DIRT: the grunge diaries (𝒱𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝒶'𝓈 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃)

entry #170 - it ain't like that (it actually is)

⚠️ mentions of drugs. explicit sex descriptions. this sucks and I know it, but I can't find one way to 'fix' it and make it any more readable. take it as it is and love it or hate it ⚠️

October 27, 1992
Louisville, Kentucky

♥ فيزا

Another night, another arena, another concert, another case of my boyfriend and I fucking in some random backstage room, because we were just too horny to save sex for when we'd eventually be back at the hotel. In fact, we're in the portable closet now, both of us are wired as heck on cocaine, and we're doing what we gotta do, while Ozzy Osbourne is playing on stage, and before we gotta hop on the tour bus and head to some after hours club (and pretend we don't like each other and haven't just fucked, because Jessica is still around): this all started with two, thick cocaine lines and a few kisses, but obviously, it took a turn. If it didn't, I wouldn't be all fours now, and he wouldn't be taking me from behind, hungry and restless as only someone who's balling on some stimulant substance can be. His cock is slamming deep inside of me, so damn hard I'm screaming like one of these annoying as fuck, noisy sluts in porn movies. He's wrapping one arm around my waist to keep me still, and he's using his hand of the other arm to slap my ass, y'know, to make me scream even harder for him, because he's feeling my noisiness I reckon. Everytime I try and turn to him, to see how much he's digging my total, unconditional submission, I see his bloodshot, horny horny eyes, and he grips my waist to the point his fingers sink deep into the skin of it. Right now, my hands are on the floor and he's fucking me with short, rabbit-like, hungry pushes and pulls. I'm screaming in half pleasure half pain, as he just ain't taking it easy on me, and I love the degree of confusion and sheer pain that come from being fucked silly. The more I take him and don't complain, just whine a little, the harder he fucks me, because he knows I can withstand it, and my resilience turns him on. He can get pretty rough when he's under the influence... but ask me if I trust him nonetheless, and I'll scream a hundred times yes. 

'Fuck, Jennifer... you're taking it so well'. He growls, as he toys with the stainless steel bar in my belly button, and keeps hammering his cock hard inside of me. At his words, at at his wrong name calling thing, I literally drip down there, and I begin to smack my ass against his lap, as to tell him that I wanna be fucked harder, if that's even an option. He growls once more, mischievous as only he can be, and the next thing I know, is that he's slamming himself inside of me harder than before I tried to assert myself, gripping my neck and leaving a bunch of kisses and bites in the hollow of it. He can fuck me like I'm a cheap slut and call me Jennifer, and I'll never fucking ask him to take it easier on me. I'll much rather ask him to fuck me harder, perhaps until my back breaks, and that's what I'm doing now: I'm no quitter, I'm a woman of action even when I'm at my man's mercy, and I'm still bouncing against his lap, to sustain his already perfect, hard thrusts. But he ain't having any of my collaboration, and he lets it be known by pulling out from within me, picking me up into his arms, and roughly flipping me back first on the floor.

'I swear to god, when I asked you to break my back... I didn't mean this'. I tease him, just to let him know that no matter the cocaine in my system and the hormones flowing within me, I still  remember that when I asked him to 'break my back', when we started this fuck in the first place, I didn't mean by smacking it over any flat surface of his choice. I meant it fucking wise... but honestly, I'm not sure he received the message correctly. If he had, he wouldn't be pushing me back on the floor, now that I'm fighting his hold back, and trying to lift my shoulders from the floor. He just puts me back in my place, kinda painfully on me if I gotta say, spreads my legs a little, kneels between them, and looks down on me biting his lower lip and drooling by the sides of his mouth. We are so fucking wasted that we both think this power game is acceptable... and silly me, my pussy is throbbing with desire at his chaotic forcefulness. Normally, he would've gotten a couole slaps in the face for being so bossy to me, but now, I'm just letting him... I mean, us, get away with this just because I know we ain't hundred percent rational. And saying that it fucking turns me on would be an understatement.