Day 1: Size kink
Kinktober
Peter Steele was the bassist of metal band Type O Negative, he was also the lead singer and had a beautifully deep voice, it was no surprise that girls wanted him
Well, that and the fact he was huge.
Peter was bigger than… well, everyone. At 6’8 he was a beast of a man, and he was your man.
“Cmon, pretty,” he said, his pet name for your rolling off his tongue through a devilish grin, “you can do it this time, just go slow.” He says, leaning back on the bed, stripped of his clothes.
You stood at the end of the bed, eyeing his sculpted figure carefully. You’d never been able to take all of him, you’re record was half and that was because he was pissed and forgot to be careful with you.
Today was the day, you’d promised him this morning during breakfast as he scarfed down half the kitchen. However, now that you were standing staring at him, you weren’t so sure you could do it, even though you knew how good it would feel for the both of you, you knew how much easier it would be for Peter…
You crawled over the bed and straddled his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist so he could pull you closer, kissing your lips sweetly though he still tasted of spaghetti.
His hands moved down your body and to your ass, nimble fingers slipping under you and through your wet folds. You moaned into the kiss as he pushed a finger into you, curling it into your gummy walls.
He always made sure you were good and ready for him, it might feel like he was tearing you apart but he didn’t want to hurt you. Well, hurt you more than necessary.
He pushed another finger into you, scissoring your hole and getting you used to the stretch. He kept his lips on you, tongue slipping into your mouth, lips trailing over your jaw and down your neck all while your moans echoed off the walls at his tentative hands.
He added a third finger and watched your back arch, face contorting in pleasure as his fingers made work on your hole.
“Think you’re ready for me, darling?” He asked, voice soft in your ear.
You let out a soft whine, not ready to get off his fingers. “Go slow..?” You asked, looking him in the eyes.
Peter smiled and nodded. “Of course, anything for you, darling.” He kissed your lips a last time before pulling his fingers from you. You whined at the loss, clenching around nothing and feeling empty.
It didn’t last long, though, as Peter lined his thick tip with your entrance, pushing into you in a slow thrust. He stopped every few inches to make sure you got used to him.
“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” He asked. The stretch was familiar and pleasant, he was about halfway in now.
While he always made a point to be gentle with you all he wanted to do every time he had you like this was take what he wanted. He wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be walking for at least a month, without that he’d never truly been satisfied, though he’d never tell you that.
You shook your head, eyes shut tight as you felt him deep inside you already.
“Alright, whatever you say, darling.” He said with a smiling softly. He hand his hands on your hips, holding you up and slowly lowering you down on him.
Your hand slid from his shoulder to his chest and he took it as a sign to stop, but he didn’t want to. He was so close to finally getting what he wanted and you were about to take it away… again…
It’s not that he didn’t understand, and loved you so he’d make accommodations and go slow, take it easy on you, it was just harder for some reason.
He’d been expecting this all day, waiting for this since you started dating, and here you were, stopping him.
He shifted his grip on you slightly before pushing you the rest of the way down on him.
Your eyes shot open, practically bugging out of your head. Peters eyes were glue to the bump in your belly, hand coming up and covering it easily, pushing on it gently.
“Fuck, Peter!” You cried, eyes filling with tears at the sting.
“Give it a minute.” He said, but he didn’t give you a minute, he started rolling his hips up into you, fucking you sweet and slow, but so, so deep.
He lifted you and put you onto your back, taking both your hands in one of his and holding them above your head, pinning your wrists to the mattress as he fucked you, pulling almost all the way out, leaving just the tip in, before plunging all the way back into you.
Peter watched the bulge in your stomach come and go with every thrust, mesmerized by it all while you were crying in the background.
It felt good. So good. Your thighs ached from being parted by his large frame, body squirming under him. You felt like he was tearing you in two in the best way possible.
His thrusts were fast and hard, desperate for something he’d been needing for what felt like forever.
“Feels so good, darling, so tight around me.” He mused, a low grumble in his deep voice. He brought his dark gaze to meet yours, seeing the tears running down your cheeks, hearing how you cried out for him to stop, to slow down. “Shut up and take it like a good little bitch.” He spat.
He’d never spoken to you like that, never spat in your face like you were worthless, only good to be a sex toy.
You couldn’t deny how good it felt, your body ached for more.
Late into the night, high after high. Your body was sore, cum seeping out of you. Peter had you on your knees, face shoved into the pillows to silence your screaming, although noise stopped coming out of you awhile ago, now only a dazed look on your face as drool dribbled past your bruised lips into the pillow.
Peter was far from done, he’d finally gotten to fuck you like he’d always wanted, he wasn’t gonna stop now, he couldn’t even if he tried
