It doesn’t seem to matter to her that all his terrified, panicked body can produce is a weak-willed erection; she begins to ride him painfully and overly fast, though the discomfort is thankfully lessened by her wetness.
He realizes, upon the feel of her around him once again, that she must be aroused by this—by the pain and terror she has incited in him. With the next gasp of breath she allows him he only manages to choke out a sob of horror.
Kate begins to let out little sounds, the sounds he used to love—used to covet in the privacy of his mind; he manages to catch a small whisper of ‘you missed me’ as she leans down to bite at his jugular. Though it is hissed against his skin like a childish accusation—something he was not meant to hear.
“Missed me! MISSED ME!” She suddenly screams in his face, livid and shaking with the intensity of the hate in her eyes. She releases his throat finally, watching him gasp and choke greedily on the air that rushes through his lungs. She leans down to snarl disgustedly in his ear. “This serves you right—for fucking little girls…”
Herman can’t control his breathing, can’t calm down enough for the overwhelming, buzzing light-headedness to pass safely; he is spiraling into some sort of attack, he knows—maybe even a heart attack—but he cannot calm down! She is screaming and screaming at him, slapping and scratching at his face with all the anger she’s hidden from him since returning.
Is this because of Butch? Or maybe her father’s death? She cannot hate Herman so deeply that she would do this—can she?
His ejaculation springs up upon the both of them with no warning, though it is not something to be enjoyed or to derive a guilty euphoria from—it is something shriveled and defeated, something that sucks the life from his muscles and the lights from his eyes. He did not want it, he did not.
God, I didn’t want this.
Kate pauses as her weak, monotonous orgasm flushes through her womb, disappointing after all the effort she had put into it—though the thickness of Manny still inside her manages to give her hips a cheap shiver. Her muscles begin to burn from her previous fervor.
Her limbs wilt as she settles; the sick, rotting fury in her chest begins to cool back down to an aching simmer. She leans down to catch her breath against Herman’s slow rising chest—he is out cold, she knows, but that doesn’t sting with dissatisfaction as much as she thought it would.
Kate’s taken what she deserved rightfully, and he won’t live to mourn over his loss, so she doesn’t require anything more from him.
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timeasmymeasure
Missed Me 4c/4
Date: 2014-12-15 06:01 am (UTC)He realizes, upon the feel of her around him once again, that she must be aroused by this—by the pain and terror she has incited in him. With the next gasp of breath she allows him he only manages to choke out a sob of horror.
Kate begins to let out little sounds, the sounds he used to love—used to covet in the privacy of his mind; he manages to catch a small whisper of ‘you missed me’ as she leans down to bite at his jugular. Though it is hissed against his skin like a childish accusation—something he was not meant to hear.
“Missed me! MISSED ME!” She suddenly screams in his face, livid and shaking with the intensity of the hate in her eyes. She releases his throat finally, watching him gasp and choke greedily on the air that rushes through his lungs. She leans down to snarl disgustedly in his ear. “This serves you right—for fucking little girls…”
Herman can’t control his breathing, can’t calm down enough for the overwhelming, buzzing light-headedness to pass safely; he is spiraling into some sort of attack, he knows—maybe even a heart attack—but he cannot calm down! She is screaming and screaming at him, slapping and scratching at his face with all the anger she’s hidden from him since returning.
Is this because of Butch? Or maybe her father’s death? She cannot hate Herman so deeply that she would do this—can she?
His ejaculation springs up upon the both of them with no warning, though it is not something to be enjoyed or to derive a guilty euphoria from—it is something shriveled and defeated, something that sucks the life from his muscles and the lights from his eyes. He did not want it, he did not.
God, I didn’t want this.
Kate pauses as her weak, monotonous orgasm flushes through her womb, disappointing after all the effort she had put into it—though the thickness of Manny still inside her manages to give her hips a cheap shiver. Her muscles begin to burn from her previous fervor.
Her limbs wilt as she settles; the sick, rotting fury in her chest begins to cool back down to an aching simmer. She leans down to catch her breath against Herman’s slow rising chest—he is out cold, she knows, but that doesn’t sting with dissatisfaction as much as she thought it would.
Kate’s taken what she deserved rightfully, and he won’t live to mourn over his loss, so she doesn’t require anything more from him.