I am a healthy 27 years old. My mother died unexpectedly at the age of 46 and I was in deep grief. The funeral was long and steamy and the people were full of false caring. I felt nothing but revulsion being there, I wanted out, to get out of there and just go breathe the air. One of the men that came to the funeral is a friend of mine from college, he was my Finance professor and he took me under his wing and it because of him that I stayed in college and finished my degree. He came and when he came over to give his condolences he hugged me, pulled me tight into his arms so that I could not move and kissed my lips and cheeks and whispered in my ear that he was always going to be there for me.

In all my life I had never felt this terrible rage at being controlled and this uncontrollable urge to be dragged to the ground and fucked. His kiss on my lips was not the kiss of a friend, his hands on me were not the hands of a friend, his grip was too tight for me to break, in front of all those people he held me and kissed me letting every man in the room know that he had rights with me and he intended to use them.

He sat in a pew so that he was visible to me the entire time I was up at the podium reading my eulogy, my knees were weak, his stare would not leave me alone, I could not take my eyes away from him, I could see his hands in his lap and I kept thinking of things that were not right. I finished and sat down and I could feel his eyes on my neck, my hands were sweating in my sister's hands, she said I was flush and she worried that I was going to break down. That evening my little sister was my big sister, she was worried for me.

At the reception he put his arm around my shoulder and I instinctively put my arm around his waist. He walked me to the hall outside the reception room and told me he had come for me and he was going to take me home with him. He kissed me again, he was intense with no intention of letting me go, he gripped me against him and all I could do was breathe through my nose as his kiss went through me. He didn't wait for the reception to end, he didn't wait for me to go tell my sister he was taking me away, he didn't wait he just stuffed me in his car and took me to his house and stripped me down in the living room before pushing me backwards into his bedroom and onto his bed to fuck me.

After his fuck we sat naked on the bed and he told me how he was going to take care of me. He touched me over and over again, running his fingers across my shoulders, arms, boobs, legs, and in between my legs. He touched my lips before kissing me, he took my hand and had me hold his penis while he pushed me back down on the bed and fucked me again.

The night passed and he took me home the next morning, my sister was upset that I had left without telling anyone, she wanted an explanation for me leaving, she was upset that I had gone with a man and let him have sex with me. The end result of the day of my mother's funeral is that my ex-professor, a man older than my deceased mother took with him to take care of me and kept me in his house. Being healthy and 27 got me a girl that I named after my mother. The extreme heat is off, but the hot button is still there and I suppose that because when he comes home from work I am always there he is content with a kiss and a hug before we go to bed. The hot button is there, he knows exactly where. My little sister is a non-believer and she accuses me of using my grief to get a man to support me. I tell her that one day and she doesn't know when her hot button is going to be pushed and then it is all going to be over for her, so just wait her turn is coming.

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Anonymous

by Anonymous on Apr 7, 2019 at 4:25 PM

LOOK, what can I say?? CONTROL suits me.

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