The first thing I heard when I awakened each morning on my favorite Paradise Island was the ocean waves splashing to shore. I would curl up to B and enjoy the feel and scent of him. There was no plan to our days-just the task of pleasuring each other.

One morning, B was not in bed when I opened my eyes. I hugged his pillow to me and inhaled his scent then stuffed it between my legs as if I were in fact straddling him.

I knew that he was out running. I wondered why he didn't wake me to accompany him, but I knew. We'd spent all night fucking and then talking. He insisted that we talked about my feelings. He wanted to know who he was to me. Was he just another sordid affair? Why do I seem so detached (there's that word again) even when I appear to give him my all? How is it that he can take my body whenever he wants it, fucks me in all the ways he dare imagines, yet I ask for nothing? How is it that there seems nowhere to go from where we are? Is this it? Is this all I want from a relationship?

Isn't that enough? What else is there? I thought.

"I like you intensely. I starve for you. You are a thirst I cannot seem to quench. Do you feel the same?" he asked.

I've already told him that we're where we need to be. What I do not express in words, I show in attitude, but I understand that people need to have it said sometimes. We like to hear the words just to hear them.

"I like you and enjoy you. I have the greatest respect for you. I share my body and thoughts with you because I like to. I tell you of my plans for the future. I tell you of my dreams. I desire you for all the things you bring alive in me. And I plan on keeping you for as long as you want to be kept. I will ask you not to fuck anyone else as long as you share my bed. I'm a selfish woman. I do not share that which I want solely to be mine.

"It's the only thing I'll ask of you. I've learned to simply enjoy my relationships. I have no expectations. I just want to ride the waves and see how far out to sea they will take us. I'm prepared to be left on the shore, and I'm prepared to be taken so far out that I cannot find my way back.

"It's all up to us. I'm not looking for anyone else because I'm perfectly satisfied with what I have with you, and I just want to enjoy it. Please, let's just enjoy it,"

He held me tightly. He kissed my forehead and lips and told me that I was a treasure. That he adores me, and he fucked me again and came over my stomach and my tits and I fell asleep that way.

I climbed out of bed and stared out the window. I was still naked, traces of his dried semen was on my breasts and stomach. The scent of him was glued to my skin. What else did I have to give him?

I have nothing else. Every time with him I give all - it's the only way I know how to be with a man - by the end of the day I feel empty. I don't know how to hold back and I do not want to know. I strongly believe that in order to experience the full scope of my desires, I must give in to them. I must let them consume me. I must drown in my own lust. I'm allowing B to consume me. I am his to be used any way he deems fit. I am his slut, and his whore - the object to satisfy his desires. I want him to take all that I have and leave me empty.

I like feeling like his dirty little whore. I like when he finishes fucking me, and walks away leaving me covered in his cum. I like that he doesn't look back. I don't want him to.

I would've liked to be used and left like that before his morning run.

I showered and waited for him on the couch.

**********

I heard his key in the door and greeted him sprawled on the couch with my legs open. My body was oiled, my hair wet and hung wildly about me. He paused in the doorway and stared at me - his eyes lingered on my shaved glistening pussy - his to be used again and again and again.

His shirt was off and his chest was sweaty. He held a bowl of cherries.

"I brought you cherries," He said handing me the bowl his eyes glued to my nakedness before him.

I picked out a cheery and put it inside my pussy.

"I would like to share my cherry with you," I said.

He blushed and chuckled. "I'm dirty and sweaty and funky from my run,"

"Who cares? There's a cherry in my pussy begging to be eaten,"

He blushed again and I thought it was adorable. Funny how my boldness still takes him by surprise - funny how it leaves him speechless sometimes - funny how it gets an immediate response from his dick.

"Are you saying that you like dirty smelly men?"

"I adore them," I said.

"In that case, I cannot disappoint madam," He fell to his knees before me like a servant boy and sucked the cherry from my pussy. I put another one in, and he sucked it out again. One after another he ate them from me. Bit by bit his Dick grew and my pussy throbbed and moistened with every flicker of his tongue. He stepped out of his clothes and stood before me and my face darkened with lust. "Fuck me now," I begged him. God, how I wanted to wrap my muscles around him - to feel him bury so deep inside me that it hurts. To feel him hump me and tear screams from me.

The tip of his penis paused at my entrance and even though I expected it, I grasped when he penetrated me. I gripped him tightly, grabbing his cock and locking my muscles around him as if I had no intention of letting him escape.

I had no intention of letting him escape.

He growled as I held and squeezed him. Released and squeezed him.

He used and made a whore of me.

He called a slut, a whore, a bitch. HIS cunt to use any way he wished.

"Yes," I screamed. "Yes, yes, yes. I am all of those things and more."

And so he bent me to his will and made me beg for more.

He tore screams and spasms from me.

He fucked me roughly and fucked me gently.

He stopped fucking me to kiss my blistered pussy only to fuck it sore and aching again.

I couldn't get enough. I was delirious with pain and pleasure.

When he aimed his Dick at my face, I opened my mouth to accept him, and he filled me.

I did not swallow, but let it trickle down my chin and neck. He tapped my cheek with his Dick and crooned: "You're such a good girl,"

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