Tenderfoot

He did not take my top off or make attempts to kiss me all over.

He pecked me a few times on the lips and started to take his pants off.

Then he helped me take off mine.

We were both aware that there was no wetness, yet he wanted in.

Hence, it took a while before he could push all of himself in.

He had tried and tried, but his partner-in-crime wasn’t hard enough. He patted me on the back and asked me to suck his dick. I did, the way I knew how – slowly and continuously going up and down.

I guess I wasn’t doing what he expected of me because he clutched my hair extensions to control the pace.

He kept pushing my head down, making me take in the whole length of his veined accomplice.

I shut my eyes hard. I could withstand this pain. I could.

I fought back throwing up while the lines that separated my upper eyelids from the bottom were laced with tears. Saliva had found its way to my jaw and was slowly making its way to my neck.

We were at this for quite a while before he finally withdrew and gestured at me to stand.

I definitely did not feel sexy looking like a child who couldn’t control her buccal juices. I couldn’t look him in the face.

I saw his hand point to the bed so I went and laid down on the bed.

Then I looked at him.

He was stroking his accomplice now, his other hand on his hip.

I looked at his face.

He was laughing. He was laughing at me.

He meant for me to sit at the edge of the bed with my legs wide open instead I had lain down. He said it showed how lazy I was. He kept on laughing while I tried to conform into his desired position.

I felt absolutely stupid.

I was new to this thing. Is this how one was supposed to feel?

He knelt and tried again, this time he moved according to gear levels:

Gear 1 – he put in the tip;

Gear 2 – he went in slowly;

Gear 3 – he went back and forth. He took his time;

Gear 4 – he was fast now. I started to feel a little uncomfortable;

Gear 5 – he was rough now. He kept pushing himself in, in deep thrusts.

A ball of fire was building up. The pressure was too much. It was too hot.

It was too tight.

Oh Lord, painfully tight.

She spat him out, but he still forced himself in and skipped the four gear levels. He flew to Gear 5 straight away.

I had to lie back now. The pain was too much. I hoped lying back would relieve the pain. Unfortunately, it did not.

I groaned “Hmm. Hmm. Hmm”.

He could not see my face. He probably mistook it for sounds of pleasure because he would not stop.

I was not that strong. The tears streamed down.

I could feel some part of me rupturing now.

I tried to push him away, my hands and legs trying to push him away but he was stronger than I was.

I did not feel him cum. His fingernails informed me.

He drove them into the skin of my legs.

When he was done, he fell on the bed.

I did not bother to look at him; I just got up and managed to walk into the bathroom.

I took extra care to sit on the toilet seat. I did not want to hurt myself further. I tried to pee.

The first trickle caused me to yelp.

I dared not continue.  But I had no choice.

I sat there, my towel held tight over my mouth. I wailed all through the urinating process but no one heard me. I continued to cry after I was done.

I stayed a while in that toilet.

Physically and mentally hurt.

I was new to this thing. Is this how one is supposed to feel?

 …

That was two years ago.

Well, he called yesterday.

He spoke about how he wanted me back.

I laughed.

He spoke about how I was the best thing that had happened to him.

I laughed hard.

He said other girls were not as submissive as I was.

I laughed harder.

Then he said our sex was the best he had ever had.

The laughter did not come forth this time.

I asked – was it really?

He said yes.

He was hurting me the whole time and he had no idea.

He thought he was giving me pleasure.

Wow.