When The Bruiser bends me over the vanity in his room, he grabs me, one hand on my shoulder and the other on my hip. He grips me hard; hard enough for me to feel where his hands were the next day. He uses this grip to be able to pound me even harder than he already is, pulling me back into him vigorously, slamming into me violently and frantically.
His grip on me is so tight that sometimes I can not only feel where his hands were the next day, I can see it as well. His finger on my hip:
And I fucking love it.
I'm Britni, a snarky bitch and generally awesome person. I write about sex, love, and bullshit. If sex-positivity, discussions about BDSM and kink, queer issues, and topics that are completely inappropriate by society's standards make you uncomfortable, then this blog is not for you.
Good Vibes 
2 Comments
There is going to be an interesting juxtaposition between your private life, where you enjoy controlled violent sex and recreational drug use, and your work life at the shelter where you will be dealing with the victims of uncontrolled violent sex and drug abuse.
Looks like you have your fuck buddy back. Some guys have all the luck.