What would you choose between eviction and sex? I chose the later

I opened the door and there he was grinning at me.

He walked into my apartment as if he owned it because he actually owned it.

He sat on the sofa chair I had purchased from the money I earned from my first modeling gig.

He didn’t say a word just looked at me, and I knew what exactly he wanted.

I slipped the satin robe that I was wearing underneath which I was naked and knelt on the floor before him. His grin threatened to split his face in two and I wished it would actually split in two so that I could get out of this wretched deal.

His hand landed on the back of my neck and I was harshly pulled towards him.

"Bitch you know what to do." He said and I reluctantly reached for his belt buckle. I undid it and unzipped his pants. He was rock-hard in his boxers and I knew he would be particularly rough with me.

I pulled his cock out and the minute I had its head between my lips, he pulled my face closer choking me completely.

I gagged and lightly hit his thighs with my hands, but he did not let me go. I breathed through my nose and tried not to puke.

Tears gathered in my eyes and when the first tear rolled down my cheek he pulled away until only the tip of his cock was wedged in my mouth.

Most nights of the week he comes to me and uses my body as his playground. To fuck, to suck to bite to pinch, and do much more, and I let him. And every morning when he leaves my bed with me stark naked in it, I hate the feeling.

But I would never admit this to anyone not until I’m dead and a ghost that I fucking love the thing we have. I will never admit this to him either. Since I was a teen, I wished to be used, as if I did not have any control over my own body. As if I was nothing but a toy for a man’s pleasure.

And he was fulfilling my fantasy time and time again. When he tied me to my bed and fucked me so hard that my neighbors knew what was happening to me...

(If you wish to continue reading the story is already uploaded)