Tuesday, May 25, 2010

no one could have him but me.


He touched me, in places I did not even know existed making me feel things I had no clue were even able to be felt. In ways i did not even know were acceptable. All I could do was lay there and allow it to happen. It took about four or five times before I started to like the feeling he was giving me and by this then I had gotten so use to what was going on that I anticipated it happening.

Every night when my mother went to work I would lay in my bed excited and already wet because I knew he was coming into my room.
She worked as the night manager at one of the popular hotels in our area, so she never really had time to live, much less pay attention to what was going on with me, or around me for that matter. All she knew was "she was doing the best she could to support our family" blah blah blah. I was being fucked by both of them but in two entirely different ways.
She kissed my forehead bye and told me she would see me in the morning, she walked out of my room, out of the front door, and drove off with out a care in her head.

I waited, silently as I watched each light in the hallway magically shut off.

No foot steps,
no breathing,
no wooden creaks,
just disappearing lights.
And this...

This is how i knew he was close.

The room was so dark that I couldn't see my hands out in front of me, he felt his way up my calf, kissing on my thighs and sliding his fingers between my legs.
With one hand under my back to show me how he wanted me arched, he spread my lips apart and wrapped his warm moist tongue around my pearl as he slide a finger inside of me, pulling the hand that i rested on from behind me to cover my mouth with his other hand to keep me from making any noises. The more he sucked, the more my body trembled as if I was going into convulsions and right before I was ready to cum he lifted me up and slid his dick inside of me. Hands on my waist he plunged harder and deeper letting all of his pent up frustrations out on me. All i remember is pain for this was the first time we had ever went so far. But eventually the pain turned into pleasure and i could feel him growing harder inside of me. I began to moan louder asking him to stop but apparently those were not the words he wanted to hear cause he put the pillow over my face and began to stroke harder. I turned my head to the side to get what air I could but he began to get violently rough, he whispered in my ear for me to shut up as he turned me over on all fours. He put his hand on the back of my neck, my face in the pillow and then held my arms behind my back as he fucked me viciously, holding his head back and releasing all of his evil spirit into me. I was 16. And this was where my infatuation started.

All I could think about was sex and it got to the point where i did not want to know his name, or anything about him I just wanted to know if he would fuck me, fuck me, make me feel good and go on about his life. No attachments, no memories, just a good time.

Until I met Andrew.

There was something different about the way he handled me when we had sex. It was like I could feel that he gave a damn. He took his time with me showing me what it meant to have love made to you and not just fucked.

The way he made me feel started my obsession for him. And no one could have him but me.


Blogger lilbit said...

I wish a lot of people could read this and realize how often this happens and know that this is the reason why so many woman ave meaningless sex.we are so quick to judge and call a woman out her name without even knowing her story.makes u think.

November 8, 2010 at 12:36 PM  

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