Aside from the many ‘rape play’ fantasies that I fostered as a child/teen, (and shamefully so) the first encounter I had with real pain and aggression during sex, flipped a switch in me and clued me into the realization that this was not just some passing phase or obsession. I had a one night stand with a young man in my early 20’s, not something I did often, but at this particular time in my life I was thirsty for a stiff cock and very very intoxicated. I met Jason through a mutual friend I was visiting out of state. I was in a place where nobody knew who I was, and it didn’t matter how I represented myself. Add in a lot of beer, a few joints and a game of strip poker and I quickly focused my gaze on the fiery red headed Southern Boy sitting next to me. The first night I met him not even a single touch passed between us, but there was a fire there, a flash of the eyes, quick glances and dirty comments that let me know he wanted exactly what I wanted.  We made plans with our friends to all meet up again the next night at a concert and local fair.

I went to bed that night with a throbbing between my legs.  I could not sleep from the overwhelming need to touch myself. I was fearful of being heard, I was sharing a room with a friend, but I could not control the urge. I knew sleep would allude me until I satisfied this need. My  mind wandered back to Jason and the glances we shared and all the sexual innuendo that had passed between as we bantered and flirted. My fantasies drifted into a scene where he followed me into the bathroom and slammed me against the wall as he tore open my shirt and yanked down my pants, all the while telling me what a “bad girl” I was and that he knew just how to take care of a ‘dirty little slut’ like me.  This was nothing new, my fantasies have always eventually found their way to the subject of pain and humiliation, but never had a lover ever lived up to or even came close to stepping over those lines in real life.  Until Jason….

Sleep finally found me after a powerful orgasm by my own hand, dreaming of Jason forcing his manhood on me and hissing in my ear.  The next afternoon, when we were face to face again, I was certain-without a doubt-that he too had had a tasty little fantasy about me before drifting off to sleep. The spark was undeniable. The two of us, knew nothing of each other, not even our last names, but the sexual chemistry between us was electric.  Many beers and another few joints later it was obvious our flirtation was going to cross into a full on physical romp.  The minute his drunken lips touched my drunken lips, sitting in a booth in a dimly lit bar, with a zydeco band playing in the background, a sensation fluttered through me. The same sensation you feel when you are getting pulled over by a policeman, or get caught in a lie….danger is the best description I suppose.  Now I suppose this is the part where I need to fess up the fact that I was in a relationship with someone back home. A loving, monogamous, long term relationship. But our physical relationship had withered and I was feeling lonely and rejected. The thought of this aggressive young man wanting to fuck me had me giddy with excitement, so much so that I disregarded my commitments back home.   I say this because, as kinky as I am, monogamy is something important to me. This was not one of my finer moments as a human being, but it did open a door for me….

Finally alone in a dark bedroom with the freedom to release our passions, Jason and I quickly stripped each other and began a passionate exploration of the other’s body.  It was nice, it was fun, but it was turning into the vanilla sex that I had always encountered…a far cry from my fantasies of the night before. Until the moment came when we actually began to fuck. He was very well endowed for a man of his size. He was quite short and skinny, I didn’t expect him to have a monster in his pants! The look on his face as he began to fuck me filled me with excitement once again! He had that angry, fierce look that Thomas would get sometimes and I felt myself being more and more turned on by his sudden aggression. We were in a missionary position as he began to increase his thrusting and force. I could feel his hand reaching behind my neck and it lingered there for a few moments before he reached his fingers up into my thick mop of curls and grabbed a fistful of my hair. Our eyes locked, and I am certain he could see by the look in my eyes that my body was begging for what he was about to do. He yanked my head back so far I cried out…this did not deter him in the slightest. He pulled hard like he was reigning in a wild stallion (perhaps he was) and he used my hair as an anchor for his forceful thrusts.  Lost in the pleasure of the pain I didn’t even concern myself with whether I would have an orgasm or not. I was finally experiencing the taboo pleasures I had been fantasizing about for years!  I cannot remember much about the end of our coupling, the goodbye we exchanged or even his face anymore…but I can remember his hand in my hair, yanking himself up on me with it…it was wonderful. It was a taste…but I am oh so hungry now.