Not Nice

"Come here." He said. She brushed the wet towel and soap to the floor and mounted his cock.

Even tired, their time together drawing to an end it was not like the last time. As she road him, rocking her hips forward and back, the heat building again in her pussy he gripped her tits, pinching her nipples, pulling on them even. She grimaced but didn't make a sound.

She came. It was that simple. How did she not come when she fucked other guys?

"Don't fucking stop now." He said. He pinched her nipples ever harder.

Fuck, she was going to come again. She moved more furtively, rocking purposefully. Deeper and wider he filled her. It built up in her legs; it built in her lower back. She was grunting. She was on edge. If he would do it just a little harder, just pull, she thought, pull my tits, she hoped silently.

"Stop." He said. She couldn't. She was so close. "Fucking stop." He released her tits, his large hand wrapped around her throat. He didn't squeeze, there was no violence in it - it was the threat of violence. He could if he wanted it. That's what was fucking doing it. He could do whatever he wanted to. "Don't move." He said.

They were frozen in time, the only movement a slight twitching of his cock.

He moved his hand from her neck; she was, in some small terrifying way, disappointed.

His hands moved back to her breasts. "Don't move. Don't make a sound. You feel that? You feel my cock. I'm going to fill that sweet little cunt. Fuck you have the sweetest little cunt." He pinched her nipples again and the pain shot straight through to her cunt exactly like he wanted. She felt it clench down.

"Don't fucking move." He said quietly. He pinched again and she squeaked. She couldn't help it. "Shhh. Don't move."

Locked, motionless, he tortured her tits. Each different motion, a pinch, a tease, a twist, a tug, caused a different reaction down deep inside of her. It fucking hurt perfectly.

She felt his stomach tighten between her thighs and then he pulled and twisted in a way that caused her feet to curl. The cry started deep in her stomach and came out as more of a moan than anything else but she felt it, she felt the jizz spilling into her. She felt it filling her in a way she had never felt before and yes, she came, her cunt, as he called it squeezing and clenching his cock to give her every last drop.

She thought they were done and began to smile when he tossed her over. He slipped out of her but when he moved on top he slid himself back in, her fell fucked hole open even to his half hard member. He fucked her until they were both sweating and then fucked on until he fell out of her, the last morsel of energy fucked out of his dick.

This time she allowed herself to curl up on his chest and this time he let her.

It was dark outside; night had come, when finally they rolled out of bed. She went to the shower where she stood under hot water until it went cold and then stood there longer hoping to relieve at least partially some of the redness.

When she finally emerged she found him standing naked in front of the television studying his clothes. She went to her purse, found her phone, and scrolled through seemingly endless messages.

"I am so fucked." She said.

"Thank you."

"You are funny."

"Sorry." He said. In the mirror she attempted to put herself back together in ruined wet clothes with only the most basic of her make-up.

"Do you care how much trouble I'm in?"

"I got the distinct impression you don't want me to care."

She didn't know how to respond to that. She had a defense mechanism for times like this. She simply didn't speak. She was good at it.

She wasn't sure what she wanted him to do. She wanted him to tell her it would be okay. She wanted him to be sweet and feel her pain. She also knew that's what all the others had always done and they had all come and gone. This one, this fucker, he seemed to have different plans. Not especially pleased with her work but knowing she couldn't do any better she left.

He didn't leave the bed.