tell me | nsfw

tw: mentions of sex, biting, smacking, choking. it's relatively tame, folks.
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“Tell me what you want. Louder, babe.”

I hate it when he calls me that. One minute, Brad’s balls are bouncing against my bare thigh and the next, I have the image of Farmer Hoggett dancing around a pig that’s likely suffering from cat scratch fever. Can pigs get cat scratch fever? Is that even a real thing? Brad says something against my skin, in between gentle pecks.

A moan. “Hm?” No, I wasn’t just thinking about a pig. I was thinking of you, babe.

“Don’t be shy,” and it’s said with all the condescension a guy could muster. As though this is a safe place. We played ‘are those fireworks or gunshots?’ outside your apartment, Brad. This isn’t a safe space.

“Oh, yeah. Totally. Not me…” I lie, because it’s not his fault that I have no hope for this being a semi-decent experience. A slight arch of my back, slender fingers gripping into his skin, a not so subtle attempt at using a bit of force to liven up our evening. 

“Do you like it like that? Is that what you like?” He’s not asking for suggestions here. Validation is what he’s seeking. He’s been validated all his life by women who are just too tired to tell him the truth. He’s boring. 

“Mhm...you know it,” a grin, teeth sliding across my own bottom lip because someone has to do it. The gesture alone is enough to make me want two double A batteries and maybe a home improvement show running in the back. So many countertops.  “You know me so well,” I say aloud to myself---which, of course, Brad thinks I’m talking to him.

His body, warm from his excitement (though you wouldn’t be able to tell by any other part of him), settles over mine, lips moving to my ear. He growls. F***ing growls. I’m embarrassed for him because he has done this for some girl before and she must have deserved an Oscar for telling him how sexy it was....  “Some guys can’t read women.”

I laugh in his face, but quickly throw my open mouth at him, so it’s not as obvious. Smooth.“Yeah, they are the worst.” My kiss is enough to wake up the rest of Brad and I’m envious that he’s so turned on right now. Envy and naked bodies are not a good combination. My hand slips down his chest, a less direct route, to then land on my own body. The sweat that’s been dripping on me during this foreplay session makes it seem like I may be wet.... Nope. “Could you just---?”

He’s all attentive now. Biceps solid as he does a push-up against my frame. Hello.“Tell me what you want, Ginny.”

Gross. Only my dad called me ‘Ginny’. But I’ve pushed through worse before. He genuinely seems to want to know what I want… So my hand goes to his mouth, covering his chapped lips in the hopes that he won’t ever call me that again. “Just--let’s put your hand in my hair,” slipping slowly down his bicep (hello, again), wiggling at his arm so he can adjust himself. His body is pushing mine deeper into the carpet, making it difficult to breathe. Don’t hate that one bit. I bring his hand to my hair, tangling it like the vines in Tarzan---it was on Disney+. It was a logical analogy. “Yeah, just like that.”

“It’s so soft. You’re so soft. All of you is so soft.” God, shut up.  “You’re small, babe, but these hips of yours...” I’m not even mad that he’s alluding to my hips being the largest part of me. I can handle that, because his palm is also splaying out into the arm, acting as though he’s about to grab at my hips. Dig into my flesh. Cause me to cry out in pain from the sheer force. Maybe he’d even leave a bruise or two...fingerprints left as a reminder...

“Yeah?” My throat is dry, but other things are shaping up quite nicely.

And just like that...he lets me down, by gently caressing my skin.“They are so soft.”

He’s killing me. I’ve worked up a sweat from fantasizing, so I tug on his hand to go back into my hair.“Shh. Let’s move a little bit,” shifting under his body, until I’ve forced him to “pull” at my hair---if you could even call it that.
“---whoops. Seems like you tugged my hair a smidge. Wow.” My words are breathy, eyes make contact with his and even I think that might have been enough for me to carry on with this charade. “That, like, kinda did something for me.”

“Oh, yeah, babe?” Didn’t they make a Babe 2? Pig in the City? Was there singing in that one? “I can do that for you. Is that what you want?” 

“Here, why don’t you give me a little kiss? While you’re there, your teeth could...give me a little bite?”

“Oh, you’re so kinky, babe. Yeah. I’ll bite you. I’ll bite you real hard.

Oh my God. This is it. This is when I find out that he’s just been nervous this whole time to show me what he likes… He didn’t want to scare me off. How considerate! We are going to look back on this day and laugh--might be a little tricky since hopefully I’ll have a ball gag in my mouth, but yay us!  “Oh, okay.” Playing it cool. We are going to use the song from Babe as my walk down the aisle song. 

“Tell me, is that what you want?” My excitement starts to dwindle when he asks again, but I won’t let this moment pass us by. 

“Totally. How about this... let’s pretend, like close your little eyes and just imagine for me…”

“Yeah...yeah…” Brad closes his eyes, but like a kid who is afraid of the dark...

“I’m yours. All yours. To do exactly with me as you want. Whatever you want. Maybe I’ve even been...bad. Maybe I need to be punished…” And now I’m turned on, almost engaged, and nothing can bring me down.

“Woah. Woah. Punished? You want me to beat you?” He’s off of me with a sense of urgency I haven’t seen all night out of Brad.

F***. “Not necessarily beat. That’s not the word I would use here…”

“Is that what you want? I don’t go around hitting women, Ginny.” Gag. “That’s not my thing. I don’t do that. Is that what you want?”

“Jesus Christ, Brad! Yank my hair, bite my boobs, and spank my ass every now and then! This isn’t rocket science!”

And Brad left. The ironic thing is...once I locked the door behind him, slid into my bed, and turned on the tv….Babe was on.