Angry Fuck

Mr. Wrong has pushed me one too many times. Yesterday I needed a good, hard pounding to fuck away my anger at him. Craigslist came through for me when an old buddy answered my post, "Angry Fuck."

He walked in to my foyer, dropped his hat to the floor and lifted my skirt, the way we always begin. I was wearing no panties, and his fingers quickly found their way to my hot spot. I gushed over his hand within a minute, worrying briefly about the new carpet below.

I dragged him to my bedroom, just steps away, sat on the bed and watched him remove his clothes. He was huge and hard already, as I expected. Stepping close to me, he took his cock in his hand and guided it toward my open mouth. I was so ready for what I knew was to come – so fucking ready.

He allowed me to start slowly, taking just the head in my mouth as I massaged his balls. With ever deeper draws, I eventually took him in entirely, my nose and face pressed tight against his lean belly. He rocked there, pushing against the back of my throat. Tears spilled from my eyes and I could hear the sloppy sounds of my spit with each stroke.

We didn't have long. As much as I'd have liked taking my time with him, a "bing" from my phone told me that my friend was on his way over for dinner. We had maybe half an hour.

"Turn around," he said, lifting my skirt and pushing me roughly back on the bed. I assented, taking off my shirt and bra before moving to all fours, arching my back and offering myself to him. His fingers found me again, first one, then two, three, four and finally his whole fist.

"All the way," I said, pressing back against his fist, needing him to find his way beyond the tight spot and in deeply, where I could relish the fullness. I felt myself squirt again over his hand. As he kneaded me there, his other hand came around and pinched my nipple hard, sending me even further into the delicious loss of thought I was craving.

He withdrew his hand and reached for the huge toy he had brought me a couple of years ago. I heard the snap of the tube of lube and then felt the toy enter my pussy, filling me with its size and intensity. I heard from afar the rustle of the condom wrapper as he opened it.

"Is it in there now, baby? Can you feel it?"

"Oh, yeah."

As his cock entered my ass, joining the toy to fill me completely, I succumbed to the intensity of the pressure, and felt my anger and frustration with Mr. Wrong melt away.

"Fuck me."

His balls sloshed and slapped against me as he pounded my ass, as deeply as he could, fucking away the intensity of the day. Mr. Wrong had let me down once again, and I was – am – ready to let him go once and for all. This first proper fuck since last seeing him in June was cementing my resolve.

"Don't waste it in a condom," I said as I felt him getting close. "I want to taste you."

"You ready to drink my cum?"

"So ready."

He briefly went to the bathroom to clean up, before returning to me.

"On your knees." He had grown softer and, on the floor before him, I took him in my mouth yet again, feeling him grow there on my tongue and palate. His cock now hard and pulsing, he grabbed my head from behind and plunged in and out of my waiting mouth again and again. I felt him quiver as he grew close, grunting.

"You ready for this, baby?" I was so ready. He was still holding my hair with one hand as he stroked his slick cock rapidly before me, then came hard on my face and open mouth. I laughed and then did as he'd asked earlier: kissed him so he could taste his own cum.

"You're friend's gonna find you with sticky cum all over your face," he laughed. "You've got some cleaning up to do." I surveyed the room – discarded toy on the floor, condom wrapper, scattered clothes and wet sheets. Not to mention the drying stickiness on my face and tits.

"Gotta go," he said, quickly dressing and heading for the door. He'd never even made it to my living room and I hadn't offered him so much as a glass of water, just myself.

My friend rang my bell just five or so minutes later, as I was rinsing off the toy. I had it in my hand when he rang, but discreetly tucked it in my bureau drawer before opening the door to this second visitor in an hour.

Republished with permission from Liz Doherty. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo by John B. Root.