Chapter 9

[vibe track: river - bishop briggs]

Cameron could feel his dick rubbing against her slit.

Why the fuck is he taking so long.

She turned her head, sending him a glare as she bent over in front of him in her room. He had probably 100 pounds on her, all muscle, some guy she’d connected with on Tinder. She thought his name was Jorge, but she wouldn’t swear to it.

“Fuck me goddammit!” Cameron growled out the command, but knew he wasn’t going to hear her over the pounding music, not even at point-blank range. He seemed to get the message though and she felt his latex-covered tip start to press into her. She wasn’t very wet, but she didn’t care.

He was big, and she grimaced as he pushed inside her, a little too gently for her liking. She worked herself back into him to try and get him to just fucking shove it in already.

Finally he did, slamming it in the last few inches, making her grunt at the sudden feeling of his cock stretching her out. She nearly fell over, saved only by the wall right in front of her.

She couldn’t feel where he ended inside her — she was still trying to adjust to his size when he took her hips and started thrusting in earnest. She let out another groan that no one but her would know she’d made.

Her whole body tensed from her jaw to her toes, steeling against the cock that felt like it was still growing with every thrust. He was picking up his pace, not even close to as fast as the song that was thumping in her ears, but his dick was sliding into her more easily now as he got a head of steam going.

It hurt — and she focused on that feeling, like she was being ripped apart inside every time he rammed deeper into her.

Cameron’s groans didn’t make any noise, they were just open-mouthed screams, and he got into a rhythm — finally — pounding into her harder and harder. His fingers dug into her narrow hips, painting bruises in real time.

Without warning he slapped her ass, making her yelp and then moan — long and deep from somewhere primal inside her.

“Harder! Fuckkk — harder!”

Maybe he heard her, maybe he didn’t. Either way, he answered by throwing himself into her, his chin almost to her spine, and moved his hands up from her hips to her bare ribs. She could feel the pressure from his fingertips on her bones as he gripped tighter, pulling her body into him as he shoved his cock forward again and again and again.

His tempo was matching the music now, so fast, so hard that she could barely feel each thrust — just the throbbing soreness inside her interrupted by the sharp pain of his cock tearing into her.

It was exactly what she wanted.

“Yeessss, YESSSSS! FUCKKK! FASTER!” she screamed, more out of satisfaction than pleasure. This wasn’t about pleasure.

He was getting close now, she could feel it. Underneath the pulsing music, she could hear his long, sustained grunts as he kept it up, close to exploding.

She felt his sweat dripping onto her own, pooling in the small of her back as he yanked her into him. Her body was nothing in his hands. He could’ve thrown her across the room if she’d let him.

As he found another gear, she knew this was it.

Fucking bring it, fuck me you fucking pussy. FUCK ME.

Everything that had been numb emerged into sharp focus — his cock too deep, too big. Her entire body gritted, trying to accommodate the pole she’d demanded impale her over and over.

All at once, he reached up and grabbed her throat, squeezing in time with his thrusts. Cameron’s breaths came shallow as she gasped for air, and she felt him bend over her back and groan — loud and long. She jerked and growled involuntarily as his grip on her throat tightened and he emptied into the condom inside her.

FUCKKK YESSSSSSSSSSS.

She couldn’t say it out loud. She couldn’t say anything. She couldn’t breathe — only try to gulp for air that wouldn’t make it past the vise around her neck.

His iron grip squeezed her throat as hard as he could while he spasmed again inside her, and the black edges of her vision closed in, her lungs dry-heaving for air that wouldn’t come. Her body tingled all over and she felt adrenaline pumping through her, warning that she was about to lose consciousness.

So ... closssseeeeee...

Then the world shook, her eyes fluttering open and closed, and she let go of everything that had been building inside, surrendering into a full-body orgasm that shuddered to her toes.

Cameron’s knees buckled and she tried to catch herself as he let her go, but her body didn’t respond. Her teeth bit into her tongue as her chin rebounded on the carpet, but she barely felt it over a pain that made her want to scream when she felt his cock rip its way back out of her tight hole.

But she couldn’t scream. She couldn’t make any sounds at all. All that came out were coughs and sputters. She didn’t do much to help her lungs as they gasped and gulped for every bit of air they could get. She didn’t particularly care.

With every rasping wheeze, the air they inhaled was as filthy as the carpet, tasting of sweat and stale cigarette smoke and weeks-old alcohol wafting from so many untold corners of the apartment.

The music was just as loud, but the buzzing pressure in her head had started to recede and she felt like she could hear herself again. She just didn’t have anything to say that she wanted to hear.

I don’t feel better.

Cameron lay there on the carpet, all the pain she’d put off feeling now dully throbbing through her, the bruises beginning to form on her hips and her ribs, a radiating soreness between her legs.

As the music lulled for a moment, she heard the snap of the condom from behind her as Jorge, or whoever he was, took it off and tossed it into the trash. She hoped it landed in the trashcan, anyway.

Her breathing was still ragged as she looked up at the dented door in front of her, pocked with evidence of years of her tantrums and frustrations. A dim glow leaked in from underneath it.

This usually clears my head. It’s usually all I need.