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Brett wonders if he should reveal his best friend's cheating.

Or rather, what I want you to do to me. Shall I tell you then? Do you want me to describe it to you in detail? Do you want to hear the crux of my fantasy weekend with you? Should I decide to let that last guard down? I suppose I should as I'm sure you have already guessed.

In my fantasy, it is you who calls the shots. It isn't me who lets you know what I want. It is you who puts your hands in my hair and leans down to kiss me. Your grip is strong and sure. You push your body against mine and I feel the heat of you. My legs go weak at the thought of what is to come. Without breaking your lips from mine, you lower your hands from my hair and put them beneath my sweater, caressing the smooth skin of my back. I moan into your hungry mouth and press myself harder against you. You deftly unhook my bra and lift everything off over my head. You tilt me backwards in your arms, as you lean forward to lap and suckle at my breasts. You are hungry for me, the likes I've never experienced before. I think that a part of you wants to devour me, and take me into yourself. Your actions are hard and full of need. None of it is about how it makes me feel, I am only here to serve your desire. I could have no conscious mind for all the difference it would make. You want my flesh and my lips, you want my arms and my nails, you want my body to sheath yours, and as far as you are concerned I could be a doll.

Yes that's it. Treat me as you would a doll.

You throw me onto the bed with indifference and tear my clothes off as if they were made of some substandard fabric. You pin my arms above my head and shove your way between my legs to get at the place you desire. I'm not quite ready for you but that doesn't stop you from breaking your way in. Pain and pleasure combine and I scream out. I use my body's skills, to make it better, to make me tighter, to make you enjoy it more, but you barely notice. In and out: thrusting over and over. I can feel your size the length of me and it makes me squeal, your width stretching me more than ever before. The pain is forgotten amidst the joy of this sensation. I am a flood easing your way into me, and every nerve in my body screams out for you to touch it, but I know you won't. You lie on top of me and unceremoniously pump away. It is perfect. Without warning you descend again to my breasts and chew and lick and gnaw at them as if they were fruit. My nipples become raw and much to sensitive for you to continue, but I hold your head there with my hands refusing to let you stop. I wrap my legs around your hips and arch my back into you as I climax more quickly than I ever have. I moan and my arms flail wildly trying to gain purchase on something, anything. But you are not done with me, my climax was not meant for my pleasure but was a by product of your stamina.

As I try to catch my breath you flip me over onto my stomach, push my knees apart and up with your own. You nudge yourself closer to there. I don't resist; I want to, but I will allow this from you. I always do. How can I say no to you? No preparation, no warning, just in, and hard. I burry my head in the pillow and scream in real pain. But the pain is so sweet, and you know this. You know how much I love this. How much I need this. I never told you, but you know. Your one act of selflessness in this whole passionless escapade, is to slow down slightly and let me get used to you. You lean forward and bite the back of my neck. Your hand snakes its way around me and your fingers pinch my clit. I become delirious. I don't know what to do with my body. All I can do is moan out the word "Ow," but it means yes. Your pace quickens and it is the strangest feeling in the world. I love it and I hate it. The pain is so searing that it makes me climax again, and I don't even realise.

All I am is a vessel of pleasure, for yours and mine.

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