Marissa wanted forgiveness. She wanted Miguel to understand her motivation. She was too passionate. Too jealous. She loved him too much. He could drive her completely crazy.
That’s why she got so angry when Miguel mentioned talking to his ex-girlfriend. Marissa couldn’t bear the thought. Her imagination ran wild. She imagined Miguel seeing his ex. Touching her. Kissing her. Making love to her. It was too much for her to stand.
So Marissa’s mind had betrayed her. She had reacted badly. Yelled. Screamed. Threw her jacket at him. And finally, she had walked away.
Marissa just wanted Miguel to see her. If he saw her, she could make him want her. Her powers of persuasion were immense. She’d show him why she was the best. And he’d agree.
Marissa got her way through pure persistence. She begged for forgiveness. Promised to be a good girl. Promised to be nice. She wouldn’t raise her voice. She wouldn’t try to force him to take her back.
Miguel believed her. He’d see her one last time. But it was to say goodbye. Not to rekindle. And she had to keep her word. No theatrics.
So Miguel came to see Marissa under the conditions he set. She didn’t plan to keep her word and didn’t. She wore a dress that casually showed off her body. A body she knew he couldn’t resist. She wore her dark hair down, in long loose waves, knowing he’d want to touch it. And she lined her pretty blue eyes. Eyes he wouldn’t be able to look away from.
Miguel was determined to be angry. He sat at her kitchen table, mind set, face contorted in anger, relishing the opportunity to lecture her. He told her he shouldn’t have come. He shouldn’t have returned her calls. He should’ve called it quits. She’d blown everything out of proportion. Acted completely irrationally. Like a lunatic.
She stood at her sink and listened patiently. Agreed where appropriate. She bided her time. If he didn’t want her, he wouldn’t have come. She knew at least part of him still wanted her.
When he finished his lecture, she approached him. Touched his soft, black hair. Apologized. Explained that she acted crazy, because she loved him too much. She threw herself at his mercy. She just wanted forgiveness.
Miguel held her hips, remembered he was angry, and took them away. He turned away, determined not to look at her. She massaged his shoulders. He tried to resist her but was weak against her resolve. He grabbed her, pulled her down, and kissed her roughly.
He stood. Told her she needed to learn a lesson. Walked her backward toward the bedroom. Kissing her. Biting her lip and pulling her along.
Miguel became demanding. He demanded she get undressed and lay on the bed. Told her to play with herself. Put on a show for him.
She did as she was told and stared at him as he undressed. He stood before her, naked, presenting himself to her. She stared at his muscled brown skin. The rosary tattoo on his chest. She wanted to rub her hands all over that chest. She tried to sit up, to pull him down on top of her, but he shoved her back to the bed.
He got into bed on his own terms. Pinned her legs down with his. Held her hands above her head with one hand and slapped her lightly on the cheek with the other.
He felt the wetness between her legs. She wanted her punishment.
He lifted her head up by her hair and slapped her once more before forcing his dick into her mouth. He held her hair, making her take more of him than she could handle. She gagged but loved it. She loved feeling his power.
He pulled her head away and let it drop to the bed. He flipped her over so quickly, she got a mouthful of sheets.
He fucked her from behind. Hold her head down in the sheets. Told her to arch her back. Told her to beg him for forgiveness.
She said she was sorry again and again, but he wasn’t satisfied. He flipped her over. Spread her legs. Climbed on top of her. Choked her as he fucked her.
She came between shallow breaths. He came shortly thereafter and collapsed on top of her.
Marissa asked Miguel if he forgave her. He laughed. Of course he did.