I Fucking Love It

When he lets me up he doesn't let me go. He drags me off his cock and I gasp, gulping in air.

But he's holding me by the back of my head, his fist tangled in my short hair but still keeping me in a tight grip. His other hand still pins my own arms behind my back and he turns me, wrenching me up and twisting me awkwardly so my back arches as I look up into his fat ugly face.

"You like it," he snarls, and my eyes roll into the back of my head as I confess that I don't.

But instead, "I fucking love it."

I only get a moment to catch my breath and I waste half that time confessing my sins to him and then he twists me down, pinning my head down against his groin as he pushes his too thick cock into my mouth once again and holds me just off **** on him.

But that isn't a mercy. It's to give him the space to work. To pump his hips up and crash into my face again and again. To fill my mouth with his thickness as I grumble and moan, reflexively tensing my thighs as I let him have me fully.

I let him pump into me. I let him fucking use me. I close my eyes and I let him pound me until it feels like my lips are almost bruised by it and my jaw aches so much that it's all just a dull roar, just a roaring wave that crashes over me again and again and again until he gives me a moments mercy.

Pulling me up again. Twisting me up to look at him. This time dragging me up and pressing his lips against mine and I come to life when he kisses me, first slipping my tongue in eager and flexible but only to tease his out so that I can pull it between my lips and suck on it, feeling it pulse and thicken and go almost rigid between my lips.

I suck his tongue like it's a cock. Because I'm so fucking ****.

"Fuck," he grunts as he pulls me back and he twists me, his merciless touch nearly bending me backwards in half and touching my head to my ass or at least that's what it feels like but that can't be right because I don't think I'm that flexible.

And then I know that I'm not that flexible because he's only twisted me back far enough that he can have access to my breasts. Greedily feasting on them with his filthy mouth, closing his lips over one nipple and sucking hard on it while his tongue flicks almost daintly over the tip of it before he moves to the other and that one he's rough with. He bites down hard enough that for a moment I wonder whether he's going to break the skin but instead he just pulls back with a pop and my tender flesh feels so very used.

"So fucking sweet and tasty," he grumbles against me, moving between my breasts and burying himself in my cleavage while he almost talks to himself before addressing me, "Sure you don't want to give me a crack at that sweet cunt of yours? I can make your whole damn world explode, darling."

I shake my head, the only sensible thing I've done today, "Above the waist. Keep it above the waist."

"As you wish," he echoes a far more romantic line than he has any right to as he slides around and up, pressing his mouth oddly onto the top and outside of my right breast.

I can feel him smile against me. I can feel his lips curl. I can hear him whisper.

"Guess I'll just leave my mark then."

He closes over my skin and pulls in hard. He doesn't bite, but the suction is more than he's done to this point. A few degrees more than the tremor he subjected my nipple too and enough that I gasp and instinctively try to free myself.

But his grip is too strong. His touch is too secure.

He is in control as he does just what he promises.

He bruises me. He marks me.

He makes sure that anyone who catches a glimpse will know that I've been claimed.

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