Grind (ENGLISH)

Sheets

The image of their two bodies touchingand rubbing each other didn't leave his mind, continuing to haunt him whenever he closed his eyes.

He found himself every evening thinking about her, about her soft curves, her pale breasts, her blue eyes that looked at him with such desire, how she grindnd herself on him.

Those lips that looked like a rose, no one knew how much he wanted to feel them on his skin.

He imagined them running up his neck, passing through the collarbones and chest, until they descend and open up for his member.

She would be such a good girl for him, he knew she would.

He could only dream of squeezing those fleshy and toned thighs in his fingers, making her moan in pain, making her squirm uncomfortably.

He would feel the terror in her eyes as he forcefully forced her to stand still, her face buried in the pillows, as he vehemently spanked her repeatedly. She would have screamed him in a muffled voice to stop, telling him it was hurting her, but he would only stop at the sight of bruises, or even better, blood.

No... he had to go further.

He wanted to go further.

He wanted to squeeze that slender neck between his fingers, to see her sky-colored eyes roll back, her beautiful face writhing in desperate grimaces, trying in vain to gasp for some air, while her skin became bluish and her lips lost their natural tint.

He wanted to see his manly sex covered in that whore's blood as she gasped and begged for mercy, pleading him with desperate sobs.

He wanted to violate her in every possible way, corrupting her to the core, taking her and destroying her: tear her into pieces.

He wanted to feel the pillow wet with her tears and moods.

He wanted to see the all sheets from white to red, covered in her blood, when he turned to find her standing still, cold and stained with purple spots.

He wanted to make her suffer and he wanted to disfigure her, marking her as he could.

He wanted to make her his property.

He grunted at the very thought that he could defile her like that: he wanted to destroy her so fucking bad.

The pants were too tight in that moment, he had to open the flap to get a minimum of relief and sighed feeling freer.

Here she was coming back to haunt him, dancing in that way and talking to him with so much presumption.

Enraged, he grabbed his member and squeezed it violently in his hand. He began to move it quickly, using all the anger in his body.

He was mad.

He was furious because now she persecuted him, followed him everywhere: all these years he hadn't had any weaknesses, not even in women, because he was too busy, but now... now a simple slut could distract him to such an extent; she was making him so weak.

He couldn't accept it.

He had to take her and make her his property, he had to make her pay for what she had done.

That bitch would certainly regret it.

He could already see her, crying and screaming, with her face all swollen and puffy, her sex numb and bleeding, as she begged him to stop, not to kill her.

He felt himself getting closer to orgasm.

He imagined breaking all of her bones, starting by her toes.

That creature would be writhing and wriggling, hoping to escape, barking desperately due to the too much pain. She would scream so loud that her vocal cords would break, then he would bite off her tongue and she would scream even louder. She would have a hard time breathing through her broken nose and would have to spit continuously, because of all the blood that covered her face and entered into her mouth. Her lips would be parted after all the beatings, torn and swollen, and she would never be able to say a word ever again. The swollen cheekbones would have been so enlarged that they forced the partial closing of the eyes and the split eyebrows would have finished the job gloriously.

The image that unfolded in front of his eyes was too much to handle and he could no longer hold back, ending up coming, accompanied only by a long, held moan.

Lying on his back on the bed he was on, Diavolo caught his breath, panting slightly: he had let himself go too far, he had to think more calmly.

Soon Risotto Nero would take that woman and in a short time and, from that moment, he could do everything to her, so he didn't have to worry.

He smiled wickedly as he thought of what he would do to her.

She would never be able to see the sunlight again; it was the punishment she deserved.

He closed his eyes for a moment and, when he opened them again, Doppio woke up slightly confused, with his usual headache.