyway, and had to tell them. Ages of hostility between Leigh and Joelle.

Leigh dated spindly, reserved men. Not like me. She still looked at me like she needed to be devoured. I never wanted to but, heartbroken then, was going to take her. Wasn’t sure if our friends would find out. Wasn’t sure if I cared, but people would think I had taken advantage of her.

Rode her to her apartment in a med students’ neighborhood. She was back in school to be a nurse. She was the great niece of a famous golden age actress but I didn’t think she was wealthy. Apartment was modest, shared with her sister. They both had the same sandy natural blonde hair, the same thin lips, big robust asses and curvy thighs. Leigh was much bustier and much shorter than her sister. Always dressed too preciously in pastel sundresses and 60s northern soul affectations. I ripped her blouse as we walked in, buttons popping and scattering across the hardwood and she growled, spinning and kissing me.

She was much more aggressive than I would have ever imagined. She bit my lip. I tasted blood. Scratching, pulling my beard, tearing at my clothes. Wouldn’t let her rip them, I pinned her wrists together with one hand. Fighting me off.

She was all pink and covered in freckles. Teal frills on her bra, again too delicate. Like a wild animal, covering me with the worst, sloppiest kisses I had ever been subjected to. My cock was hard, angry, stormy.

Her hands weren’t soft. Her grip was tight as I recalled that she played a lot of video games. The speed with which she beat my dick made me wonder if she thought that’s how everyone did it. I bet that other guys came quick with this. She gave a mean handjob. Thought she probably wasn’t used to uncut men and felt like she was going to dismember me. Her other hand’s nails were digging deep into my thigh.

I pulled her over to straddle me and felt that she was already soaking. So wet I wondered if she was sweating, but the air conditioning in her room was cool. She stopped trying so desperately to make me cum with her hands and gripped my throat. I barely touched her before she was groaning and growling again.

I ripped her bra off and her breasts dropped out. I tried to bury my face into them and touch her at the same time but felt her trying to pull me into her. Held her off and the teasing drove her mad.

She screamed. I took her tiny nipple between my teeth and circled her slick pussy rapidly in my hand. Holding her off me made her body buck with her first orgasm; so over the top that I thought she might have been faking, but she lost complete control of her body.

Condom on and inside her from behind as she was still confused as to exactly what her body had been through. Her hair at the nape of her neck in my fist. I was too drunk to hold anything back and was slamming my body against her as hard and as fast as I possibly could. She was screaming but not protesting and I didn’t know how much was pain or pleasure. Her cum was all over the back of her thighs, her ass, on my legs and driving up towards my stomach with each thrust.

She lunged to get away from me and grumbled that she wanted to ride me. She was enthusiastic, athletic. Still a fucking mess. I felt a hard slap across my face as my eyes were closed, my hair in her fist pulling my head back. Biting my neck, biting my shoulder. Slapping me again. I found this funny, cute. I allowed her to do her thing.

She leaned back, pinched her own nipples, loudly let go. The wetness was audible and I was sitting in a puddle that had spilled out of her. When she finished I lifted her up and threw her onto the bed, wanting to fuck her from behind again and watch her big round pale ass shimmy as I plowed into it.

I was relentless and she was hoarse. I didn’t give a fuck and told her she was being a good girl. This seemed to drive her up a wall. I no longer cared who found out. As a matter of fact, I wanted them all to know I tamed this secret freak and fucked the daylights out of her. She demanded I spank her and I delivered. I realized she was touching herself as I pumped in and out of her.

When she came again I pushed her forward and she fell to the floor. We laughed. She crawled over and bit my thigh, hard. Ripped the condom off and sucked my cock. She was masterful, and I stood and watched in awe, her hands twisting over my spit-covered cock.

Still too drunk to cum. Didn’t care. She told me to cum and I said “fuck you. Keep sucking.” Responded that her jaw and little pussy were too sore. I told her I didn’t care. I really didn’t. It was the middle of the night and we passed out naked together, her cheek nuzzled into my chest hair.

When I woke up I immediately regretted having fucked her, which was incredibly rare for me. Her room in the morning light was all pink and decorated with kittens. She said she wanted to try again and found another condom. She rode me slowly for a few minutes and with a great huff said she couldn’t any longer.

I no longer wanted our friends to know. She’d be back in a little vintage dress with a bow in her hair and they’d think I, the big brutish savage, ravaged her or ruined her. I wondered if her girlfriends knew that she was such a hunter, so rough and spunky and arresting.

About a year later at a mutual friends’ wedding, we had a repeat performance. This time, embarrassingly enough, it played out in a rather public way with her climbing all over me and drunkenly telling everyone what we had done the summer previous.

Originally posted at revolutionarylibertine