Fucking you was like fighting you.
The way you pinned me as I wriggled, the way you shafted into me as I bucked, we were trying to disprove the unlikeliness of our union but had no other language than bite, slap, spit and fuck. God knows it turned me on, to fight you to orgasm. Trying to deny the wet need of my cunt that ached to feel you fingers and cock thrusting clumsily into me.
I spasmed close around you and soaked the spare bed, you thought it was finesse you’d never have. I knew it was lust’s perversion.