Ever had a rough day at work? No matter how calm or positive of a person we are, there will be days that we become angry. Frustrated. I enjoy the sensual, romantic and love making sessions W and I have. But there is something special and noteworthy about angry sex.
There doesn’t need to be words. No foreplay. No “getting in the mood”. You just are. It is primal. It is forceful and crosses the nexus of pleasure and pain. The “this hurts so good” kind of thing. W has these incredibly muscular arms. He flexes and all I want to do is bite the hell out of his biceps. My nails frequently dig into his back. My mind completely numb to whether I am exhibiting too much force.
His cock just throbs inside me. His balls slap my pussy into another orgasm just on their own. His hand around my neck. My nails into his bicep. I am awakened. We are connected. There is nothing but need. My only words are “more”. More.
My hips rise and angle to meet his pelvis and allow his cock to dive deeper. Harder. My mind is blank once again and all I know, all I feel is the rhythm of his hips. His thrusts. My pussy is monsterously wet. I orgasm over and over like the tide crashing into the rocks.
Once we are both released, we lay next to each other content. Satisfied. We are deeply connected. We are in tune. No one knows the strength of our committment and devotion. My body and heart belong completely to him. Sometimes the animals have to be free to be animals. Sometimes pain does equal pleasure. So, I am definitely a fan of angry sex. What about you?
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