Primal Pursuit

Your cunt is so wet, rabbit. Too wet. Like you’ve been doing things you shouldn’t.

I start to play with her clit, slow pets and strokes over it, and she begins to rock a little. I do it a little more, adding a touch more pressure, now sliding my fingers in a V-shape over and around her pussy-lips, pulling, squeezing, and she jolts. Shuddering. Did she…did she just come? A mini-little orgasm that will both energize her and leave her wanting more.

Poppy makes a little sound that I barely hear above the music, and I stroke her sex more, long pulls that I know edge her toward more. I keep her there, the cliff crumbling beneath her feet, and her breath comes in fast and panting. I smirk when she spills her drink, her clit swelling between my fingers, and I scissor it some more, loving the little moans she makes.

Sweet little rabbit sounds. I fucking love how you swell up, how your little clit gets all jumpy when you come. I know you snuck one in. Do you want to come? For real? Right here?

Fuck you.

Add a please, and I’ll think about it.

I dip in low, rubbing over her clit, pressing in with my hand to keep pressure on it, to keep her suspended between craving and fulfillment, and I slip down into her wet hole, start sliding two fingers in, and then back up. I’ve got her crowded against the wall, and it’s dark enough that I don’t think anyone can see.

She fumbles with her phone, and I get a text.

Please…

Fuck you?

Stop. Please. People can see.

None of those are your safe word, rabbit.

She doesn’t say savage. Fuck, she turns me on. It’s beyond hot. I’ve never in my life met someone like her. I know women who do this shit all the time, practiced players who tap out at this very unsafe, very real kind of play.

Most players set everything up.

Just like me, Poppy thrives on the real edge of the fantasy, and I swear to fucking hell that if it wouldn’t get me arrested, I’d throw her down here and now and pound her to next week. I’d tie her down on the bar, spread for my delight, and invite others to look as I take my fill. And I’d never let them touch.

And I think…I think she’d let me.

Rabbit’s one hell of a wild creature.

I work her some more, bringing her to the edge, her wet tunnel so hot, velvety, and tight. I need to bring toys along next time. Lots of them.

She starts to tremble, and I ease my fingers out of her, cutting off that sweet orgasm she’s desperate for.

Her lips move. Now, I’m no lip-reader, but I’m pretty sure her mouth formed the perfect ‘fuck-you.’

Poppy downs her drink, and she texts fast and furious.

Give me your knife so I can castrate you like you deserve.

You know what? I’m out of here. Now.

Asshole asshole asshole.

So you want me to fuck your asshole?

She doesn’t look at me but she digs her hand into my upper thigh, pinching hard, and the bite of pain is delicious.

She gets up on wobbling legs, stalks out, and I let her think she won. She’s the kind of wild creature you never really cage, never domesticate. Domineer, hold, catch, but never, ever tame.

Phenomenal.

I rise and follow her out.

I accept your challenge, rabbit. Ready or not, here I come.