Selfish greed

[Cath]

Short story in first person

Here I was, standing in front of his door. Despite everything that had happened between us, I thought that nothing really changed...

I remember when we first met, I was this stupid and naive girl that thought that she could change the world. I know I'm not smart, nor strong. But at least giving a helping hand to someone in need was something within my reach. So I helped him during a bad moment in his life.

With time, his situation improved, I was there to witness his growth and it made me happy, I felt like I amounted to something. Watching his glow up with me, I felt special. Eventually, I'd hang out with him at his house. Well, he still lived with his mom, but she was a good woman, raising her kid all on her own. So he helped pay the rent with her. That was something I respected about him.

One thing led to another and, when his mother would go to work during weekends, we'd hit it off. Like he liked to say, we "smashed". It was always funny to ask the other if they wanted to "smash", it made us laugh. We usually did it in the living room, on the couch. Despite being one year older than him, he was always the one on top, dominating me and making me unable to walk straight after that. On the rare occasion when I was on top, he'd give me more punishment, I never rode him, he just pumped me from under me. I loved when he made me feel like a sextoy, I loved knowing that he was getting pleased with my body. I loved feeling useful. We'd "smash" for a couple of hours. And I was a screamer, so my crotch wasn't the only thing that was sore afterward. I knew he loved when I expressed how much I loved getting "smashed". Being loud wasn't such a big deal back then.

A few years later, he found himself a girlfriend. At first, I was very happy and supportive of him. I even met her, she was a couple older than him and was an alright gal from what I could see. I still visited him during weekends, only hanging out and laughing at memes. It was... nice. I was surprised when he told me that he hasn't had any sexual acts since then, not even masturbating. I didn't question him too much about, after all it was his own life. As for me, I kept myself busy, compensating for the lack of "smashing", only doing it solo. But as their little couple was going strongly, I saw him less and less, and I didn't hide my disappointment. I couldn't even hang out with him during our weekends, since he was visiting his girlfriend. But I knew that I was being selfish, I was always possessive of the people I liked and maybe that was his way to punish me.

Then one day he sent me a text, saying that they broke up. I was in middle of a university lesson, I stormed off and called him, worried about him. I was willing to rush to him to comfort him, but he said that he was doing fine, that he just needed to talk about it a bit. I was a bit happy to learn that I was the second person he had shared the news with, the first being his mom. I was a monster for feeling happy that I was his second person in mind, I was happy that he reached me to share his wound. At least I was also sad that they broke up, holding a grudge against his ex. I was probably acting like an older sister during that moment.

Time passed and everything went back to normal, for the most part. I was a bit surprised when he named his kitten after me, and was a bit bothersome when we'd "smash" and the little pet would rub against me, sometimes staring at me. It was a bit of a turn off when we stared at each other while I was getting butt fucked. One time, that little shit hissed at me when I was screaming his name. I always preferred dogs anyway.

But recently, something happened in his family, forcing him and his mother to host an uncle who was barely older than me. I didn't see him much, but I came to despise him. From what I learnt during outdoor escapades, the uncle was a deadbeat. Refusing to work, nor contribute to the house chores. He was supposed to look for a new home, but hasn't done much. It was irritating me since that uncle would laze in the house, sleeping during the morning weekends. Our little routine was greatly perturbed, no more couch sex, and no more foreplay either, since I was a screamer. Despite my aversion to blowjobs, I once tried to give one, only to be almost caught by the uncle who was walking around the house. I thought about bringing to sex in the bedroom or at my place, but it wasn't the same. Our "smashing" sessions were a casual occurrence, it would happen if the both of us were feeling like it, and changing places to do it would immediately kill the mood.

The last time we had a clear window to fool around, I couldn't get wet, even with a bit of stimulation, I couldn't. I wasn't excited and I was frustrated. It threw him off and I quickly left. From that point, we started drifting apart, the situation worsened when we got conflicting schedules and too much work on our own side. We texted less and less. I tried to keep the relation as best as a I could, but I felt guilty. Was it because I never confessed to him? Was it because I got to care less? I only fooled around with him, thinking that it would have been fine. But the recent events led to more frustration, leading to deprive me from excitement, from arousal. Did I still want him after our dry incident?

And so, back to the present, I stood there, in front of his door. I took a deep breath and rang the bell. It was time that I opened to up and shared my feelings.

[Cath]

Part 2:

Laying on his bed, fully clothed and looking bored, I stared at the ceiling. I was wondering what came to me. He wasn't there, only his uncle was at home. He knew of me, so he let me come it. He told me that my friend would be back in a short while, he was buying groceries. I hid my disdain towards him, I always held him for ruining what I had with my friend. I didn't want to wait in the living room, that would have forced me to spent more time with the uncle, and that was something I wanted to avoid at all cost. So I casually said my intention of waiting in the bedroom. He probably didn't care much either and shrugged.

I wanted to come clean, to share my feelings, and I was prepared to get a "break up" even if we were never in that sort of relationship. Killing time as best as I could, I checked my phone, scrolling through social medias, looking as bored as ever. Feeling too comfortable, I removed my shoes and put the base my feet on the bed, legs slightly spread and moving side to side in a way to shake off the boredom. Faintly feeling the smell of my friend on his bed sheet, it made me feel nostalgic. I closed my eyes, focusing on my five senses, remembering the image of my friend. His smell, his face, his laugh, his touch. It made me think back of our "smashing" session. I could recall how much I love feeling him inside of me, every inches of his manhood filling me, his throbbing member pulsating in my being. His way of dominating me, holding me by the ponytail that I always wore when visiting him, slamming his balls against my wet entrance. I remember buying one of those crotchless panties so that he could get an easier access to my welcoming slit, always being well lubricated for him.

Thinking about it made feel hot, and unable to shake this feeling, my craving for him was too much to control. Unbuttoning my blouse, I held my breast, fondling it, massaging it, kneading it while thinking of him. I wanted him. Sliding another hand, I reached for my steamy lips, already sticky, and with the easy access thanks to those kinky piece of lingeries. Biting my lower lip, I let out quiet moans, barely audible. I felt happy to realize that I still could get wet thinking about him, making me want to ride the dick that I was missing, that I was longing for.

If it kept going, I wouldn't be able to think about anything but getting fucked doggy style, even raw for once. The more I was thinking about the possibility of losing my senses made me excited. I didn't want to, I wanted to have an actual chat, I wanted to mend our wounds. But the more I focused on not getting crazy, the more I became crazy. My urges pushed me to punish my little cunt, twirling my fingers inside, rubbing my clit while pinching my nipple under my bras. I let out an audible moan and quickly opened my eyes, realizing that what I was doing was fucked up. I held my head with my hands, the cum on my fingers didn't bother as I was getting slapped by reality. I rolled in ball, wanting to become as small as possible. I had just masturbated on the bed of my friend, who I was getting distant of, almost becoming strangers. Only perverts, degenerates, and deviants would do such a thing. What was I thinking? Have I become some kind of slut? Was I being obsessive?

Despite being invaded by an orgasm, I couldn't help but find myself horrible, dirty, unlikable, even worse, unlovable. I began hyperventilating, tears rolling down my cheeks as became aware of how twisted I became.

They said that insanity wasn't unbearable for the ones who haven't realized that they lost their sanity. At that moment, I realized that I actually regained some, meaning that I was being insane. I was insane, and I couldn't bear the fact that was. Overtaken by despair, I screamed, as if doing that would bring me back to sanity. I screamed my lungs out, voice shattered by fear, despair, anger, and rage, all aimed at my pathetic self. Screaming as if expelling the filth out of me. Screaming as if purging out the monster that I became. Screaming to make me die, sending me to purgatory so that I could be judged for my sins.

That's when I saw him, standing in the door frame, hand on the doorknob. His look of pure surprise piercing my entire being as he caught me in this sorry state. My heart stopped when our eyes met.

[Cath]

Part 3:

He just stood there. We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. He caught me red handed. I was a mess in more ways than one. He could see everything, my shame, my tears, the cum on my hair. I stutter, trying to convince him that it "wasn't what you think it is", begging him to forgive me. I was desperate, crying and crawling on my knees to him. He kept staring blankly, making it impossible for me to know what he was thinking about. In my pathetic state, I professed my love to him, that I was sorry for being a mess. But the only thing he saw was my dripping pussy, staining the bed and floor. He smiled at me, which made my heart skip a beat.

Maybe I was blind and it was actually a smirk, because he grabbed me by the ponytail, making me stand up. I thought he accepted me back and so I was smiling stupidly at him, with puppy eyes. He crashed his lips against mine, taking me by surprise and before I could reciprocate, he threw me on the bed. I managed to land on my hands and knees, in an inviting position. I assumed it was because he pulled down my already undone pants. I felt bliss when I felt the head of his dick rub against my most pussy lips, making them share a kiss. Without a word, he forced my head down on the mattress and took me here and there. I instantly came after feeling his tip enter me, I screamed with pleasure, crying with joy. But I was sure that he didn't see that, my face buried in his bed. He was being ruthless, hitting my cunt with his balls, spreading my walls with his mighty rod. It was like how it used to be. I waved my hand on my back, wanting him to hold it like we used to. And he did, holding my limb in an arm lock. He was ravaging me, making me happy, my heart throbbing with excitation and love for his rough treatment.

I felt once again the warm sensation of feeling useful as I was being used like a sextoy. It felt good. I loved hearing him grunt as he was thrusting inside me, I loved the wet sound of genitals crashing against each other, I loved hearing the sound of the bed creak and squeak. While he was still holding my wrist behind my back, he suddenly pulled my hair to make me stand on my elbows, I yelled his name with my already sore throat. Between a few slaps, he did muttered that he also felt something for me, grunting a "sure, 'love ya too.". I professed my love to him once again, I begged him for more, I wanted him to go faster, harder. He only responded by slapping my ass, probably leaving red marks where his palm would connect with my skin. I came after yet another slap, my body feeling warm and light, my mind edging to going blank. But this time I could distinctly hear him say "I love you.". With that, I was ready to faint from the pleasure.

That's when I saw HIM, my slutty expression quickly changed to a cold scowl. He knew that I noticed him, our eyes locking through the reflection of the window. He was rubbing his pathetic deadbeat hand against the outline of his dick in his pants. I didn't want him to enjoy the show, I didn't want him to see me like that, I didn't want him here. My screams of pleasure became those of unbridled rage. I jerked my head to properly see the useless human being, the sudden motion had surprised my friend who looked pretty confused. Normally, I'd find his expression pretty cute, but my focus was elsewhere, and he followed my stare. He swore and told him to fuck off, and so did I. And yet, my aching cunt was still getting rammed as we both expressed our wish for him to leave.

Then an intrusive thought went through my head. I got up, begrudgingly pulling out the filling meat from my dripping fuck hole. I spat some orders, wanting to humiliate the man I despised, I ordered him to pull down his pants and start jerking while sitting on the cold hard floor. Maybe afraid from my aggressiveness, he complied. Unfortunately, he didn't have the micropenis I hoped to humiliate him with, it was fairly average. That didn't stop me from calling his meat worthless, before telling my friend to fuck me in front of his deadbeat uncle. 

My friend was more than happy to resume his pounding, but not before yanking out my shirt and bras, leaving with only my crotchless panties that drenched in our fluids. Fucking me from behind while standing in front of the loser, I felt superior, goading him, saying how he'd never get to fuck any girl, not even the slut that I was at the moment. I basked in his pathetic sight, admiring my body getting ravaged, my cunt gushing out with juices and grool, my tits bouncing enticingly. I looked down on him while my hole was getting filled, rammed, destroyed. I laughed at him while he was furiously beating his pathetic meat.

It felt good to humiliate the one I despised while getting pleasured and used like a human-sized fleshlight. I told my love to move closer and to give a better look at what I would never give to that loser, my lover was more than happy to show off his fuckmeat. His idea of giving a good view was to shove my cunt on this pathetic loser's face, his nose was brushing against my pelvic region. It did make me laugh because that also meant that whenever my lover's balls slapped against my lips, they'd also come close to the uncle's face.

Not being able to the face of the I hated, I got to focus on the pleasure of being the little slut of my lover, moaning and screaming. It really felt good to fuck like we used to. I felt his cock throb, foretelling his climax. I wasn't sure if he was doing it raw, but the fact that my pussy was being able to grip him more than usual made me guess that he was bare. I didn't want to worry about that, doing it unprotected felt better anyway. My insides were already well lubricated with all the arousal and excitement, making me forget about my dry incident. I contracted my muscles as best as I could, making his explode inside, sending waves after waves of semen, so much that it already spilled out of my ravaged cave. I was pretty sure that some drop fell on the deadbeat's face, but I felt something land on my legs. That man just came on my body as well, I smirked at the thought of not even allowing him to get the pleasure of being inside of me, only to cum on my thighs and feet. I turned and finally kissed my lover who was exhausted, he quickly broke the kiss to sit on the edge of the bed.

I took a good look at the man on the floor, slightly disappointed that there were no cum stains on his face. I smirked at him again, with a finger, I scooped the leaking jizz from my abused slit, and raised the finger to my lips, licking it clean. I goaded the man once more, saying that I'd never eat his pathetic seed. I proceeded in crawling to my lover's side, fully displaying my creampied cunt, then I cleaned his meat with my tongue, making sure to show everything to the uncle. Of course, I overacted, making loud slurping noises, purring and moaning expressively, describing how much I loved a big strong dick with delicious cum.

Doing all of this to humiliate him turned me on, I enjoyed doing it in front of him, showing how pathetic he was, showing something that he'd never get from me. I began blowing my lover who groaned as I bobbed my head on his still erect dick, though his balls were probably empty. I could guess that from the load he shot deep in my being. Though it made me realize how inexperienced I was at actually sucking a fleshy penis. I compensated by blowing enthusiastically, sucking the life out of him, coating his cleaned rod with my saliva. Giving one of my sloppiest blowjobs, I probably looked like a depraved slut, which was a sensitive for my lover push my head on his meat, making me swallow the entire thing, gagging on his shaft and feeling the head in the back of my throat. He came, shooting a surprising amount of baby batter directly in my tight throat, almost choking and drowning me. I panicked, I began flailing, tapping his leg to release his grip and he complied. I violently raised my head, cough and swallowing his spunk, trying to catch my breath. I may love getting fucked roughly, but almost dying on a dick was not something I liked, so I called him an asshole for doing what he just did. He apologized before caressing the top of my head as if I was his cat.

The uncle was still  watching us, still masturbating. I groaned and rolled my eyes. I jokingly told him that I'd give him a handjob if he cleaned my messy pussy, but that idiot didn't catch the sarcasm, already crawling towards em.

Hesitantly, I looked at my lover, waiting for his reaction to what was happening.