Laughing playfully.

"Auw" I chuckle.

Whispering under my breath.

In a sort of painful glee.

Pleasure and exhilaration, yet there's a clear sting.

That hurts.

He is sucking my breasts.

And then he suddenly bites me.

The motherfucker.

He bites me hard too.

I whisper to him: be gentle with my breasts.

I'm a schoolmistress instructing him.

Ms. Slut telling of the naughty, unruly schoolboy.

He becomes more gentle.

And only sucks the nipple now.

Carefully.

He concentrates.

Wants to give me pleasure now.

Obeys.

Suddenly he looks up.

And spits me right in my face.

What the fuck!

A pause. A silence. Not a brief one actually.

It's kinda long.

What did he just do?

What is this nonsense? Crosses my mind.

What an absolutely prick, too.

But then he laughs.

And I do too.

Maybe my face laughed before I knew it did.

And that's why he laughed.

But we laugh.

He fucking just spat me right in the face.

Very inappropriate, that.

I should have had a ‘Yes-means-yes’ with this one.

Disobedient brat.

But then I can't help it. And laugh full on.

"You sick bastard" I say.

"With an energy far from the sexual.

Too much laughing.

He starts kissing me. And my face.

"My face full of spit.

And then he starts stuffing his fingers up my pussy

I know where he is going with this.

I like this pain.

He sucks my breasts like he's my baby boy.

No longer a school boy and spoiled brat.

Just a baby hungry for milk.

I fucking love this feeling.

Why, I don't know.

Maybe I'm the sick bastard.

Bastardess, sorry.

Apologies.

Not apologies.

Fuck.

Back on track Ms. Slut.

Your mind is racing.

Concentrate.

His whole hand is now inside me.

Up me.

It hurts now.

Genuinely hurts.

I'm twisting and turning.

My body is.

My culture says no.

My mind is more like "maybe a little bit more".

Have no ever meant no?

For anyone.

Does yes ever mean yes?

Fucking hell.

Back on track.

The pain is so good though.

His whole fucking hand.

Twisting and turning inside me.

Stretching me out.

Makes me feel nothing but the pain. Full on.

So I can leave my body. And mind especially.

And just fucking float.

It's so perverted too.

It feels like a gift he is giving.

He sets himself and his ego aside.

Or maybe he is just an unruly devilish brat.

I get on top of him. And ride him.

My breathing is troubled. Strained.

I'm taking charge now.

I'm Donald Trumping the shit out this situation.

It feels like.

For a moment.

I'm grabbing him by the pussy.

For a moment.

But I also want him to kiss me.

And have a little loving break.

It's hard work this shit.

He kisses me.

I get on my back.

He starts fucking my pussy.

So I can see his dick when it enters.

It's hot when I can see his dick.

As it enters me.

As he pounds.

I don't know why.

It's a connection. It's creating a connection.

I start touching myself.

Rubbing my clit.

I'm getting greedy now.

Or my fingers are.

I can't control them.

It’s as if they have a mind of their own.

A greedy mind.

If I had my lips around a dick now

I would swallow it whole .

And grab it by the pussy.

And not let go until I had milked it.

For every last drop.

"It feels so good" I moan.

He pounds slowly. Rhythmically. Now. Controlled.

His breathing is the giveaway.

He kisses my breast again.

I still stimulate myself.

I can feel it coming.

My orgasm.

I love the way he sounds.

When his breathing is troubled and strained.

Like its hard but determined work he's doing.

Like he is cutting a diamond.

Bitting me and spitting in my face.

And not doing the whole consent thing.

Something is clearly wrong with me.

I don't care.

That feeling when he has my breast in his mouth.

Makes me wanna abandon feminism.

It's close now.

My orgasm.

"I'm coming," I say.

And I do.

I come.

Hard.

With a hint of pain.

He made me come.

Fucking brat.

You are dismissed now.