Silky Kitty’s sex story

Like a lonely spectre, she haunted the club. Her pixyish, mischievous smile belied the sadness she kept carefully walled up inside. It was pain that few could see and no one would share. The outer façade was girlish, and playful. The inner soul was wounded and dying. She struggled to hold this illusion out front, for all to see, while very firmly repressing the darkness she held within.

What did they see when they looked at her? A tiny child, trapped in an “of age” body, with skills rivaling the most experienced courtesans. Yet she could portray lighthearted innocence, even while on her knees between your legs. She was an enigma; to herself no less than to others – so much so that she’d long ago given up on trying to analyze her actions.

Her reputation preceded her. The harsh jibes and slurs were uttered without her presence, though she surely must have known these intimations occurred. You know how men talk, she would tell herself. If they talk about me, they are leaving some other poor soul alone.

They were like wolves, circling a wounded doe. All knowing she would eventually go down, it was just a matter of time, and a question of who in the pack would be the one to conquer her. But unlike the doe, whose demise would be mercifully quick, she must endure her defeat time after time, never really dying enough to save her own soul.

Each night the hunt played out. She dodged their advances, half-heartedly, for she knew she craved being pursued as much as they craved the conquest. Each time, the result was the same. A small part of her was torn away and consumed, replaced by the scars that jaded her, reinforcing the mortar of her carefully crafted walls. And those walls were all that held her back from falling into the bottomless chasm of her loneliness.

She knew in her heart that it was not her that they wanted. Any warm body would do. She was just there, convenient, and far too easy. They were fascinated with her open sensuality, drawn to her like predators to wounded prey.

Tonight was not unlike any other. It was the same jungle, the same predators, just with different faces and names. She tried to remain calm as they circled, the most aggressive already making his move, even before she was cornered in the darkened booth.

His look spoke of pure leer, and his eyes ravished her body before he spoke a word. She felt a pang of fear, and of regret that she felt so powerless to control what would happen next. As he sidled up to her, she cringed visibly, but that completely escaped him, as he was completely focused on his own pursuit.

Making small talk, he inched closer, until his hand found purchase about midway up her thigh. She laid her hand over his, as if to stay any advancing towards higher ground. He relaxed his hand, waiting for her to drop her guard before advancing. Leaning in, he spoke in her ear, blowing out hot breath that send a shiver down her spine. He felt her shudder, and knew she would soon be his.

His hand inched slowly, almost imperceptibly, upwards, as she concentrated on the response he’d elicited, so easily. He craned his neck to divert the flow of warm air to the nape of her neck, as he planted a small kiss there. He felt her shiver, harder this time, and took this as his cue to step up his assault on her senses. He opened his lips and pressed them firm against her soft neck, sucking gently until he thought he heard a quiet moan catch in her throat. He flicked a hot, firm tongue between his teeth, running it in circles over her sensitive skin. Her breath quickened to a ragged pant, and he knew it was time to move in for the kill. Tugging her by the hand, he led her towards the back door, flinging a knowing grin over his shoulder, at his companions.

Once in the darkened alley, his hands ran over her body like wildfire, until he seemed he was touching her everywhere at once. Her head was spinning, as she felt the urge to resist, but it was quickly lost in a tumult of desire, as his hands explored her responsive flesh. He pressed her firmly against the rough brick wall, running one hand up the inside of her shirt, squeezing, and kneading. She tried half-heartedly to push his hands away, but it only served to make him more aggressive.

His hands wander farther down, until they found the hem of her short skirt. Grabbing it, he tugged it upwards until it was wrapped around her waist. He then grabbed the waistband of her silky panties, and yanked them down to near her knees.

With no preliminaries, he freed his rod, and lifting her up slightly to obtain the right angle, he prodded at her entrance. She wriggled as though she was trying to avoid being impaled, but knew better than to protest. It was too late.

A few rough, fumbling thrusts, and she was filled with him, pressed firmly against the wall. He rutted her with rapid aggression, grunting like an animal as he quickly found his own satisfaction within her walls.

She was stunned for a few moments, as he nodded then disappeared without a word, back into the club, leaving her leaning against the cool, rough bricks, her panties still around her knees, and her unfulfilled sex open to the cool night air.

There was a time when she felt a sense of triumph, in moments like this. She felt a feeling of being wanted, or simply desired. That had long since passed, replaced by a dawning of reality, and the jaded knowledge that she was merely being used. It was a pointless epiphany, however. The word “no” died a thousand deaths, upon her lips, because she didn’t have the fortitude to invoke its power. The habit of giving in had taken over her, and become the cornerstone upon which her walls, however trembling, stood.

She steeled herself, straightened her clothing, and slowly slunk back into the hallway at the rear of the club, finding solace in the cool, tiled bathroom. The eyes that stared back at her from the cloudy mirror bored into her soul, with the question – “Why?”

For this, she had no real answer. But she knew this much. It was never over. Caught in a mindless loop, doomed to play out the scene again and again, she shook her head, and let the saline flow down her cheeks like a summer rain.