the animal inside

We eat. We sleep. We wake up and move our bodies. I pass you in the hall on Saturday when you’re on your way to meet some friends. We stop to kiss and you squeeze my ass in that hungry way, tasting the inside of my mouth in totality, swallowing my sigh like an animal. 

That part of me that’s only for you tenses against the meat of your palm and you end the kiss with your teeth holding my lip, leaving that sting on me for later. 

“Later. Hungry little slut.” 

You squeeze the bones in my jaw and my mouth hollows for something, anything, more of you. 

Two of your fingers hook my cheek turning my face red and you let go abruptly and laugh with your eyes at me, amused at how easy it is to send me there in seconds, after all this time. 

“I expect you ready when I’m back.”

Before I could answer, your back was to me grabbing your keys off the hook by the door, winking at me with the sun at your back and turning the lock decisively. 

Those little things, your ways you specifically did things got me off the most; how you opened a bottle of wine, how you took your shirt off over your head, like a boy, like after gym or in your room before jacking off. I liked watching your shoulders when you bent down and tied your boots, or how the bones in your hand felt against my skull when you pushed be to my knees to do it for you. 

The scent of you was still a shadow in the hallway and I inhaled deep, drug-like and savoring that bit. 

The calculations you took, how you drove with one hand so the other could grip my thigh, spoon my fingers with yours, until you couldn’t and needed to signal or turn, and then back gripping me harder as soon as you could. 

Sometimes when we were out I felt you monitoring things, guarding me, watching and waiting for moments to move me from a crowd closer to your body. You gave me the inside of the sidewalk, the trail behind you before a door could be held. The cadence of our rhythm sometimes seemed choreographed to others, perceived acutely when your eyes found mine and locked me back into you, into us. 

Two hours later, I heard your key turning the lock and that feeling in my chest carved itself through my gut, further to my cunt. I was nude by then and wearing one of your favorite thongs by then, strips of black ribbon across my hips like they were caged just for you. 

I could smell the sweat of you from outside, the heat still on your skin warming the nakedness of me when I padded over to kiss you hello. Your fist tangled into my scalp like you’d be thinking about this, and your other hand took mine and placed it outside your jeans, along the length of your cock. 

A breathy, “see what you fucking do to me, girl” in my ear and an aroused whimper while your hand shadowed mine on your crotch. 

Your teeth found the shell of my ear while your breathing became ragged. I laid pressure along the length of you and moaned needily, my spine arching into you like we hadn’t just fucked all morning before you left. 

Sometimes you told me what to do, where to go, but your back was already to the door and your jaw had that tension, fist that starve in their grip in the tangle of my hair. 

I slid straight to my knees looking up at you but your head was already back, hand loosened and brushing through my hair shakily. 

I nuzzled my cheek against the silhouette of your cock while my hands deftly undid your belt. That smell of leather hit me and I felt heady as it flayed open and layed in two slacks around your hips. Your boxers were even tighter around the hardness and my fingers slid inside around you, stroking at first, then pulling the length of you out. 

My lips pouted to taste you, and your stance widened so you could dig your boots into the fold of my legs. I could feel the edges of the tread digging in already bruising me, giving me that sweet hurt while I slid my tongue around the head of you. 

I loved worshipping you, but especially your cock. The spaces in me craved that, the tightening and swelling of my cheeks and cunt, the stretch while you pushed through me mercilessly, the taste of myself mixed with you running down my throat. 

Your hips bucked and fist clenched at your side when I started sucking, my hand at the base and your slack-jawed mouth sucking the air through your teeth heavily. 

Your boots carved into the floor heavier, and I let my tongue stiffen against the swell of you as I tightened my lips, breathing deeper through my nose. 

I started slow until my own voracity barred me, until I was gone below you moaning and feeling the head of you push at the back of my throat. Then that moment came when my neck wasn’t moving on its own and instead was accepting the rhythm you chose for it, sporadic and rough, testing my gag reflex more and then pushing through it when my throat tightened. 

Sometimes I put my hands against your calves in small protest, holding you in my smallness while I sputtered around you awkwardly, gripping the denim while the salt in my eyes flowed past the lids. 

It was enough at first and then it wasn’t, your hands needed to hurt me too, your boots tightened and dug through my softness. Was I moaning or crying? Maybe it was both. 

My breathing became erratic when it was mixed with sniffles, and my eyes med the lidded gaze of you while the mess of me was raw, open, tearful and just that thing to be used by you. 

Your thrusts were pitting and brutal now, boot finding my cunt and slicking your toe with menace, that knowing that this too, gets me off. The muscles of you took what was left of me, thick and paced slams chasing your pleasure through my throat. 

The hair at my scalp was scraped up and pulled taut while you fucked my face and my whimpers echoed through the front door. 

Halted breaths with marbled words from you, 

“Show. The. Fucking. Neighbors. What. You’re good. For. Don’t you. Fucking move. Take it. Yeahhh. Oh fuck. Show me. Be so good for me. Yeah. Right there. Fuck. What a fucking. Perfect. Little slut. Fuck.”

I wanted to touch myself so bad, push you away for more air, catch my breath between the tears, but even more than that I wanted to make you cum and as your last syllable faded to that hitch in your own chest, your cock stilled deep in me and filled the little space in my mouth with your cum. 

You held me there hard, both palms caving against my forehead and still thrusting those last bits while you shook and your head and shoulders shuddered against the door. The raw power overcame that last bit of me and I sobbed around you thick and pathetically, gripping the tension in your calves with need and surrender. 

You slid from between my lips slow with that curl in your spine still bending down toward me, and tenderly, I pulled you back with just my mouth, licking and kissing the length of you, gasping for the new oxygen filling my lungs in hurried spurts but still softening my tongue against the head of your dick. My throat felt raw and the bruises in my knees already felt like they’d reached my bones but still, I licked and worshipped you clean until I pulled back finally. 

Your eyes opened down and you saw me untying your boot, and you lifted it to my thigh to rest your weight on me deeper while I tried to work quickly. 

I did the same with the other foot and you kicked your shoes away from us as you shuffled out of your jeans and I awkwardly tried to help. 

Your hands flew to mine and pulled me slowly to my feet, let me rest my tired limbs against you against the door. 

Your hands gripped my in hungry fists until I rose up and you were holding me, my wet panties against the waistband of your boxers grinding against you subtly. I was so lost in you, so tear-streaked and needy and desperate as you squeezed me tighter in your arms. 

“Mmm that’s what you really need now isn’t it, baby?” 

Kissing me slow now, both of us slightly breathless still, you cradled me like a doll and I was back to being your girl again, your sweet faun. 

I let my head fall on your shoulder and you carried me the short distance to the couch where we lay face to face and I slid down against your chest, feeling back at home between your shoulders. 

We kissed some more until I felt your lips grin into mine when you noticed my hand against your boxers again. I bit my lip shyly and you growled in your chest a little. Your fingers slid over my breasts and stomach, stopping at the tight tension you could feel as you hovered and teased the waistline of my thong. 

“You never stop wanting me, do you?” 

A question lingering in the air from you that didn’t need an answer, just an acquiescence from my body grinding against your fingers before they could even go inside me. 

I was pulsing for you, aching deep to have any part of you invade the swell of my cunt that was desperate to be filled, touched, teased. 

You slicked two then three fingers and I arched into the thrust of you sliding home, bit your shoulder like I needed to hold onto you by my jaw. I shuddered from the bliss of how you felt, how you stretched and fit inside. 

“Don’t fucking move. I’m going to fuck you how I want to, now how you need it.” 

I trembled at that and my fingers curled into fists against my own thighs, then found the fabric of your boxers and gripped myself still. 

You were barely giving me what I really needed and it took everything to keep my hips still, that tension in my stomach to not writhe and grind and fuck myself around you pathetically. 

My thighs shuddered and I felt like a wound up wire of tension, taut and tortured by the slow curl of you exploring me when I just wanted to be fucked fast, deep, and hard. 

I moaned into your mouth when you slowed to a halt, feeling my hips move. That ache in me wanted to charge you, pin you below and ride your cock until I was cumming all over you all warm and melty and shivering. 

You wouldn’t give me that. You found my gspot and pressed against it, vibrating your touch in a cadence I couldn’t follow, changed the angle of your fingers when I was rising too close to the sunset of my pleasure. 

Then your thrusts were just too slow, too decadent, too shallow to do anything but nudge the edge of my need.

“Does it hurt, baby?” 

Unable to form words while I shook in my own stillness I let out a mix of a gasp and sob and nodded against the warmth of your neck. 

“You’re so fucking good for me. You just wanna be so good, don’t you?” 

Easy questions to answer in my muddled mind, I painfully agreed and moaned as your pace quickened inside, still not enough. 

“Daddy likes you best when you’re a mess like this, all sticky and sweet and stiff and shaking. All tense and tired and pathetic for my permission to cum. Tell Daddy how bad you need it.” 

My lips tremoring as you continued to edge me, 

“I. Need it. So fuckingbad.” 

“Can you make your mess on Daddy’s mouth today?”

Shuddering and hissing, “yessss”

You pulled out of me slow, a quiet sob left in me, you turned on your back and guided me up your body. My limbs were still sore from the floor and my thighs quivered against the mild stubble on your cheeks. 

My body arched over you and the one of your slicked fingers found my ass and pushed inside gently, deep and moving just enough to hurt a little and control me how you still could. 

I lined my pussy up and the warmth of your tongue found my swollen clit and licked with that perfect pressure, sucking me unforgivingly as I let my weight drop. I grinding against your face and you started fucking my ass. The vibrato of your moans and the way your neck met the deep arches of me like we were both starving for this made it quick. My thighs were already shaking and the string of syllables begging you for permission to cum flew down on you like a hailstorm. 

Words become strings of letters and my fists gripped the edge of the couch behind your head to bear down deeper. Your tongue went inside and I couldn’t hear you say “come” as much as feel it. 

My spine stiffened and you pulled out of me and gripped my ass with menace as I squirted over the your face like a purge, a cliff I dove off without looking. You let me run through your lips, into your throat, the spaces between your neck and shoulders and chest wet and holding me tight through my release. 

Your nails scraped my ass, my thighs, teeth found my hips as I shook and the ramp of my release slowed back down your body as I let you shove my own taste back in my mouth with your tongue. 

Your hands and lips everywhere now, I let myself grow lithe and pliable against you. We rested with your head between my legs kissing and sucking sweetly on my cunt, my fingers in your hair like a soft breeze that knows what it’s moving through.