Wednesday, April 4, 2012

How I Found out I’m Kinky Part Five: I Am a Greedy Little Brat

Sweetie was really upset about the grabbing-for-second-base aspect of Bill. It was the first of many consent-themed fights with her. Bill caused more fights in our household than any other guy before or since. I do want to write about the problematic aspects of the relationship, but for a few posts, I’d just like to focus on the hotness.

I’ve already written about the importance of date two, and I’m rarin’ to go when it comes to what happened on our third date.

Since he didn’t have a place he could bring me home to, all but our first date happened in my apartment. We got a routine going: he’d come over around 10 am, kiss me emphatically, and we’d make stilted conversation while I cooked him breakfast. I have a little bit of a Mad Men thing, so I didn’t mind a little housewifery at all. I especially liked it when he’d pull me into his lap after breakfast and spank me. Once, while doing this, he dangled me upside down and said “Do you trust me?

“…Somewhat?”

I’d had a few dates with the MKT, but I was still quite inexperienced-I was hoping that in the process of pushing me around, Bill could teach me a thing or two.

That day, he pushed me onto the couch like I’d always wanted, angrily shoving me down and holding me by the wrists. He unbuttoned my pants and ripped them off in one angry motion. The he grabbed my lucky underwear and yanked them off in an equally swift and ruthless way. Violent. He pulled my legs apart and then sat back and played, suddenly cheery and peaceful humming to himself, fully clothed while I was naked. Then he pulled me up and lay down on the couch, pulling me on top of him. He held my shoulders and looked at me, playing with my nipples. Occasionally he’d give my boob a little smack, and I’d yell at him for using move that clearly quoted mainstream porn.

“I don’t want to think about porn, I want to think about you.”

That made him kiss me harder and give me a few good bites to my arm. He put his hand across my throat and I pulled it off.  To get his hand between my legs, he had to push my belly out of the way. He gave a little sneering laugh about this, but I just leaned back so he could get at me. With his other hand, he grabbed my hair and pulled me into a vicious kiss.

“You’re a little brat, aren’t you?”

(cue fireworks)

“Mmmmmm hmmmmm”

“You’re my little brat. You’re only sweet to get what you want. You just have to have everything because you’re such a greedy little brat.”

(Okay, fucking swoon. Also, “Greedy Little Brat in ‘012” was my New Year’s Resolution)

He pushed his fingers inside me. He had these deliciously fat fingers that I just adored.

“Are you my little brat?”

“Uh huh.”

“You’d better be, or I’ll leave.”

“Okay.”

My head got smushed down into the couch pillow. He kept calling me names and pulling my hair and biting me and fucking the shit out of me with his hand until I was yowling/screaming/crying.

“Come on. Come on, you can do it. Ah, come for me, ya little brat.”

I kept yowling until I was done. It was like nothing I’d ever felt before. He shoved his fingers into my mouth and I happily sucked.

When it was his turn, I felt suddenly shy. He was hard underneath me and I wanted to go down on him but I hadn’t done that in a long, long time. I said, “Seriously, there was a World Trade Center the last time I did this.”

He unzipped his pants, grabbed me by the hair, and showed me what to do. I gagged as much as I could. I had a teenage fear of putting my teeth in the wrong place, but I was just happy to have his/a dick in my mouth. He was not a patient teacher. He ripped my head up and down and gave me notes on how to do better. You know I always want to be an A student. After a while he pulled me up next to him and took matters into his own hands.

I love to watch guys jerk off. When I look at porn (not often these days) I look at bukkake, not so much for the messy parts but for the sight of so many men playing with themselves at once. When he asked me to tell him what I wanted, I said,

“Well, I like to idea of being come on. Like, a lot.”

I talked a little, but he talked a lot.

“I’m just gonna take you, just throw you down and fuck you, like a little rag doll.”

“I like to feel like I can’t get away.”

“What makes you think you could?

“Let’s say for the sake of argument that it just feels that way.”

“You wanna be my little cum rag?”

By now I’d joined him in getting handsy with myself.

“When I fuck you, and I will fuck you, I’m just gonna…pull the condom off and come all over you, is that what you want?”

That’s when he came. It was the first time anybody ever talked dirty to me. I wanted so much more.

Coming up: Christmas and the long goodbye.

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