A Rememberence

"What does one want when one is engaged in the sexual act? That everything around you give you its utter attention, think only of you, care only for you ... every man wants to be a tyrant when he fornicates." (The Marquis de Sade)


The small cell of a room etched in the night’s dark shadows, fingers of light from the streetlamp strip out across the carpet. Faint trails of music tantalizes the ears, almost unheard, but still very present within the small confines of the room. She is on her back, naked, she bares His marks on each breast just on the pale underside-faint bruising already appearing like a badge of her love for Him, her head to the right buried into the pillow as if to silence her whimpers. He has His head buried betwixt her alabaster thighs, His black hair wild as His eyes are demented. His tongue laps hungrily at her clit, sending electric jolts coursing through her body as her eyes clenched closed tightly, fingers in a death grip upon the pillows, white knuckles. His head comes up, His chin drips and shines in the weak luminescent light of the bed room. He smacks His lips, as if He were dining upon a fine feast of a meal spread out before Him. He withdraws His soaking sticky fingers from her tight cunt, He had felt the climax as her inner walls almost seemed to suck on His fingers drawing them in even more. He grunted softly running the silky wet texture between His fingers. He loved how it felt and He loved even more that He was the creator of this within her. Her heat was at His disposal. His fingers reach up and rough dig into the soft flesh of her right breast, as He can almost see her face contort in the darkness, He grins savagely as He releases it, and crawls up her body, He takes bold rightful nips to her sides, making her squeal; He growls, silence is pertinent right now. He nips her harder this time.

Her eyes wide open, He hovers over her, head slightly bowed, His long dark black hair curling against her pale breasts, as He lent further down, into the nape of her neck, He suckles softly, almost tender and she relaxes beneath Him, perhaps even enough so that He may enter her, take her, claim her. Fuck her. Her lower back arches as if on cue to meet His swift downward thrust. His cock penetrates her, yes, she allows Him entrance as her legs tightly come up and grip His sides, she moans out His namesake. His cock quivers inside of her, alive with wanting.

All the while music randomly played in the room, caressing them, encouraging them both, as He clawed at her, bit her, loved her with all that He was. But as His cock fully entered her, her back arched up to Him, devoted to Him, she hears Him murmuring words, though she only catches glimpses of what rippled from His lips as He fucked her, claiming her. His intensity doubled, He growled, and a showing of beast flickered in those eyes of His, she was His forever now, no one could take her away from Him.

…My music…Fucking her…listening…my playing….

She only heard snippets of His words, and then again she might have not heard them at all. It did not matter-All that mattered was Him. He took His time taunting her-making her want more-but never letting her have it all at once.

His intensity increased as did His growling temperament, she felt His weight increase atop her, His right hand squeezed sharply into the soft flesh of her breasts. She knew better then to make a sound. He suddenly withdrew His rigid cock, and began to stroke it anew. A hot flash of threading liquid splattered against her bruised breasts, as He growled heatedly, lowly. He had marked her yet again…