Shame Me Not

He hoisted my leg up over the bend in his elbow and lifted it more than was comfortable before lining up with my opening and shoving in. It was too much and hurt and burned and was beautifully painful as he drove into me until his balls rested against my ass. Before I could get adjusted, he pulled out and pushed in again, harder than the first time.

Tears sprung to my eyes at the burn in my thigh when he lifted it higher, stretching me to my limit. He pounded into me, frantic to get closer as I held on, feeling every thrust. The force pushed me harder into the bark scraping my back, adding to the complete sensation overload. All of it consuming my body and circling back to meet at my cunt where he owned me. We didn’t say a word, only speaking in grunts and whimpers and bites and scratches.

His teeth latched onto my shoulder as he thrust two more times before biting down and growling out a release that sparked my own. My cries fell into the night air, echoing in the empty park. He thrust again as I came down from my climax waiting for the regret to consume me.

But it didn’t.

Instead, I was met with relief. I was met with coming home. No thoughts of how wrong it all was waited for me. The only thought thumping through my mind was again, again, again. I wanted more and I wanted it with Kevin. I hadn’t let myself feel that way in so long. Not since we’d last been together, and having him give it to me felt like a great gift I wanted to open over and over again.

He pulled back, assessing my reaction. I hoped he could see the relief I felt, like a knot had been loosened in my chest. In case he couldn’t, I leaned up and nipped his chin. He pulled out and released my leg, just to hold my shoulders and shove me to my knees. He removed the condom and gave his order. “Clean me.”

I didn’t hesitate. My hands landed on his hips as I let the tip of my tongue touch the crown of his dick. The salty tang of his release exploded in my mouth as I leaned in to wrap my lips and suck his softening cock. I relished the feel of the mulch digging into my knees and my calves cramping as I cleaned him from every drop of his release.

It didn’t take long before his hands thrust into my hair and his dick was hard again. Fully erect, he gripped my hair in two sections and pulled them to either side of the tree, pinning me between the rough bark and his thrusting dick as he fucked my face. He bumped the back of my throat and I gagged only causing him to moan and thrust harder.

Then he pulled back, lifting me to stand, flipping me around to face the tree. With another condom in place he pushed into me and fucked me from behind. His hips slapped into my ass and mixed with my moans.

“More,” I barely got the word out, but he heard me.

“More? You want more than what I’ve already given you? More than how I just shoved my dick down your throat? More than the way I made you clean my cum off my dick until I was ready to fuck your tight pussy again? More than that?” My head bobbed, unable to choke out the words. “Such a slut.”

His words were different than when we were teenagers discovering the dark side of ourselves. They stroked my skin with a confidence he hadn’t had before. This wasn’t a boy behind me, stumbling through doubts and desire anymore, but a man who knew how to use my body and I loved it. It had been too long since I’d let myself have it.

I heard the slap before I felt the stinging burn against my ass. One hand dug into my hips, holding me in place as he used me, probably leaving bruises. The other rained down slaps along the top of my ass to the side and bottom. Some hard, some soft, and the uncertainty made the sting all the more pleasurable.

With my ass burning, he leaned over my back, letting his shirt roughly move against the abused skin. “That enough for you? Or you want more?”

“More. Please. Always more,” I whimpered, feeling shame for never having enough. It only heightened the sensations flooding me.

“Such a slut. Tell me you’re my slut and maybe I’ll let you come on my dick,” he whispered in my ear, biting the lobe.

“Yes.”

“Say it, Anabelle.”

“I’m a slut. I’m your slut.” A fire bloomed in my chest and flooded my cheeks in embarrassment at admitting it. I didn’t care.