"Don't resist. Don't talk." I had just pounced on her, wrapping one arm and one leg over her, pressing my hard cock against her thigh, and gripping her against my chest as she tensed up at my words. I wait to see what she does. She says nothing and does not resist. I feel her relax. I am a predator and she is prey. On a scale of one to ten, my predatory urge is at level ten. If she resists, my conscious will would contest my urge, and it would win. I am not a monster, but she doesn't know me well enough to be certain of that. She doesn't resist and that renders my conscience irrelevant. She unknowingly gives my primal urge the opportunity to satisfy my carnal hunger.
Some men wake in a foul mood. I wake in a feral mood. As a predatory beast awakes in hunger for prey to consume, I seek a pussy to plunge into. It happens almost every morning, but it's so much more intense when I'm in bed with the object of my satisfaction so close. I had watched her as she got out of bed, slipped on her panties from the night before and went to the bathroom.
I had seen that sight, that particular combination of curves, that automatically slides up the intensity of my animalistic desire. Hips, thighs, knees, calves, ankles, and of course, that distinctly feminine vertical line, until her panties covered it. When I saw the visual cues and the triggering clues, the appetite for orgasmic release had to be satisfied.
Her surrender within my embrace is a first for us. She doesn't know what to expect. Yesterday was our first date. She invited Dr. Jekyll to dinner and surprised him with her own version of Ms. Hyde. But that is another story. She awoke with Mr. Hyde, the me she met upon first laying eyes on me. The me who scared her and triggered her instinctive prey awareness to protect her from me. The me that earned his way into her cunt this morning by accepting her behavior from the previous evening. She might not agree with that, once she has experienced this me, but it will be better to know that sooner, rather than later.
I had seen her from behind as she approached the elevator I was trying to catch on my way to my first day at a new job. I was running late and had not had time to take the edge off my morning libido by the usual means, that being a quick wank. So I'm sure I had lust in my eyes as she glanced my way before stepping into the elevator. The door was closing when my hand slapped against the safety panel as I pursued her. It opened to reveal her, tucked into the corner with a frightened rabbit look.
I smiled and said, "Good morning.", while backing the intensity of my focus on her from ten down to about four. I wasn't going to pounce on her in an elevator. The pursuit was over, but it had been fun. She has a figure worth pursuing. I'm sure that most men would agree with that. She has a face to match, with bright intelligent eyes that betray her state of wariness.
She smiled a relieved smile and returned my greeting. Her focus on me felt like about level nine, much higher than warranted for someone she decided was not an imminent threat. She either liked being pursued or she was impressed with me, or perhaps both.
Twenty minutes later, I was being introduced to Claire by my new boss. This was disastrous for my hopes concerning her. I didn't need the complications of an interoffice romance, especially one that was likely to go bad when my morning behavior became known. I had just rearranged my life, moving to a new town and a new job, after a breakup with my first serious girlfriend. One of the reasons we parted was my morning aggression. Since a quick wank in the morning would level me out as Dr. Jekyll for the day, I vowed not to display my level ten focus to Claire again, despite the apparent interest she had shown.
As we worked together over the next few weeks, we gradually became comfortable with each other. My feral awareness of her usually remaining around level two. Eventually she asked me to dinner at her place on a Friday night. I was excited about this, because I was through the grieving period for my ex-girlfriend and becoming interested in ending my self-imposed celibacy. And because I was ready to trust Claire.
It was a strange evening. One where I, for reasons of my own, accepted the role of prey although never rising above a level of four in feral awareness. She, for reasons I won't mention in this story, has predatory urges at certain times, which we entertained on that occasion. I did enjoy a substantially higher carnal awareness of her, but as a passive entity. But that's the other story that I mentioned earlier. This is the story of her second meeting with Mr. Hyde.
The intensity of my focus on her now at ten, I grasped a breast and found my way to her pink nipple. I can't see it now, but I remember its color from the previous night and, as I feel it between my finger and thumb, I use that memory to assist in hardening my prick. With my other arm -- the one connected to the shoulder I am lying on -- I pull her panties aside from her cunt and slide a finger between its lips. It is wet enough, a good thing because I do not wish to cause her pain and I do not wish to take the time to coax her natural lubricant from her.
I guide my hard cock into her parted lips and drive with steady pressure until it is fully in. It feels so good to once again sheath my weapon in warm, wet flesh. I stab her repeatedly with it, varying my thrusts to maximize my pleasure. The friction between us is perfect for my purposes. I feel the approach to the point of uncontrollable release and I speed toward that goal, feasting on the sensations that feed back to my brain from the nerves in my blunt spike. I explode into her as my hips slap into her ass with such force that the bed rocks against the wall. I inject more and more of my potion into her, feeling the decrease in friction that results from it. I spend my last few thrusts in that haze of awareness, that nearly comatose feeling of well-being that comes from no other experience. I relax then, my syringe slowly shrinking inside her. My urge to prey on her is gone.
"Wow! That's it?"
"It was really intense, but um..."
"I know... You didn't come. That's okay. Some women think that men should wait for them, but that means we don't ever get to do what we sometimes really feel like doing. Do you think it's fair that a man should always wait on a woman's pleasure? Where's the equality in that?"
My response perplexes her, as I thought it would when I said it. I gently continue fondling her nipple. She seems to enjoy this and squirms a bit as my cock slips from her cum-drenched slit. "It just makes me feel... used."
"Well, that seems accurate enough. I used a part of you to satisfy a desire. I hope you don't feel ill-used? I really enjoyed what I just did. I often wake in the morning with one thought on my mind. I'm not sure if I can even call it a thought. It's more of an imperative urge. I have to come. That urge was especially strong this morning after seeing you wiggle that beautiful ass into your panties. Thank you for letting me satisfy that urge within you."
This exasperates her. "So when you wake like this, there's no foreplay and intercourse is over, just like that?
"Intercourse isn't over, Claire. It's just moved into a temporarily verbal phase, while I rest a bit. That was just the beginning of foreplay. Being used by you last night was just a prelude to great things for me. I'm hoping you'll feel the same way in a while."
She rolls to look at me. It's a hopeful look. "You're strange, Charles."
I chuckle. "I had dinner last night with a very strange woman and this morning she calls me strange. Let's be strange together."
I lean over and take her nipple in my mouth. Her breath quickens.
"Mmmmm. That feels good."
I move my hand down to her mound and her legs part. I slip my hand beneath her panties and past her trimmed bush. My middle finger passes down into the thick froth around her freshly-fucked pussy, getting thoroughly coated before coming back up to circle her clit.
"Mmmmmmmmmm. Even better."
I crawl down and remove her panties, lift her leg over me, and put my face up to her slit.
"Are you going to...?"
I stick my tongue out and probe deep into her, tasting our warm commingled flavors.
"Ohhhh. No man has ever licked his cum from me before. This is so deliciously naughty."
I raise my tongue between her parted folds until it finds the tiny nub. I stab at it and circle it with my tongue as her hips begin to gyrate. She is thrusting her tiny sword at my tongue and they continue to fence as she gets closer and closer to the release that is now unrelated to my desire for my own climax. I feel her at the edge and I push her over by sucking hard on her clit as my tongue continues to lash it with firm strokes. My chin becomes coated as she writhes through her climax. I slow my strokes as I send little shudders of ecstasy through her. Down and down and further down comes the intensity of my licks against her clit until I detect that any more is the enemy of enough.
"Oh my fuckin' god, Charlie. If that's what being used by you is going to be like, sign me up for more."
I crawl up next to her and kiss her. She licks my face.
"How about I take you to dinner tonight, Claire. I know a good steak house."
"I don't think I'll be in the mood for beef again so soon, but I'll split a pizza with you if you promise to spend the night and take a peek at my ass in the morning."
I think I'm in love.
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