The Good Fight

The Good Fight

Trish had been pissed at him since lunchtime when Michael had texted her. And the stressful week she’d had at work didn’t help things much. At this point she wasn’t even sure who was wrong or who’s fault it was. In truth they were probably both equally at fault, and both far too stubborn to apologize yet. The one thing she knew was that she still wanted to be mad. Work had been pissing her off all week, and she’d been stressed out since Monday morning. True, it was Friday night now and she should be relaxing and cooling off, but she hadn’t had the chance yet. She needed to cool off in her own time, and that wasn’t tonight.

Michael’s mood was much the same. He had been irritated all week as well, traveling extensively for work and not enough time to rest. Trish probably hadn’t deserved it, but when she snapped at him he needled at her until she got mad, and he wasn’t in any mood to let up. They were both passionate people, and that made for some spirited arguments, to say the least. But in the end they always remembered what was important—each other. And that passion translated, in the end, to some very hot make-up sex. But neither of them was in the mood to make up tonight. And one thing was certain—there would be no makeup sex.

Michael sat on the living room couch, his feet up as he clicked on his keyboard, trying to finish a draft on a manuscript. He’d tried all week but he’d been too stressed to be very productive. But he was home now, for the first time since Sunday night, and he knew he should just give them both some time to cool off, especially since Trish had just found out she had to work the next morning. Working Saturdays was never her favorite thing, especially after weeks like this one.

Too bad, he thought. They hadn’t made love since he’d left on his trip, nor had they had the time to have any fun on the phone while he was away. She’d just gotten out of the shower and sat down on the chair next to the couch, her long robe closed tightly. She turned the TV on and cranked the volume up enough that it irritated him, probably far more than it should have.

“Would you mind turning the TV down a little?” he said.

“Yes, I would,” she said coldly.

Two can play at that game, he thought. “When you get your ass up at six in the morning to go to work, make sure you keep it down so I can sleep in a few more hours,” he jabbed. She scowled at him for a few long moments, but didn’t say anything, much to his surprise. He went back to work on his laptop, trying his best to ignore the blaring TV. Another half an hour passed, and there was no way he was getting any work done. TV or not, he was just too wound up to think clearly. And the only thing that appeared to be on her mind was antagonizing him. He should probably just go into the other room, but he had a better idea. He got up from the couch after putting away his laptop, and walked over to the chair where Trish was sitting. She was leaning forward, thumbing through some mail on the coffee table. Michael squeezed into the chair behind her, so she was now sitting between his legs with her back to him.

“Something I can help you with?” she asked, not even trying to hide her irritation.

“There’s something we can help each other with, actually. You’re pissed off and tense. I’m pissed off and tense. Let’s fuck,” he said.

“Maybe you don’t understand how make-up sex works. We have to make up first, and we haven’t. And I’m sure we aren’t going to tonight,” she said.

“I didn’t say we had to make up first, so I’m not talking about make-up sex. I’m talking about pissed off sex. A good old grudge-fuck,” he said as he bit the side of her neck and reached around and thrust his hand inside her robe, rubbing her pussy over her panties.

“I’m not in the mood,” she said, pushing his hand away and moving over to the couch. She was lying, of course, though she hadn’t thought about it until he touched her. But even those few seconds had made her pussy want to explode right in her panties. And Michael was observant enough to notice that she’d let him touch her for several seconds before she said anything, which meant she had thought about it. That meant there was some room for negotiation. He got up and knelt down on the floor in front of her, forcing himself between her legs before he spoke.

“You are in the mood; I know you better than that. We haven’t had sex in a week, and we both get horny when we are stressed. And this week has been stressful as hell for both of us,” he said, then leaned forward and kissed her hard. He found her mouth open and her tongue waiting for him. But after a few moments she turned her head away, and pushed him, but not very hard. Undeterred, he swatted her hand away and bit her ear as soon as she turned her head.

“I’m still pissed at you,” she said.

“And I’m still pissed at you. That doesn’t mean I don’t love you, and it doesn’t mean we can’t fuck. So why don’t you shut your mouth and quit telling me how pissed you are, and just let me fuck you so we can both feel better,” he said, moving onto the couch and taking position behind her. She started to get up, but Michael grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back between his legs.

“We can’t fuck if you’re not in the room,” he said, biting at the back of her neck.

“Whatever. I told you—I’m not in the mood,” she said, though some of the conviction seemed to have drained from her voice, a fact that Michael noticed. He grabbed her by the hair, pulling on it to force her head to tilt to the left. Then he bit up the right side of her neck, still sitting behind her. He slid his hand inside her robe and touched her, once again over her panties.

“You’re lying,” he said.

“No; I’m not,” she said, though she wasn’t fighting him nearly as hard now.

“Then why does your pussy feel like it’s on fire?” he whispered into her ear as he rubbed her a little harder. He heard a slight moan, but she cut it off immediately.

“You’re imagining things,” she said.

“So you’re saying you’re not wet right now?” he asked, still kissing at her neck and ear. She didn’t answer. “Well?” he said at last.

“No; I’m not,” she said finally, even as she felt her pussy throb.

He slid his hand inside her panties, finding her soaked. Trish grabbed his wrist, and pulled at it for the first few seconds, but Michael had anticipated that and started rubbing her clit. He felt her resolve diminish. Though she still held his wrist, she wasn’t pulling anymore.

“Not wet, huh Trish? You’re usually not this wet until you’ve come once or twice,” he said. Still holding her hair, he turned her head to the side and kissed her hard. If she fought him, he didn’t notice. “Well since you’re not wet and not horny then I’m sure you’re not going to come are you?” he said as he started rubbing her clit faster.

“There’s no way I’m going to come for you,” she said, panting slightly. She was still trying to resist him, though she knew there was no truth in what she’d just said. She’d be lucky to make it another sixty seconds.

“Good, then fight it—don’t let yourself come. Be a stubborn little bitch,” Michael said, licking at her ear.

“I won’t,” she said.

“Oh you’ll come—and you’re going to come twice as hard once I force you to,” he said.

“Fuck you; no I won’t,” she said, trying to keep her moans from getting out.

“Ohhhh, I bet you’re getting close now. Don’t you want to scream?” he asked, goading her.

“Ass---hole,” she said, barely able to contain her screams.

“Mmmmm, it’s getting harder to hold it, isn’t it, baby? Don’t you dare let yourself lose control and come,” he said. He knew she was close now, because she let go of his wrists and put each of her palms face down on the couch, bracing herself. She knew she couldn’t hold it much longer, if she’d even delayed it at all. Her pussy was soaked and burning in his hand. He reached around with his other hand and untied her robe, pulling it open, exposing her naked breasts. Her nipples were rock hard, and she didn’t need to touch them to know that. What she did know was the second he touched them, she would have no choice but to come.

He generally touched her nipples very gently at first, so it surprised her when his first touch was something much different. He pinched hard on her nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, then moved quickly to the other one and did the same thing. He had barely touched the second one when her pussy erupted in his eager hand.

“You fucking bastard,” was all she could manage. She hadn’t made a sound until now, managing to hold every scrap of sound inside. Not a single scream or a moan of any kind, not even allowing herself to breath hard. That made her orgasm that much more jarring, and more potent. She didn’t want to give in—to come. That meant that she had lost control. She had been in control until now, but that was over. She felt suddenly vulnerable as she felt the torrent explode from inside her. There was no semblance of control anymore—she screamed.

“That’s it, come for me you little bitch,” Michael said, yanking back on his hair to keep her thrashing body under control the best he could.

Her body thrashed violently in Michael’s arms, but he held onto her tight, his free hand wrapped around her chest to keep her still. She kicked against the floor, her hands grabbing at the couch as her body convulsed in pleasure, Michael’s hand working her clit perfectly, not letting up for even a moment. Trish felt her pussy squeeze impossibly tight, then squirt inside her panties. If he hadn’t been holding her, she’d have fallen onto the floor by now, but he held her fast. The first orgasm had barely completed when she went straight into another one, Michael unwilling to let her pussy recover for even a second. She was panting when she finished with the second, and Michael got out from behind her, sitting next to her now. Trish grabbed him by the back of the neck and forced him onto the floor in front of her.

“You wanted my pussy wet; now it is. Eat it. And you better not miss a single fucking drop,” she said sternly. Michael pulled her panties down and off, then pushed her legs open forcefully. She pushed her thighs against his hands as he did, resisting him. He slapped the inside of her thighs. She gasped and his mouth was on her instantly, devouring her soaking, wet pussy.

Michael closed his eyes as he tasted her. Those were two of the most intense orgasms she’d ever had, and all he could think about was making her have another one right in his mouth. “Who’s in control now?” she asked, grabbing at the back of his head and pulling him harder into her. “Eat that sweet little pussy and make me come in your mouth,” she ordered. A moment later she felt a finger push into her pussy, and another into her ass. She tightened down on them at first, but quickly relaxed and welcomed them in, Michael’s tongue and lips working quickly on her hard, sensitive clit.

“That’s it—eat it you bastard,” she said, throwing her head back and closing her eyes. Michael felt her come running down onto her ass as he fingered it, working her faster now. “If you make me come, maybe I’ll let you fuck me,” she said, not letting him pull away to speak. “Yes, you like my come all over your face, don’t you?” she asked, grinding her pussy against his mouth, feeling her orgasm about to hit her. Michael felt it approaching. He loved eating her pussy, and he knew how to feel her body and listened to everything it was telling him while he tasted her. He picked up the pace at the last second, the orgasm coming on quickly and powerfully. Her hand dropped away from his head now, as she once again clasped at the couch, an outlet for the raging energy that filled her body.

Michael didn’t slow his pace as she came, even when she squirted on him, her come hitting him in the neck and upper chest as his finger fucked her quickly. Her screams filled the room as her hips gyrated on the couch, but Michael was never shaken free, unwilling to let a single drop of her go to waste. He ate her all the way through it, until her body went limp, and her hips moved slowly against his mouth as she tried to catch her breath. Michael moved up and kissed her. She tried to pull away and turn her head, but he grabbed held her face in place with his hands and kissed her anyway. She stopped fighting when she tasted the sweetness of her come on his lips.

She grabbed him as soon as she was done and pushed him onto his back on the couch, yanking his shorts off without saying a word, and taking his cock between her lips. It wasn’t long before he was hard inside her wet, skillful mouth, her hand working his cock as she sucked at him.

“I think it’s time to fuck you,” he said finally, after he’d taken the time to watch her suck him. He loved watching her. Loved watching her soft lips and sensual tongue attack his cock. She loved to suck his cock as much as he loved eating her pussy, and that made it incredibly hot for him to watch, as well as feel.

“I’m not sure I’m going to let you,” she said. He grabbed her forcefully by the shoulders and pulled her too him, kissing her passionately before he replied.

“I’m not sure I’m asking,” he said. He pushed her over, face down on the couch but still on her knees on the floor. She pushed up on the couch with her arms, as if she was going to get up. “Still some fight left in you huh?” He shoved her back down, reached over and grabbed the belt from her bathrobe and tied her hands behind her back. He took his cock in his hand and pushed the head against her pussy. He closed his eyes as the sensation overwhelmed him, then pushed all the way into her in one forceful stroke. She moaned in response, her wet pussy offering no resistance. He leaned over her back and bit her shoulder, then reached around with his hand and grabbed her neck from the front, giving it a firm squeeze as he started to fuck her.

“Now you just be good girl and take that cock—got it? Be as pissed at me as you want,” he said, giving her throat a little squeeze for emphasis while he simultaneously pulled back on her hair with his other hand. With her arms tied behind her, she had no leverage to resist even if she wanted to. With his hand on her neck and pulling her hair, there was nothing she could do. She was completely helpless, and that excited her. She closed her eyes as she felt his hard cock move in and out of her pussy, slowly at first. She was tight and she squeezed him inside of her. Eventually he wanted it harder. He released her throat and hair, putting both of his hands on her hips. She knew what was going to happen next. All of the frustration and stress was going to get worked out of them both in the next few minutes. He wasn’t just going to fuck her—he was going to pound her, hard and mercilessly until they both came so hard that they forgot what they were mad about, or just didn’t care anymore.

He spanked her ass as he fucked her now. It stung—a lot, and that excited her too. Each time he hit her, it made her pussy squeeze down harder on his cock, which made the sensation of him fucking her that much more intense. Grabbing her hips, he pulled her back hard against his cock for each thrust, the sound of their bodies slapping together making both of them hotter and hotter.

Michael pulled out of her, grabbed her by the hair and forced her down to take his cock in her mouth. “Suck me—taste your sweet come,” he said, fucking her mouth before she had a chance to talk. As she sucked him, Michael could see she was rubbing her pussy, so he didn’t want to make her suffer for long. He made her suck him for only a minute or so before he put her back on the couch, flat on her back, and shoved his cock back into her, slapping the insides of her thighs to make her spread them wide.

“Spread them you bitch,” he said, grabbing her throat and squeezing, pinning her down against the couch. Michael loved the way she looked right now. Pinned on her back, her hard nipples standing up straight, her legs spread wide and his glistening cock sliding in and out of her beautiful pussy. He leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips, feeling her tongue meet his, her mouth cool from panting.

“I love you,” he said as he bit at her neck and ear. “And I’m sorry,” he said as he pushed deeper into her once again.

“I love you too,” she said, her eyes rolling back into her head as he pounded into her again and again. “Just come inside me—please come in my pussy,” she said.

“I will, my love,” he said, putting her legs up on his shoulders, leaning forward and bracing his arms on the couch. He had all the leverage now, and Trish had no choice but to lay back and take it—hard. He drove into her mercilessly now, knowing that he was not going to stop until both of them came. Trish tugged at her nipples with one hand, and reached down to rub at her clit with the other, which always made Michael hot to see.

“You have to come soon—I can’t hold it any longer,” she said.

“Don’t hold it baby; I have to come now!” he screamed. He tried to watch her face. He loved to see the pleasure on her face when she came for him, but the first few moments of his orgasm, he couldn’t even keep his eyes open, let alone focus on anything. The first throbbing, pulsing blast was always the most intense part. When it hit him, cradled deep inside her tight pussy, all the stress and frustration of the week exploded from inside him, and his cock pumped its come into her. She was so wet that he was certain if they weren’t screaming he’d be able to hear is cock sliding in and out of her.

With her fingers manipulating her clit quickly, along with Michael pounding into her, her orgasm was every bit as intense as his, if not more so. They had been getting stronger each time tonight, and this one continued the progression. She went completely silent at first, her orgasm so intense that it overloaded her body and she couldn’t even scream out. But he kept fucking her—kept pounding and hammering at her pussy—and eventually her body demanded a release of energy. When she screamed, it was ferocious and primal. She could feel his cock pulsing inside her as her pussy milked it dry while he screamed. After he was finished, he toppled onto the couch next to her, while both of them panted and recovered. Once they’d sufficiently recovered, Michael took Trish in his arms and pulled her close. She lay her head down on his shoulder and he threw a blanket over them.

“Still mad?” Michael asked.

“Not a bit. You?” she asked, smiling up at him.

“Hell no,” he said. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The End