Anal Playtime

The snap of the glove made Mary’s eyes fill with tears.

Stan stood behind her as she pressed up against the high wooden edge of the bed, her bare back arched, her legs spread and teetering on three-inch heels, her hands behind her spreading her cheeks as far as she could. So far the only sound had been the quick “Squiq a’squip” of Stan’s repeated application of lubricant on the bare fingers of his right hand, the moaning they both made as he had lubricated her pruned anus and then the retort of Stan snapping on the glove to his left hand.

Mary had been shaking when Stan had kissed her on entering his apartment and told her what he had planned, quivering when he stripped and bathed her, shaking fully as he walked her to stand naked against the bed’s edge, mewing as he bade her pull her cheeks apart, clutching when he applied the lube to her ass and now crying with the realization that, with the glove on, Stan was about to ply her asshole.

Of course Mary wanted nothing more in all the world for her boyfriend to finger-fuck her ass, in fact she was opening up as much as she could right then to prove to Stan that she could eventually take his cock up her. Sure, she knew they had to start small, with Stan’s finger, maybe two. Then, if all went well, Mary’d ask for a toy or two, something thin maybe, but strong, a toy made specifically for ass play; maybe even a plug, dildo beads…or all three!

Mary fantasized about it all.

Was anal like the classic pot to heroin conundrum? Did you take something small and thin at first, like Stan’s finger, then ache for something bigger eventually, say a giant thumpingly thick dildo to spread you ’til you ached? Christ, Mary nearly swooned then as she imagined it!

But was it really size, the big blonde wondered as she lean there and waited. What had Mary really want, beyond the fact that she was leaning and presenting her virgin starfish to this guy she had only known three months (Jesus, did she really want an ass fucking so much that she’d let Stan do this so early into their relationship?) was that Stan was so fucking confident. Mary needed, ached, fantasized about a guy like Stan, a guy who would simply know what she needed, not second-guess her decision or constantly ask her: “Are you sure? Are You sure?” A man who simply would bring the glove and lubricant he needed, tell her this night was the night, bathe her, dry her, and then get her standing ready and willing to do what she had wanted to do for so long but had never tried.

That Stan was methodically moving forward to the obvious conclusion of putting his finger or fingers up her ass now, that he had yet to say a word really after he bathed her, that he was breathing lightly, hadn’t made a move to touch her anywhere else, nor turned her, or stepped to the side to even look at her, got Mary all that more turned-on, all that more assured, all that more submissive to this act of anal sex. Though she had masturbated to just this scenario many times she had never realized how sweetly erotic the entire escapade would be when she finally got the chance to experience it.

“Hurmp,” Mary said as Stan suddenly clutched up to her. He had hold of her left cheek vertically, spreading it even more as he snaked his covered cool wet fingers deep into her ass.

Mary smacked her pussy against the hard wooden edge of the bed and felt her stomach clutch. Shit, was she gonna come this quick?

“Open,” was all Stan said and Mary pulled with her right hand, spread that cheek for Stan and his fingers spider-ed into her, his middle finger stretching, deep and true.

Tears started to stream down Mary’s pretty pale face when the tip of Stan’s middle finger tickled her hole. Weeping fully then, Mary lost her reason as Stan fed his long lubed finger into Mary’s ass, up to the first knuckle. As she came and cried Mary looked back at Stan who looked up to her and smiled.

“You are never going to be the same,” he said and pushed in deeper.

Mary bit back a yelp, rolled up on her tip toes and knew, deeper then she had ever known anything about herself, that indeed she would never be the same.

Nor did she damn well want to be.

Tags: dildos

This entry was posted on Tuesday, October 21st, 2008 at 8:45 am and is filed under Anal Erotic Stories. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.