Nuisance
This was the second wall she was pinned up against that night, within the same hotel room that was miraculously rented for the sole purpose of releasing frustrations that were caused by strenuous sexual tension. And as the woman she was, Dr. Coyle hated the position of being at the submissive end of things, but felt that she had no other choice but to be nailed against the wall, having her movements become extremely limited; she was holding out for her ex for nearly twenty years, and if that meant a body full of unintentional bruises and a jagged limp-waddle in her walk, then by god she will gladly take that in exchange for the merciless, lust-driven, pounding she's been craving for all of this time.
Abstinence was a bitch; not just for her, but for him as well.
Since the fallout of their relationship, she and Max Brass have literally not given a fuck. They did not give a fuck, nor did they receive a fucking. Sure, there may have been some, most likely a lot of cases involving self pleasure. But other than that? Absolutely nothing. Nothing at all. Not even rebound sex. Their slates were entirely clean since they split. And it's what made each second of literally being pinned up against the wall of a hotel suite all the more tedious and agonizing.
She wanted him to pin her down on that firm, mattressed bed that stood on the other side of the room and fuck her to the point where the mattress becomes busted, the box spring support of the bed caves in on itself, and literally every neighboring room would file a noise complaint because of the two; and that's just putting it lightly. Sure, the brutality of their rough foreplay was nice; but she, in a somewhat literal manner, wanted him to rip off her clothes and piledrive her into fucksville. She wanted to feel pain in the morning, one that would rival the pain that Max felt when she hurled him into a building not too long ago. One that her aggressive demeanor would ultimately regret craving such a brutal night in bed, but would be satisfied at the same time regardless, and would brush it off in an hour's time.
She was so damn tempted to push him off of her, just so she can drag the buff-as-hell fucker to the bed, but she was trapped between him and the wall. Her arms were held back by the sheer force of his grip and her breath was cut short by the rest of his body forcing her back to the wall, but those were the least of her problems. His shoddy kissing and his desperate dry thrusts were more concerning to her. Especially the dry thrusts. They were just there to fuck with her, teasing her in the worst of ways, knowing that they wouldn't even be enough; even for foreplay standards. Yet she couldn't help but to hoist a leg up around his muscular form, praying that his massive bulge would stroke her where it actually mattered, and not just prod at her thighs.
Eventually he yanked her away from the wall, their mouths parting for the moment so he could tear away her shirt; the overwhelming panting being the only thing that distracted the two. Coyle couldn't help but to claw away at the shirt she wore as well, knowing that taking it off normally would take up to half of the night due to her huge fucking shoulders. She didn't mind losing the shirt one bit; she was just relieved they were finally getting somewhere after a solid hour of prodding and teasing.
Once the tattered shirt reached the floor, along with a bra in the same condition shortly afterwards, Max pulled her to yet another wall, allowing her bare chest to press against him as their mouths to clash once more, before rolling off of the wall and slamming her into it, his pin significantly tighter than the previous ones that were pulled off earlier.
Coyle was honestly sick of this wall bullshit he was doing, especially when they were right next to the fucking bed at that point. And the fact that his dry thrusts were now drastically harder and faster than before made it even worse. The force of his thrusts and the way his bulge was smashing against her loins made her both infuriated, yet incredibly weak to his advances. The small surges of pleasure made her shiver immensely, moans escaping out of every labored breath that seeped through her lips. If he was intending to tease her to the point where she was nothing but a desperate twitching mess before pounding her into oblivion, then kudos to him. It worked. The damn bastard did it. He broke her somewhat cocky stature, making her completely submissive to his rough, sensual touch.
What a goddamn asshole.
Coyle clung to his shirt, her nails attempting to tear away at the fabric of his shirt. She managed to tear a few holes in his shirt before he took notice of her actions. And instead of pulling away to tease her further by slowly disrobing, he slammed his body against hers, limiting her movement even more as he increased the intensity of his thrusts. He was determined to make her climax before penetrating her. He wanted to see her become one hell of a writhing mess once this is all said and done; an infuriated, writhing mess. And if it were to take the whole night, then so be it.
The man was far more horny than she was, anyways.
Coyle eventually found both of her legs clinging to his hips, bucking back at his clothed erection. She failed miserably at keeping up with his pace, growing slightly lightheaded from the lack of air she was receiving. Whatever moan and whimper that impulsively left her throat was suppressed by his tongue. She was desperately torn between trying to break their mouths away from one another and having him suck the breath out of her to the point where she was on the brink of fainting.
But again, it was the thrusting that was pissing her off.
The fact she was going to climax because of his god damned foreplay method made her want to deck him in the face. She just wanted him to fuck her already, not whatever bullshit he's doing to her now. And the fact that she already succumbed to his dry fucking only mere minutes ago made things worse. The bitter-sweetness of it all was a huge nuisance to her, and he knew that. Oh, did he fucking knew that.
In fact, as soon as he felt her body quiver, he pulled his head away from hers, solely just to hear her orgasam; watcing her half cringe as she soiled herself. Stepping back when her moans died down and was nothing but desperate gasps.
Coyle leaned back on the wall, desperately trying to buckle the knees of her now jelly-like legs, all while shooting the man who made her suffer though all of that not-really-foreplay foreplay a searing glare. She watched him undress as she searched for the right words to bark out at him for putting her through all of that, only to have her lust bury her anger once more; kicking off her shoes as she fidgeted with her tights. The only thing left on her skin being the choker that adorned her neck and the mask that she could never take off in the first place once she kicked the soaked garments aside; doing all of this while her eyes remained on the fucker she lusted after, eagerly waiting for him to toss aside his last article of clothing.
And once she saw him toss the last garment aside, she lunged towards him- Only to have him immediately throw her down onto the bed, having her wrists pinned down by his gargantuan hands. A lingering silence followed, having their panting being the only audible sound in the room; and at that moment, the words that the scientist wanted to blurt out earlier fell from her slightly bruised lips.
"... F-fuck you... Brass."
Max sneared. That was just the reaction he wanted from her.
One of his hands released one of the wrists he clamped down, delicately tracing the outline of her form in a slightly sadistic manner; clenching her thigh shortly after he passed her pelvis, his hand nearly wrapped around the portion of above her knee. He paused, staring down at her with the usual shit-eating grin he wore in the ring, his grip around her other wrist tightened. He was teasing her again, and it didn't take her that long to notice this time. But as soon as her mouth opened to spout out a pestering demand to stop fucking with her, he lifted her leg up; spreading her out slightly before slamming himself inside of her, nearly making her climax for the second time that night.
"BRA-ASS!~"
She threw her head back, yelling as she felt his cock effortlessly slide into her. The sudden painful, yet somewhat pleasurable, remembrance of his size and girth caused her entire being to shudder. He was massive. There was no sugar coating it. He was the only man who has ever fucked her, and the fact that she forgot how big he was was almost shameful.
Max spent almost no time at all gathering up the pace he demonstrated earlier, relentlessly pounding her as his fingers dug into the thigh he tightly gripped; the sound of his heavy breathing and the unholy sound of their bodies mashing together being drowned out by her absurdly loud moaning. Absurdly loud moaning that made him even harder than he already was; absurdly loud moaning that, at this rate, was rightfully earned. It filled him with pride. Pride that made him fuck her even harder than he already was. He wanted to hear her go louder. He wanted her orgasams to shatter the windows of the room they stayed in.
He didn't care if they ruined the hotel room they stayed in, they could honestly tear the entire building to the ground if it meant they both leave satisfied.
He lifted her pelvis up slightly higher, bucking into her with blind, animalistic, lust; making Coyle roll her eyes back into her head. The only thing that she felt throughout her body was the heavy stimulation she was getting from having her pussy pounded. Everything else seemed to grow numb to her. Even her moaning wasn't voluntary at that point, it was sporadic, almost non-human at times. At that rate, neither of them were the highly respected ARMS league fighters they were known as, let alone human. They were two wild boars, sloppily fucking into oblivion.
Sloppily fucking to the point where much of their fluids dripped onto the bed sheets below them. Sloppily fucking to the point where neither of them could even utter out a word, having each vocal eruption be from sheer, wordless euphoria.
Dr. Coyle eventually found herself clinging desperately to Max's ridiculously muscular form, her legs tightly wrapped around him, bucking back at his intense thrusts at a better pace than before, but still failed to rival his frighteningly impressive stamina. The hand that was formerly on her thigh now clenched and harshly fondled her ass cheek in another vague yet determined attempt to push her moans beyond their limit in terms of volume; making her yelp in squirm in response.
But the man, for what seemed to be for the fifth time that night, got what he exactly desired.
Because for the first time the entire night, his length was fully inside of her; managing to slightly pierce through her womb, causing her to make noises that seemed entirely unhuman at that point. His shit-eating grin returned as he removed his grip from her other wrist, and held her twitching body in place; readying himself to fully fuck her to the point where walking would be completely out of the question.
He wasted no time picking up from the pace he left off on, gripping the hunks of flesh he held onto with a whole new type of strength, holding the woman beneath him as still as he possibly could as he drove into her, earning more and more of those ungodly moans that he's been waiting the entire night to hear. If there was any sort of restraint being held that night, it would of been completely gone at that point. The both of them have been craving the senselessness of it all. Even the pain that came with it.
The moans that came from Coyle were guttural and unreal. Her breath was heavily labored due to this, even more labored than her breathing was when she was pressed up against the three walls she was slammed into about an hour ago. From the neck down, she lost control of her body, thrusting back at Max's cock once more in hopes that he could get deeper than he currently was; She could feel drool seeping past the corners of her mouth, the drool eventually turning into a soft froff; And she found that her mind proceeded to go blank as she was edging closer and closer to another orgasam. Her nails dug into the bed sheets, tightly gripping them as he went the hardest he's gone that night, pounding into her with such a force that was strong enough to bruise the lips surrounding her vagina.
Max himself as also on the verge of climaxing, his quickened pace was a blatant sign of a desperate attempt to get her to climax first, just so her walls could milk out all the cum he's held back the moment Coyle threw her legs around him. Her surprisingly tight walls pushed him over the edge more than once the entire time he was in her, so naturally, he was determined to make her orgasam before he did.
The past couple of minutes were filled with one of them trying to push the other over the edge before they came themselves. Their attempts were quickly realized as ones made in vain as they both slipped up, allowing themselves to climax at the same time as they still thrusted at one another; their orgasmic yells being borderline harmonious in the most embarrassing of ways- realizing it as their pace gradually slowed down.
It was too late to drown out one another's climax, but despite this, they still brought each other in for an open-mouthed kiss that would shut the two of them up and kill any awkward atmosphere that the accidental slip up created. It was just as sloppy and heated as it was before making it to the bed initially, but there was something that was different about it now that their lusting for one another was overtaken by the exhaustion of intercourse. Something that was very easily brushed aside, but not forgotten right away. And god forbid that thought from ever lingering in their heads long enough for it to be questioned.
Eventually, Max dismounted her, quickly claiming his side of the bed and faced away from her, trying to catch his breath as he left her with numb legs and a gaping vagina that was leaking with the unrealistic amount of cum he had left in her. She rolled her eyes and sighed before mimicking his actions and turning away from him, collecting her breath as she thought of something to say to break the silence.
"You're... You're a huge fucking asshole, Max." She heaved out, her heavy breathing struggled to cease.
"Oh. I'm aware." He quickly snapped back, adding in a half hearted huff in amusement. "The same goes for you, Tess."
She grunted, scooting further away from the man on the other side of the bed. "What did I say about calling me anything remotely related to my name?"
"Don't remember. Don't care." He clicked his tongue. "Is referring to you by your name suddenly illegal?"
"No, It isn't. It's just-"
"Just what?"
Dr. Coyle sighed, carefully planning out the next string of words that would ultimately divert him away from saying her name. At least, for the time being. "I'd rather have you keep me here for another day just so you can have your way with me, than have you call me by any form of 'Tessa' for the rest of the night."
"Oh, really?"
Oh shit.
Coyle suddenly felt a shift on the mattress, the feeling being shortly followed by an arm being wrapped around her; having it yank her towards the buff man that was behind her, all while a low sultry chuckle seeped from his lips. "So what you're saying is..." she slightly cringed at the delicate tracing his hand did down her waist and hips. "... If I don't refer to you by your name... I get to have you for the next twenty four hours..." Max leaned closer to her, whispering the last bit of his statement into her ear as his hand trailed down to her quivering genitalia. "... And fuck you in anyway that I choose?"
She shuddered, softly moaning at his touch. Although she refused to admit it, she wanted to stay there with him.
She wanted him to fuck her until she couldn't feel her legs again. She imagined him bending her over the room's cheap table or relentlessly fucking her in the shower; maybe even pushing her up against a wall, crushing her body with each thrust. Or probably try screwing in the tiny closet the room had. The mere thought of it all made her feel slightly horny once more, making her free hand absentmindedly trace down his arm, guiding his hand further between her legs.
The more she thought of it, the more of a win it was for her than it was to him. The bastard was lucky that all of her self-experimentation lead her to be completely infertile in the first place.
"Y-Yeah." She half moaned, nipping at her swollen bottom lip. "Anyway you want to, dickhead."
Max chuckled as he slipped a finger inside of her, causing her to moan slightly louder than she was a short while ago; a wicked smile growing on his lips.
"That can be arranged."
A/N: 6 fucking years of writing all lead up to this, and I honestly don't know if I should regret it or not.