I had seen Hank several more times and last weekend we were due for another round.
It was late and all I did was throw a dress over myself. No bra, no knickers. Was I getting slack? It was as if I was sneaking out to fetch the paper in my robe.
When I arrived at Hank’s he poured me a glass of red. Before I had a chance to sit down he pushed my dress up and looked at my ass, stroking it.
Mmmm. No panties
We kissed, briefly.
He took off my dress and led me to the bedroom. By this stage he was already naked and he tossed me onto the bed. We just started at it. No real foreplay, nothing to make the juices flow. He was confident I would be ready to go. Any time I got my mouth or face anywhere near his body he pulled my head back by my hair but this time he added something extra: he’d slap my face. Hard. He also restrained me physically so that most of the time I couldn’t move.
you be a good girl now.
you like my cock? That’s right, be a good girl now.
It hurt. A little and sometimes a lot. I was willing to go as far as I could though. At one stage he pulled my hair so hard I felt my neck pop, I was going to pay for that. I gave him two taps and he released me.
Afterward, we had a cigarette in his back yard. I had a few questions:
You seem very detached. I’m curious, mostly by now, even men have assigned some sort of emotional value to these encounters.
But he fired right back.
You seem to not care either way is that so?
Well, you seem pretty detached.
And he was right. I was. Like Marvin the week before I saw my own behavior reflected back and perhaps my curiosity came from trying to understand what that was exactly. Not that I wanted to know the answer, it was just the first time I’d bothered to ask the question.
After that we had sex again and it was gentle and intimate.
See? We can do it without hitting.
Still, we weren’t 5 minutes done before I left. Nothing against Hank, it was just time to leave.
But I guess that’s what we all say.