She slammed the door behind them and shoved him against it, her hand already yanking his belt open. "Tell me what it means when I say I want you to fuck me like you hate me," she growled, voice low and filthy. "The smuttiest meaning. No pretty words. Just what you'd actually do."
He grabbed her hair, twisting it hard enough to make her gasp. "It means I bend you over that couch, rip these panties off, and bury my cock in your cunt until you're dripping down your thighs. Means I slap your ass red while I pound you, and you beg for more because you're a filthy slut who gets off on it."
Her fingers wrapped around his shaft, stroking rough and fast. "Yeah? Then do it. Show me."
He spun her around, bent her over the arm of the couch, and yanked her skirt up. The thin lace tore easily under his grip. Two fingers shoved inside her without warning, pumping deep. She was already soaked, clenching around him. "Look at this greedy hole," he muttered. "Soaking wet just from talking dirty. You want the smuttiest meaning? Fine. I'm gonna use this cunt like it's mine to wreck."
He pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his cock in one hard thrust. She cried out, pushing back to take every inch. He didn't ease in. He fucked her like he meant it—deep, punishing strokes that made her ass jiggle and her moans turn ragged. One hand pinned her wrists behind her back; the other cracked across her cheek, leaving a sting that bloomed into heat.
"Harder," she demanded. "Make it mean something. Tell me I'm your fucktoy."
"You're my fucktoy," he snarled, pounding faster. "This tight little pussy is just a hole for me to dump my load in. You take it and you thank me." He reached around, rubbing her clit in tight circles while he hammered into her. Her legs shook. She came hard, walls pulsing around him, but he didn't stop. He kept driving in, chasing his own release with raw, wet sounds filling the room.
When he pulled out, he flipped her onto her back on the cushions. "Open your mouth." She did, tongue out, and he stroked himself over her face until thick ropes painted her lips and tongue. "Swallow the smuttiest meaning," he ordered. She did, licking her lips clean with a wicked grin.
But they weren't done. She pushed him down and straddled his face, grinding her soaked cunt against his mouth. "Now eat it. Show me what it means when I sit on your face and use you." His tongue worked her clit and slit without mercy, sucking and licking while she rode him. She came again, thighs clamping his head, juices coating his chin.
Later, on the floor, she rode his cock reverse, ass bouncing as he spread her cheeks and watched himself disappear inside her. "This is it," she panted. "The real meaning. No romance. Just two people being absolute degenerates." He thrust up to meet her, fingers digging into her hips, until they both shattered again in a mess of sweat, come, and hoarse curses.
They lay tangled afterward, breathing hard. She traced a finger through the mess on her stomach. "That's the smuttiest meaning," she said. "We both know exactly what we are when the clothes come off." He pulled her closer, already hardening again against her thigh. "Then let's keep meaning it."
