Next time we fuck, make it brutal. Make it vigorous and deep and angry and quick. Make it far too quick for it to only happen once. Make it worth all this time that I’ve waited: make it count.
The last time we fucked was before the flu. Before that stomach bug that caught first you, then me. Before the next bout of flu that laid you up for two days, the one that I’ve got now and it seems like I’ll have forever.
So next time we fuck, we’ve a lot of catching up to do. Don’t talk to me or kiss me or hold me: we’ve been doing that all along and if pressed I’ll say that it probably wasn’t helpful for the whole ‘not giving each other diseases’ thing. So don’t kiss me or stroke me or lap gently at my clit like you’re trying to make me come: fuck me roughly.
Next time we fuck, call me ‘bitch’. Spread my legs roughly and crush me into the shape that allows you to plough me nice and deep. Let every single inch of my cunt be filled with a cock that hasn’t felt this in far too long.
When you slide it in, let loose the groan of satisfaction that’s been building for the last two weeks. The one you save for special occasions. The one that means ‘that’s exactly what I needed.’
I’ll do the same: let out a raw-throated groan of pleasure at the satisfaction of being filled.
Next time we fuck, make it swift and impulsive: maybe you could pin me against the wall in the hallway, and yank down my jeans and knickers so carelessly that something rips. Pull up my top so you can grip my tits in your cold, cold hands while we’re fucking. Shove me harder, so that when my nipples brush the wall I yelp at the shock of it, and my cunt twitches around your cock as you shove it deep inside me.
Put your fingers in my mouth until I choke, because you want to feel that twitch again. Do it over and over until you come, pouring shot after shot of your pent-up frustration deep into the pit of my stomach.
Next time we fuck, make it brutal and quick and rough and intense – like a cold-water shower or a 6 am wake-up call or a really vicious whipping.
It might hurt, because it’s been a while. I might bruise, because it’s been a while. But I need to bruise and hurt and ache because for so long I’ve felt nothing.
I have been dead from the waist down for far too long.
And I want you to fuck me awake.