Ooo he's frustrated.
Good.
“Get the fuck out of my way,” I roll my eyes as I purposely bump into him, my right shoulder connecting with his right arm, only for him to catch me with his weight and use his shoulder to bump me all the way back from where I just walked.
“I said get thefuckout of my way!” I yell, pushing him hard on the chest, tears falling but I don't really know why.
I'm horny and I'm hurt and I'm so beyond upset that this man is standing here having the audacity to get mad at me for the very same things that he did to me, that he brushed off.
“Where are you going? I don't want you here,” he says, pointing to the door. “Get the fuck out.”
“What the he—”
“GET THE FUCK OUT!” he yells at me.
It wasn't premeditated but my hand flies up and slaps him hard in the face. His head barely moves, but the slap connects.
Biting his bottom lip in rage, he just stares at me.
My right hand flies up this time to slap him on the left side of his face. Then my left connects with the other side, and then I'm windmilling him, screaming at him.
“FUCKING asshole!!!” he bellows at me as he shoves his arms out and pushes me.
We've always done this for roleplay because he knows I like it rough and aggressive… but… his eyes are red-rimmed and his face is red and he lookslegitangry.
I don't know if he's doing this because he thinks that it will get me in the mood to fuck him, even though that'sexactlywhat it's doing to me. It's making me want to crawl on top of him and tear him apart.
It's making me want to destroy my pussy on his dick until my gut feels like it's caving in from the pain.
God I miss the pain.
Charging back at him, I move to hit him in the balls with my fist, which he blocks. He obviously remembers from a couple years ago.
My hands fly up again to slap him, but he catches them both. Then, still holding on to my wrists, he walks me backward toward the front door.
I honestly thought he was going to open it and toss me out, but he doesn't. Instead, he pushes me forward, throwing my back up against the front door and releasing my wrists as he does.
“Fuck you,” I manage, the words ragged through my heaving breaths.
Iwantto piss him off.
Iwantto choose violence, to be honest.
My hand whips up again, palm cracking hard across his cheek, and my mouth flies open when I feel a stinging slap on my own face.
Lincoln has never, EVER, slapped me before.
I don't know what to think in this moment. My body is confused. My body is telling me‘yes bitch I like this holy shit this is hot’but my mind is telling me that he's abusive, and that he's lost his damn mind putting his hands on me.
The rational part snaps back too late.
I slap him again, harder.
He lets it land, then answers with his left, a crisp, stinging blow that jerks my body hard to the left, causing me to stumble. Stars burst behind my eyes as I struggle to right myself, feeling a sense of vertigo as my eardrum tries to right my balance.
The dude is just standing there like he wants to fight me or something.
What is wrong with him?
