There is love making, tender and slow with eyes locked and soft caresses, but that is not all that the erotica has to offer. We must not forget ravenous fucking fueled by a primal desire to possess and pillage. And, of course, there is everything that comes in between those two extremes. Why not experience it all? 

~

In a hotel room in a city close to home, I was devoured. He chewed me up and spit me out, like a wolf with a rabbit in his clutches. He was not a wolf; neither was he a particularly cruel man, but he played his role well. That’s what you get when you fuck a man who has made the study of acting his career. He stepped into a persona and spoke his lines with such convincing strength that had me trembling beneath his rabid claws. Let me paint the scene of this erotic little movie of mine. 

Scene 1: A Story and a Beer Bottle

This hotel bed holds my body as I lie on my belly reading to him, to this man who has requested the pen name of Mr. Hyde.  I’m reading him the draft of a story set on a cool London night, of another dominant man who fingered and choked me by a church. Oh, how these stories of mine weave together like an intricate web. 

As the words flow from my mouth, he peels the label off of his beer bottle. One hand grasps a handful of my thick hair, just as my London Dom did. Mr. Hyde pulls my head back and proceeds to penetrate my mouth with the glass neck of the bottle. He’s exploring me, testing my submission. He lets my head go and orders me to continue reading. I roll onto my back, spreading my thighs and read: 

“And there on the sidewalk with the thickening attraction, the night changed. The balance shifted from a casual meeting to the role play that had been barely contained all evening.” Mr. Hyde’s hands run up my thighs. He drags an ice cube between my beautiful pussy lips. 

Scene 2: From the Bed to the floor 

Mr. Hyde picks up a glass dildo and enters me with a slow, deliberate thrust. His fingers explore my clit, and the heat between us grows.  Just like that, the story of London, with my handwritten notes, gets abandoned on the bed next to us. The sexual tension thickens like a dense fog surrounding us as he explores me, explores this body he’s been lusting over since I introduced myself with my seductive alt ego rather than my true self. He’s been watching my instagram stories; he’s read the erotic smut that comes from my mind. He’s a hunter who has been waiting in the shadows for his chance to lay claim, and he flew here just for this. 

“Get on your knees, Lila,” Mr. Hyde says. He has stepped back from the bed. His brown eyes penetrate me with a predatory gaze. He’s deciding what he wants to do to me. 

“Yes,” I say sitting up from the bed to obey, but I pause. “What do you want me to call you?”

“Call me daddy,” he says. “Now get down on your fucking knees, and grab daddy’s big black cock,” he growls. I do, kneeling down in front of him with my chin tilted up, my hair reaching down to cover my ass. I stroke his cock. It’s hard and full of lust; it drips with desire. He squats down and fingers me. He’s skilled, this lone wolf. His strokes hit their mark, and I melt into it his masculine energy, arching back, exposing my throat in submission. My lips part in anticipation. 

“Stand up,” his voice echoes into my ears as he pulls out from me and rises. I obey. 

Scene 3: The Fucking  

“I’m going to throw you onto the bed,” Mr. Hyde warns me before grabbing a handful of my hair and propelling me with utter force onto the bed. My body arches forward. I land on my back and roll onto my knees. The force of it, his taking of what he wants leaves me looking up with the smile of an accomplice in this game of predator and prey. 

Mr. Hyde climbs onto the bed, and we fuck. Our bodies entwine themselves in different configurations as we strip the bed of its sheets. Yet, it’s the unleashing of his vocabulary that grabs me with the most force. 

“Who owns that pussy, baby girl.” 

“You do daddy.” 

~ 

“Do you like being Daddy’s little slut?” 

“I do, Daddy.” 

~

“I want you to scream out how good Daddy’s big black cock feels in your pink little pussy,” he growls, and I follow his command moaning and yelling out into the headboard of the hotel bed. I’m not faking it. It does feel incredible as I ride him while his hand reaches up and grasps my throat. But he is not satisfied. 

“Louder! You little slut! I want everyone to fucking know!” 

“Fuck, daddy,” I scream. “I fucking need this. Your big black cock feels so fucking good in my tight little cunt.” 

Scene 4: The Ravaging

Mr. Hyde brings his body above me. The weight of him compresses me, arresting my potential for movement as he thrusts the length of his cock into my body. It feels so primal, so possessive. I arch and play at trying to push him off of me. A protest followed by a moan leaves my moist lips as he responds to my game with a tightening of his hold on me. He clasps a hand over my mouth. 

“Make all the noise you want, baby girl,” he breaths from above me. 

Scene 5: After 

We lie naked amongst the disheveled sheets. He turns to me and asks in a calm, professorial tone, “What is 1 word would you use to describe that session?” I pause, thinking for a moment, letting words audition in my mind’s eye. 

“Visceral,” I finally say. 

“I would choose primal,” he says. 

We both smile at the similar impression that our moment together has left on each of us. Then, we fall asleep. At 6 AM, he takes an Uber to the airport and flies home. The deed has been done. 

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