I struggled to define her. She was different from most women I am attracted to. As I got to know her, the impression I got was that she was hard. She had lived harder than most of the sweet soft girls I typically find myself interested in. Kissing her was different as well. I kissed her hard. I had her braced against the wall, held in place by the full weight of my body. She was lean and muscular, her breasts small. My grip was firm and I held her hard to my lips. Her thigh, in my other hand, was taught. Her muscles hard in my hand.
She had removed her shoes, flipping them from her feet as we entered her small apartment. She was smaller without the heels. She approached me with desperation and I took her. Her belt I tugged free easily but her jeans, fit tightly to her lean body, were more difficult. I had struggled to free the buttons and then lifted her onto a small entryway table, resting her ass, clad only in a thin pair of panties, on the edge causing the table to creak. I wrestled her free of the jeans and she wrapped her thin strong legs around me.
"Tear it." She said through clenched teeth as I struggled with the buttons on her shirt. Without hesitation I complied. The thin material tore easily revealing more of her body. Her bra came loose easily and small breasts with long erect nipples were revealed. The wall, now limiting my access to her, had to be abandoned. She clung to my body and I carried her, my hand on her ass, grasping at the fit muscles sufficient to carry her weight down the small hall to the back of a couch that served to divide a small sitting room from an even smaller kitchen.
"Fuck yeah, do me now, like this." Her ass was in the air and she parted her legs, her small dark asshole and a deep red cunt opened for me. I tugged free of my own jeans. I sampled her wet hole with my finger, she was ready, and I pressed my cock, swollen and aching for her inside. She gasped at its girth and I pressed harder to enter her more deeply. "Yeeeeeah." She begged. "Fuck yeah."
I didn't coddle her or hold her. I didn't whisper sweet thoughts of how beautiful she looked or how sweet she tasted. I held her by her hips and slammed my cock into her. She moaned and gasped, I grunted. I sweated with the exertion and grasped at her hips until my arms ached. I would not relent and I would not come. Not yet. I fucked her.
"Harder." She hissed at me and I reached for her, a fist full of hair filling my fingers. I pulled her to me over the back of the shitty sofa, her back arched, her legs, not long enough to reach the floor, flailed at my sides. She was a marionette, a meat puppet, suspended before me by sandy blonde hair. Her ass, smaller than the spread of my extended hands, tempted me. It taunted me. I wanted it.
"I want your ass." I said simply,
"NO." she gasped. "Not yet."
"Yes."
"Come in me first. Fucking fill me."
Who the fuck am I to argue with that shit. I had to let go of her hair. I held her waist. It was hard as shit, fucking Pilates, man. I pulled her back against me. She was nearly off the couch. 'Yes." She growled. "Fuck, yes." I was sweating but I was close. She was just so fucking hard and tight. Her arms, still wrapped in what was left of her white shirt gripped at the sofa cushions slowly pulling it apart. "Fuck, yeah!" she called out. I felt her, it was like fucking a fist and she nearly pressed my cock out of her as she came. I joined her, my dick swelling with each burst of cum as it shot into her; sloppily I fucked on, cum dripping from her wet cunt. "Yeah." She said again, her back arching. I fucked for as long as I came and it felt like I came for fucking ever. I didn't want it to stop but I did. I released her. Her small lean body collapsed on what was left of the couch.
I fought to catch my breath and looked down on her. I still had my jeans on up to my thighs. I still had my shirt on; it was a rumpled mess. She looked older now; even with her eyes and mouth closed I could see the lines etched into her tan skin. I still wanted her though. I wasn't done; I was just recovering. She wasn't done either; I hoped she realized that. I undressed as I watched her, mulling what to take next.
Approaching her, she seemed so small. I knew I could just pick her up. Beside the shitty couch was a shitty chair. I sat down in it presenting my half hard cock.
"Come here." I told her. She opened her eyes looking at me. She smiled a little, that hard smile she had given me that afternoon when I asked if she wanted a drink. She was scary in that bitchy, lonely, almost fifty way some women had. The conversation had seemed difficult; again, she was a hard woman. I paid for our drinks thinking nothing would come of it and it was only standing at her car that the evening seemed a possibility.
"I have some wine at my place." She had said.
