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Short-stories : Bridgycat - Moves at your will

Bridgycat - Moves at your will

Bridgycat  2011.07.26. 20:22

NC-17, angst, dark, slash

Moves at your will

Pushes you down onto the mattress and you moan as a mere reflex when your back hits his white, white sheets and a slight rush of pain speeds through you so wonderfully evidently in your spine, your body and breath begging so beautifully for his touch, for him to fuck you like it's all anyone could ever ask for in this life and you grasp the sheets in your little palms as he goes down on his knees between your brilliantly spread legs and bites your bottom lip before you get the chance to meet his searing gaze. Moan into his mouth, moan for all it's worth, any sound is good and no touch unwanted as he makes you so much better with his bare hands, the genious of his skin on yours like that when his body rubs against you, mingling your sweat with his already and you feel like such a girl when he sucks your nipple and draws his finger between your cheeks and you catch yourself flinching into the air above your tilted back head and closed eyes. Draw your hands through his hair over and over again, nails cutting into his scalp, feeling the pulse in his skull beat against your fingertips as you can't get enough of him but what else is new? Frustratedly whimper when he moves his thumb over the head of your hard cock before letting you taste your own precum as you suck his finger dry, you know he'll never actually put it in his mouth, that bastard, but it doesn't really matter when he touches you like that, when his tongue and lips and hands all become so vivid all over you it's insane, making something throb somewhere inside, everywhere inside when he draws that wet thumb around you with the other four fingers of his and kisses you like he's trying to break your pretty little mouth. Hear yourself pleading for him again, hear yourself drop another few levels down the scale of the pure and utter opposite of self-respect with those begs, you're such a filthy whore but you don't care because it's working, he wants you, he wants you so badly, doesn't he, maybe almost as much as you want him right back with his swollen, wet lips and his teeth marks all over your skin and his hands are the greatest things ever created by anyone and anything ever, you swear to God, they really are.
He tells you he wants you so then it must be true, maybe not with the tone of his voice but with his whole, sheer body screaming out for yours, you get lost in his breaths, in his neverending warmth, in his cheekbones and his pants and those little beads of sweat you lick right off his temple without caring about anything but tasting him so closely everything about him is one high better than the other and you lose track of all the times you've begged him to fuck you by now and it's not a second too soon or maybe it is when he stops you in the middle of sucking your lips off around his aching cock and tells you to roll the fuck over right as you think you might just implode you're so full of him.
Roughly turning you over on your stomach, quickly biting your neck before drawing his hands towards much more pleasant locations as you moan ever so softly through his untainted hotel sheets and you practically feel his heavy breath in the air when he growls what a dirty whore you are and you have no choice but agreeing with him. Feel his big, strong hands press hard against your slender hips, making a vibration sprawl through and ache in your bones as you get up on all fours and feel his chest so sheerly warm against your back when he leans over and forces you to turn your head and kiss him harshly again. His teeth strain against yours and he trembles so beautifully over you as your knees almost cave under his body weight and your breath barely makes it through another sharp whimper of the immortal words "fuck me" right into his warm, wet mouth and he's the most brilliant thing you've ever felt in your life in that moment he grins against your lips and you notice his fingers carelessly laced with yours upon that hard mattress and you're so intoxicated the love you suddenly feel rush towards that God damn hotel overpowers everything you've ever felt in your entire lifetime. That you care to remember, anyway.
He's so big and hard and warm and his breaths make scars on the back of your neck as he moves without restraint inside of you and you can sense everything within the room each time you inhale only to feel every trace of air punch right out of your gut when he makes you exhale so harshly it hurts but you don't care. It's like he controls your breath with his every move, his slightest touch, each thrust seems to go so much further inside and you don't know how you don't fall down sooner than you eventually do once the pain becomes too much to bear even for a filthy little something like yourself and you can't take it anymore of his sweaty hands and his cock up your ass and those moans above you traling higher and higher 'til your muscles clench all around him and you can't help yourself anymore. He comes right when your voice breaks in the middle of his name, your birthplace, you don't care what the fuck you exclaim but it's something and you don't think the neighbours appreciate it in quite the same way he does but it doesn't matter when he sounds so godforsakingly pretty coming with his fingers clutching your hips and the sweat of his skin still lingering somewhere in the saliva of your swollen lips when you hear him pierce through the air like that with his trembling, sharp voice and it's so final everything after that seems so quiet it turns to mere whispers in comparasion with him.
He falls, feels like it anyway, falls right over you and you have nothing to do but cave. Just so big where he lies all over you, heavy and warm and making your pulse beat faster, louder, more somewhere inside as you feel everything through numbness while your orgasm silently aches out with his fantastic breaths making the sweatbeads dazzle up against your smooth skin. He crushes you. He crushes you but you don't care, he can do whatever he wants with you as long as it has something to do with being so near him you practically choke on his breath, on his scent, whatever he offers you right then and there is good with you, everything with you.
You don't do anything after he's rolled off and you think it may very well be the greatest time of your life until it happens again and that's it and this is not anymore.
He looks so pretty when he sleeps after fucking your brains out like that. He really, really does, doesn't he?

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