3 comments/ 90151 views/ 8 favorites Fighting It By: BIG LIK Sharon pulled her middle finger out of her wet pussy with a moist and audible pop. The baby-soft red hair, framing her cunt, glistened wetly near the bottom end of her slit. Her post-orgasm fluids left a visible trail down the crease of her ass. She was so horny nowadays after breaking up with William, that she masturbated almost daily. The end result was always a wet spot on the bed sheets and cum-coated fingertips. She had always secreted heavily when her pussy was aroused. William had always been amazed by how wet she could become. He often told her, that her pussy felt like a man had already cum inside of her. She got THAT wet. But Sharon was quite determined to get over him. It had been 3 weeks now, and it was time to move forward. She had cried enough. Flicking herself off was okay, but Sharon was getting the urge to feel a cock penetrating her wetness. She had no toys, so her fingers had to do. Besides, nothing felt better than the heat of a real cock and that hot splash of sticky cum to the back of her cunt. Though she's heard of dildos that came close. Alas, why spend that kind of money? On occasion, she would over hear her roommate fucking her most recent boyfriend. She had even gotten good at timing her orgasms with the couple's fucking. But she always felt guilty afterwards. Something had to be done; she was going crazy with her cravings. That morning she awoke late for work. Still, she found that time to start her day off with glorious cum. With that out of the way, she finally got out of bed to get showered and dressed. She wore a short nightie to bed. She never slept in panties, so her plump ass peeked from underneath the thin material. At '5'5 and just over 200 lbs, Sharon was a big girl. But she had a small waist and big hips, so her hourglass figure was well proportioned. Her red and curled, long hair trailed to mid-back. It contrasted well with her fair skin and green eyes. Her face was lightly freckled and round, with perky rose lips. If she were 80 lbs lighter and she would be a sight. As it was, she felt she was attractive, though full-figured. Aside from her round ass, she had huge breasts. Her areolas were barely darker than her skin, with pinkish nipples protruding from them. Of course, her roomie Kirsten, was a beanpole guys lusted after nowadays. Sharon sighed quietly, and walked out of her bedroom towards the bathroom. She could feel the wetness between her legs as it cooled between her thighs, as she walked. She would have to hurry. She had no car and worked clear across town. When she passed the hallway, she saw movement near the couch. Her heart jumped because she thought she was alone. Kirsten was working so it couldn't have been anyone else. Glancing out cautiously, Sharon saw the back of someone's head above the couch. It looked like Kirsten's boyfriend Tony, from where she stood. He routinely stayed over, but usually left with Kirsten during the day. She wondered why he was still here. Just then she heard him moan. Did he even know she was home? Usually she was first to leave to catch the train. But she was far later than normal, so Tony likely had no idea she was home. A shiver ran thru her as she heard him moan again. He obviously was jerking off, judging by his head movements. Sharon had known Kirsten was on her monthly, but she at least figured she blew Tony during those times. Guess she was wrong. Sharon resisted the urge to get a closer look. Her pussy was starting to juice up again. She was getting hotter by the second, and within 6 yards of her was a cute guy stroking his cock. A minute or so listening to him moan and grunt, had turned Sharon on to no end. She had to get a quick peek. Slowly she walked behind him, until she could just glance past his shoulders into his lap. What she saw made her cunt muscles clench, causing her juices to run in a single trickle down her inner thigh. She cupped her cunt as she peered over further to get a better view of the action. She saw the purple, swollen head of Tony's cock dripping pre-cum over his fist. He was stroking his dick in a slow circular motion, making the pre-cum bead at the tip of his cock. Threatening to roll over and join the other strands that streaked his pumping fist. Tony's eyes were squeezed shut as he manipulated his extremely thick dick. It was the first thing she noticed, besides the bulbous purple head. She wondered how it fit into Kirsten's thin body at all. It had to be at least 8 inches long. He would be a snug fit for any woman. Sharon was confident she could take a dick that size in her pussy. After all, she had all the natural lubrication a gal can ask for. Speaking of which, her juices were in full flow now. In fact, the amount of lube his prick was leaking, combined with her creaming hole, would make sliding in no problem. Men loved how wet her pussy could get once they were inside. Like sinking into soft butter. Sharon and Tony's breathing both quickened, she knew he was about to cum. She was too. And it had been so long since she's had cum spaying inside of her cunt or over her tongue. She was mad with lust and a crazy thought entered her mind. Without pausing, she quietly tiptoed around in front of Tony as his hand increased its speed sliding over his cock. Sharon quickly hiked her nightie, holding the front hem tightly as she backed in, glancing over her shoulder as she watched Tony's face, to make sure his eyes wouldn't open suddenly. Careful not to bump into his legs, she opened her legs as wide as she could without losing her balance and eased over Tony's cock. Butt first. If Tony hadn't been so loud and focused into his jacking off, they both may have heard her pussy lips pop apart with a moist smack. But it went unheard as Sharon's pale, wide ass cheeks, spread wider as she was bending over from the waist. Her aim had to be true for this to work. Not to mention timing. Her mind was set to plunge her ass down over his dick, just before the down stroke of his hand. The head was huge! Purple and totally wet. It had swelled even bigger than before, and looked down right intimidating. Sharon knew he was on the brink of spilling his cum. She hoped that her pussy was wet enough to accommodate his girth. As luck would have it, just when Sharon pushed down, Tony shot a rope of cum into the air. It splashed between Sharon's opened pussy lips a split second before the head of his cock disappeared into her gooey opening. The initial spurt was launched directly into her already wet hole, followed immediately by the bulbous head. Tony's eye's popped open in surprise. All of a sudden his spraying cock was engulfed inside of a hot, wet sleeve. Sharon brought the full weight her big ass down with a loud splat into his lap in one motion. Just in time to catch the second squirt deep inside her cunt. He was balls deep when she gave a slow, twisting grind and rose off of his cock. The third spurt splashing against her ass as she lifted. His arms were still spread in disbelief and shock as Sharon quickly spun around. The fourth rope had just shot from Tony's dick when Sharon's mouth clamped around the head of his dick, to catch the last three squirts. The fourth leaving a thick trail dividing her face down her fore head. A single drop hung from the tip of her nose. Swinging back and forth as she bobbed the remaining drop out of Tony's still hard dick. Greedily, she twisted her head and cork screwed his cock with her hand. Tony had stopped cumming, but Sharon continued to work on him as she came so hard her eyes teared. When her cum subsided, her eyes open and looked directly into Tony's. His mouth was still open. Wincing as his dick became sensitive, and her sucking stopped. Saliva was connecting his spasming dick to her naturally perked lips. His cum drained down her leg from the spurt she had taken in the pussy. It must have been one hell of a wad! Embarrassed, Sharon got up quickly and rushed out of the room. Tony was left sitting on the couch with a puzzled look on his face. His cock was semi-hard and glistening from Sharon's saliva. He heard the bathroom door shut and the shower being turned on. Feeling awkward, he pulled his boxers up and hurriedly dressed. He didn't want to be there when she got out of the shower. Sharon was relieved to see Tony had left when she peeked out of the bathroom. She tried to convince herself it was all a dream and didn't happen. Kirsten was going to kill her if she found out. To Be Continued... Fighting It She wondered where these feelings came from; the feeling of wanting to rip things apart, to throw things, to break things. She could feel it, a crushing, tight sensation in her chest. Her breathing was choppy and uneven. Her hands curled into fists, the long nails digging into her palms, and she took several long, deep breaths. It didn't help. She knew he was coming over soon. She both wanted him there and wanted to be alone. She knew that she would not be able to hide the way she felt. He knew her so well. He could gauge her emotions so easily, sometimes with just a quick glance at her face. As she paced around the living room, she could feel her body heating up. Her thoughts were racing, and she was trying to sort through the myriad of emotions surging inside herself. She felt angry, frustrated, lonely, and a deep sense of not having any control over her own life. Friends made plans, then broke them. The harder she worked at her job, the busier it got. Some of her friends were married, and unavailable at a moment's notice due to family obligations. She felt at the whim of everyone else in the world, that nothing was her decision, that nothing ever happened at her desire or need. Suddenly remembering a conversation he and she had once, about a Dom ripping or cutting his sub's clothing off with a knife. It was a symbol of a new beginning, a way for her to let go of old baggage. She dashed into the bedroom and pulled out an old dress that had seen better days, the colors faded and washed out. She dug through her underwear drawer, found an old pair, and a bra. She threw off her clothes, and put the others on. She hoped he would remember the conversation when he realized what she was wearing. Just as she slid the dress over her head and smoothed it down, she heard his car drive up. She went and stood in the living room, her feet and legs bare, and tried to steady herself. She wanted so much right then; so much it was like a fever burning inside her. He came in the door, his eyes traveling over her body, finally settling on her face. She could almost hear his thoughts clicking rapidly. She watched him studying her. She knew the exact second he understood, and they stared at each other for a long moment. She felt her hands curling into fists again, her body preparing itself. "Are you sure?" he asked quietly. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Yes." She started to back away from him, suddenly unsure, but he gave her no opportunity to run. Quickly, he came across the few feet separating them, and grasped the front of the dress in his big hand. His other hand gripped her hair, and he held her there, staring into her eyes. "So, you want to fight, my little pet?" he asked her. She could only nod helplessly, his hands holding her body captive. He knew what she wanted. She wanted to kick, and claw, and scream, and vent her frustration at the world. He understood her frustration, her anger, her deep need for reassurance and love, her need to feel beautiful and desired. But underneath it all, he knew that she wanted to be shown that he was stronger than her, that he could control her. He gripped her hair tighter, and moved his mouth next to her ear. "Go ahead, girl." Her response was explosive. She tried to jerk away, her hands slapping, then wrapping around his wrist. He released her dress, and quickly bent her over, pushing her head down with the hand wrapped in her hair. He held her body against his, and smacked her ass, hard. She yelped, and struggled to get away. He spanked her ass several times, each blow with a calm, almost brutal strength. She squirmed and squealed and shoved against him. Releasing her hair, he grabbed her wrist, pinning her arm behind her. He moved her a few steps, and bent her over the living room chair. Again, he smacked her ass several times. "You can't win, pet," he said softly. It infuriated her that he was right, but it didn't stop her from trying. He continued to spank her with hard, swift strokes. She started kicking her feet and struggling harder, but it only slid her body further over the top of the chair, raising her ass up higher. His hand was like iron around her wrist. She grunted and wiggled and groaned, but it was impossible to get away from his grip. Holding her down with his upper body, his free hand slid the dress up over her hips. He took the knife he always carried out of his pocket, and flipped it open. "Hold still," he snapped. She froze, and then felt the cold steel of the blade on her thigh. He slid the knife under the panties, and cut them slightly. Returning the knife to his pocket, he ripped the panties from her. The sound of the tearing fabric was loud in the quiet room. She shuddered. Sliding his hand over her bare bottom, he relaxed his grip on her wrist. Suddenly, she raised her upper body and twisted away from him. Reaching out with his hand, he grabbed the dress and tugged her back. With both hands, he tore the dress from her shoulders, the buttons flying. He pressed her up against the wall, his muscular thigh sliding between hers. His hands molded around her breasts, squeezing them roughly. Their eyes locked. "Had enough?" he asked. She shook her head. She was panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Reaching again for the knife, he cut through the bra, the cold blade skimming over her cleavage. Pulling it away from her breasts, his hands again mauled her flesh. Her hands came up to grip his wrists, trying to pull his hands away. He pulled her body slightly away from the wall, then slammed her back against it, his big body trapping her there. Flicking his thumbs roughly across her nipples, he bent his head and began to nibble, then bite her neck. She groaned, a deep, sensual sound that made him shudder. Her head dropped back, unconsciously giving him greater access to her tender neck. He pushed his thigh up between her legs, grinding it against her pussy. She pressed down, and her hands tightened on his wrists. She shoved his hands away from her breasts, and pushed him back. Her chest was heaving, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. She hated her own body sometimes, the cravings, the deep needs she had. She didn't want to surrender to him. She was afraid of losing herself. The fear made her stronger. She wiggled out of his arms, and tried to break away. But he was faster, stronger, calmer. He merely pushed her again, forcing her face first against the wall. He grabbed both of her wrists, and pulled her arms behind her. He hoarsely whispered in her ear, "You can't win, sweetheart." Somehow the words infuriated her more. She growled deep in her chest and struggled to escape. Gripping her tightly, one hand holding both her arms, the other wrapped around her, he positioned her over the dining room table. His feet pushed her feet wider apart. He held her down, and began to spank her ass. One leg hooked over her leg, holding her steady. She sputtered and squirmed and yelled with every hard swat. "God damn it, let me go." "Not just yet," he replied. He shoved three fingers into her soaking wet cunt from behind. He finger fucked her, his arm holding her down against the table. Her naked breasts were squashed against the wood. He fucked her so deep and hard it pushed her up on the table, her feet lifting off the floor. Relentlessly he continued driving his thick fingers in and out. They were dripping wet with her juices. Grunting and groaning, she thrashed on the table. His weight and greater strength kept her there. She screamed and tried to lift her upper body up. He simply pressed against her harder. He pulled his fingers out and smacked her ass hard, then rammed them back inside her. "Whose cunt is this, my dear?" he barked. "It's mine!" she yelled. "No, pet, it's not," he replied harshly. He continued the sensual assault on her cunt, fingertips stroking against the smooth walls again and again. He twisted his fingers, and pressed upwards against her Gspot, making her groan louder. Finally the fingers in her cunt communicated past her anger and frustration. She was lost. She sobbed, and began to move her hips towards his fingers. Her cunt gripped them tightly, never wanting to let them go. He slowed the attack on her dripping pussy, and began fucking her in long, smooth strokes of his fingers. She spread her legs wider apart. Loosening his hand on her wrists, he leaned down and spoke quietly into her ear. "I'll ask you one more time. Whose sweet, wet, juicy cunt is this?" She groaned again, and her hips moved to meet his thrusts. He knew what it would cost her to say the words. He knew the battle that waged within her. Having been beaten down by a cruel, heartless man in the past, both physically and emotionally, she cherished her independence, her inner strength, her ability to handle life alone. He slowly, gently penetrated her with his fingers, over and over. Tears sliding down her cheeks, she gave in to her need for this man. She rocked her hips back against him. She said the one word she had come to almost hate. "Yours." He leaned down and kissed her shoulder and neck and positioned himself between her legs. Releasing himself from his jeans, he replaced his fingers with his rock hard cock. Her hands gripped the edge of the table, and she moved with him. Slowly he fucked her, his big hands settling on her hips, pulling her back against him. She felt like she couldn't get close enough. She moaned and whimpered, trying to move backwards, to take him deeper into her body. The fingers of his right hand slid down to her throbbing clit, and he rubbed it hard and fast. She exploded under him, her body convulsing and her pussy clenching around him. The orgasm seemed endless. When it subsided, her body trembling and quivering beneath him, he took her for his own pleasure. Slamming into her again, his hands bruised her hips as he pulled her onto his cock. A few savage strokes later, he found his own release, bellowing as he did. She felt every pump of his strong cock as he filled her. When his vision cleared, and his body stopped shaking, he pulled out of her and turned her around. Carrying her to bed, he lay her down and stripped quickly. Stretching out beside her, pulling her into his arms, he held her against his warm chest, their legs tangling up together. He kissed the last traces of her tears away. He rocked her gently as he waited for her to calm down. They had done this before, and he knew she needed time to let the emotions cool down. But he was a patient man. He smiled and simply waited. Fighting It by Cathy O'Niel copyright 2006