Poppy Ch. 01

Coming inside Poppy was always a scenario in particular that I had eagerly anticipated. I suppose, not only is it the logical conclusion, but I always felt there to be something so wonderful in filling an unwilling with the material consequences of one's own selfish, carnal pleasure.

But the feeling - the feeling of coming inside my writhing little girl, is just... perfection. As she shakes violently in response, it only serves to intensify the (fuck it, various positive superlatives...) stimulation.

*

I've been regarding her for around five minutes now; lapping up these numerous delights as the extent of both of our breathing remains as likely medically concerning. The look of shame on her face is wholly evident. She can't look at me - she can't look at herself. She's just staring blankly over my shoulder at the ceiling, not even crying anymore. I wonder if she even has any tears left. I'm sure I'll find some.

I lingeringly pull out of her - breaking her glazed expression as she winces.

'There now, that wasn't so bad was it beautiful?' I whisper. She merely moans despondently. Really I'm actually quite surprised at the remaining menace in my own voice, and I realise how far the extent of my continuing determination is a reality throughout my entire being. I've never before felt so much like I wanted to fuck so soon after. But I've plenty of time now, and rushing things doesn't fit with the tortuous nature of my plans.

Dawn is breaking.

She clearly has barely any strength left, so it's not difficult for me to re-tie both of her wrists to my bed frame. Following a swift kiss on her nose, reluctantly, I withdraw myself entirely from her space.

'I'll be back for you in a few hours sweetheart. You need to rest'.

I quickly gather the attire that I'd readied earlier that night from my desk chair and head to the door. Stealing a glance at Poppy as I open said door to leave, I feel a pleasant warmth in my stomach as I register that she can barely keep her eyes open.

'Sweet dreams beautiful'.