Musings and experiences about BDSM and other things decadent

Did you and I arrange this?  I don’t remember.

But I see you standing there.  A white blouse, red spandex leggings, thigh-high boots, a taunting smile–the outer attributes of an inner fire.  There is a coquettish turn of the head and then the first step towards the alley.

*Of course.  It is only natural*, I think.

I follow you and see you waiting for me.  You tell me that it is too late and that you must leave.

Liar.

I put my arm out before you can pass by.  You look annoyed, but that countenance lasts only for a moment.  I wrap my arm around your chest and spin you against me.  You open your mouth to scream but I cover it with my free hand.  You struggle.  And then you try to kick me.

It was the most perfect timing.

I feel the rage flaring in my chest and bang my knees against the back of your’s.  You would collapse to the ground if I did not forcefully guide you on t your stomach.  I taste the bitterness of the adrenaline as I hold you down–your arms flailing in vain as I hold you down.

I pull your hair so that your head is forced back at the same time the I press my knee into the small of your back.  You grunt as I press you down.  But the muted reaction changes to a wail of outrage as I rip open your blouse.  Buttons fly forward as your breasts are exposed to the cold.

You reach back and dig your nails into my sides.  I cry out more in lust and madness than from the pain.  I Grab one of your breasts and pinch the nipple as hard as I can.  You gasp, but retaliate by digging your nails in even deeper.

I slap you breast hard and you move your hands to protect yourself.  It gives me the moment to pull out the rope in my pocket and tie your hands behind your back.  It is not without struggle.  An elbow to my side.  A hand pressing your head to the ground.  It seems to take forever, but I feel surging blood throbbing in my body and know it is only a couple of minutes.

I pull you to your feet and we stumble forward together.  I bang you against a wall.  You flick your head back to strike my face.  I reel back dazed, and you try to run past me again.  But I trip you sending you into a pile of bundled newspapers.
I fall on you and rip your leggings open to expose your sex.  I don’t remember opening my pants, but I remember how the cool air worked to excite my cock.  I hold you down as I slip inside you.  You are so wet.  It is no effort at all.

I do not go for a gentle built up. I slam into you and force an animal cry out of you.  I have no sense of humanity in me.  Nor do you.  I thrust towards you as hard as you thrust back–a crash of sex.

I turn you over and continue my assault.  I spank your breasts and pull on your nipples to keep me from launching myself backwards.

You shift you legs up and wrap them around my neck.  You pull hard as if you are trying to snap my head off my body.  Maybe you are.

It is beyond fucking.  There is no consciousness.  There is no cognizance or coherence.   We are not even animals anymore.  We are two forces trying to destroy each other through sex.

It is your orgasm that triggers mine.  Your cunt tries to swallow me whole.  I arch my back and stop breathing as my cock bursts into a million fragments.  I see flashes of light and then darkness.

I drop beside you.  My arm slides under your head and serves as a cushion.  You roll and lie against me.

And as we lie together, the beast lumbers into the night to wait again.