Smut Marathon R7: know when to hold ‘em

I wanted to say one or two things about the last round. It was a knock out round in that previous points didn’t matter. You had to write your best or be knocked out.

Some people thrive under pressure. Me? I turn into a crazy person. Don’t want to try too hard or it’ll show. Is there enough sex? Does it make sense? Why am I hating everything I wrote??

I was in the midst of a really bad bout of writer’s block. I felt it coming on, literally creeping up and messing with my ability to write. Round 6 had produced less than stellar results so I was stressing out majorly.

When the voting round started, I was in full on meltdown mode. Avoiding reading the other entries because it produced a fear response, anxiety that bordered on panic. Crazy town.

I was given a task to cope and it helped a lot. It’s a task I’ll do for the next voting round because I imagine I’ll be in the same boat mentally.

The voting round ended with me finishing about where I had overall. Yay! Honestly though, every round is/has been a struggle and I imagine it’ll continue to be until I’m bumped out. I hope my writing is getting better overall. My emotional self/confidence still needs a little work, but you can work on things you’re aware of, can’t you?

The prompts are getting harder and this one for round 8 is difficult in ways I hadn’t anticipated. We’ll persevere though, won’t we?

Anyway, instead of sharing my piece (number 11 if you want to read it), I’ll share the one I wrote that didn’t make the cut for a whole lot of reasons. It’s only had the barest of edits so keep that in mind.

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My body aches from the last time you hurt me and it takes everything I have to come back one more time.

I’m not ready to leave you quite yet. The way you look up at me in this moment, the bright blue of your irises swallowed up by dilated black pupils, makes coming back worth it. You’re begging me with those eyes, asking for things you’re not going to get.

The way your hair slides through my fingers stirs many of those loving feelings I thought gone. The wind ruffles it as I stroke, whipping it around your face. The first time I saw you at that concert, it was the way the wind ruffled your hair that sparked something in my gut.

I tug on those strands now. Harder and harder until tears form in the corners of your eyes. Two crystal drops slide down your cheeks and I’m transported to the moment things changed with us.

The night you changed.

You followed me to the bar and watched as I laughed with the girls, seething because I wasn’t with you. A guy tried to buy me a drink, but I turned it down. You didn’t hear me tell him I had a boyfriend all you saw was my polite smile and the way he touched my back.

The grip of your hand on my arm as you drug me home tore me up. You hit me then, for the first time, and then you apologized. You told me if I just made you happy you’d never hurt me again. It was one of many lies you told.

I’m transported back to this moment. Kissing your lips, nibbling at your neck, letting my fingertips tease as they walk down your bare chest. I know what you like and wield that knowledge now.

As my mouth finds your cock, your head falls back against the tree trunk. That dull thunk makes me smile. I suckle the head, letting my tongue tease the tip and along the frenulum. I won’t stop until you’re jerking your hips. When you do, I swallow your cock down. I let you watch me gag, lifting my eyes so you can see me cry. I can feel tears and mascara paint my cheeks, a flare of tortured pleasure filling your eyes as our gazes hold.

I release you with a gasp, saliva clinging from my lower lip to your cock. I enjoy your muffled moan as I swallow you again. God, the taste of you excites me, my thighs growing wetter with each suck. I could get lost in this, just like you taught me.

The cawing of a bird draws me out of my frantic sucking. It’s growing darker, the sky turning a little more overcast. A sense of urgency seems to overtake us both as I realize I our time is growing short.

I lift up, my knees digging into the hard ground as I shift up your body. The wind is intensifying, snatching at my hair and the red negligee I have on.

You mumble something, but I don’t hear it over the wind and your gagged mouth. I position myself over you, lining your cock up with my cunt. I watch your eyes round, your body straining against the ropes binding you, as I hilt myself on you.

This is where it’s finally all about me. All the times in the past you’d fuck me, your cock a piston intent on your pleasure and me a hole to receive. This was where I got a little something for me. A little something before we part ways.

I let my hips grind down hard. My movements less lifting and more rocking, my clit free to rub on your pelvis. I dig my nails into your shoulder, enjoying your groan as I hurt you. I feel the way your skin parts under the pressure, and revel in it.

My orgasm sneaks up on me, the spasms stealing my sight for many long moments. The swollen skies open up at the same time, bathing us both in warm summer rain.

You remain erect inside me. I’ve always loved that about you, your ability to stay hard for hours. I wish I could fuck you again, but our time has to end.

Your eyes are frantic with the knowledge that I’m leaving you.

It doesn’t stop either of us from groaning as I lift myself from your lap. All the times you’ve hurt me, emotionally and physically, overwhelm me as I stand over you.

You said you’d kill me if I ever left you. This was the only way to make sure you never hurt me again.