That Devastating Drug

He ravaged my body, over and over he forced himself into me with little regard to my or his own comfort and pleasure. At times it hurt, deep inside, as his full hungry force drove into me. I felt the tightness and pressure as only discomfort. But I didnt tell him to stop. I couldnt think. I couldnt even breathe. It had been too long since I had felt his touch, his lips against me, the way we fitted together. I knew therefore that the pain would go, that my body would again get used to him. I didnt care about the pain, I wanted him as much as he wanted me. As I invited him into my body it was with no regrets and I abandoned reason to once again feel him against me. It felt raw and frantic, drinking each other in as if cups of water after days in the desert. Our bodies moved together and the heat increased, it was stifling, but it didnt stop or even slow us. The kinetic energy that flowed through us was a reminder of how wrong it was being back in that place. Previous heartache however was a distant memory as I realised I couldnt be without him any more than it hurt me to be with him. I remain incomplete unless he is wrapped around my body. Whether I reached heights of orgasm or not, having him inside me filled me with a passion and satisfaction that is incomparable. I allowed him to parts of my body and mind that I will never allow others. This passion is all we have but he can still see through my exterior to the nakedness underneath. He knows my vulnerabilities and plays on them, but I allow the satisfaction of having someone so deep under your skin. He will always be a part of me, whether for good or for bad. I dont love him. I never will, but the passion is unfaltering. I need him like a drug.

And so these thoughts pass through my mind in a brief moment as I pulled him further into me. The discomfort ended and I enveloped him completely and fully. He abused my body in his wild passion, biting and slapping, as if releasing all his frustrations upon me. He seemed angry, as we were yet again breaking down all the strength and restraint he had built up and suffered with. I wondered as to my effect upon him. Is it similar to the aphrodisial power he holds over me? Is it a case of having to be with me, as opposed to wanting to be? Does the sexual violation of my body allow him to love and hate me at the same time? We barely look at each other during the entire period, as if it would reveal too much, or make it too real. I feel as though I would havewept if I had looked at him for too long because I would have realised how wrong it all was. What we were doing hurt so many people, not just each other. But we carried on anyway, because we had to. If we didnt, something would have died inside. Like an addict, knowing what they are doing is killing them yet it is the only thing that can sedate the pain and longing. He bit hard against my neck, like a wild dog subduing an enemy, maybe he hoped I would die so this vile pleasure would end once and for all. Despite all of this pain and addiction, this reliance upon each other to provide the passion we both desire; we carried on. We moved together in fear that the world would stop spinning if we stopped. He pushed so deep into me, as if trying to reach my very soul. We lost all control, moaning and breathing hard. We should have stopped, but we couldnt. We said few words and sweat drenched us. He released all into me, filled me, collasped against me. The battle exhausted him, body and mind.

As reality crept over us we laughed awkwardly and lay against each other. We silently recalled the terrible yet wonderful thing we had just done. The come down, like a sweet drug, was dreadful but promising of the next hit.

"I've been faithful for a long time until now" he stated quietly.

"But it different isnt it?" I replied "Because its me."

I didnt need to provide further explanation because we both understand. Like oxygen, water, light, it was just needed and it didnt require questioning. We joked around until he left and once again the house was quiet. I tried to wash away sin and guilt, but it will never leave me. But I dont want it to, because its mine. Its ours. I am satisfied for now, but who knows how long it will be before I need more. How long will it be before my body physically needs him inside it again? My rationality is screaming to take notice of the guilt, shame, pain and hurt, but I repress them once again. I need him, and he needs me. I want to ignore the craving but that sweet devastating fix is something I cannot cast away.