State of Mind

Keira’s teeth pressed against my neck and I arced, pushing my breast into her palm.  Her fingers drew a line down the swell of my mound and I wiggled away from them, pressing against her.  I’d had orgasm after orgasm, my clit pulsed, but I knew she would make me come again.  “Again, Cindy.”  Her voice was rich, firm, and there’s no room for argument.  My cunt squeezed and I was wetter still at her certainty.  I nodded and arched, reaching back over my shoulder for her.  Her grip on my breast shifted.

I gasped as she caught my nipple between thumb and forefinger and started to squeeze, a steady increase of pressure.  I was caught there against her, between her hands.  “My wanton slut,” she said against my neck.  My cunt was slick and hot and swollen and her fingers slid around my clit in such a way that it felt huge. “Oh god,” I whispered.  Keira’s fingers trapped that tender flesh easily and she started to squeeze it just as she did my nipple.  My hips bucked and a tortured moan escaped my lips.
“Please.”  I begged but I didn’t know what I was asking for.  She knew.  Her hips thrust against mine, forcing my cunt against her fingers.  We’re slippery with sweat, I was sticky with candle wax and I could smell her come all over me.  My skin was tender, my cunt, ass, all stretched and sore, and I know she would keep using me until I was limp.
“Such a whore you are,” she growled against my shoulder and her hips jabbed at mine. Keira held my clit so hard that I couldn’t believe I didn’t scream.  “So easy to use, so ready for more.”  Her hands were cruel and her mouth more so.
My hips rocked.  My clit was hard and she started tugging at it as if it were a tiny, little cock.  It hurt.  It was exquisite.  I could feel the orgasm trapped behind her fingers, the pressure building, and I knew this one would tear me apart.
“No,” she snarled, her voice harsh, ragged at the edges as if she would tear apart too. Her free hand came up and I groaned as her fingers closed around my throat.  “Not until I tell you,” she said.  “Your orgasms are mine.”  The constriction sent hot sparks up and down my spine and my hips jumped.  Her fingers clutched, squeezing around my larynx and I started to shake.  “You’re mine, Cindy, mine to fuck, and use, and take.”  She pulled my head around and my eyes went wide as she glared at me.  I hung on the edge and her fingers ceased their torment.  “Come.  Now.”  Lava rushed up my spine and into my cunt.  My lips stretched and I screamed, bucking back into Keira, my body jerking so wildly she released my throat and held me to her until at last I tumbled back down off the insane high of my orgasm.
Somewhere between one breath and another a sob broke loose and Keira cupped my mound and curled me to her as the tears flowed. “Such a good girl,” she whispered against my lips and we both felt my cunt flex in response.

1 note


how many times have i seen the prettiest girls w the ugliest guys and I’m staring at him wondering if it’s the way the light is hitting his face or smth and she’s looking at me like stay away from my man…listen im just trying to solve a puzzle you beautiful idiot

44,445 notes


This is incredible! What determination, im jealous:0


This is incredible! What determination, im jealous:0

49 notes

  1. solitas

i once lived life with my hands covering my head

afraid to look up, scared of what it would bring,

swallowed grey skies,

grey bloated on emptiness that consumed,

dying, dying, i lived for him, lived to appease his moods,

trod perpetual eggshell floor,

cowered from myself,

coward to hisselfserving eyes,

wake to doom. steamed cars starving at night

bowed to his alter,

i, an alienated abscess of ache,

identity splintered. groin congealed. neckracked.

afraid to move in bed. petrified to get up. and out.

fear fed and fallow fucks

i went to the mountain i cried in the cemetery,

i sensed solitude made friends with death

stem cell sympathy void of vision

i watched other couples, jealous of their normality

walked on invisible enmity,

dreamt of old age aloneness of passivity,

i lived with my hands sheltering my head

a threat of violence born from insecurity

dripfed days and hands holding nothing

constantly stuck in silence,

stuck, stuttered, sunk like stones under water

i held my breath,

i hid a seed beneath the concrete

i planted a sun under the stairs

i inked a poem to the stars

stitched words into secret places

     2. stimmung

I don’t believe it. Listen, it is quiet, calm. I can feel the sunlight on my face and not feel guilty anymore, I can hear the trains go through the tunnel and not feel I want to jump in front of one, anymore.

I can feel the rise and fall of my breathing and not want to choke from the snap of a rope upon my neck, anymore. I look around our home. Feel the bookshelves whisper answers. Touch the photos that paint our lives. Sense the stillness that bursts with life.

Plan tomorrow, yeah, see tomorrow we’re going to walk right to the top of the mountain, you can see for miles there, I hope it’s a nice day… I think it will be… tomorrow… We sleep. We wake. We have breakfast. We wash. We dress. We tidy the house. We make sandwiches… We walk the mountain, tomorrow, yes tomorrow.

See, when someone hits you, pushes you down the stairs, tells you that you are nothing, isolates you from family, makes day to day life unbearable, you, you start to believe in some glorious afterlife, a place of flowers not fists, of peace not hate… and you almost give up living… but I know there is no such place… that’s what abuse does to you makes you lose faith that there is order and continuity in life.

So you start to believe in some fucking invisible entity where you’ll be cared for unconditionally, but that’s what the abuser wants you to do so they can continue doing what they do best… destroying every part of you…

But that was yesterday and on that day when I finally said no, no, no more—I closed the door, his door and I walked to the sunlight and it was my sunlight and I exhaled for the first time in years, and today, for the first time, I know there is a tomorrow. I bow to godless alter of unified skin and skynourished bodies. The wind severs branches to launch seeds to new soil, then so have I, been broken to grow fresh life, somewhere else. My hands by my sides. There is love. There is order. There is continuity… there is me… and there is you…