Page 160 of Love Me in the Dark
“Look, I really enjoyed what you did there,” I purred. “You made me come, all right. Thanks.”
“Come,” he sang again, leading my hand back to his erection.
Squeezing his massive cock, my pussy recovered and grew jealous of my hand.
Fluttering my eyes, I smiled at him, thinking about giving into the big brute.
“Come?” He hummed again.
Caught up in the moment, I weighed my response. I’d been faithful to Chris during our breaks. In ten years, I hadn’t let another man touch me until what Brute had done moments ago.
I wanted more. No. I needed more. But I wasn’t sure.
Brute mounted me again, his big dick poking me in question. It was clear, he wasn’t done trying.
“Come?” he huffed.
My whole body tingled for him, but I dreaded it. The size of him. The savage nature. Would he be a gentle lover? I doubted it. As I pondered this, my answer to his one-word question, come, the savage instantly thrusted his big dick forward, inside me, taking my breath with it.
I dug my nails into his shoulders as the rush surprised me. The pain from him stretching me, mixed with unromanced pleasure, dampened my eyes as I hollered out. I ran my nails down his back, scratching, half fighting, half surrendering to the inevitable. Then Brute heaved in further, proving it possible. My stomach felt sick but in a good way. Somehow, he’d touched a hidden place, somewhere no one had before. I’d never felt so complete, so vulnerable, so taken.
Was it against my will? Or was he making up my mind. I couldn’t think straight.
Just like Brute didn’t wait for me to consent, he didn’t wait for me to adjust to his hefty cock. Taking my knees with his dirty hands, he drove them up, spreading my pelvis wider and went full force, dragging his cock out of my tight sleeve and crashing it back into me.
He was no gentle lover. He was a wild man, grunting and using me for his pleasure. As one of my nails broke, I realized I had no control. And the thought coupled with the sensation was maddening and satisfying all at once. As the sweltering sun beat down, our labored breathing and the swimming noises of our sexual liquid were all that could be heard.
On my end, nothing had ever felt so perverse and grand simultaneously. Grunting in my ear, Brute practically buried me in the ground beneath us. When I came again, I cried, not because I’d felt desecrated and used. I did feel those things. But the act had been so nourishing as well. I’d thoroughly adored it, like a fine wine or a delicious meal.
Besides, it was the perfect fuck you to Chris for walking out of my life.
Brute roared when he came, sounding like Tarzan himself.
Damn, it was perfect.
7
The following week passed much the same, except I’d given up on wearing my dirty white dress. I opted to play Eve to Brute’s Adam. Then, understandably, it was easier for us to fuck after Brute brought home dinner. And boy did we, like rabbits, every way I could imagine and some I couldn’t.
If I thought Brute took me before, the big guy wasn’t even asking “come” anymore. No longer did he stroke himself to sleep. He used me for his pleasure. Thankfully, I was a willing participant. When I felt guilty or wrong, I’d think about how little choice I had in the matter, but that didn’t seem fair to Brute. Because I was enjoying myself as much as him. Afterward, I’d talk until we both fell asleep.
Brute wasn’t much different than what I’d been looking for in a husband, in Chris. Someone to listen. Someone to care about me. Fuck me hard. Sometimes I caught myself watching Brute the way I used to watch Chris. Waiting for disappointment. But it never came. Which made it worse. It made me wonder if Brute was too good to be real. Was he really this loyal… or had hesimply broken me down so gradually, I’d started to want the cage he built? I wasn’t sure if I was being loved or tamed.
Brute even did all the cooking and cleaning. I slept my days away, longing for the night when Brute would come home to ravish me. The only thing missing was my work life. However, since it was summer break, I was technically still getting paid. If I ever made it home, my bank account would even be larger because all this was free.
One night, after we filled our bellies, Brute didn’t wait for us to clean up. He flipped me over and carted me to my knees, my ass in the air. He pressed my head down to the rough dirt and played with my pussy from behind while rubbing the head of his thick dick across my anus over and over.
God bless America.
He was going to fuck my ass. There wasn’t a CVS for thousands and thousands of miles. It’d be a lubeless adventure.
Was I up for anal?
Brute wasn’t asking or waiting.
Brute was taking. I was his. He was my protector, and I was his pleasure every night. He’d done his job, hunting and feeding us, and now it was my turn to submit to his massive, insatiable throbbing cock.
Spreading my ass cheeks apart, he bent behind me and licked my brown rose like an animal before wiggling his tongue to probe inside. I couldn’t help but react, in a good way, squeaking while my face scraped the ground. When I did, he came up on his knees, behind me again, jutting his fat dick between my cheeks.
