I want you to ruin my life. Take the weak, thumping jelly of my heart and just… fucking… eat it. Yank it out of my body and hold it high in both your hands and laugh as you sink in your teeth. I want you to ruin my life.
When I say ‘I want you to fuck me’ it’s time for me to start being honest about what that means. Because, sure, in the moment it means ‘fuck me’: no more, no less. All I’m asking is for you to put your arms around me and grab my arse with your big hands, digging your fingers into my flesh and pulling me close to you so I can feel the solid presence of your dick. It means ‘open my jeans just enough that you can shove your hand down the front of them, worming your fingers into the wetness of the slit of my cunt. Rub busily at my clit until I’m panting in your ear.’
In that moment what I want is for you to fuck me, so I say ‘please fuck me’ and I think that’s all I mean. That I want you to grab me by the wrist (the wrist! Unngh yeah!) and lead me to the bedroom, clothes in disarray from the kitchen kiss, and both our crotches filled with blood, blood, blood. Then I want you to push me off-balance so I tumble onto the bed, disoriented and giggling and eager for you to pounce.
I want you to ruin my life, but first of course I want to feel the thick heat of your cock sliding inside me. Your teeth on my neck and your hands round my throat. I want to hear the noise you make in the back of your throat as you slide it in really deep and hard. I want to clench myself around it so I can feel every atom of your cock match with atoms of my cunt and it feels like I can crush you with the strength of my own lust.
I want you to ruin my life.
I want you to pour cum inside me. Not now – not right now, when it’s the first time and we’re condom-clad and careful – but in the weeks to come. In the weeks and months and years to come, I want to feel you pump your spunk nice and deep into my cunt and my throat. Warm me with it and bathe me in it and splatter me with it and really fuck me up.
I want you to hold me when I’m crying and whisper ‘ssh’ and ‘it’s OK’ and kiss me better when I’m up to my neck in pain. I want you to ooze into my home and my world until everything I own and know is covered with a thin film of you. I want you to fuck me like you mean it and tell me you love me like you mean it and I really really really want you to ruin my fucking life.
Right now, when we’re fucking, it is fun. But life’s not fun, and this won’t be fun, because over the years you’ll get jaded and hard and realise life is tough sometimes. And when it gets hard, I’ll be here ready to drink down hot gulps of your insecurities and swallow them like they’re trash that I can consume and dispose of on your behalf. Burn me with them and bathe me in them and splatter me with them and go on do it I dare you – fuck me up.
When I tell you ‘I want you to fuck me’ that is really all I mean, but over time you can persuade me that I always wanted more. Pry open my life with the promise of your rock-solid dick until you can see the soft internal parts beneath, because those ones are the easiest to hurt. I think that all I want is for you to fuck me, but if you fuck me well enough, for long enough, those feelings look like love and then you can pounce. Make me want more of you, give more to you, do more for you, until the very concept of ‘you’ eclipses everything.
Eat my heart.
Ruin my whole fucking life.
9 Comments
Hang in there girl.
Cheers, hope you’re doing OK too?
I’ll just leave this here……….
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3OTjFqWcDQY
Look, it’s seriously late for me and I’m reading this post after watching a movie before bed. It’s called Spontaneous and I highly recommend it. Hopefully a good nihilistic laugh would help out.
I can fuck you up in the 30 minutes, or hour, or longer that I control you. I can tie you down. I can hold your head against the pillow and use your mouth as a warm, wet fuck hole. I can use tongue, fingers, fist and toys on your cunt to punish you with orgasms, pushing you further and further until you beg me to stop – and then carrying on. I can force you to cum until you piss on my face. I can bend you over and use your arsehole as easily as I use your cunt. I can fuck you until my cock is sore and worn, until you are quivering and covered in sweat.
This room is every aspect of your reality. My cock owns you.
But then, as the last spurts of cum splash across your face, the alarm bell rings sharp and loud. Back to normal. The rush of life resumes, like a train arriving at an underground station. Household tasks. At the very least, tea must be made. We can cuddle and it’s beautiful. But soon we’ll long once again for that moment that was just ripped away from us.
Here i am, cleaning cum off of everything…
Usual, keeping on keeping on! We’ll get there someday.
This is so fucking good. Really fucking good.
Ferns
Good writing can perfectly bridge things that feel like the shouldn’t be brought together.
This left me with a huge intake of breath, a lump in my throat (not that kind) and hard.
It was raw, messy and hot and beautifully interjected with cold reality at so many points. I want to pour more praise on it but I think you’ve won words.