Ana’s cry in shock was like an erotic song to my ears. Giving her a moment to tell me no, I pulled my hand back again and just stared at the perfectly red handprint that covered her luscious cheek. Fuck. I landed another blow and was met with another cry. I repeated the process with her other cheek until they each glowed a deep red and she desperately whimpered into the couch cushion, rolling her hips back to accept more.
“I’m going to fuck you now. You want that?” I asked as I reached into my wallet to extract a condom. Her muffled response wasn’t enough and I asked again. “You want me to fuck you, Ana?”
She turned her face and glared at me from the side of her eye. “You can try,” she muttered and bucked back, giving one last effort to fight me off.
I laughed. Laughed because that was my Ana, always challenging me and never giving in. Laughed at how easy it was to shove her chest to the cushions and wrap an arm around her waist, lifting her sweet pussy to the perfect spot where I could shove my dick inside her on the first go.
Her ass wiggled, trying to dislodge me when I pulled back, almost succeeding, but I gripped her hip hard and rammed myself back into her. I repeated the process slowly and then fast, but always hard and always as deep as I could get her to take me. Her warmth was like coming home. Her cries, barely audible from where her face was buried in the couch, were like my anthem. It filled my soul and made me feel like a man. The clench of her pussy dragging against my shaft was my anchor to remind me of who I was, even outside of the savage I only let free with her.
Electricity sparked its way down my spine, straight to my balls, begging to be let loose. But I wanted to make her come, and I knew she was close, her cries coming closer together.
“Come, Ana. I know you fucking want it,” I growled. Her head shook in denial, but I kept pushing. “Don’t deny me. I can feel your wetness dripping out of you, coating my balls. Such a slut.”
I risked coming and picked up the pace with quick hard thrusts. I could feel the vibrations of her moans coming through her back. I kept pounding into her until her ass arched up so high, I thought I would slip out. Her hands gripped the arm of the couch so tightly, her knuckles turned white.
“Give it to me, Ana. It’s my orgasm and I want it.” Her thighs trembled on each side of me, and I glued my eyes to the way my dick looked pulling out of her, covered in her wetness. “So wet,” I muttered. Leaning down, I covered her back with my chest and growled into her ear, “Only a whore would get so wet from being pinned down against her mercy and fucked.”
Tight spasms squeezed my dick, almost shoving me out. Wanting to hear her orgasm, I loosened my grip on her back so she could lift her face as she came. She didn’t disappoint, her orgasm ripped through her as she screamed out her release. It was more than I could handle. I let go in an endless stream of shocks pouring from my dick into the condom. My vision blurred and all my senses were zeroed in to the way my cock felt being squeezed by Ana’s tight pussy.
Once my senses returned, I collapsed and rolled to the side, pinching the condom as I pulled out of her. Her body jerked and I sat up, trying to see her face, worried I’d hurt her. As soon as the fire fled from my body post orgasm, doubt crept in about what I’d done. “Ana. Are you okay?”
Her shoulders shook, and I started to panic. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I had been too lost in the moment, and I’d been hurting her and didn’t know. My eyes began to burn as I stuttered out an apology. “Fuck, Ana. I’m sorry. So, so, so sorry.”
“Why the hell are you sorry?” she asked, turning her smiling face toward me.
“Wait, you’re smiling?” I blinked rapidly trying to comprehend what I thought was happening and what was actually happening. Ana was laughing.
“After that, why the hell wouldn’t I be?”
“Shit, I thought you were crying,” I admitted, falling back in relief against the couch and pulling her into my arms. Her damp skin glued to mine and it was wonderful. My arm slipped between her breasts, still covered by her shirt and bra, and I relished the feel of her racing heart. The beat soothed me and the shame that had begun to grow dissolved just as quickly. With Ana, there should be no shame about who we were, just acceptance.