Bleeding Love
It's been a long-ass week, both of us have been working more than usual. We're tired and needing some serious reconnecting. It's that time of the month—I know that talking about the crimson tide is a faux pas—but when my pretty girlfriend and I are both oozing from our cunts for seven days straight, it’s pretty hard to ignore. We synched up back in May, though we’d only been together for 2 months. Our gay-ass uteruses U-Hauled the same time we did.
Even though aunt flow comes to visit us at the same time, we have vastly different reactions. Honey Bunch gets sad and sweet; bloated and achy; irritable if there’s no vegan chocolate ice cream to pacify. Not me. I get horny. I'm not just talking about wanting sex—I mean I go into a fucked up bloodlust fog. With my full moon werewolf appetite unleashed, I want to devour her, scream at the moon, and tear her to pieces. It's an unquenchable thirst. No matter how frequently I feast on her skin, for an entire week, I simply can't get enough. I yearn for her.
Waking up, snuggled in her small bare breasts, I want to suck her nipples. She makes us breakfast, and I swallow her shape with my stare. Every movement she makes is a blistering turn on. She plops down on the couch next to me, engulfing me in the crook of her muscular arm, while presenting me with vegemite toast, planting a swift kiss on my cheek, and I want to suck her tongue into my mouth. She tells me her plans for the day, and I want to fuck her brains out. She’s cute, I’m hungry. Goldilocks, Big Bad Wolf.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to be gross. I'll gladly skip a first-day blood bath. I'm a feminist and shit, but I'm not a fucking vampire. Still, I don't shy away from our body's natural cycles. And you gotta admit, there's something particularly carnal about our ability to create a monthly murder scene on our white queen sheets. Undeniably, period sex is hot. It's forbidden, irreverent, and really fucking gay. When I've got my tongue enveloped in her pussy, I picture my high school sex ed teacher. I'm sure this isn't what Mrs. Loveless (no joke) meant when she said we had "a responsibility to honor our temples". But I fucking worship my girlfriend. I'm drunk on the hormone cocktail coursing through my body and I can't keep my hands off her.
Yesterday we had cramps that brought us to our knees. The kind of relentless pain that made us yell from the pure exhausting rawness. Not sexy. But today I feel the pulsing in my cunt reminding me to feed my inner werewolf. There's no time to waste; it's harder to get her in the mood so I'll have to be clever about turning her on just right. I'm on a mission. I look at the time, quarter past five, perfect. She'll be done with work any minute, hop in the shower and then come find me for dinner. I know her routine and I'm ready to lure her into my trap.
I sit on the couch, make myself comfortable with my large glass of wine, and start scheming our romp. I pull a burgundy quilt over my body, masking what's underneath. I feel the worn leather cushions rubbing against my exposed butt cheeks. I dug out a red lace thong at the back of my closet from my femme days. Took care to tuck in the tampon tail. I admire my craftiness, and she's never seen me in a thong before. On top I'm wearing a grey hoodie, partially zipped hinting at the equally out-of-character black lace bra. I'm not fucking around, I even shaved my legs! Probably for the only time this entire year. I gather my composure, pick up my wine glass, and try to act casual.
Right on cue, I watch her saunter through the door in grey boxers and a tight-fitting plain white shirt. Her short hair is damp and curling slighting on top. I catch a familiar whiff of tea tree body wash as she approaches. She sinks in next to me on the couch. Pulling our well-loved quilt over her lap. She’s focused on her phone, eyebrows slightly furrowed as she examines the screen. I drape my legs lazily over her lap hoping she'll notice their nakedness. To my disappointment, she seems unfazed and absentmindedly traces my knee with her free hand while texting with the other. This is going to be more work than I thought.
While she's distracted, I let my eyes run over her body and begin playing scenes in my head, letting my thoughts turn to daydreams about what I'll do to her once I've got her completely nude. I trace her body, noticing her strong bare calves crossed on the coffee table peeking out from under the blanket. I slowly draw my gaze up to the curves of her waist and tight stomach hidden under the lumpy quilt. A few goosebumps raise the skin on her arms. I notice her nipples slightly hardened pushing against her T-shirt. She catches me staring at her boobs. My cheeks flush red as I realize I've been found out. I dart my gaze away, trying to play cool. I want her to chase me tonight.
"Whatttt?" She drawls playfully drawing my gaze to her piercing blue eyes, "What are you thinking about?" I roll my eyes noticing her holding back a half-smile, indicating she already knows exactly what's lingering in my mind. She wants me to ask for it. She wants to hear my confessed desire, she wants to know I'm only hers. But I don't feel like playing sweet girlfriend tonight. No such luck, baby girl.
I confess, I’m normally a “spank me daddy and spit in my mouth” kinda lesbian. But she’s 77% vanilla according to the bdsm test. No judgement here, just that with her I normally behave like a “fuck me harder please honey” kinda lesbian. But tonight, she's gonna have to be braver if she wants to tame me. I lean over, letting my hoodie hang open, giving her a slight glimpse of my padded cleavage. I grab a pen that's sitting on the maple coffee table in front of us. I twirl it lazily between my fingers, and as she continues to watch me, I deliberately toss it on the floor. She gives me an inquisitive look, and we lock eyes, "Miss, get that for me." Neither a question nor a statement—I'm testing the dynamic, seeing if she'll play my game. She sends me a side-eye, still trying not to crack a smile.
She doesn't usually like to give up control. Our therapist, Dr. Liz, says it’s a good idea for us to practice switching so we better understand the other. As our weekly homework she's agreed to let me be the dominant one. She wants to please me. I’m low-key terrified. But Andrea Gibson says fear is excitement or something along those lines. So I’m diving headfirst into my feminine werewolf domme persona tonight. It seems to amuse her to watch me push through my submissive impulses. She's one of those tops who doesn't seem to realize how much confident dominance she exudes. I’m intimidated, okay? You think a girl can’t have erectile dysfunction just cause my dick’s plastic? Whatever I’ll get over it, I’ve committed. I'm determined to put her in her place and show her who's alpha. Me. Dammit.
She'll bite. She theatrically pushes my feet off of her lap, gets up, bending over slowly, as she plucks my pen off of the carpet. Not gonna lie I get turned on as I notice she didn't put her cup back in. A small, damp crimson circle seeped in her boxers, contouring the ridges of her cunt. No shame in free-bleeding, baby. I see a small matching stain on the leather cushion where she was sitting. I turn back to savor the view as I notice the distracting wetness forming in my own pussy. I admire the shape of her ass as she returns upright. She dramatically extends the pen to me, "Here, princess." I take it, defiantly tossing it at my feet again.
"Sam, what the fuck?" Now she seems irritated and confused.
"Come here. Bend over," I say in a slow even voice, just the way I've been practicing. Startle crosses her face. She's not used to me bossing her around. She’s a top top. Still, she takes a hesitant step in my direction. It's enough for her to be within my grasp. I grab her by the hips, pulling her towards me, swivel her around so she's facing away, and repeat "Bend over."
Firmer now. I place my hand on her lower back and push slightly as I order her to pick up the pen for my amusement. She lets a chuckle escape her lips as she folds over, her red cunt, now at the height of my face. I wrap my hands around the front of her thighs and pull my face into her. She gasps as my tongue slowly rolls over the wet patch in her boxers. I let my hands wander over her ass, feeling her tremble in excitement.
I pull her roughly onto my lap, giggling like a pussy, but kissing the back of her neck as I gather my top composure and she settles into my embrace. My arms wrap around her and feel her abs through the T-shirt. Wandering under the fabric, my cool hands send shivers as I trace the smooth skin around her belly button, dipping towards her boxers, feeling her pelvis push towards my wandering fingers. I change directions, not giving her what she wants but continuing up her body. I cup her soft breasts in each hand, letting my thumbs graze both of her hard nipples. The kisses on her neck transform into nibbles.
Her head rolls back into my neck and she takes my face in her hands pulling my lips to meet hers. But I'm not letting her take charge. I bite her lip. To my pleasure, she yums. I bite harder, drawing a small drop of blood into my mouth. I squeeze her breasts harder, then run my hands down her sides and gyrate her hips, pressing her full ass into my lap. I push my pelvis up, allowing my clit to meet the wet stain that's growing larger in her boxers. One hand reaches for her wrists, pulling them together, struggling to hold both in one hand, but squeezing hard to convey her captivity. I return to biting her neck, slowly sucking just below her shirt collar where I know she'll mark up. Mine. Left hand still holding her wrists, I order her to her feet and to follow, pressing myself into her back as I lead her to our bedroom.
"Lay down and close your eyes," I tell her, stripping from my grey sweater, revealing my lingerie. She opens her eyes, takes me in from head to toe. Her gaze lingers on the red thong, she smirks. "Okay, fine. You can be my femdom" she finally acquiesces.
"I know. Now shut up. You can only speak when spoken to, Miss." I’m awkward as fuck saying those words while wearing a thong, but there's no way I'm allowing my insecurities to show at this point. I get firmer, determined to get my way. Werewolf domme, I remind myself.
"Sit on my face." We've never done this before, at least not with her on top, and I'm taking a gamble. She pretends she’s tough but she’s hella insecure when it comes to bottoming. I love that about her. I’m expecting her to refuse flat out, but she's starting to play along, giving me more of her trust. I know she's curious, deep down all she wants is to please me. She hesitates one more second, I can see her playing it out in her head, before saying, "Can we use a dam?" I'm ecstatic with her response. I realize I’m a little unsure about what I’m doing since I didn’t expect her to say yes. I roll out of bed to fetch a pair of latex panties, giving myself a pep talk then handing them to her, as she peels off her now soaked boxers and drops them to the floor.
I lie on my back in nervous anticipation and she climbs on top of me. Her smell overwhelms me. I want to consume her entirely. I grab her hips and pull her into my mouth. Vanilla, latex, and a soft hint of iron soaks my taste as she rides my face. I hear her moan, she digs herself into my open mouth. Her thighs squeeze my face as she pushes back and forth against my tongue. I'm in werewolf heaven. I sink my nails into her butt, hearing her groan.
Suddenly, before cumming, she rolls over, leaving me startled. I realize she probably can’t release when she's getting fucked like that. She goes to rummage through our toy box. Pulls on her dick. In no time, I'm off the bed and on my knees. She teases her cock into my mouth, knowing full well this isn't my shit but also knowing she can put me in my place. Fine, you are daddy. It doesn't take long for me to submit; deep down I know she is un-top-able. Sorry, Dr. Liz, I tried. Truth is, I'm happy to let her take over. I want to be put in my fucking place. Tame me.
She pushes me down to the bed on my stomach; grabs my thighs and splays them open, pulling off my red thong with her teeth. I’m here for it, groaning for her. Before I understand what’s happening she’s grabbed the white tampon string between her teeth and pulled, slowly, sensually. Fuck, that’s gross! I love it. She extracts the bloody cotton, dropping it nonchalantly on the sheets. Holy shit, I’m staring at her in disgusted and lustful disbelief. She wipes her mouth on the back of her arm. I had no clue she was this edgy. My cunt is pounding, I’ve never wanted her more, moaning anticipating her touch. She steps between my legs, inserting herself into my waiting cunt. Blood covers her dick. Nothing feels better than her deep cock, pulling blood and cum from my pussy. She uses one arm to hold me down between the shoulder blades, effectively pinning me as she pumps faster and harder. Her fingers leave a red streak as she steadies herself on the bed. What a fucking mess.
I'm howling at the moon, begging her to fuck me harder. I want her to destroy me. She's sinking her nails into my back. Pulling me into her as she reaches around for my clit. She starts pinching my labia, pulling me along to her rhythm as she steadily brings me to an excruciating climax before finally turning me over, pulling off her strap, and getting what she wants. She's done plenty for me today and she knows she can take what she pleases. She holds my legs above my head, bending me in ways I didn't know I could still move. She shoves her erect clit against mine. We're slipping all over each other. The feeling is absolutely unmatched. No lube necessary today. We drown our cunts in each other.
Finally we collapse, gasping for air. The sheets smeared where fingers grabbed fabric leaving traces of loving carnage. The full moon streaming through the thin curtains casts shadows over our entwined limbs. I gently purr as I cuddle into the crook of her arm.
Photo by Elīna-Arāja