They were familiar about a year: a kind of term. Their relationship was difficult to classify unambiguously: it was not love;No attraction and nor passion: they had several points of contact: computers and: sex. Perhaps she could admit that he was the best lover in her life, although, as well as a friend, too:
They met on the Internet, which, in principle, is corny in our time. She was married, and he: she still could not figure out the cunning plexuses of his many lovers, friends, wives. Yes, this did not bother her: her husband often went on business trips, she could not sleep at night: coffee, a cat in his legs and a computer. So the acquaintance began. Initially, she did not even have a thought about treason. Let life not so suit you, but she loved her husband, and I wanted to be honest until the end. Just met, talked, drank coffee, parted. The conversation was about nothing and about everything: books, computers, cars: a week later we agreed to meet in the museum. Bad luck. It was a closed day. He invited her to his coffee. She did not want. I probably felt. Or I wanted, but I was afraid. We sat, talked. He began to kiss her, she replied: but then she began to resist. He tied her to the bed and caressed it almost to loss of consciousness.
What could be regret. If this is what was so missing. The fact is that 4 years ago she was carried away by BDSM. The wrong word was carried away. It was an addiction. Drug. The truth is said that they do not leave from there. Especially after she experienced an orgasm from pain. Masochist) well, let. Then she fell into concrete dependence, moral, from her dominant. There was no sex, but he was not needed. Humiliation, submission a little and a lot of pain. Then she wore only closed clothes, because the whole body was covered with bruises, abrasions, stripes from a belt. She finished from the fact that she was associated, from what was poured, from what was beaten on the nipples. In fact, it was anyway even if they turned the inside out. She rushed in the middle of the night on his first call to kiss his legs, lick her fingers, suck his cock, occasionally substitute his ass and beat in hysterics and end simultaneously from humiliation and ask for more pains.
Then she decided to finish this madness, left, and on the way back home she met her husband. There was crazy sex and it seemed to her that it was it, something that everyone wants so. But this night is probably the best for all the time of life together. The husband did not accept only standard sex, but he compensated to fully in real life, prohibiting almost everything and commanding. Moral dominant: Boring)
Let’s get back to him. He just felt a woman needed. Not that he needed to dominate. Rather, he just knew what she needed. And she flowed and finished, like the last bitch and all thoughts about her husband just left. Then there was sex. Normal, rough sex. His member was great for her and constantly fought into the uterus, which caused pain that I did not want to get rid of.
Having left home, she decided that there would be no more such meetings. And again there was communication on the Internet. About everything, a lot and a long.
Relations with my husband did not work out. They parted. For a long time she was depressed and did not want to see anyone. I was afraid to look in the eyes. Not to mention sex. And he became the first with whom she spent the night. True, tears strangled her in the morning. From some dumb hopelessness. And he reassured. Depression left. She was returning to life. Became a normal red bitch with green eyes, scattering men to the right and left. And I understood that no one meets her in bed. In bed they rarely met. And usually in the morning a satisfied smile did not leave the face and a whore in the eyes. This sex was so because physiology. Fuck a lot, for a long time. Only he brought her to such a state of madness. Usually he caressed her for about half an hour, until she began to beg him to leave her clitoris alone. And then it was careful as where and how much. This was not an attraction to a person as such, but to his actions in bed.
And then she asked him to hurt her. He asked if she allows him everything. She nodded. He did not beat her or bind her. She wouldn’t refuse. At first there were doubts, and then they left finally. He caressed her. And then squeezing a lot of cream on her crotch, smeared it along it and began to enter one finger into the vagina first, then the second, third. She realized that he wants to introduce his whole hand. There was a desire to finish this. But his interested look stopped her. And the first orgasm knocked out all thoughts from his head. He introduced his palm, and then all his hand. She began to tear out but a series of orgasms and his resistance stopped her. His whole hand and wrist were in her. She rushed around the bed, not understanding what was happening. He began to introduce his cock into her ass, she asked not to do this. And he said that he wanted to deeply and over the entire length. She whispered that she was painful. And he continued to fuck her. She began to tear out, he hit her. Then he took a candle and began to water her nipples with wax, clitoris. Then he turned over on his stomach and I do not take out his hands from her roughly fucked in the ass. She just whined under him in pain and at the same time from pleasure. Then she could not get out of bed. They sat and smoked, talked. Then they fucked again, and smoked again. And the next day, she realized that she could not live without him. What she wants and is ready to wallow in his feet if only he fucks her. It was a permanent desire for sex. Again addiction. She wanted him to beat her, bit, cut, if only he would do it.
I just can’t live without him …I have a roof.
P.WITH. Continued and if there is a desire to write.
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