Once again I see stars as the back of my head almost cracks across the floor. Thankfully the rug took most of the impact.
Then there's a weight on me.
On my back, my hands bat at him, not really wanting him to leave. I fight on principle because I need to make him see that I'm fighting him, but in truth I'm not.
I want him.
I want himsobad.
He's mad at me.
And I hate it.
And Iloveit.
His angry red dick is pointing straight up, angled toward his chin, glistening already as he takes my legs and pulls them toward him, bracing his hands on either side of my head as he suspends his upper body. With one hand he adjusts the head of his cock toward my wet pussy before placing his hand back down beside my head.
Then, maintaining his plank pose above me, he rocks his hips forward so hard I cry out in pain. His dick slices straight through me, the head of his cock stabbing the entrance of my cervix, pain racing up through my belly and my back causing me to gag from it.
Pulling back his pelvis, he drives forward again, grunting with the effort of slamming into me hard.
Three more thrusts of this before he's repositioning himself. He sits back on his knees, pulling my hips closer. My thighs lay on either side of his, and with him sitting in this kneeling position he leans forward and places both his hands on my throat, his thumbs cross-sectioning around the front of it as he chokes me, using my neck as leverage.
His weight from his hands bears down just enough to pin me.
Even though his upper body is held off mine, I can barely breathe, only for him to pull back his hips and slam into me over, and over again. He's deeper like this.Sodeep that the pain is magnified. The pleasure runs parallel, catching up, causing my cries to become mingled with those of agony as this assault seems to last forever.
“Lincoln! LINCOLN!” I shriek his name.
My nails dig into his wrist, scraping frantically at the iron grip still clamped around my neck.
He’s careful, squeezing from the sides, avoiding my windpipe, but air comes in shallow, burning gasps anyway.
God, he’s strong.
Damn the sounds he's making, over here bucking like a bronco, fucking like a stallion, and grunting manically like an angry bull.
Damn it's too much.
The pain in my belly aggrandizes to a pinpoint of electrical overwhelm. My lips part wider, a silent cry building as my climax barrels toward me.
“Shut the fuck up!! You don't get to fucking come!” he threatens through his growling as he tightens his left hand around my throat, pulling back the right one to crack a slap across the left side of my left breast. My body jerks with the impact as I yelp.
Then his thumb forces its way into my mouth, hooking cruelly at the corner and dragging my lip downward until my jaw aches from the stretch.
His dick continues stabbing me hard with every unmerciful thrust. My eyes open and this man… spits in my fucking mouth!!!
What the f…
I almost want to laugh, and I would, if I wasn't being overwhelmed by the chaotic storm of pleasurable and painful sensations all at once.
His thumb stays wedged deep, pressing against my tongue, while his left hand clamps harder around my throat.
“Drink it,” he commands me as he folds in his lower lip, his mouth open, top teeth baring slightly, as he stares down on me like I'm nothing more than the dirt under his fingernails.
Goddamn.
The sheer audacity of it, the degradation, is so hot.
