Page 81 of Rough

“God damn it.” I opened my eyes. “Stop checking on me. I’m doin’ just fine.”

“You’re hit and miss,” she said. “In. Try to catch your breath. Out. Wait. In. Wait. Out. In. Wait. Just give it to me, would you?”

Her attitude was part of the reason I was attracted to her. But her shit-talking during sex was going to have to stop. When it came to sex, I was the conductor of the train, and she needed to realize it.

“I’m driving this fuckin’ train, and don’t you fuckin’ forget it,” I growled. “I’ll fuck you senseless. Just remember, you asked for it.”

I gripped her hips in my hands, took a deep breath, and began the onslaught of sexual punishment.

In and out I pounded, my hips slapping against her ass with each powerful stroke. I was giving her every inch of cock I owned, and giving it to her good. As far as I was concerned, I’d fuck her all the way across the living room floor just to teach her a lesson.

A grunt shot from her lungs each time I pounded my length into her. It was satisfying to hear her discomfort. I was finally getting a little get back for the bike, and the day she kicked my ass on the porch. In sexual bliss, I closed my eyes, clenched my jaw, and…

No.

No.

Nooooo!

I arched my back, let out a cry, and had the orgasm of a lifetime.

Frustrated with my performance, or lack thereof, I let out a sigh.

“Everything alright up there?”

I opened my eyes. “Fuck you.”

“Catching your breath?”

“Fuck you, Tegan.”

“What happened? You pull a muscle or something?”

“I came,” I said, my response faint.

Still bent over, she cocked her head to the side and met my gaze. “Huh?”

“I came,” I said, this time even more faint.

“I can’t hear you.”

“I came,” I shouted.

“What time is it?”

I glanced at my watch and responded before I realized what she was doing. “12:04.”

“Wow,” she said. “Impressive. Maybe with a little practice, you’ll be able to last five minutes. At least this gives us a benchmark.”

I slipped my flaccid cock from inside of her, and flopped down on the couch cushion, embarrassed.

She stood from her downward dog position and turned to face me. Her mouth twisted into a smirk. “You might have been driving the train,” she said. “But you ran out of gas before you made it to the destination.”

“Just wait ‘till next time,” I said. “I’ll make up for it.”

“Oh, there’s going to be a next time?”

I nodded. “I hope so.”