Angry Sex

Angry Sex

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Vengeance is a dish served best with sex as two lovers learn the consequences of their betrayal.


Vengeance is a dish served best with sex as two lovers learn the consequences of their betrayal.


Submitted: October 23, 2018

A A A | A A A


Submitted: October 23, 2018



Angry Sex


Angry much?  One might ask knowing what I have been forced to bear.  The laughing eyes and wicked tongues having way too much fun at my expense. 

Bitter, too?  Sure, wouldn’t you be if what you have been searching for all your life turned out to be a ruse?  Or you the buffoon?

So let me ask this instead…

Have you ever been in love before? 

Oh, don’t snort or turn up your nose.  I’m serious!

No, I don’t refer to the selfish kind of love that reflects at you in a gilded mirror or the kind between you and your parents.  The sort of love I mean is the one beyond yourself.  It gives life meaning because you want to share in the world with that one special person at your side.  You know the one… who cares for you and seeks out your well-being before their own.  That one person is there for you no matter what, encouraging you, believing in you, regardless of seeing the worst that you are.  Even in those shadowy, scary places, you are loved anyway. 

Have you ever felt this sort of love that knows no limit, is always ready to apologize but issue no pity?  A real love that fills you up and makes you fly while making you tear up because without it you wouldn’t be alive?

I have.  Surprised?  I know; so am I.

By far the most immersive, irrational feeling at the same time this love is to me.  Intense, beautiful, frightening, and sad as well.  It leaves you vulnerable, totally unsettled.  It also makes you strong enough to leap mountains. 

I never thought any of this would ever happen to me.  A few years out of college, I owned a modest cottage.  I worked, yet would not call it a career.  The money made supplied my immediate needs for survival.  I was content with the progression of my life. 

Nagging at the back of my mind though was that thing called love.  One by one, I witnessed my friends find it.  When would it happen to me?  It has been a stranger avoiding me for a long time.  I’ve never run from anything. 

Broke my share of hearts, too, along my journey.  My exes said I was cut off, a heartless bitch to leave them that way.  Dad claimed that I was too cynical for love.  He was wrong.  My brothers, on the other hand, were convinced that I was too smart to believe the lie.  I only wished I had been.  Then again maybe not. 

Let me explain.

For me, it sounds cliché, but no less true.  It all started, in essence with you.  My palms sweated the moment our eyes met across the bar where you worked.  Hell, I sweated everywhere in the cute little dress I wore.  The prized club clothes guaranteed a grinding tool for me to use.  Rhinestone straps glittered at the shoulder, thin black material dipped in the back but lower in the front.  It fit me like a glove many male hands wanted to wear.  Oh, all the vital areas were covered while exposing lots of tanned young skin, but that’s the way this party girl rolled with my friends.  All eyes on us, or more accurately on me, I searched for someone.  No one measured up, until you.

My heart raced to the beating drum of the music in the club where I met you tending bar.  When off your shift, you would join the fray.  I loved the way you swayed.  In time to the music, you let it flow through you.  Body thin, limber but muscular, too.  You loved showing your stuff in your hot street moves.  The skinny jeans could not hide that fat bulge at your crotch.  Even at rest, you sported all the maleness I had to catch.  Were you the bad boy my dad warned me about?  You were that and more.  The ultimate to be sure. 

Your reputation for loving and leaving preceded you.  The lady killer.  Smooth talker.  Great fucker.  That was you.

Girls were never the same after a visit from you.  Some could not handle it when you were through.  One leaped a bridge and drowned in the river.  Another drank to excess and crashed her car into yours.  Now the last was more creative in how she tried to stab you.  She remained locked away for five to ten; who could say? 

I knew all about you.  Met so many like you in the past.  Never impressed me much your devil-may-care lifestyle or riding it close to the cusp.  The sloppy, almost careless look of the biker you mistook.  I preferred preppy boys that learned how to treat a girl they adored.  Opened the door, pulled out the seat, and they mastered well how to greet with flowers or a sweet.

At least, I thought those boys were the ones for me.  That changed when you pulled me close.  The way you smelled and then that sexy grin!  Damn!  Days after the encounter on the dance floor, I had been in a daze.  How you smiled at me like you knew what I was thinking.  How strong your arms felt around my waist like they belonged there.  Then you dipped me, the thrill, as I lost my breath.  When you brought me back up against your chest, you stole a kiss!

You were so unpredictable and impossible like sin!  God!  I was so wet!  Although I shoved you away, I was ruffled to the core of me.  I panted wanting to be free.

“I’ll have you, little miss!” you called after me, making the very earth seem to shake or maybe it was just me.

“Never!” I denied trying to preserve grace and raced for the door to breathe fresh air while cooling my flushed face.

Little did I know, it was already too late.  You found my weakness, the chink in my good girl armor.  Days after this happenstance, I could not stop thinking of you.  The sexy way you smelled still caught in my nose luring me close.  The sin of that grin that damned me.  The way it felt to melt in your arms.  I had no way to deflect this in alarm.

“Don’t do it, girl,” my BFF Juliana warned with the wave of her finger.

“I know.  I know,” I would constantly say but think on it anyway.

At night, I touched myself while thinking of you.  The way you moved.  That’s why I loved that club to watch you in action, taking girls home wanting to be the only one captured.  I could pretend all I wanted.  I was thoroughly smitten.

When next we met, you would not let me escape.  Your body caged mine in the back room of the club where you worked.  You stole more than kisses.  You engaged in a different dance that had me panting against the wall while standing tall with you between my legs tasting what you caused to leak.  It was not the first nor the last time I came so hard wondering when the staff would catch us. 

When you shared your cock at last up my eager snake pit while squeezing my small tits, I embraced the start of love at last.  No other thought could surpass the ramming speed of you claiming me.  I just kept cumming, a trembling mass.  I even let you take my ass! 

My girlfriends told me not to do it.  Stay away from you.  You were a wayward influence.  Bad to the bone.  One I wanted to get alone.  Those eight inches I heard whispers about I sought to own.  Sure, I pretended to be immune to the grind of your hips against mine on the dance floor with our clothes on.  I understood at your place they would come off and a different pace would ensue where I could fuck you all night.

The days turn to weeks and weeks to months.  Our love grows as our appetites are sated.  You never feel this before you implore as you move into my house.  You promise to forsake all others.  You only need me to fuel you.  You accept we are meant to be.

However, a year later doubt creeps and I am suspect.  You never love me the way I love you.  There are other pink canoes you never stop rowing.  On the sly, they fill in on the nights we can’t be together because of my travel for work.  My friends warn me that you lie and cheat because of that insatiable meat.  Girls like me let you get away with it, forgetting all the shit you put us through only to make our boxes soggy with dew.

I even ask you, point blank more than once, “Is it true?”

“What, babe?” you coyly grin knowing all along you aren’t faithful.

“Are you cheating on me?” I ask refusing to be distracted.  I have that tickle of something amiss; I can even feel it in our kiss.  Why stay with me if you desire someone else?!  I just want the truth.  Out with it!

“Now I told you before, and I’ll tell you again," you declare, "Stop listening to your jealous friends!  I do flirt, but that’s my job.  I sell drinks and work for tips.  However, every night I come home to you.”

Once again, you have your ways to keep me dazed.  You flip me on my back and make sure I am wet.  Laying next to you, I always am.  Your cum gun is what I crave, but even more than that, my lonely heart needs the commitment of yours.  Didn’t you get it?  Of course not, the friction between my thighs you do and attend with such energy.  Stupid me; I cave.

“You think I would jeopardize what I have with you?  And give up this tasty pink slit, too?”  You shake your head and take the dive just as you have for a thousand times.  I let you dig and bring me joy, but I feel empty the moment you dumped your cum.  I know you are on the run.  The truth you leave at a distance to your nature in infidelity with your skin flute.

So here we are at the crossroads as they say.  Do we go forward or do we move away?  My friends tell me to drop you and find a better day.  I say without you I just may.  First things first and without delay…

On my phone I flash the video I took of you and my best friend.  You both hump like rabbits having a great time until you collapse into a restful sleep.  I guess you were feeling reckless, thinking I have gone to my sister’s for the week.  Oh, no.  It is merely a ploy because I know you use Juliana as your toy.

You moan, “Where is she?”

I offer a creepy smile. “No need to worry about her only my wrath.”

“Crazy bitch, get me outta this!” you shout and thrash spread-eagle on our bed.

I shake my head.  “Nope; not yet.  I’ve already dealt with our friend.”

Your eyes widen, wondering what I mean.  Only then realizing your bedmate is gone.  “What have you done to her?” you muffle around the ball gag in terror.

“Nothing that she didn’t deserve,” I wager.

Yep, I’ve already dealt with her betraying ass.  It’s no wonder Juliana tries to dissuade me from staying with you because she's fucking you.  How long has it been happening?  She confesses from the very beginning!

Well, she’ll think twice about sleeping with anyone else’s man when I eventually release her from where I blindfold, gag and shackle her to a pipe above her head.  She hangs out in the basement for the time being.  Much joy I take in whipping her naked ass red with a wooden paddle for daring to fuck my man in my own bed. 

Juliana’s lucky not to be dead, but that slut seems to like my rough treatment.  She moans and cries like the submissive whore she is.  Even giving her the crop to her jugs and her meat curtains, Juliana withers and shudders while begging for me to stop.  I know she does not mean it.  So much juice drains out of her sore tunnel that she stains the carpet.  Expected after I shove the 10-inch dildo up there with a fuck machine.  Juliana passes out after an hour of me watching its relentless attack of her snatch.  Such a just revenge to suit the crime!  She is, after all, my oldest and best friend.  Sigh. 

Now on to the love of my life, the man who steals my heart.  You think to keep me in the dark or make me the fool, but I don’t think you really understand.  I was not always the good girl.  I have a secret, too. 

You bring the dark out in me again.  Do me wrong, and the sadistic bitch comes out to play and to make those who hurt her pay.  I cannot stop now.  I’m on a roll.  My craving for action since being thoroughly warmed up arrives.  Oh, how I have plotted and planned for the opportunity to work with my hands. 

The same shackles I get for Juliana I have for you, don’t you see?  Attached securely to the metal bedpost, you can’t get free.  No use in moaning to speak for now the punishment begins.  You will learn what it is to suffer in your sin!

“How would you like it if I filled my Venus flytrap with another penis?  Hmm?” I ask you with a grin of my own.  I pull on my rubber gloves at the widening of your little blue globes.  From the nightstand drawer, I pull out the Bengay.  Only a small dollop do I put on my small finger.  Next, I rub it on your cock and balls where you shout curses at how it burns like a hot poker. 

Ignoring this and your terrific struggling, I have begun using rubber bands collected from the mailman to tie taut around your dick and balls.  Despite the tingling burn you can do nothing about, you whimper as your meat grows on the spot.  You moan at the rough handling given.  I snap the elastic bands watching you jump every time I do it. 

“No comment on that either?” I say feeling most gay at the moment.  I remove my gloves with care so that I don’t get any of that nasty smelly ointment on me.  A man enters the bedroom bigger than you.  Black latex covers him for head to toe.  The exceptions are the holes for his eyes, nose, mouth, and junk.  Focused solely on me, his mouth though is busy licking his flushed lips.

“Perfect,” I purr at how big he is compared to you.  His shoulders are broad where yours are more narrow.  I bet he could crush my petite body in a bear hug if he wants.  I’m only five foot seven with these spiky five-inch heels on.  Nonetheless, he will never lay a finger unless I bid it so. 

At one point when knee deep in this femdom lifestyle, this fine specimen of male flesh used to be mine.  All six feet three inches of him.  Not one to burn bridges in any relationship before you, I call him up.  Wouldn’t you know it that he has been hoping that I will call someday?  This strong man all but begs to show up that very second knowing what I have in mind.  However, I plan every letter of my vengeance, you see?  Everything falls into place better than I can imagine. 

“Such a good slave,” I say yanking and pulling on my slave’s cock.  My eyes stare up at him with my pleased smile.  I love the power I have over him and how willing he is to give it to me.  His eyes ache with the desire to please me.

A chair is placed in front of the bed for you my audience of one.  I sit in it.  Both my slave and I turn to the side so that you can see how I play with my slave’s fat meat.  I glance at you looking stunned still while I handle this other man that is much thicker than you.  I remember well the nights my slave stretches me so good in our sessions.  I will know it again very soon, I reckon! 

My slave moans at my touch.  “I love the feel of your soft hands, Mistress.”

Music to my ears that starts softly in whimpers.  I want more.  The buildup before the crescendo. 

“Tell me more, slave.”  I jerk his massive cock up in frequent wrist movements.  No lube is necessary with him leaking pre-cum with each rough jerk.  I do have some in reach to make it messy.  An aromatic edible oil which is a favorite of mine I pour over my hand to help the best glide.  I fist his cock using both hands and clasp along his responsive shaft.  I tug and wring him faster than I have like I become a human shake weight.

“I love you, Mistress,” the slave breathes with his head back, and he trembles with the struggle not to come with all the hard work I put into shoving him right there. 

I turn to you whom I have been so careless to give my heart.  A huge grin covers my face.  With a long crop, I slap your swollen meat.  Muffled curses burst around the ball gag.  As I predict, your cock does stand there. 

Here I hold real love at my hands.  Here is devotion that I understand.  There are no lies between my slave and me.  Ever.  Can’t you see? 

There is truth in pain as I twist and tug on my slave’s balls.  Not so much that I injure him.  That is a mistake for a rookie.  Not for me.  I know well what I’m doing.  My slave trusts that I comprehend how far and how much pain or pleasure he can withstand.

“Ahhh!” my slave cries in a whimper.  “Thank you, Mistress.  May I have more of your attention?”

The strokes of my hand love his big nuts as I massage them.  “What is the safe word, slave?”

“Mercy, Mistress.”

“Good boy,” I praise.

My slave grows in my hand.  The skin of his pole is tight and veiny.  Just the way I like it as I slap it against his latex thigh.  He groans with the additional slaps made.  I rake my pointy nails all over the shaft.  I even stab the stiletto points deftly between his little lips.  I remember well how he loves feeling the tip. 

“Ahhh, the burn,” my slave groans in ecstasy, “It burns so good, Mistress!”

My mouth licks the head before sucking on the mushroom helmet in reward as he shudders.  He can feel the jewelry in my tongue.  I get it re-pierced just for him knowing how well he likes when I force the small ball within his tiny hole.  My slave tries to stay still.  It pleases me how well he recalls his training. 

He does not move his hands from his side.  The old rule is that he may not touch unless I invite it.  More than most, my slave loves the sweet pain I can dish upon him.  But first…

His cock is purplish red in the abuse I deal it.  So hard and full of blood it is.  So beautiful.  The veins protrude like mighty scars.  His nut sack is swollen even as I wrap the testies in rawhide string and apply pressure in the tug downward to make him sing. I stand to my feet and push him into the seat.  I’m dying to play with his thick meat. 

My legs I open wide to straddle my stud and ride I do, giving his cock a run through.  Grinding on his hardness, I nearly come with each wild romp.  I throw off my dress and beneath I’m already wet.  The corset holds my tummy in but makes my boobs pop out and be noticed as I give them a spin.  I feed one to my slave who nurses with hunger loving this game.

“Rip my panties off,” I order when I stand beside him.

Eager and without hesitation, my slave does, bringing the lace to his face.  “Mmmm, you smell of fresh flowers, Mistress.”

“So you like it?  My pussy?” I say sweetly before I utter in sharp command.  “Then say it!”

He nods enthusiastically.  “I love your pussy, Mistress.”

I take the torn black lace from his hands, give it a sniff, and then say, “Prove it.  Open your mouth.”

Obediently he does.


He does.

In go my panties to my obedient slave's waiting mouth.  “Good boy.  Now tell me how they taste.”

He groans with his eyes rolling back. 

I straddle him and shove him deeply.  I can feel his balls against me. 


“How does it feel?”

“Mmmm,” my slave moans and still does not bring his hands to touch me.  Instead, he grips the chair as I ride him with flare. 

I clutch on to my slave’s broad shoulders.  “Yes!  Oh, your big cock feels so good!  Own this pussy, but don’t you dare cum!  If you do, I’ll punish you!”

Arching my back, I glance at you whom I foolishly give my crack.  “Oh, he’s so much better and bigger than you.”  Turning my head, I face the man in glossy black latex.  “Oh, my slave, I’ve missed you!”

You stare at me stunned, maybe in anger, but your cock grows hard despite the pain.  Little do you know, this is just the beginning.  I laugh free of my prison.  This is the only love I need as I burn in the hell I bring. 

Grinding, hopping and rocking, I take from my slave all I’ve been wanting.  My ass slams down for some good grounds before I squirt at the work I have done.  Relishing a release that feeds my need, I dismount from my slave’s lap and remove my panties.  I toss them at your face.  My slave is near the boiling point, ready to blow, but not until I say so.

“Tight, wet fuck, Mistress.  Please, oh please, let me cum,” my slave begs in eager pants.

Chuckle I do, before I command, “On the floor back against the chest.  I have not finished with your mouth yet.”

Scrambling to perform my will, he waits, looking up at me with hunger still.  I climb on the chest at the foot of the bed where his neck cranes back and I straddle his head.  “Now be a good boy and show me how much you love this pussy.  Lick every nook and cranny.”

My slave does as bid while I watch you squirm even as I play and whip your little worm with the long crop.  It grows as I rock on my slave’s face.  Now his tongue moves at great pace.  He sucks my clit.  The slave licks every crevice.  His tongue dives into my hole making me cum before he is told. 

I will forgive him this being so bold in his eagerness to anticipate my needs.  He does know how to please and when to break the rules.  Still, the slave licks through my tremors and groans.  The tip of my own tongue teases my nipples to your widened eyes that despise. 

Your cock stands, and you groan unable to help it.  I bet the skin along your throbber burns from the Bengay, and the elastic bands that restrain as they cause pain.  I laugh with the slap of my crop to your twig and berries and hear your yelp as you stare daggers at me. 

“Don’t fear the reaper, honey.  This is the bed you made,” I say with my baleful gaze.  “For breaking my heart, lying and cheating, you’re gonna get more than a beating.  There’s no hell like a woman scorned, and you’re gonna find out clear into the next morn!”


© Copyright 2019 Amy F. Turner. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:




















Other Content by Amy F. Turner

More Great Reading

Popular Tags