Creative Writing · Free Write · Healing · Personal · Prose · Reflection · Sex · Writing

On how you used to fuck me…

**

It was cold out but the Sailor Jerry in my stomach kept me warm, my head was light as I felt tingling spread through me. I held onto your arm. The train passing by graffitied walls and the back of dark city buildings. The car was mostly empty and I wanted you right there. We had left the gas station bathroom to seek a better place to fuck but couldn’t find anywhere. So we sat on the train, the tension almost unbearable. I looked at your lips, your drunken smile was irresistible and I imagined your body all over mine. There was a sensation pulsing between my legs and I felt moisture run over the edge of my panties. I could see your rock hard cock through your pants.


There was barely a block between the train station and my home. We stopped every few feet to kiss each other. Hands all over. I remember you grabbing my face to bring me up toward you. We stumbled in through the front door. Clothes were thrown about the living room and you lifted me up to the kitchen counter. Your thick fingers slipped inside my pussy and your mouth moved over my neck. I thought I never wanted it to stop and I told you to take me to my bed. You threw me down, pushed my legs apart  and then pulled me to the edge. “Fuck me.” I looked up at  and grabbed your hips to guide you into me. Your hands were tangled in my hair as you pressed against me over and over again. Skin to skin. I held onto your biceps. You turned me over and around. My ass bounced against your body and I wondered if you liked that. You kissed my back and called me beautiful. Your hands grasped my breasts as we pushed between each other. You fucked me hard, so hard and your cock fit perfectly inside of me. Tight and all the way through. Time passed by and I wondered if I was even still alive. I was no longer myself. I was a being unrecognizable. You looked me right in the eyes and moaned on how good it felt to be inside of me. I begged you to fuck me harder and faster. I screamed and wrapped my arms around you. Tears ran down my cheeks. You asked if I was okay and I told you “please don’t stop.”


Hours passed or perhaps an entire lifetime. The light from the street lamp peeked through the space in the blinds. The universe our only witness. I pushed you harder and said “Come inside me.” I could feel you throbbing as your warm fluid filled me. We collapsed around each other. Our arteries pulsated on various spots within our bodies and I could not feel the difference between our flesh. I was you and we were something no one else could ever be.


I think about these memories. I wonder if any man could ever fuck me the same. Fuck me until I forget. Fuck me until the skin peels off my back. I wonder at the intensity and how we could not keep ourselves off each other. And I remember at the end how you wouldn’t let me touch you. How you grabbed my hands and threw them off your chest as I begged you to still love me. To not leave me alone. I wanted it again and again. Masochistic is what they called me. I think I am still looking for that in other people. Nice guys don’t have it in them and perhaps neither do I. 

Creative Writing · Free Write · Poetry · Revenge · Sex · Writing

Apparently

I’m not the kind of girl you can bring home to mother.


I will come over at 3 a.m. and sneak in your bed.

With you on your back and your hair in my hands.

You won’t forget my presence, my lips imprint upon your head.


Still I will be gone before the sun rises.

Like a dream, you can almost remember but can not ever forget.


I am only safe to recall in the dark of night.

The moon is my master and you will run from the light.


When you face actuality, you will know I have won this fight.