I understand the words, but not how I’ll manage to reply. My tongue is thick. Slow and somebody else’s, yet somehow, I hear myself say, “Feels everywhere.” I’m not sure it makes sense, but I think it does. Or, at least, I think it makes sense to Connor and me, and when I think about it, no one else really matters. “Feels like a lot.” He pulls out most of the way, and I shiver in anticipation. “Feels big.” He thrusts in. I cry out softly and then loudly when it hits me. “When you move, it feels like you’re breaking me…”
“I’m breaking you?” He’s interested but not concerned. Instead, he’s gratified and almost amused. He likes hearing me talk like this, I realize. He likes seeing me like this.
And I like that about him.
“Yes…but that’s what I want.” It is. I didn’t know it before, but it’s what I want. It might even be what I deserve.
“That’s what you want? To be broken?”
“Yes,” I moan, sinking my teeth into the meat of his shoulder. “It’s what I want.”
He gives me what I can take, no more and no less, until he’s fully seated in me. Until my legs are wrapped around his waist and his hips are grinding against me, his balls slapping rhythmically against me.
I look up at him in disbelief. In awe. He’s inside my body, and I’m taking him. I’m here, and he’s here, and we’re really doing this.
He pulls most of the way out and rears back, holding himself up as he drills into me eye-wateringly deep. His cock plunges into me, forcing organs out of its way and penetrating me fully. The pleasure is instant and so blinding that I can’t see or hear.
He fucks me like that, deaf and blind, until I’m shouting. Thrashing. Until the relentless, predictable thud of his body slamming into mine turns into a rhythm. A song. He doesn’t stop. He makes music with me, and after a couple of choruses, my hips learn the beat.
I start moving as though I’m dancing. Rising and falling to a tune I know well. Connor fucks me, and I meet every thrust. I don’t tense. I open myself to receive it. To take it as deeply as he sees fit to give.
Pleasure builds. So do force and pressure and mass. I feel it everywhere. In my ass. In my dick. In my face. Everything is hot. Everything is engorged. Everything is so sensitive that I want to scream.
So I do.
I don’t mean to, but I do.
Connor hears my call and understands it. He knows what it means. He sees and hears me and gives me what I need.
His hand circles my dick firmly, and I shout from the shock, the amazement, as my dick throbs and my ass starts to spasm. It’s a slight spasm first. A flutter. Barely a squeeze to go with the myriad of hot bliss flowing up and down my dick, and then it’s not.
Then it’s a vise.
Then it’s a muscle forcefully contracting.
Then it’s my whole body convulsing. My dick spraying. My ass milking Connor’s cock like I was made to do it. There’s pleasure everywhere. Over and over. A river of it. An ocean. Hot, thick liquid flooding everything in its path.
It ravages me.
Burns me.
Breaks me.
Through it all, Connor works over me. Thrusting into my pleasure and shattering me more.
He grits his teeth and howls from the strain, but he holds back. He holds back until he’s shaking. Until he’s trembling from head to toe. Until he’s fucked every ounce of my orgasm out of me.
And then he lets go.
He lets go beautifully. He lets go with everything he has. He pours all of it into me.
And I open my legs, and let him.
A long time later, I find my way back to my body. I move my hands and feet, curling my fingers and toes and relaxing them, amazed to find they still work. That they’re still part of me.
That I’m still here. That I’m still me.
I’m me, but I’m different. I look the same, but I don’t feel the same.
