One of my greatest sexual experiences started with a fight. I dated Patricia for nearly two years, which was a least a year too long. In the beginning it was an intense, passionate connection. As time went on, it became apparent that it was a physical chemistry that kept us together. We fought often, and always about nothing. It was never one thing, or anything, really, just power control, and lack of control over what we were going through. If love came with clarity and honesty, we'd realize that we were, bit by bit, becoming each other's adversary rather than partner. But the sex was great. And the fighting seemed to fuel it even more. A pattern was forming, not a good one, either. It went like this: something of no important sets off an argument. The argument gets off topic and brings in a variety of undefined, but deeply felt grievances. The argument flares into a full-blown fight, until someone stomps off, slams a door, and screams, fuck you I never want to see you again.
Sadly, that's the point we were at. We'd both come home from work. Worn out, stressed, it was not a good time to get in a fight. Who should have called ahead for take out, or who should have stopped to get pasta, because we were out, might have sparked this fight. But I can't recall, and it never really mattered. Somehow the pattern took ahold of us, and we slipped quickly from stage one to stage two, to stage three. By that time she was threatening that we only had anal sex because I insisted and that she never liked it and that she didn't want to have it anymore. She stormed off, screaming, slamming doors. She'd never attacked our sex life. Of all our problems, that had been the steadfast beacon of hope. Her words shattered that, and I thought then, this time it's REALLY over.
Eventually, she returned, hugged me and said she was sorry. She was shaking with tears. As I held her, her groin moved against mine. She rolled her hips and pressed. My body responded, growing harder. Still shaking, trembling rage, turned quickly to hands tugging down underwear, reaching genitals. I was rock hard and she pumped my dick with her hand, sobbing, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. My hands were moving up and down her back and pawing her bare buttocks. She turned suddenly, leaning on the kitchen counter with one hand, reaching back with the other and without a word, guided the head of my cock to her ass. Are you sure? I asked.
She pushed me deeper to say yes. Her ass was so silky smooth, tight. It was the most perfect sensation I knew. I knew she loved it. She really did, despite what she'd said. But I also knew, at that moment, our time was marked. So I pushed my hips forward and she pushed her butt back, and we were joined. Her hot flesh gripping, engulfing my cock. We were both shaking, sobbing, saying sorry, I'm sorry over and over. Slow and deep, and then hard and fast. She grunted and screamed and moaned and yelled at me to give it to her, to fuck her, and to cum in her ass.
And so I fucked her in the ass like it would be my last time. And it was.
