As I lay there, bound and helpless, I couldn’t help but get turned on by this type of torture sex. The anticipation of what was to come filled me with both dread and arousal. The man who called himself You approached me, his eyes darkening as he ran a rough hand down my body. He was huge – much larger than any man I’d ever been with before. His touch sent shivers of excitement through my core despite the fear that gripped my heart.
He began by teasingly tracing his fingers over every inch of my skin, paying special attention to those places that made me squirm in pleasure: my breasts, stomach, thighs… everywhere except where I ached for him most – between my legs. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of tormenting build-up, he positioned himself at last between them and slowly pushed inside me.
I gasped at the initial pain but soon found myself lost in the sensation as he started moving within me; each thrust causing a fresh wave of agony mixed with ecstasy to wash over me. It felt so wrong yet so right all at once; like nothing else mattered except this moment where our bodies were intertwined in a dance of dominance and submission.
His hips pounded against mine relentlessly while his other hand roughly squeezed one breast while pinching the nipple on another sending shockwaves through out entire being .As if reading my thoughts ,he leaned down ,his hot breath fanning across face “You love this don’t you?” He growled into ear .”You love being used like this.” And suddenly I couldn’t deny it any longer. The truth was undeniable; I did love this – loved how he took control and made me feel wanted despite the circumstances. My body responded eagerly to his every touch, moaning in pleasure as he continued to pound into me without mercy.
Rena
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