BLACKmail

25

His chicken wings are really that good that we agreed (he suggested to which I replied with my lazy hmm) to have it every Sunday.

We've been living together for four months now and I've gotten the rhythm of what it feels like sharing a place with an abductor. The routine is mundane but somehow, every night, he always has something up on his sleeve to make me wonder if tonight's the night.

You know, if he finally feels generous enough to grant me an orgasm.

Based on my impeccable math skill, I haven't had an orgasm for ten weeks now. At this rate I'm sure any church in the world would accept me as a nun by this pristine record of self-control because what? Masturbation? What's that?

The fact that I was greatly warned by the beast make me pretend I'm not interested in one though in reality, I'm desperate for it.

Don't call me a sex craved slut because let's face it, won't you be desperate too if you're being fucked in every position possible on daily basis but you never get to finish?

Call me a coward but I don't dare to do what he specifically told me not to, his punishment is not something anyone can comprehend. The last thing I want is to anger him that he'd release one of those pictures or videos.

"Sweetheart," he calls me when we're playing with our phone.

It's another lazy Sunday, we're so full from lunch we decided to be two fat pigs rolling in the mud. But in this situation, it's a bed instead of a muddy puddle.

"Miss Lee." He tries again, wiggling his way in my closed arms that I have to part them just to accomodate his huge body.

He grins when I narrow my eyes at him for disturbing my Plants vs Zombie time. Enough to be annoyed but never to be mad, I wouldn't dare to.

"I eat too much," he pouts adorably.

Duh, you practically gobbled more than half of the whole thing.

"Should we exercise a bit?" Can you be more creative at initiating sex?

But I swear he just needs to show his dick and I'll be jumping on it in a flash by how horny I've been these days.

The initial plan was to deprive orgasm so he'd be less interested and eventually leave me alone but it's the opposite of what I envisioned; he clearly doesn't care about me as long as he gets his release.

"I'm too full."

"Mhmmm." He acknowledges what I said by that simple hum but his body is doing the opposite; nuzzling his face in my cleavage, palming my ass appreciatively, with his bare torso touching every bit of my skin not leaving any gap between us, almost suffocating me by how tight his embrace is.

"Gabriel." I call his name as a warning.

Oh by the way, he knows.

He knows what Ssagaji means, all thanks to his Korean colleague who laughed at him when he flaunted me during a work party, being all proud sharing how sweet I was by calling him Ssagaji to match his Sweetheart endearment for me. Only to know it means jerk.

Surprisingly he laughed along with them while I freaked out the entire time, worried if he's gonna punish me later when we were alone. Worse, if he's gonna release a picture or two, as a hard warning.

We came home around midnight, he abused my mouth with his tongue and cock, until I really learned my lesson not to say such things anymore. From that moment onwards, I only call him Gabriel.

"Yesss," his voice is muffled since his face is smooched to my chest, inhaling my scent as if he's a sniffer dog, kissing me all over like a true pervert.

"Let me finish this level." I whine in regards to my Zombie vs Plants game. It's a tough level so it will take probably hours to pass this one. A perfect excuse to delay having sex with him.

"Okay."

Okay my ass. Again, he's doing the opposite of what he said. He hasn't moved an inch.

"You said okay." I say sternly.

He finally pulls his face only to look up, frowning, "But I want to love you. Let me love you."

"You can love me from the other side of this bed. Shoo."

"I don't wanna look at you. I want to love you." He pushes his body to go further up before taking my right hand and navigates it towards his third leg.

"Feel my love." He rubs himself with my hand as he plants a kiss on my lips.

Have I told you how sensitive I am these days? A simple kiss like this can trigger my inner slut, rushing her to come out.

That's how I reply his kiss twice as hard and moan when he starts tweaking my pebbled nipples. I can feel his sly smile during the kiss but I couldn't care less. Maybe today's the day?

***

"Are you close?" He asks teasingly when he obviously can feel my walls clutching him tight, ready to reach my high.

"You are, aren't you." He has the audacity to grin like an idiot as he decreases his pace, slowly penetrating me, wanting to torture me to his maximum ability.

"Mhmm," he hums while kissing my collarbone, then moves along my neck, sucking on it.

I hate how conflicted I am whenever I think about begging him to grant me an orgasm because at the same time I still remember my plan to get rid of him, not to allow him to keep using me like this!

But his voice, his kisses, his touch, the way he moves in and out of me-

"So close..." He has this wicked expression as he looks at me straight in the eyes after pulling out his hard cock at the last moment, just in time in denying my high. This bastard has gotten better with his prediction.

"Close to celibacy!" I push his chest with all my might then storm off to the bathroom, locking myself as my tears burst out.

I can't believe I'm crying for my lack of release! What kind of a slut am I? First to have sex with a rapist, then wanting to enjoy it to the point of craving an orgasm? What have I become?