August Issue

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The Wound
by Brandi Bell

The one he screams at when he is drunk never feels like she is
the same one he holds tight to his body while trying to sleep
off the hangover, though she is.

The cock that probes her cunt does not know that she is
picturing an open wound where his mouth is.  An open wound where the hurtful words flew out.  An open wound for the beer breath.

He places his mouth on her breast and she begins to cry.

The one who seems to absorb the pain that he can’t handle
anymore does not feel,
she never feels,
like she is the same one who caused the pain in the first place,
though he thinks she is.

He straddles her so that the cunt is hard to get at and
impossible to see.
He forces his cock into her that way.

He whimpers.
She whimpers.

The open wound against her breast sobs.
She wraps her arms around his head.
The friction of the cock makes her feel like a little girl:
tight and hard to penetrate; unused; unfucked; unfucked up; new.

He thrusts.  She's still. 
In his mind of her cunt is a bear claw trap.
He thrusts.  She's still. 
Her hands clawing at his back    his    chest    his    face.
He thrusts.  She's still. 
Impaled on his cock and                permanently.

She wants to spread her legs,
thrust her cunt,
open up.
She wants to fuck him back.
But his legs pin her legs to the bed,
his torso weighs down her torso,
his arms trap her head.

She moans.
He moans.

The wound against her breast becomes a mouth again and bites.
The mouth whispers, slut.
The nipple puckers, hardens.

The cunt becomes wetter because of the furious friction of the
cock trying to penetrate.
The cunt does not know that mostly he wants to hurt her right
now.

She struggles a little, still wanting her legs free, still
wanting to participate in the fucking.
The cock moves faster and further.
Her cunt, becoming wetter, blooms red and gaping and wounded in
his mind.
Wounded by him.
He fucks faster.

The one who holds her so tight never feels like the one who says
he can’t stand her, can’t stand her need, though he is.

The cunt, still forced closed by his legs, is doing everything
it can to open and let the cock in more.

All the cunt wants is that cock.
All the cock wants is to feel the red blooming gaping w/hole.

She whimpers.
He thrusts.
She moans.
He thrusts.

She whispers, my little girl hole, and he gasps
because yes that red gaping bloom is and he still wants to hurt.
The little girl hole begins to recognize this.

She whispers, fuck my little hole, because she wants him to.

He whimpers.

When he wakes after this he will not remember feeling the way
she seems to absorb his pain, though she does.
He will instead remember how trapped he feels and the need to
force himself into her and cause a blooming red gaping in his
mind.

He holds his face in her hands while he comes.
She whimpers like a little girl wanting to be fucked pure, new.