Lust and Carnage

Yeah, you wanted this.

A gratuitous hedonistic break from all the shit… a desperate sprint toward oblivion of the flesh. You wanted this. Your insides screamed so loud for exactly this. Lust and carnage.

You all but snarled when the scent first caught you. My scent, my proximity. So close now, you could taste my sweet breath. It tasted like raw, unrefined sex. Like fucking, just to breathe. Your body morphed, adapted to this, a fighter’s form. A battle stance. Hellbent on exacting and inflicting as much pleasure as inhumanly possible, take on all cummers!

I picked this fuck-fight. I knocked that chip off your shoulder with my cock and dared you, taunted you, felt you and violated you. I pushed you around with threats of thrusts, and quivering. Hurling invectives of bit nips and wet cunt. And as you cowered, I asked what you were going to do about it? If you want this, whore, here I am! Come take it!

Yeah, you wanted this.

Your onslaught of my body was both tactical and opportunistic. You were a warrior of my creation, trained without a sense of mercy. When you climbed me, you violated yourself with my cock, I was no longer a foil or even a person. I was a tool. A means to an end. And that end is mutually assured destruction. When you do cum, there is a blast radius.

After your wild assault, I take my ground back. I drive in, I bring both pleasure and pain. I leave marks and you laugh at each one. Daring me. Pushing me. Harder. You fucking pussy, is that all you got? It wasn’t. I had more. You laughed again, because it was fucking perfect. Perfect.

Yeah, you wanted this… so did I.

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