Silent Struggle

The way you look back at me tells me all I need to know. I fear what is to come, but I also lust for it, crave it. It is one of the times were you want me to be rough with you. Make you mine, use you for my pleasure. I long for these nights, these times of uninhibited passion. But I also fear these nights, or rather the morning after. The waking up into a world were sheer power is no longer mine.

You don't understand what you're putting me through. What suffering you cause me. You only see, feel hear and smell the height of my passion during these encounters. My eyes close, my organ seems to grow beyond its usual size, my voice drops a tetrachord, the room fills with the ripe odour of masculine arousal. You take pleasure in the fact that my hands seem to know when to wander and when to stay. You take pleasure in the tug of your hair on your scalp when I pull back your head. You become more and more aroused when I tell you that I will make you mine. Forcing you onto your hands and knees. Roughly parting your legs with my knees. By then you are always wet. Your senses aroused by the symphony you taught me how to play. Your outer lips are spread in a lascivious fashion.

But you don't understand how powerful this drug called power is. How much I yearn for more. How I feel enlivened by these shorts moments of authority. To you this is a once a fortnight or even a once a month deviation from the gentle rule. To me it is the pinnacle of pleasure, the long awaited release lasting only a few short minutes.

How did we get here? Why have our lives become so complicated? Where are the simple pleasures of our courting days? The ease with which we could persuade each to give ourselves away?

I believe authority took a foothold in my mind in that lust-filled night of our first holiday. You were more than slightly inebriated, having imbibed far more than usual. The dehydration caused by the Mediterranean sun might have played a part, too. During the course of our meal your mood seemed to descend, reaching rock bottom just before dessert. You fielded all my attempts at levity with a curt smile and a brief response. Finally, over the digestif you opened up. Like the pressurised water jet of a breached damn your first utterance forced a path for many more that night.

"Take me home and make me yours." A sentence so unlike you. You, with your gentle nature, your welcoming smile, your bottomless capacity for forgiveness.

"Make me your little toy. Take me roughly." Again, nothing I had ever heard you say. Of course there were times when you demanded me to fuck you. To take you hard. But certainly nothing of this nature.

"Sven used to do that, you know?" Your ex had not turned up in conversations for more than 4 months. Where were you taking me that night? "He used to just pull my hair back and call me a bitch. Get some lube and shove a finger up my ass while fucking me from behind or when I was on top. Sometimes he even fucked me up the ass. He always admired my little crinkled star. Said it reminded him of something. Can't remember what."

That night we made it back to our tent in very different states of mind. You, clearly in a state of arousal which I had never know. Me, severely shell-shocked by your admissions about how you left Sven due to his roughness and your simultaneous yearning for said roughness.

Once inside the tent you hung up a torch light and then began to pull down your skirt and your underwear. Halfway down your thigh you stopped. "Is it okay if I undress?" At first I was surprised by your request. "Sure, that's what you do before you go to bed, isn't it?" But the look on your face suggested that you wanted more. "Would you like me to undress?" Understanding dawned, implications swirled through my mind. With a voice thick with lust I told you not to bother. "Get on your knees. And do not disappoint me."

You certainly did not disappoint me that night. You followed every single one of my orders. First you brought oral ministrations upon my penis I had never felt before. You carefully licked the entire length, all the while murmuring as you would to your dearest friend. You forced my entire member down your throat, making yourself gag, your eyes streaming yet looking pleadingly up at me. When I asked you if you were okay you almost snapped at me, but recovered just in time. Instead you asked "Did I not please you? Did my tears not arouse you?" Although I felt like saying "No" I also knew that this was not the answer you wanted to hear. And somewhere inside me a small part of me showed only a little bit of guilt about the fact that I felt so utterly in control and enjoyed it so much.

That night I learned how it feels to possess a body to do with as you please. On a regular night you hate the taste of cum, can't abide the idea of kneeling in front of me to pleasure me with your mouth. But not this night. Your hands went up to my back, forcing me deeper into your mouth, then searching for my hands. Once you had found them you put them behind your head, making it clear that you would like your face to be taken like I would take you on some of our more vigorous nights. With my hands tightly gripping your hair I came quickly, announcing my imminent ejaculation with the words "Swallow every single drop, you bitch." And you did. With wanton pleasure.

But my arousal was not satiated. Seeing you swallow my semen I longed for more.

"Turn around."

Once you were facing away from me I flipped your skirt up. Your luscious ass came into view. I have always admired your derrière. It is just a little bit too big to appear in a magazine. It has, however, the satiny smoothness of an eighteen year old girl.

Pulling your underwear further down your thighs I dove in-between your legs. My tongue searching for your wetness, my finger kneading the cheeks of your ass. But this did not seem to pleasure you as much as it normally would, instead you seemed to grow indifferent, nearly bored.

"Tell me how good my tongue is, you ungrateful whore." I slapped your naked ass cheek with my bare hand. My fingerprints showed immediately. I continued to slap your ass while it seemed as if you tried to cram your fist in your mouth. At first I mistook this for an attempt to focus on something else but the pain I visited upon your ass. Then I saw your inner thighs beginning to glisten in the light of our little torch light. You arousal became more and more obvious. The fist soon wasn't enough to keep your moans at bay. They escaped around your knuckles.

We played this game long into the night. Only when dawn finally came did we stop. You clearly satisfied. My mind simultaneously gripped in a heightened state of arousal and a maelstrom of uncertainty of unknown origin.

Over the following weeks I started to comprehend why my uncertainty was justified. You simply acted like that glorious night never happened. Our love-making returned to its tender nature, although maybe somewhat more frequently. Any attempts of mine to coax you into letting me dominate you failed. In some cases quite spectacularly. Once I blatantly tried to remind you 'of your place'. My hand on the nape of your neck I told you that was "time to suck my dick and drink down all that spunk, you little slut. If you do it well I'll even take you over my knees and spank your ass." Your response was a short, sharp slap and a rather intimidating "Never ever try that again."

Days turned into weeks. Then, out of the blue, one night your mood turned. You walked into our bed room and returned in a very short dress with obviously not much underneath. You are a loud proponent of feminine comforts and g-strings certainly don't belong into this category. That night it seemed you threw all comfort into the wind.

"Would it please you if I knelt before you?" Immediately I knew that this would be one of those rare nights of uninhibited passion. How I had longed for this moment and there it was, virtually delivered to me without any of my own effort.

"Actually it would please me far more if you would take the top of your dress off before you kneel down." You followed this implied instruction without hesitation. The dress remained bunched around your waist while your breast hung free. And again, like the first time so many weeks ago, you fellated me in such a knowing fashion that I questioned your usual display of innocence. Knowing my power would only last this night I decided to make the most of it. After enjoying your mouth for several minutes, vigorously pushing my member as deep as possible into your throat, I told you to stand up, turn around and bend over the table.

"Your ass is delectable, dear. I will have to fuck it, I believe." Your breath stopped, you whimpered and began to pull on your nipples. "You wouldn't do anything nasty like that to me, would you?" I nearly laughed out loud when I heard your pleading voice, both of us knowing full well that you were the one who had told me about your yearning for Sven's uninhibited fucking of your ass while you were gushing with orgasms.

"No, I wouldn't do anything as nasty as that to you. I'll do something even nastier to you." With that I lifted your dress up and pulled your g-string to the side. My tongue coated your little pucker with saliva. Then, without hesitation, I slapped your ass hard several times. In between moans you tried to tell me something, causing me to rage on the inside. How dare you try and speak to me while I was clearly dominating you?

"Shut up and take it like a real woman, you little slut" I told you and pulled your hair back sharply. Immediately you started growing wetter and wetter. When I believed that no higher level of wetness was possible I entered you from behind, whetting my appetite and wetting my penis in your most delectable cunt.

"It's wet now, you horny little bitch. I'll push it up your ass. Hope you enjoy the ride, because I sure as hell will." With those words I lined up my penis with you butt hole and pushed. After several seconds your anus had still not budged, so I grabbed your hair and told you to fuck me back. Again you surprised me with your submissiveness. Grabbing your ass cheeks you spread them wide and then pushed yourself onto my cock.

The heavens opened, the angels sang and played a funky tune on the horns. And then the devil made an appearance, telling me to stick it to you roughly like there was no tomorrow. When my mind returned to full consciousness I felt myself fucking you so hard that the table rocked further and further through the lounge. Your squeals were music to my ears, your tightness pleasure to my loins. Knowing that it would send you over the edge I unloaded myself deep inside you, causing you to twitch, groan and clamp down on my penis with your ass.

The next morning was as loving as ever. The nasty little minx gone, replaced by a tender girlfriend. The only indication that I had taken your behind over the table the previous night were your red cheeks when you came out of the toilet. Clearly my semen had just come back out. And again weeks passed without any indication of your submissive side.

The intervals between these encounters seemed to shorten, ever so slowly. By now we are down to two, sometimes four weeks rather than the eight to ten weeks it was at the beginning. But while I clearly see the statistical evidence I am still concerned. So when I part your knees roughly with mine my mind returns from its visit of the past and the usual slight nervousness sets in. I know that I am less and less able to control my lust for power. I know you are delighted to be taken harshly, but only on certain nights. I, however, want to take you like this always and forever. Last time I forced my cock down your throat straight out of your ass. How low can I stoop this time to get me through the two or possibly four weeks in between these glorious encounters? How can I heighten my thrills, how can I prolong this ecstasy?

But as always your beckoning overcomes all my fears. Like always I fuck you with reckless abandon. Knowing full well that one day I will become another Sven. Jurassic road kill, too slow to adapt to your ever-fluctuating changing sexual preferences. My road to perdition is plastered with lust for power, yours with lust for lust. But while it lasts I love the way you feel when you're mine. Completely and utterly mine.