Kinky Fuckery Sex


For whatever reason, a blast from my very recent past entered my mind today.  He was a decent guy, I guess.  It was purely sexual, with no real emotions involved.  We would meet once a week, grab a bite to eat, and then fuck – hard.  It was fun while it lasted, and when it was done, it seemed mutual.  Today, I remembered our last day together…

I drove through the rain down a long, curvy road.  We chatted on the phone to make sure I found his “country cottage.”  My mind was quiet, relaxed.  I knew exactly what I drove towards, and I was ready for it.

I pulled into the driveway.  Low hanging branches from old oak trees made the small house seem richer than it was.  The sprawling yard impressed even my country girl eyes.  I walked up to the front door, a grin playing on my lips, and knocked.

“Hey you!” he said, smiling.  He grabbed my hand and pulled me inside.

“Well hey to you, too!” I laughed.

He showed me around like a good host.  I used the bathroom.  I didn’t want the need to pee to interfere with anything later.

As I came out of the bathroom, he plugged in his iPhone and pulled up some music – Depeche Mode.  I smiled.  I had never fucked with background music before.

He looked up and a familiar gleam appeared in his eyes.  He grabbed me and gave me a bruising kiss.  He would take what he wanted from me – and I would let him.

We stumbled into the living room.  I stepped out of my shoes.  He pulled off my shirt.  I found a place for my glasses.  He unbuttoned my jeans.  His hand worked its way into my pants and found my wet pussy and throbbing clit.  He rubbed and fingered.  I began to grind against his hand, over and over again, stopping just short of coming.

I went to my knees in front of him and his cock filled my mouth.  I sucked and nibbled his head.  I licked and nibbled all the way down the shaft and back up; my hand playing with his balls.  He groaned and grunted and said, “I need more.”

He pushed me to all fours and pulled my jeans down around my knees.  In one motion, he entered my pussy until his balls slapped my ass.  Over and over, he fucked me.  He pumped like a fucking piston for long minutes.  He grabbed my hair and yanked me back.  My back arched to an impossible angle.  He allowed no slack.  Abruptly, he pushed me down until my face and tits rubbed against the carpet while he pounded away at my soaked pussy.  I vaguely realized carpet burns on my face would be hard to explain and put my hands under my cheek.  I grunted and groaned.  He pulled back, almost completely out of me, and slammed into me.  I screamed.

“Enough of this, I need your mouth.”

He pulled me up by my hair.  Somehow he was seated in a chair.  He pushed my head down on his cock, and I sucked my juices off of him.  He fucked my mouth as hard as he had fucked my pussy.  I put my hands on both his legs and willed him to be still.  I needed to play for a few minutes.  I looked up at him and watched him watching me.

“Ahhh, fuck, that is so hot when you look at me like that.”

I found a good rhythm and sucked, nibbled, licked, and loved his dick until he began to tremble.  He pushed me back down on the floor again, on my knees, ass out.  He slammed into my pussy again, over and over.  He pulled me back up by my hair, one hand on my ass, squeezing and pulling.  He kept up a brutal pace.  Sweat covered my body.  I felt raw inside and out.

When I thought I could take no more, he turned me around and presented his dick for my mouth.  I tasted myself once again.  Breathing hard, he sat back in the chair and watched me.

“Look at me.”

I looked up and kept eye contact.  His cock moved in my mouth the way that it had moved in my pussy moments before – tirelessly, unceasing, demanding.  I could taste his precum and knew he was close.

“No, not like this.”

Once again, I was on all fours, face pressed into the carpet.  He fucked my pussy, faster and faster.  I grunted and groaned; I shrieked and screamed.  Sounds came out of my body that no longer sounded human.  My pussy squelched; juices flowed down my legs like a river.  Finally, I felt him pound into me one more time, shudder, and then he released me.

“Oh baby, that was amazing,” he gasped.  “Fucking awesome! The best ever!  You’re amazing, baby.”

I just smiled.  I climbed up onto the couch.  My bones were made of jelly.  I could barely move.  He sat next to me.  I wanted to feel warm arms around me while I dozed. Instead, I laid there, untouched.

Somehow I knew that would be the last time.

About the author

Kayla Lords

I am a sex blogger, podcaster, freelance writer, international speaker, kink educator, and all-around kinky woman. You can find me online sharing my innermost sexual thoughts and experiences, teaching other bloggers how to make money writing about sex, and helping kinksters have happy healthy BDSM relationships. I'm also a masochistic babygirl submissive with an amazing and sadistic Daddy Dom and business partner, John Brownstone. Welcome to my kinky corner of the internet!


  • Gosh. Just reading about the unrelenting pace was hot. Being taken (because that’s how it read) near worked me up. Did you quit him because of the lack of physical affection? Just curious

    • It was a strange thing…right as I was finding my guy who inspires all the fantasies, I was feeling discontent because of the lack of physical affection…by the time this post occurred, we basically ONLY had rough sex once a week – if that…but it was one of those things that ended very quietly – we just stopped talking…I think if I had continued to reach out, he would have responded…but I didn’t want to anymore…so I didn’t…probably a chickenshit way to end things, though…

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