You're wearing your pride bikini.
For one thing you'd fallen out of the top very quickly, so you weren't really 'wearing' it as much as you just had it on your body. As for the bottoms?
He had taken the bottom half off and shoved them into your mouth a good few minutes ago. He'd made sure you'd soaked through them first, though - a big, girly wet spot he'd made by holding you in place and rubbing and teasing for what had felt like hours (but really had been an embarrassingly short time). Once he'd done with that off they'd come and in they went.
You let him do it. You'd let him do anything by then. You thought you'd have let him do anything before, but it was then that you knew you'd let him do anything. Whatever he wanted, it didn't matter. You were there for him. You understood it then. It made sense. It clicked.
Which is why you rolled over for him, spread your legs. He didn't need to hold your wrists together with one hand while he guided himself into you with the other, but he wanted to, so you did it for him, put them together so he could do it. It was for him, and so you did it, and you felt happy knowing he was happy.
And then you felt him inside you, and something else clicked.
This was it. This was what you were for. Filled so perfectly, like nothing else in the world. You'd imagined it, sure. Lots. Daily, really, and you'd thought you'd prepared yourself for the moment when it finally happened. You weren't ready. It was like nothing else, nothing you could have imagined. It was your place to be here, filled with him. It was your purpose.
Cunt full of a man's cock, mouth full of colours that don't really belong to you anymore, you realised you really were actually, truly, permanently fixed.
yousharknotpass
theartofmadeline
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