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Blogs > GamerGirl209 > My Blog

I want to feel fucked  

GamerGirl209 29F
2 posts
7/17/2019 5:25 pm
I want to feel fucked
Soft, loving, sensual sex has its place. I like it. I enjoy it. Sometimes I even crave it. But most of the time I want it harder; brutal, passionate, raw.

Because afterward, when we've both returned to our lives, I want to feel fucked. I want to carry the memory of your touch with me wherever I go, feeling your presence and your ownership for as long as I can.

I like my pussy to be sore for days after, that ache deep inside that reminds me of the pounding you gave me. My little hole all stretched and swollen from your cock and fingers, my clit extra sensitive for days and days because of your rough use.

I want my arms and legs to ache from being twisted and held in difficult positions. My throat sore to remind me of the way you took control and made me choke on your cock, my jaw aching from how much effort I gave you.

I glance down at my naked body and notice bruise after bruise that wasn't there before. The deep ones on my breasts taking a few days to bloom, telling the story of just exactly where your fingers have been; where they dug into my soft flesh and made me flinch and try to wriggle away.

Going about my day, I catch sight of myself in a mirror or a window and see the bruises on my arms getting bigger and angrier. I smile as I remember the way you held me so firmly, and how you grabbed and moved me into just the spot you wanted.

I feel that tenderness around my neck from being choked. It is perhaps a little swollen, but not usually bruised. It's just there - I know it is there, and I feel it whenever I move my head. As is that tender spot on my chest where your wrist rested as your fingers tightened around my neck.

My clit throbs as I remember the way it felt to give myself up to you, to find it difficult to breathe and not fight it - but submit instead. It is<b> intoxicating.

</font></b>And then there's my bottom, obviously. Cover it in a symphony of strokes that leave a kaleidoscope of color. I want to spend a week twisting around to check out my ass in the mirror, tracking the progress from and red, to black and blue, with purple and then that tinge of yellow and green. Every time I close my eyes and sigh I remember the strike of your hand, belt, cane, paddle... I remember my pleading, my tears, even - and I remember how you ignored it all as you focused on hurting me just exactly how you wanted.


I want to think "why is my wrist sore?", "where did that bruise on my leg come from?", and so many other similar things - and then remember.

I want to flinch every time I sit down, making every effort to hide it and not let the people around me know the secret beneath my clothes.

As I lie in bed at night waiting for sleep to take me I want to feel the aches, throbs, and stings that cover my messed up body and remember you - the images of what we did swirling through my mind and making me smile.

And please know that when your marks finally fade and my pussy returns to normal - I will be wistful. I will be sad. Because your marks belong on my body, and I want them again.

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