What Are They Fighting About?
folder
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,717
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,717
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
What Are They Fighting About?
\"Well, fuck you!\" She feels the anger and frustration build in her gut, and she pounds her fists against his chest.
\"Would you fucking stop that?\" He demands and then, in a move that surprises both of them, back-hands her.
The world pauses for moment as she lifts her hand to her cheek. She glares at him through watery eyes. \"Ohhh...\" she hisses, and launches herself at him.
With a hand at his chest, and the other against his throat they both go down, her on top, him half choked under her weight pressed to his throat and chest. He pushes against her shoulders and twines his legs around hers in an effort to flip her over, but she lets go of his throat and grabs both of his hands, pining them to the ground and keeping the upper hand.
\"You bastard. I hate you.\" She hisses against his throat, and bites him, hard.
He reacts violently against her, drawing in breath sharply, and he fights her harder, finally throwing off her hold and, using upper body strength, flips her under him.
\"You little bitch. You started this, but I\'m going to finish it.\" With both of her hands held in one of his, he uses his other hand to hold her head still and glares down at her. \"How could you?\"
\"How could I what? You\'re the one who\'s being a fucking ASS.\" She yells, twisting and writhing in his hold.
Against his will and better judgment, his cock hardens against her soft, warm body, pushing itself so invitingly against his.
Momentarily distracted, she gets a hand free, and uses the leverage to slide out from under him and push until they both lie on their sides, facing each other, grappling for control. Nails scrape over flesh, drawing white lines and even a little blood. Fists hitting, hurting, holding, losing hold, sliding, ripping clothing and pushing against the ground in an effort to be on top.
One of her legs slithers in between his, and she pushes back enough that she rises above him once again. With enough pressure, he relaxes a bit, not wanting to risk the agony she could inflict with a little more pressure a little lower.
She snarls down at him. A tear rolls down her cheek and falls on his mouth. He licks his lips. Her face twists in pain, then in cruelty.
Another tear falls. Before he can repeat his earlier action, she presses her lips against his hard, needing, seeking.
Mouths open, breath being sucked in greedily, tongues fighting for entrance in the other\'s mouth, hot and wet and fierce, and she moans, leg sliding to the ground for support, she melts against him. Hands in hair, he pulls her head back and bites his way down her neck to her collarbone, then kisses his way back up. She grinds her body against his, and the already half removed shirt hanging on her arms he pulls off the rest of the way and flings it across the room. They roll and roll, bumping into the back of the couch, and then the wall, smacking heads and legs and hands, more clothing being yanked off and flung.
Finally, with his pants half on, half off, hers somehow having ended up hanging on the banister, her breasts pushed up and over her bra, he bites one of her nipples and drives his cock into her. She moans and let her head fall back, eyes closing, and he pushes with his body a little harder, loving the feel of her hips pushing back, and he finds his way on top, with the prefect leverage to thrust in and out of her wet cunt until they are both crying out, and clutching at one another, eyes glazing over; breath panting, ripped from their bodies, mindless animal rutting, and they slide over that lovely pinnacle until nothing is left but ragged breathing and cooling bodily fluids.
They remain there, just lying and breathing, him growing soft inside of her.
She kisses his forehead, and draws back a bit. Neither look at the other as clothing is found, and she dresses and leaves him, there - in his only remaining sanctum, now no longer safe. But then, it has not been safe for a long time now, maybe never was. He beings to cry.
She drives home, curls up amongst her blankets, and weeps as well.
\"Would you fucking stop that?\" He demands and then, in a move that surprises both of them, back-hands her.
The world pauses for moment as she lifts her hand to her cheek. She glares at him through watery eyes. \"Ohhh...\" she hisses, and launches herself at him.
With a hand at his chest, and the other against his throat they both go down, her on top, him half choked under her weight pressed to his throat and chest. He pushes against her shoulders and twines his legs around hers in an effort to flip her over, but she lets go of his throat and grabs both of his hands, pining them to the ground and keeping the upper hand.
\"You bastard. I hate you.\" She hisses against his throat, and bites him, hard.
He reacts violently against her, drawing in breath sharply, and he fights her harder, finally throwing off her hold and, using upper body strength, flips her under him.
\"You little bitch. You started this, but I\'m going to finish it.\" With both of her hands held in one of his, he uses his other hand to hold her head still and glares down at her. \"How could you?\"
\"How could I what? You\'re the one who\'s being a fucking ASS.\" She yells, twisting and writhing in his hold.
Against his will and better judgment, his cock hardens against her soft, warm body, pushing itself so invitingly against his.
Momentarily distracted, she gets a hand free, and uses the leverage to slide out from under him and push until they both lie on their sides, facing each other, grappling for control. Nails scrape over flesh, drawing white lines and even a little blood. Fists hitting, hurting, holding, losing hold, sliding, ripping clothing and pushing against the ground in an effort to be on top.
One of her legs slithers in between his, and she pushes back enough that she rises above him once again. With enough pressure, he relaxes a bit, not wanting to risk the agony she could inflict with a little more pressure a little lower.
She snarls down at him. A tear rolls down her cheek and falls on his mouth. He licks his lips. Her face twists in pain, then in cruelty.
Another tear falls. Before he can repeat his earlier action, she presses her lips against his hard, needing, seeking.
Mouths open, breath being sucked in greedily, tongues fighting for entrance in the other\'s mouth, hot and wet and fierce, and she moans, leg sliding to the ground for support, she melts against him. Hands in hair, he pulls her head back and bites his way down her neck to her collarbone, then kisses his way back up. She grinds her body against his, and the already half removed shirt hanging on her arms he pulls off the rest of the way and flings it across the room. They roll and roll, bumping into the back of the couch, and then the wall, smacking heads and legs and hands, more clothing being yanked off and flung.
Finally, with his pants half on, half off, hers somehow having ended up hanging on the banister, her breasts pushed up and over her bra, he bites one of her nipples and drives his cock into her. She moans and let her head fall back, eyes closing, and he pushes with his body a little harder, loving the feel of her hips pushing back, and he finds his way on top, with the prefect leverage to thrust in and out of her wet cunt until they are both crying out, and clutching at one another, eyes glazing over; breath panting, ripped from their bodies, mindless animal rutting, and they slide over that lovely pinnacle until nothing is left but ragged breathing and cooling bodily fluids.
They remain there, just lying and breathing, him growing soft inside of her.
She kisses his forehead, and draws back a bit. Neither look at the other as clothing is found, and she dresses and leaves him, there - in his only remaining sanctum, now no longer safe. But then, it has not been safe for a long time now, maybe never was. He beings to cry.
She drives home, curls up amongst her blankets, and weeps as well.