Woke up this morning with that familiar, deep ache in my pussy. The kind that reminds you exactly how you got it. Demetrius decided to take me from behind last night, with a force that left me seeing stars and screaming into the pillow. I can still feel the shape of his thick, black cock stretching my cunt, the sting of his hand coming down on my ass, the taste of my own arousal when he shoved my face into the mattress. It’s a beautiful, brutal reminder that my body serves a purpose. It exists to be claimed, to be filled, to be pushed past its limits by a man who knows exactly how to use it. I’ll be walking with this delicious soreness all day, a private trophy from a superior conqueror. Some women wear jewelry. I wear the physical memory of being properly fucked. (Mood: Sated)