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There were years and years between everything- between the beginning and the middle and now. Years and years of thinking that I was just some little girl who never entered your radar, I was too loud and you were so couth. I laughed too much. But then, after years and years, do you remember? I came to your house, to your party, and I brought some forgettable guy fawning at my elbow, and everyone was drunk and then- do you remember this? You sat next to me and said, “I don’t know what it is, it’s not your perfume or your shampoo, you just have this smell I can’t describe that drives me crazy.”

 I blushed, laughed too fast. You touched my knee. The forgettable guy pretended not to notice. You looked at me, you had this look you gave me then. And then when no one was paying attention you went into your room and you waited for me to follow you and I knew it was finally going to happen, god, all these years I had wanted you so badly- replayed fantasies and eyes shut tight in bed. You’ll never know how many times you made me cum before you ever touched me. I thought I was going to disappear.

Do you remember what it was like that moment when I came in? When I closed the door to the noise and the people behind me and it was just you and me and this unbearableness? Who stepped toward who? Oh, god. But then one of us did, anyway, and there were no words and just us and that first kiss was all those years and at first you were so soft with me but you could feel under my skin how much I wanted you to swallow me whole. I was so desperate for you, and oh my god, that kiss- do you remember? But you didn’t grope me, you didn’t grab my tits or my ass. Your hands were strong and heavy on my shoulders and your mouth tasted familiar even then. I wanted you to gather me up and lay me down and spread me open there. And then. But you are nothing if not patient.

 And we moved, do you remember? We moved to sit on your bed, neither of us noticing anything but the other, and you reached over and grabbed my hand and you kissed me again, harder, more insistently. And I pressed back.

 And then, just then, your bed, covered in coats, moved- and we realized we were not alone, and there he was, our friend, sitting up, having slept it off and asking us what was going on? And there were knocks on the door and people asking for you, and the Forgettable Guy started wondering where I was, and I exchanged a few urgent glances with you and then I left.

 I thought maybe you were just drunk, that this was all some mistake, some delusion. And then, remember? You called me. That next day, with the weirdness and urgency of the night before gone, could you tell how nervous I was?  You asked me to come over again that night.

“Wear something that shows off your neck” said my gay best friend, “you have a great neck.”

            And then I was there, wearing something that showed off my neck, and it was you and I, same as we had always been except now there was no one else around and how do we do this? It wasn’t awkward, though. It was never awkward with you. I sat on your couch and you leaned over and kissed me and all the urgency of the night before came rushing back but now there was the knowledge and pressure and nervousness that nothing else was going to stop this from happening now. This time your hands were all over me, twisting my nipples between your fingers, cupping my ass through my jeans. I felt my hips start to make involuntary undulations. You kissed me all down my neck and collar bone and breathed hot and then cool on my skin. “Take me to bed,” I whispered, through my throat, and flicked my tongue behind your earlobe. Do you remember?

            Oh, I was never so slick before. So fluid.  And you looked at me and you didn’t laugh and I didn’t laugh and you took my hand and lifted me off the couch so I stood in front of you and you kissed me and pushed my hips backward and into your bedroom. You guided me to the bed until the backs of my knees touched the mattress and you ran your hands underneath my shirt, the dry rushing sound of your skin on mine.

I felt you reaching around my back and unhooking my bra, and then you were palming my breasts and rubbing my nipples with your thumbs, still kissing me. Your tongue was moving faster in my mouth and I finally reached down and unbuttoned your pants and moved my hands over the zipper. Oh, god, you were huge. And hard. When I opened your zipper your cock sprung into my hand- heavy and warm and alive. Did I hear you moan as I took it and squeezed it in my palm? As I snaked my other hand into your boxers and stroked your balls? You pulled off my shirt and I shimmied out of my bra. I held my tits up and together and slid myself slowly down your body until I knelt on the floor looking up at you, my back pressed up against the bed, my hands pulling your pants down to your knees.  

Oh, cock! Oh, your cock! It was smooth and clean and perfect. Hard as glass, hard as steel, harder than I thought flesh could be.  Nine inches, at least, and too thick for one hand to circle. I wanted you all over me, in my mouth, in my ass, in my pussy, in my hand, between my tits. I felt like needed your cock pounding me everywhere all at once, as hard and as deep as possible. But before I could begin, before I could feel that rosy head rubbing the back of my throat, even before lips touched tip, you lifted me up. Remember?

You pulled up my elbows and pushed me onto the bed, onto pillows and sheets and no coats this time. My tits rocked back and you tore at my jeans with the deftness of a surgeon and before I knew what had happened my panties and jeans were on the floor and there I was with you above me.  You held my right shoulder down and you slid your other hand down my side, across my belly, and finally, oh, god, oh god, finally, over the crest of my labia and onto my clit. Do you remember how wet I was? How my clit was buzzing with electricity when you touched it? How my back arched and my knees shook as you touched me? I had both hands around your cock and I was slipping them one at a time over each other and sliding them down the shaft and over the head, like climbing a rope.  Your pants were still around your ankles when you leaned in and first touched my wet, tight little hole with that massive cock. First it was just the tip, your fingers still stroking my clit, my hands running over your shoulders. Just the tip, just the tip. I needed all of it, oh god, oh god. And then the first few inches. You stretched me so far open I thought I would bleed, I wanted to bleed. I needed all of it, though, did you think I couldn’t take it? I needed to take it. I forced my hips up beneath you, trying to suck in even one more precious inch of it. But you are nothing if not patient. Agonizingly patient. You pushed it into me slowly, in one long and fluid movement as you looked down at me. It was the first time someone had ever bottomed out inside me, your glans crashing into my cervix while your pelvis ground into my clit. “Oh, god, Daddy…” I breathed.

 You were slow at first, pulling out almost all the way before you pushed back in. I put my hands on your ass and pulled you into me. How was I supposed to tell you I wanted you to never pull out? I wanted you to break through my cervix and fuck every inch of the inside of me until your cock came out my throat. Did you know? From agonizingly slow to frenzied in a half second. You were so strong. And was I screaming? Everything was melted together, you and me and outside and inside- all I knew was fast and hard and thinking you were about to push me through the bed to the floor and I would fall and I didn’t care as long as you stayed on top of me fucking me. 

With you I felt so desperate, clawing at you to cling to you and panicky that I was right at the edge of this thing an inch beneath the visible.  Did you hear the sharp intake of breath at the beginning? I breathed, and then I came so hard it would leave me shivering and unsettled for days afterward.  You squeezed my breast, your face was next to mine, and it was like the wind was knocked out of me as I lay beneath you paralyzed and waiting to feel the hot, sweet jet of your cum inside me, knowing that I’ll have it dripping down my thigh later when I have left. But right now, it’s that moment between moments, and I just want to leave it here, where this me in this story is in bed with you, in the throes of the unspeakable, for years and years and years.

Revolution

You take my hand and lead me toward the bed. I feel shy, silly, in this dress-up mouth, these fishnets, this costume. The skirt is so short and the neckline is so low, I feel like I look like I’m just legs and tits, and the overwhelming knowledge of why we are here and what we are about to do seems too blatant. I worry you’ll laugh. But you are nothing if not kind. I see you smile in the dark.

My knees hit the bed and you’re running your hands through my hair, your hands under my neckline, down my body, under my skirt. It seems to be going by so fast. I want to tell you to slow down or speed up, I don’t know what I want. All I can think about right now is your hands- they feel strong and cleanly calloused against me. I love your fingers, your palms, your broad knuckles, swirling their way over my breasts, squeezing my nipples and filling themselves up with my soft flesh. My tits fit almost perfectly into your hands, and as you cup them, I feel the tips of your fingers against my chest wall, my pale skin squeezing through the gaps between your knuckles.

I throw my head back and you start kissing my neck, running your mouth down my throat, and I feel your hands move up my skirt again, pushing up from my thighs and running over my ass. You move me. Manipulate my body until I am on all fours and you are off to the side of me. I need you to be in control now. I need you to take me and tell me what I need. You always know.

I can feel you rubbing my ass, but I can’t see your face as you slip your fingers down and slide them over my panties, grazing my clit. You take your hand away and I push my chest out, roll my head back, wait for you. You make contact. You’re talking low and dirty in that voice of yours that I can’t get enough of. This is the voice that only I hear. You call me a slut. You make contact. I’ve offered to let you spank me with something else- a wooden spoon, a hairbrush, a whip, but you want to use your hand. Something about the skin on skin. You make contact. I’m moaning now, and my body is shaking while you rub my swollen vulva. I can feel the pleasant sting of your hands on my body still. You make contact.

Again and again, I feel like I’m on the brink of cumming from this alone- this anticipation, this inability to see or think of anything else. I unlock my elbows and fold my arms, lay my head down in the nest I’ve made. You make contact. I’m so wet now that I’m actually worried the next time you spank me I’ll splash. You grasp my hair, pull my head back and kiss me. Your tongue blooms in my mouth and I can’t imagine that it’s just a tongue any more. Some kind of crazy, frantic movement and I kiss you back, longer and deeper than I think we’ve ever kissed before and I feel like we’re both stuck and lost in this moment with your mouth on mine and your hands still in my hair. Is this passion? Is this okay? Am I supposed to be responding to you, friend, in this way that is so indicative that we are lovers? We catch ourselves, we extricate ourselves, you push me down and I tug your pants off.

Your cock is huge and hard and perfectly straight, with its taught, creamy skin and glistening head. I take you into my mouth and curve my tongue to cradle it. I take you all the way in and you groan above me, your hands rubbing my thighs that I can’t seem to keep together. I suck the head and taste a few drops of precum, viscous and salty. You’re using your voice again. “Open your mouth.” I release you, look up, smile, open my mouth. You look down into my eyes and I can see that the shift has already happened. You’ve moved now, completely, from gentle friend to dominant lover. I’m your object to be used and used up, and I love it.

You lean down and spit directly into my mouth and slap me across the face. “You like that?” I don’t respond, I take your cock into the back of my throat and moan, shaking my head slowly from side to side. I lick back up the shaft until I’m just sucking the head, and I wrap my hand around you as I look back up to your face. “Do it again.” Your lips tighten and twist into a mean smile, and this time you slap me hard across the cheek before you bend over to let slow streams of saliva drip onto my tongue. This is aberrant and disgusting and I love every horrible second of it.

I start to rub your balls while I work up and down on your cock, moving fast as you thrust into my mouth. I want you to lay me down and fuck me harder than I’ve ever been fucked in my whole life. I want you to fuck me harder than anyone in the history of the world has ever been fucked, and ever will be fucked again. I want to feel your tip slamming into my cervix, your pubic bone smashing into my clit, your hands holding my shoulders down to the bed while you tear me open.

You push me back until I’m lying down, tearing out the crotch of my fishnets, pushing aside the fabric of my panties until your fingers start to contact my bare skin. You start to rub my clit softly, with an excess of gentleness that I’m not sure I can handle. It feels like my vagina is entirely full of fluid and I’ve got to be totally still not to let it spill out.

“Fuck me.” I whisper, “Oh, God. Please, please fuck me.” Your cock fills me up completely as you slowly press it through the canal of my pussy. I gasp, softly. You pull it almost all the way out and I want to scream, but before I can, you’re pushing it inside of me again, in that maddeningly slow rhythm. I feel your hands move up to my throat, your thumbs pushing down on the sides of my neck. My breathing is fast and shallow and I’m staring at you as I start to hear the room edging in on me. The silence becomes so loud I can’t hear either of us any more. I feel my arm lolling off the edge of the bed and I realize I’m completely incapable of motion right now. You are completely in control of my body. Yellow and green lightning bolts start to stream through my vision and they make noise like lightning would, I think. Electric. Then nothing. Not even the awareness of nothing.

My legs, over your shoulders now, come into focus, and I can see the grids of flesh pushing through the fishnets. I realize where I am and that you’re fucking me and I open my eyes and think that this is the best way to wake up, ever. You thrust harder and harder, your cock inside me swelling and rolling and bottoming out and I’m cumming so hard I can’t tell where you and I begin and end, and the muscle contractions become so intense I think I might pass out again. I feel like my soul is being birthed, my body forcing it out of me in this uncontrollable orgasm, tinged with death and resultant in this new and shining thing.