His Fingers Twisted My Nipples Until I Was Fucking Him Desperately

His touches came as intense tingles; they were the merest hints of contact. It was an anticipation that hung between the tiny touch­es and drove my desire for more. For some reason it flicked me into high gear almost immediately.

He played with my libido. He revved it one moment and let it die down the next. His knowledge of my body's sensitivity gave him scope to play with me: the nipple tweaks distracted me from orgasm, and crushing my clit with the vibe did the same. As intense as it was I didn't come. I was left extremely horny.

I was grateful to have his extremely hard cock in my cunt. He whispered to me that he would hurt me. I said "Bring it." And he did. He took me right back to the previous level of intensity. It was delicious. The fucking kept escalating, and he did with his body what the vibrator hadn't been able to do: he made me come hard, and he took me right out of my head.

Tonight I discovered exactly why I have always loved rough sex. The harder his cock presses against my g-spot the better it feels. The more it hurts the better it is. That's why fingering is good – but not quite as good as fucking. He pulled my body down onto his and fucked me hard. His cock rubbed my g-spot and made me come, and I shuddered until the orgasm was finished.

His hands wandered to my hair, nipples, throat and hips. Gripping me in whatever suited him he controlled me totally. His fingers twisted my nipples until I was fucking him desperately. My mouth was muffled by his palm and my nipple was gripped between his fingers, and as his fingers contracted my body echoed the twisting of my nipple because my voice couldn't. And when he released it, all I wanted was for the other nipple to match.

Then he said "Stop." I was so close to orgasm. "Pinch your nipple to an eight and you can move again." I wanted to give up right then. I struggle to do a four or five to myself; eight seemed impossible. He grabbed my hand to help me do it, and it peaked at an intense six. Thank fuck he didn't ask me what the level was before he got me to start fucking him again.

I should have realised that he knew. I should have realised he would still sate that desire to really hurt me. "Make no sound," he said, "Be totally quiet," as he placed his fingers around my nipples. He quickly ramped it up. I tried to keep the sound inside, but my screams came out as whimpers as he squeezed and then twisted cruelly. Eight? It was nine plus. Was it approaching ten? At what point would I have safeworded?

Then he cuddled me close, telling me I was a good girl, over and over. I needed to hear that because when the whimpers escaped I felt I had failed. I hadn't been able to stay totally silent.

Making me come again was almost trivial after that, especially when he rubbed his cock head over my cervix. The pain had a matching pleasure, and I asked him for more and more. I remember saying "It hurts, it feels good, it hurts, it feels good…" It was a deep dive into my kind of pleasure.

Republished with permission from SapioSlut. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo courtesy of Device Bondage.