Exactly The Same
“I want to fuck you so bad, Kitty-Cat,” you bite on her ear as you whisper the crude, honest words into it. She purrs at the sensation, gasping with every nip you take at her small ring of cartilage. “Are you going to let me fuck you, sweetheart? Hmm?”
She’s panting heavily now, her heart threatening to burst out of her chest at any moment. You feel it beating so powerfully and rapidly against your own chest than it could pass for your own.
Her eyelids flutter under dark, elongated lashes, twitching in rapid motions of up and down. She makes a sound; something between a whimper and a sob. It’s obvious she’s overwhelmed with both the novelty and intensity of the sensations she’s feeling.
And, by God, so are you.
You’ve had sex countless times before, fucked and been fucked in every way you can imagine, and yet you still can’t seem to contain yourself with her. You can’t even begin to imagine what it must feel like for her having no prior experience with this sort of thing.
With that thought, some logical part of you urges for reason; insisting you slow down and give her time to process what’s going on even though you can’t for the life of you process any of it yourself.
She’s never done this before. This will be her first time and the absolute last thing you want to do is hurt her, but she isn’t making this easy, and fuck if you can help yourself right now.
You have no idea what comes over you, but suddenly, you have the most irrational urge—need—to hear her actually say she wants this.
That she wants you.
“Say it,” you demand, the aggression in your voice impulsive. “Say you want me to fuck you.” Your hand grips her face, your fingers digging firmly into either side of her jaw and forcing her eyes to stay on yours.
Without the option of averting her gaze, she continues to stare at you, eyes pleading and glassy with unveiled lust, but her lips remain sealed. That tells you two things:
She wants you to fuck her.
But she’s too embarrassed to say it.
The Commander in you isn’t going to take no—or silence, as the case is—for an answer.
“Say it!” you demand again, your voice accompanied by an unintended growl, but the aggression behind the command definitely has a purpose.
Your fingers dig into her jaw further, adding more pressure on her soft cheeks as you force her to say the words.
“If you want me to fuck that pretty little pussy, you need to tell me, Kitty-Cat,” you tease, but end up taunting yourself in the process as well.
She’s drowning in her thoughts, lost in her own head as a multitude of emotions takes over her. Her thoughts have become so incoherent and jumbled up it’s hard for you to pinpoint or decipher anything—not that you’re coherent enough yourself to begin with. But you do know that, just like before, she’s conflicted; her lust, desire, need, apprehension, fear, and doubt are all working together to confuse the fuck out of her.
She blinks several times, her lovely eyelids rising and falling rapidly, and you know she’s mustering the courage to tell you what you want to hear.
“I-I…I want… I w-want you to fuck me,” she finally breathes out, her voice a timid yet sensual whisper.
Pure heat emanates from her skin and her face comes ablaze with the embarrassment of hearing the obscene words come out of her own mouth; embarrassment and even more arousal.
Precisely what you want.
“You want me to come inside, sweetheart? To come in that pretty little pussy of yours and fill it up?” you push, not recognizing the sound of your own hoarse voice.
“Yes,” she trembles, and you can tell she’s having a hard time believing she actually wants this; that she actually wants you.
You feel completely uninhibited, even more domineering than usual. She’s a virgin, absent of any real sexual experience and yet, somehow, she seems to bring out the raunchiest parts of you and encourages your deeper perversions.
You nod, your nose gently brushing against hers. “That’s good, sweetheart,” you say against her mouth. “Cause I have lots to give you. So much it’s gonna spill out of you. Would you like that?”
Before she can answer, you kiss her hard, tugging at her full lips before looking at her again. She meets your gaze and, without hesitation, her mouth parts for more.
If you thought she was blushing before, her face is one hell of an inferno now. She’s so flustered she actually feels hot to the touch.
Your hand instinctively finds her neck again, your fingers wrapping around its slender circumference, feeling each vibration from the erratic pulsations in her jugular.
God, she’s stunning; in a way you just can’t truly describe. She’s just so…elusive. A fucking enigma if you ever saw one in your life.
Her hand reaches out to touch your face, caressing you tentatively, gliding across your skin.
On impulse, you grip her wandering wrist and bite into her palm, eliciting a highly pleasured yelp from her sensual lips.
“Oh, yes,” she cries out in a surprised moan, her raspy voice leaving her with hints of a sob as the fingers of her free hand dig into your shoulder.
A sigh of contentment rolls out of you at the sound and feel of her encouragement, and you want nothing more than to bury your face in her pussy.
“You have pretty hands, Kitty-Cat,” you say, holding her slender palm up to your face as you observe the impression of the bite mark you just placed on it, the superficial imprint taking on a reddish tint as blood rushes to its surface. “Really pretty…hands…”
Your mind slows for a moment as you continue to look at her small palms and her slender fingers. Her hands really are beautiful and—
Time stops for a split second and you freeze as something heavy dawns on you; something that’s staring you right in the face.
You’ve seen them before.
They’re the same ones embedded on the Atlantic floor.
Exactly the same…