Rusty met Jenna at a friend's New Year's Eve party. They drank and danced and drank and flirted and drank and did the ceremonial New Year's Eve chaste kiss thing and drank. And ... she was pretty hammered. She kinda threw herself at him that night, but he just didn't feel right about it. Even if she wouldn't have had any regrets, he still had to look at himself in the mirror the next morning. He had his friend call her an Uber to get home safe and caught one for himself.
A few days later, his friend texted him that Jenna asked him for Rusty's number. Huh. Okay, sure! They texted back and forth for a while; nothing overt, just "hey, how are ya?" kinds of messages. Then she asked him if he wanted to get some coffee. Absolutely! He had been pretty drunk at the party as well, but he remembered thinking she was pretty damn hot. They made plans for later that week, and Thursday afternoon found him sitting in the coffee shop and waiting for her.
A car door opened, and legs came out. And came out. And kept coming out. Damn, he didn't remember her legs as being *that* long. Wow. Those legs brought her over to his table. Man, what a knockout. If this was her "after work" look, he wondered what her "going out on a Friday night" look was. Stunning, reddish-blond hair in waves down her back. Sparkling blue eyes. Full lips. And positively enormous tits. Damn. No wonder he had enjoyed dancing with her that night!
"Rusty, I just wanted to say thank you. I was wasted that night, and my friends told me that I was basically dry humping you at the party. It would have been super easy for you to throw me onto a bed somewhere, but you didn't. And when I woke up the next morning, in my home and bed, fully dressed, I realized that you were more than just another tall, good looking guy with nice eyes. You're actually ... a good guy. And ... I can't believe I'm pouring all this out at once. But I'd like to get to know you a lot better."
Who was he to say no to that?!
Their relationship continued along the lines as expected. They dated, then dated exclusively. They made out, which led to petting, which led to making love. He had been trying to move slowly, so she'd know that she was taking the lead, that they were moving on her timeline. But his predatory brain wanted to throw her on the bed and fuck her into next week. Still, though. He was patient and respectful, at all times. At least, externally.
One night she called. Something had happened at work, but she was too upset to talk about it. He asked if he could come over. She said she'd like that, so he did. And they talked. That was all. Talk. She was really upset; she didn't need him to be all handsy or anything. She needed a friend more than a boyfriend. They slept in each other's arms. He held her, kissed her forehead, told her how special she was. Just generally trying ... to love her.
The next morning, he woke up late, and she was already up and off to work. There was a note by the bed:
"Sweet Rusty,
I needed that last night. I needed to be held, and cherished. Kissed and cuddled. Tears wiped, hair stroked. Rocked like a baby.
Tonight when I get home...
Don't adore me. Destroy me.
Make me cum until I cry.
Bend me forward and bury your cock inside me.
Pound me until I pass out.
I don't want to be admired, I want to be annihilated.
I trust you'll accept your assignment?
Love, Jenna"
Well. Who was he to deny the lady what she wanted? And perhaps his predator brain had been dormant too long.
When he got home from work that evening, he took a quick shower and headed over to her place. He found her there in a dazzling dark green satin and lace peignoir, brushing her hair and gazing in the mirror. He walked up behind her, wrapping his hands around her waist. His lips grazed her ear, whispering "Hello, beautiful." She melted back into him. His hands slid up her sides, over her shoulders, and gently around her neck. She shivered with goosebumps, or maybe that was her heart pounding. He moved his left hand up to the nape of her neck ...
... and forcefully pulled her hair back, tilting her face to his. His lips, millimeters from hers, his eyes on fire. "You had something you wanted me to do tonight?" He growled, claiming her lips with my own.
She pushed back against him. "Yes... I wanted you to DEVOUR me." She pushed him down to his knees, then lifted the peignoir off over her head. He waited, wanting to see how she wanted to play this out. He didn't have to wait long.
She pulled him into her, his lips brushing her pussy. That, then, was his cue. He grabbed her ass and forced her to his mouth, tasting how wet she already was. The taste, the aroma ... she was addictive. His tongue parted her lips, allowing more of her delicious juices into his mouth. Her clit peeked into view, throbbing with need and desire.
He pushed her onto the bed, like he'd dreamed of doing a thousand times. With one hand, he reached over her leg and spread her lips apart, so he could concentrate his mouth's attention on her clit. With the other hand, one, then two fingers slid frictionlessly into her core, pounding deeper and deeper. He turned that hand over, so he could curve his fingers upward and find the pebbly flesh of her g spot. She moaned. Oh, it was ON now.
Before that night, his fingers had only lovingly caressed her pussy... that night, they fucked her cunt. Harder, faster, deeper than she thought possible. And when his teeth closed around her clit, she lost all control, thrashing and bouncing on the bed. She screamed "I'm cumming!", but he didn't stop. Not for anything. He finger-fucked her through a dozen orgasms, or maybe it was just one that kept cresting over and over and over again. And every thrust was punctuated by a slight nip on her clit. His fingers, the bed, her pussy, everything was drowning in her honey, but he refused to stop. She moaned "I can't take much more of this!" He didn't give a damn.
Somewhere along the way, she lost track of his left hand; he knew she'd lost track of time, dimension, reality, and everything else. But she came swirling back to her body when his thumb pushed against the tight little rosebud of her ass. She gasped, begged him to stop, not to touch her *there*! He didn't give a damn.
Then, just then, her world shattered. She found true bliss, for the first time in her life. Every other orgasm she'd ever experienced became a footnote, a shadow of this sensation. The sky erupted, her pussy spasmed once, twice, three times, then ... blackness. Just the full body sense of happiness.
Her eyelids fluttered open, as she slowly drilled through the layers of consciousness. Her body felt heavy but completely satisfied; the delicious soreness deep inside her core speaking to the bliss that sent her into the stratosphere. Now, as she returned to Earth, he was there, standing over her, throbbing cock in hand. And with fire in his eyes, he said, "Round 2." Her stomach flipped over with anticipation.
But then his eyes softened. "Darling, you've never been more beautiful. Would you like some water?" And she noticed that, yeah, she was a little dry in the mouth, almost as dry as her pussy and thighs were wet. She smiled at his thoughtfulness in the midst of his sexual destruction of her body and soul. "Yes, please," she said. He backed away.
She stretched to get up from the bed, but something wasn't right. Her body didn't seem to respond. Then she saw the smirk on his face, the softness in his eyes gone. Finally, terrifyingly, she realized her arms were tied to the bedposts above her head. Two thoughts rushed through her mind, warring for control: oh shit! and oh fuck yeah!
He lowered a water bottle to her lips. "Drink, darling. You're gonna need it. And please remember..." The pause grew more menacing as it lengthened. "You begged me to do this to you." She moaned in anticipation.
Suddenly, he threw the empty bottle to the floor and grabbed her feet, free from the ropes. Pulling them apart, his hands flew to her cunt. Two fingers probed inside slowly, checking to see if she was ready to take the fucking she needed. "Hmm... Not quite yet. See what I can do about that."
From the bedside table, he soaked his fingers in body oil, then attacked. Three fingers in her cunt, his other hand furiously manhandled her clit. She realized that she'd been used, thoroughly finger-fucked like never before, so part of her mind said she should be too sore to respond. But not for the first time that day, she realized as her cunt betrayed her by drenching the sheets for the 93rd time today, that he knew her body better than she did, and tonight was all about redefining her limits.
"There. Now you're ready." He stood up and slid a thick pillow under her ass, tilting her body upwards. Her juices flowed down her cunt and between her ass cheeks. She looked at him, and his cock looked like steel. Between her thighs, he swatted her pussy violently with his cock, causing her clit to throb. "Please" she begged. He leaned over her, his face so close to hers. "Oh, I will." He said with a growl.
And he speared her. Balls deep instantly. Then back out, and back in fully. Pounding her cunt rhythmically. Fast, then faster, then faster still. She wailed wordlessly, her voice louder and higher than he'd ever heard. But he wasn't stopping. He varied speeds, so she had no clue when the next thrust would drive the walls of her cunt apart. Time faded to the background. Seconds, minutes passed, and there was nothing in her world but cunt and cock. "God, yes! Yes! Fuck my cunt! Pound it! Fuck me! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!" And her body went limp.
He slid out, and her juices flooded the bed again. She looked down, and somehow, he was still granite hard. "Catch your breath, gorgeous. I'm not going to drain my balls into your well-fucked cunt until at least round 3..."
When she woke up, he was lying beside her, caressing her skin. "You are so beautiful. And when you sleep, I feel like you're a Botticelli angel, too pure and perfect for a mortal like me." She stirred at his words and found that her arms were now free. She reached out to him, and they embraced briefly.
"And now that you're awake, I realize that you are almost too perfect for the urges your body stirs in me. The raw, animal fucking I want to give you. Looking into your eyes... I just can't treat you like a sex object." She started to whimper. It seemed she kinda liked being torn apart from the inside, having her core pummeled and her boundaries pushed.
"I realized, while you were napping, that there was only one thing I could do and still be true to my own sense of honor, of right and wrong. Your eyes, your mouth, your face is too beautiful to be objectified, to be fucked like a horny slut. It just isn't right. So..."
