My frustration grows and is tied to something you don't know – I've tried anal sex twice, with the man I dated before I met you. I loved it, and I want to do it again (and again and again). I didn't tell you about it before, omitting it from my somewhat white washed sexual history that you got when we were dating. Now, I can't tell you that I love it and want it and dream of it and even though it's been years since there was a cock in my ass I still think about it every single day. If I tell you now, you might even say no. I've actually been doing exercises to keep my ass tight so that when you do fuck it, you'll think it's the first time. I have other fantasies, too, so many that I want you to fulfill, but I'm too ashamed to tell you about...yet. Maybe after you fuck my ass, I can tell you the next one, and the next one, and keep going until I get it every way I want.
My toys arrive in the mail quickly (though not quickly enough for my impatient needs). I take the box upstairs to our bedroom and open it. Everything is a bit larger then I expected, but it all looks wonderful. I open the package for the smallest anal plug and finger the ridged, rubbery hardness. I realize how wet I am and I pull down my panties and step out of them, leaving my skirt and stockings on. I can't resist sliding it in and out of my soaking pussy. It feels so good and I glide it in and out slowly, moaning aloud as I think of how it will feel in my ass. I pull it out with an audible "pop" – those exercises to keep my ass tight keep my pussy tight, too – and slide it back slowly towards my neglected hole, almost moaning aloud with anticipation. I begin to press slowly, gently, bouncing up and down on my toes. I decide to make it more real – more like I imagine it to be when you actually do it to me - and walk over to the bed. Our bed is taller than most, with no footboard so that when I bend over it I am on my toes and it is the perfect height for you to fuck me doggie style, which is our favorite position.
Leaving my heels on so that I can bend over the bed and keep my feet on the floor - since I won't have you to impale me and lift me onto my toes with your thrusts – I slowly lift my skirt, feeling exposed. I know how you love to see me like this, which is why you bought me all the short skirts and costumes (nurse, French maid, catholic school girl, cheerleader – how funny I found those, but I wear them anytime you ask because they inspire you to new heights {and depths, pounding deep and hard into my pussy} and I try to fulfill every fantasy you even hint at, so that maybe someday you'll fulfill this one of mine. I imagine you walking into the room and seeing me like this. In my head, I see you drop your briefcase and quickly walk up behind me. I start to say something, to explain, only to hear you snarl, "Shut up, bitch. You're acting like a slut, so I'll treat you like one" as I imagine hearing your zipper being jerked open.