Press

1969

This one's a bit rougher, just a heads up :)

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Some days Paul would return to the house angry, not sad. He'd be so frustrated, pent up anger fueling him.

He'd kiss back angrily, using teeth. He'd bite down on your lip hard, sometimes drawing blood.

If you went down on him, he would be impatient, pushing your head down deeper, rough with it. He'd groan deep in his low voice, gritting his teeth.

He'd pull your hair, tugging it harshly. If he was lying down, he'd push your head deeper with both hands, fuzzy thighs tight on your ears, your nose flush against his soft pubic hair. You liked when he'd push your head down, but he used to do it slower before, gradually increasing the pressure.

You ran your hands down the slope of his shoulders, trying to sooth him. He'd close his eyes, still tense, furrowed eyebrows.

Sometimes he'd take you against the wall, pushing you hard to the surface, sometimes bent over a table, or pressed into a mattress.

Paul was hard and fast, but he didn't do it with a silly grin like in the past. He used to only go at this pace because he was excited, ecstatic, fucking you gleefully as he shouted in pleasure. Now, he was releasing his frustration, his stare miles away. He could be glaring right at your face, but he wasn't seeing you.

Paul's grip was rougher, leaving bruises and nail marks. He slammed into you harshly, holding your body tight enough that it was difficult to breathe. At times like this you remembered his actual strength. He never hit or choked you, but seethed, his mind elsewhere.

Tears of frustration even slipped his eyes as he got closer. He'd be the most rough with you when his violent release was imminent, anything to finally reach it. Paul could chase the satisfaction of his arousal, but it never resolved the bigger issue.

He'd bite your neck and shoulders hard when he came, drawing blood. You had to apply creams the next day for them to heal. Paul would let out deep sounds from his nose, stressing from the bottom of his throat. He used strength you didn't know he had, going deeper than he'd ever been. Paul wasn't very large, but at moments like these, it felt like he was tearing you in two.

As he came down from it, breathing heavily, it seemed that he'd come out of the trance, noticing the marks he'd left and your strained expression. He'd apologize, lightly touching them with his hands, a horribly guilty expression. You'd assure him that it was alright.

-

Paul would also want to be fucked. Hard.

He would be loud again, but angrier noises, not his usual melodic sounds and gasps of pleasure. He would shout and groan, eyebrows angry, eyes tight, wrinkling the skin around them.

When you fucked him from behind, he'd only shout for "More!" Paul would always want it rougher, harder. He wanted you to thrust into him roughly, hurt him. He wanted you to dig your fingernails into his soft flesh, squeeze his swollen arousal so tight and harsh that sparks of pain would shoot up his hips.

Paul would grab fistfuls of the duvet, fists clenched tight, cheek pressed harshly to the mattress. He'd want you to pull his hair roughly, crane his neck up. You would, his hair thicker and longer than it was before, soft and cool in your hand. He'd push back into you, always wanting more. He'd shout for you to do it "Harder!" even if you were giving him all you got, tears running down his face. He'd want you to bring a hand down on him, making him shout, but it was never hard enough for him.

He'd even ask you to get bigger sizes, stretching him out. He'd need to widen his thighs as it pushed into him. He didn't have patience for you to go in slowly. He wanted you to shove it in swiftly, make him cry out at the stretch, hurt him.

He couldn't be arsed to wait for you to prepare him. He'd shout at you to "Fuck him already!" He'd push back frustrated on your fingers. He once even pushed you over. He was still stronger than you, despite what he may want.

He'd grip the headboard tightly, knuckles turning white, muscles in his back tense.

When he was on his back, you could see his face more clearly. It was pained, contorted with his shouting. You were worried you were hurting him, but he could tell if you held back, being met with shouting and demands.

He'd ask you to choke him, do it harder even. He'd want you to dig your nails into the soft sweet sides of his waist, punish him for the slight weight he'd gained. He'd still kiss roughly like when you were the one being fucked, biting into your mouth, digging his nails into your back.

He'd tell you to punch his chest between your nails, tug them hard. You felt bad to be so harsh in such a sensitive area, his screams sounding much too pained. Again, he'd get mad if he noticed you restraining yourself, yelling at you for "Harder!" You were worried you'd tear the poor things off. They'd become so pink and sensitive, throbbing in pain along with his heartbeat.

Paul would grind his hips up into the prosthetic. You tried your best, but you could only fuck him so hard, but he always seemed to want more. Paul would hold your back tightly, pressing you to him, making it hard to breathe. He'd wrap his long legs around you, making you go deeper. He'd swear and toss his head back and forth, slamming his head against the pillow.

He wanted you to be cruel to his prick as well, squeeze harshly, dig your thumbnail into his slit, something you felt bad about as he screamed so high. It would become so irate and swollen, dark pink and desperate for release.

Paul wasn't satisfied until he was cumming hard into your fist, cries and shouts so loud you were worried the girls outside would hear. He wanted teeth on him, you to bite down on either his neck or sweet full bottom lip.

Sometimes the intensity would get to him, tears slipping out. He'd give strangled cries in the heat of the moment, but would never let you slow down

After he finished, sometimes more tears would slip out, coming down from the high. You'd stroke his sides, soothing him, kiss the tears from his eyes.

His chest sometimes jumped with a sob. You'd make sure to ground him with your weight and warmth.