For Vixen

Brancie and Vixen

revised

Love to Hate You Baby

My friend J and I are fighting. It started when I got pissed at him on my birthday and has escalated into something completely out of control. I told him no matter what he tried, he could never get me to hate him. I had intended for him to view that as loyalty. He seems instead to have viewed it as a challenge. I've got to tell you, he's got mad skills when he puts his mind to something.

So here's the problem: I am so fucking horny for him right now. Really. He has never been as attractive to me before as he is right now. He refused to even look at me last night when I was out, and it just made me want to drag him into the bathroom and fuck his brains out. But I didn't think that would go over well. It's not the first time this has happened either. Hate sex is my favorite.

I think for most people, at least most of the ones I've talked to, hate and sex don't go together. Vixen and S have both told me that when they dislike someone or are extremely angry with someone they don't want to be touched by that person at all. It makes sense and I'm pretty sure that is normal. But I just can't identify with it.

Some years ago I worked in the office of a small manufacturing company. The maintenance foreman there was an ornery bastard all the time. He didn't particularly get along with anyone, but he especially didn't get along with me. There were some things I needed every department head to turn in to me every week. Every single week his paperwork was late. And every single week I'd have to chase him down in the plant to get what I needed. I became very adept at ambushing him all over the building, which he hated. He would rant and rave about how he had more important things to do and I would yell back that he was welcome to explain that to the people who worked under him when they didn't get a paycheck the following week. Putting us in the same meeting was like storing matches next to a powder keg.

It's a long and not at all sexy story about how we got there so I'll skip that part, but we ended up having a torrid affair up until I left to go to another company. I would show up at his house at about 8 or 9 and we would fuck all night. He had drawers full of interesting toys and a mean streak to match his attitude problem. I would leave there around 4 in the morning when he got up to get ready for work. I was usually pretty bruised up and sometimes bleeding. In return he was covered in bite marks and scratches, which occasionally were also bleeding. Nothing ever changed at work; we still couldn't stand one another. And we didn't do much talking when we were alone. But we both had a thing for angry sex and getting together every week to make hate to each other suited us both just fine. When I left the company I never spoke to him again. I look back on it as some of the best sex of my life.

I don't know if J is like this. I suspect he is not and it's not a good time to ask. Which is too bad really; he can be pretty volatile when he's angry, which just ends up filling my head with visions of getting tossed around like a ragdoll and yelled at until his fury is spent and my desire sated. I think it would be amazing. I know it would take the edge off. Instead I'll stay home tonight and start a friction fire under my blankets. Thank God for batteries in 48 packs from Costco.

Anyone else out there have a thing for the hate sex?

Woe is me

I did not get laid on my birthday and I am PISSED.

Lazy Afternoon

By the time I woke up it was already dark outside and I wandered into the living room to find J sitting at the computer working out what he wanted to gamble on for the day. For lack of a second chair in the room I sat on the floor at his side. Despite having slept away the entire day we were both still drained and he mentioned going back to bed for a nap before the football game came on at 7.

Finished with his gambling, he turned to a website for a brothel near Vegas. "R thinks we should go here when I go see him in Vegas next week," he told me as he scanned through thumbnails of girls who were currently "at the ranch" or "not at the ranch". I mentioned I found this fairly boring as I wasn't going to Vegas at all, so definitely not to the ranch. He took the hint and switched over to some short video clips on another site.

We sat watching a few until he came across a series of videos featuring two asian girls, which he knows I have a thing for. I hit him on the arm. "Asshole, why the fuck didn't you start with these? You knew this was here." He grinned without looking away from the screen. I glanced down and noticed a huge hard on poking up beneath his loose sleeping shorts and grinned myself as I reached for him and ran my hand up his thigh and inside. I stuck one little finger out and gently ran it up the length of his cock.

That was all it took for him to turn his chair to face me and pull one side of his shorts up high enough for his cock to fall out into my waiting hand. I looked up into his face and circled the head with my tongue while slowly stroking him with my hand. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, his soft moans barely audible beneath the sounds of the two asian girls eating each other out on the looped video J had left running on the screen. He reached for my head to push my mouth further down on his cock, but I decided he wasn't the boss of me just then and slapped his hands away from me. Apparently he was too tired to argue because he let his hands drop to my shoulders while I continued my hand job with bonus tongue. When I finally did take him all the way in my mouth it was enough to send him over the edge and I tasted come almost immediately.

When I had swallowed that, licked him clean, and returned him properly back inside his shorts, he reached one hand up to click off the window with the video loop, which had suddenly become somewhat annoying to listen to. I wrapped my arms around him while he pulled me to his chest with his other arm and held me there stroking my hair. "Well that was relaxing," he said. "Don't think I'll be needing that nap after all."

Wordless

I don’t wake up until you rub your cock against my face. I am groggy as I open my eyes and see you looming over me. Your body glows pale blue with the light from the street lamps. Your hand grabs the hair at the base of my neck and pulls tight. You brush your cockhead against my mouth. With this silent command I part my lips for you and you feed it to me. Your grip on my hair holds me steady for you as you fuck my mouth and throat like a pussy. Your cock is thick and long and fills my whole mouth, and I wonder vaguely about how many girls you‘ve had that never learned to deep throat and nearly choked on you. I can’t stop the tears leaking from the corners of my eyes. My eyes fly open in surprise when you yank my head back and off of you, but by the time I focus on the place you were standing, you have already moved behind me and torn the blankets away from my naked body. Your hands grip my hips and pull me to my knees and you plunge inside me so hard that my head hits the headboard. I start to put my hand up to protect my head, but it’s hardly necessary: a feel your hand close around the back of my neck as you force my head down hard into the mattress. I can’t turn my head to look at you and I can’t really breathe well with my mouth and nose pressed so hard to the bed, but I can move enough to rock back against you in time with your thrusts, and I can definitely feel the brutal slap you are administering to my cheeks. I don’t need to see them to know that they are glowing red. My fingers move to my clit and I start to rub in furious circles while you pound me faster and harder from behind. You hand has moved from my neck back to my head, and now you’re pulling my hair so hard my scalp is on fire. When I start to come you slam into me hard and then stay there, letting my pulsing cunt squeeze your cock again and again.. I haven’t even begun to catch my breath when you slide your cock out of me. You are slick with my juices now and I suddenly feel you pressing against my rosebud, testing me. I freeze in fear and think please, no, you’re way too big…but I am unable to speak. Besides it’s already too late. Not for you this teasing me into relaxing. You force the whole thing in on the first thrust as your hand clamps down on my mouth to stifle my scream. The tears have started again, but this time it’s more than just a trickle. The pain is almost unbearable and I want to push you away, but my arms have turned to lead and I am helpless to stop you. I feel your hand reach underneath me and you mercifully start to stroke my clit with your fingers. It relaxes me a little, but you’re too big for it to make much difference in the pain .Behind me I hear your breath quicken and now you’re fucking me so hard I’m genuinely afraid you’re going to rip me. An ecstatic moan escapes your lips when you come. I feel your cock pulse inside me and fill me with your hot load, which thankfully seems to sooth the pain. You pull out of me and I collapse forward sweaty and hurting and too tired to move or care. My head is swimming out of consciousness, but I think I feel your lips brush against mine, though you may have already been gone. The last thought I have before I drift back to sleep is that we never spoke a single word.

Desired

"8 o'clock sharp," complained J under his breath, glancing at the sloppy drunk two stools away from me at the bar.

Thursday had moved to Friday for the week, being that I was out of town for a few days. I had flown back to town in the late afternoon, and was tired from traveling, so I took a nap before getting dressed for the walk to the bar. It was a slow walk with me wearing high heeled boots and the sidewalks covered with fresh, slippery wet snow, and I didn't get there until about 20 after. Which was about two and a half seconds after another bar regular had managed to stumble out of her cab and into the bar, already a drunken mess. She then proceeded to engage us both in pointless meandering conversation, though she was too drunk to notice our exasperated looks at one another.

We did manage to sneak away later on (twice, once for a greedy blow job and again for a good pounding bent over the sink), but easily the hottest moment of my night was "8 o'clock sharp"; spoken not as a command or an admonishment, but in a tone of near desperation, and picturing J thinking of me while glancing at the clock repeatedly (perhaps actually worried that I wouldn't show up?) while trying not to chop up his fingers along with the lemons.

How sexy it feels to be desired like that.