I was so weak for him. We existed in pain more than pleasure; we thrived on hurt, devastation and the breaking down of sexuality to ugly and base. I hated him, I loved him. I cried, cried and cried about him. I cried when we had sex, I cried while I willing let him rape me. I cried and came at the same time. I hated how my ravenous cunt became wet every time, never connecting to the mind, my pussy works on her own.

He smelled of another woman. Mother fucker. He was child, innocent, stupid. He, I, we, did not know how to treat each other like human beings, let alone lovers. The destruction of what was pure, what was simple, what was man and woman; crashed in–like a bulldozer through a condemned building, in which the city planners forgot to notify and vacate the inhabitants.

Long after it was over– he would slink, stalk, torment my existence. I thrived on it. I thrived on being emotional fucked by this man. He had this innate ability to sense any happiness blooming within me, and would come along to cut off the supply of nutrients that allowed full bloom. He seemed to know if I was about to fuck another man, he would be there, intimidating, large, full of twisted pride.

One late night, he rang my buzzer; me—weak, always let him in. We did not speak any words, he followed me down the long hallway, I turned the shower on, hot steam filled the small bathroom. I stripped, climbed in, he followed. The heat of the water washing our depravity away.His hands consuming my flesh, my breasts filling his mouth, flipping me around, bending in half I grab the edge of the bathtub. From behind he begin to pump into my dome.Filling me, at home inside me. My pussy opening to him as I rocked onto his sleek solid dick. The heat went to my brain and my thoughts evaporated with the steam. Fucking into me harder, pounding, I–accepted with each thrust, my own thrust; pounding into one another, attempting to fuck away the pain. He could not see the tears streaming down my face. My cunt accommodating, my feet being lifted off the bottom of the porcelain, like I was being held up by the strength of his cock alone. Rabid, compromised and violently we fucked in our love and hate.

© Copyright 2009Library Vixen, All rights Reserved. Written For: Library Vixen