Fuck Me

I love it when you fuck me. I crave your fingers jammed inside me. We wrestle for control. I only win when you let me. I know this. You know I know this. And when you win, my breathing slows. I stare at you. You pin my shoulders down. You look up at me with your mouth sucking on my nipple. I grab a fistful of your hair, holding it out of the way so I can watch your lips curve around me. You grab my cunt through my jeans, pinching me. I wince. I need you to fuck me. I need to be fucked.

You like to talk. You tell me I can’t stop you. And I can’t. I can’t stop you. I won’t stop you. I arch my back off the mattress. I feel my face turn red. I get so hot. Burning. My cunt is still in your grip. I reach down and try to unbuckle my belt but you shove my hands away. You grab my belt and lift me, shake me a little, and drop me back down. You tug my jeans low and the denim scrapes my hip bones. “Fuck me,” I whine. You’ve made me whine. I’m panting. Gulping the air. Desperate to take you in. “Fuck me.” All I hear is your laugh. You taunt me. You throw my desire back in my face. You sneer and twist my nipples in your fingers before you roll me over onto my belly.

I clench my fists, grabbing the sheet. I know. I know this. You reach beneath me and unbuckle my belt. You whip the worn leather strap out of the belt loops and jerk my jeans down, exposing my ass. You wrap the belt back around me and pull it tight just below the curve of my ass. My thighs are smashed together. Everything stings. Quick stinging slaps on my ass. The leather of the belt stings as it cuts into me. You slap, sting, rub. You blow cool air on my hot skin. You tell me I’m so good. You tell me I’m growing so red. You tell me I’m glowing. You tug my jeans down further to expose more flesh. My upper thighs are yours. I’m yours. I tell you this, “I’m yours.” You answer, “Yes.”

I tell myself I won’t cry. I won’t ask you to stop. It’s not the stinging. It’s not the pain. It’s the submission. It’s giving this to you. It’s the letting go. It’s knowing that I love you. Knowing that I’ll let you give me this, take care of me, love me. That’s what breaks me. That’s why I cry when you fuck me. "I won’t cry this time. I won’t," I tell myself. But of course I will. I know that I will. You know that I will. You look for it. I will cry because it overwhelms me how you love me. How I let you love me. How I want it.

I try to get away when you pull the belt between my legs, against my clit. It hurts. The pain is almost too much. The leather feels like it’s cutting me. I can’t get away. You ask me if I want you to stop and the question only makes me angry. “Fuck you,” I yell. “Poor baby,” you coo. I feel the tears well up in my eyes. I spit the words softly into the sheets, “Fuck you.” I go limp. You feel it. Or maybe you see it. Roll me over. Do what you want.

What you want is to wake me up again. Your fingers shoot into my cunt and I double over, grabbing for your head. You move away from me quickly and shove me back against the mattress. You fuck me so hard it’s beyond pleasure. This is pain. It hurts. I’m fighting it. I grit my teeth. I’m yelling. You don’t relent. Pounding into me over and over again. Repeating the words you last said, “Poor baby.” Again, harder, you don’t let up. “My poor, poor baby. Don’t you want it? Yeah. I see you, baby. I see what you want.”

My whole body resists until the moment your spit hits my clit. I feel it drip. Then your finger or your thumb. Everything, everything, all of me, suddenly on fire. So warm. My head is fuzzy. I feel so good. I couldn’t possibly stand up steady. I’m crying now. Crying hard. I’m staring at your lips. They hang open above my bent knees. You look at me now and again. You shake your hair out of your eyes. We nod at each other. Whispered yeses. Uh huh. I don’t care about coming. This is everything. But I do come. I come and I scream and I shake. I pull you to my face and hold you. You press down on top of me. I cry into your neck.

I won’t fuck you tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Tonight I’ll just take and take. I’ll open my thighs for you. I’ll pet your head as you suck me off later when I’m sleepy and drunk. I’ll tell you over and over again how much I love you. How you have me. “Fuck me, baby,” I’ll plead and roll over on my belly. “Here, baby. Come here,” I’ll say and pray that you’ll take me again.