This reminded me of bb use this however you want
he's against the wall. one boot flat, one leg thrown out, wrist over his knee. the lamp is the only source of light around you. golden, warm, the type of light that warms his skin. shorts pulled up but not zipped. not even close to zipped. he didn't bother because he's looking at you.
carpet against your cheek. shirt in two pieces. one half somewhere behind you, the other under his boot, you think. skirt rucked up around your ribs. thighs still open because closing them isn't available to you just yet. carpet burn on your left knee. bruises starting on your hips where he held you pinned down because you didn't want to be still and he didn't care. you're wet. not from you. from him. you can feel it cooling on the inside of your thigh, still leaking, thick and slow and too much, always too much. you're swollen. the ache comes in rolling pulses, and you clench around nothing again, missing him already.
you asked him to and he did. through the dark, through the corridors. no soft hands, no is this okay. just his footsteps behind you getting closer and closer until they stopped and his hand was in your hair and his mouth was on your throat and your back hit the wall so hard the plaster cracked. he fucked you against it first. then the floor. then flipped you over and did it again. you stopped counting after a while. you stopped speaking too. at some point you think you started crying and he didn't stop because you didn't want him to. you never do, and bb knows it.
now he's sitting three feet away from you in the lamplight with his shoulders loose and his mouth soft, his eyes on you like you're the most interesting thing he's ever seen. no shyness. no uncertainty. no ducked chin. just the flat satisfaction of a predator that caught what it wanted and devoured it exactly as he pleased.
your legs are shaking. you can still taste him in the back of your throat. the ceiling won't stay still no matter how hard you squint. his cum is dripping out of you onto the carpet in slow puddles and neither of you is doing anything about it.
you need to move. you will move, you think. eventually. in a minute. maybe in twelve. when your hands work again.
bb tilts his head against the wall. watches you try to blink off your daze. doesn't say a word.
