Hed Wanted This

I posted this story on the internet back when it was originally written, but as I've revised it considerably recently, thought I'd put it up for perusal here. The original featured a disclaimer and legal ownership preface which I've excised as I am the original author and because I find reading it pretentious now, especially given the ownership I retain through literotica.com--copyrights are included below more for historical interest than because I'm that anal (even though I am...).

-=|horsefly|=-

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He'd wanted this. Begged, pleaded, and cajoled. He bought the bloody thing himself, told his lover he trusted her with it. Had she ever used one before? No. But that didn't stop him. He'd wanted this....

And now he was naked in his living room, his luscious girlfriend behind him, holding the cheeks of his ass open and sliding a very slick dildo between his legs, teasing him. The hard latex brushed his scrotum, nudging his right testicle. "Keep your hands around your ankles, baby," she chided, her voice silky-soft. "Remember, this monster stays lubed for your tiny ass only so long as you do as I told you," and the menace and authority he'd never heard from her before snickered in the shadows of her words; he swallowed hard and tightened his grip on his ankles.

"Monster" was right, he reflected. Without thinking, he'd purchased the biggest thing the store carried, eight inches long and two in diameter, the strap-on cock his lover wore was as life-like as they came: its veined, slightly upward-curving shaft terminated in a egg-shaped head (for easier entry, he'd hoped while inspecting it), painted in a flesh-tone so close to real that he *almost* couldn't say it was fake, with even a soft line along the bottom (where a tube ran hidden inside the latex from the tip to the base) with a tiny hole at the end. The most surprising (if one didn't know about the fake urethra) feature was the hollow mold of the balls and scrotum. The device had come with a supply of powder and instructions on how to add water and fill the cavity with the fluid (At the right moment, he'd smirked...). Perhaps he'd fancied using it on her? No, this was no time to fool himself....

The hardwood floor was cold beneath his feet, and a breeze wafted around him from the large open window on the west side of the room, shriveling his penis and raising gooseflesh all over his body, the hair on his arms, inner thighs, and the nape of his neck raised as if each follicle had a sensor at its end that could sense danger. He smiled ruefully between his legs at the thought, just as his lover slid a wet finger all the way up his hole! Smile forgotten, he gritted his teeth, trying to stifle a groan. With his fingers coming loose (and this is just her finger! he thought), he had bigger issues to deal with than pride. Wincing as the invading digit squirmed deeper within him, he tightened his grip again, making holding both ankles the most paramount thought on his mind. Behind him, he saw the firm, lightly tanned legs of his lover, heard her sultry laugh... and felt her slowly twist that finger inside him. He groaned, availing to steady himself and keep his hands where they NEEDED TO BE.

They had discussed this a few weeks ago when he had first bought the toy: how would they act, what precisely would they do, did he *really* trust her (she wanted to know)? He did. So he wound up offering suggestions to her, and for her part, she kept her own counsel.

Tonight, telling him, "The living room is prepared," she had pulled him away from his writing. He'd eagerly ventured out then, and she had ordered him to strip completely naked, bend over, and grab his ankles. With some trepidation, and with the excitement of having a fantasy fulfilled, he had complied. He'd heard rustling behind him, and presumed that she was likewise disrobing. After he had finished doing as she'd said, he followed her feet move around him, then saw her kneel in front of him, her face visible; she was, as he'd hoped and suspected, naked (but for the faux-cock secured in the thick leather harness that he bought separately, giving his lover freedom to use her hands elsewhere).

With a steadying, comforting hand on his right shoulder, she had informed him that as long as he did what he was doing now, she would make this as painless as it could be. "You said you trust me, sweetheart, and I believe you. Trust this, though: it *will* hurt. There's no stopping that. I'll not go faster or harder than you can handle while you obey my one edict. And I will keep," she had wrapped her right hand around the plastic shaft, "this," and she'd let go of the dildo, reached between his legs, and pressed a finger on his anus, "and this," she had massaged his sphincter for a moment, "as lubricated as possible. I promise. Her hand sped to her breast and made a slow, deliberate cross over her heart.

His neck had begun to ache looking at her in this awkward position, but he dared not look away from her now. She was always beautiful--€”her hair waist-length and dark red with blonde highlights, her eyes a vibrant shade of hazel that somehow never failed to see something good in him; her lips full, her nose a light touch that crinkled adorably when she smiled, her breasts the size of oranges, pert and easily excitable, especially her dark pink nipples, so thick and sweet, her flat stomach, toned by years of crunches--but now there was terrifying element in her visage; he had only to look where her hand had been (lower, his mind whispered) a few moments before to see why. She'd risen suddenly, the strap-on rising with his lover's body, and it brushed his cheek, slick with whatever lubrication she'd greased it.

Her slender fingers roamed lightly over his back, her sculptress' hands strong, kneading his stretched muscles and rubbing in some of the extra lube. "There's something else, though. You should know the consequences of disobeying me. He strained to look up at her, but with a hand on his head she kept him from meeting her eyes. As she rubbed and gently squeezed some of the stress out of his neck, she had continued, "Take your hands off your ankles, luv, and I will take this toy out of you, but don't think I will stop. Instead, I will clean off the lubricant and resume fucking you... *dry!*

"Also, should you release your hold on your ankles, I will consider myself similarly released from the concern of hurting you with this big prick. She had stroked his hair gently as if in counterpoint to the picture she was painting, a soft chuckle in her voice as she went on, "If you thought I was a wild woman in bed before...."

He had swallowed, released and retightened his grip on his ankles from his left thumb down to his right pinkie, one finger at a time, then nodded, as if to show that he understood, and was holding on for dear life already. "I understand," his voice had trembled. "I love you."

"I love you, too, dear heart," she had replied, bending down and at the same time bringing her hand from the back of his head down to his jawline, bringing his face to hers gently. He could tell that she wasn't trying to get him to let go of his ankles, and he wouldn't. Indeed, the look that passed between them was one of starkest love and devotion; a brief, chaste kiss seemed to communicate every ounce of love he felt for her, and he felt it from her, too. Her eyes sparkling as she pulled back, she had straightened, then walked slowly around him. And then, despite the breeze, he was sweating steadily in anticipation.

That had been ten minutes ago.

He jerked as she began fucking him with her long forefinger, acutely aware of each sixteenth of an inch inside him she slid; aware also of the complex texture of her skin--a breath-taking experience, to be sure. True to her word, his lover used small, deliberate, gentle motions. He almost wished she'd move faster, but was grateful that she didn't. Not yet. He was getting accustomed to her finger inside him, and he thought she was probably getting similarly accustomed. A languid acceptance of what was happening settled over him, and he began breathing deeply. The finger inside him rotated slowly, beginning a breathtaking massage of his prostate that *almost* made him let go of his ankles.

He felt her other hand on his left hip, steadying him, and he smiled, groaning with satisfied lust, "Ohhhh, yessss! Do it, baby. Fuck me with your finger."

She chuckled behind him, massaging his hip and pressing a second finger into him. Her nails had been trimmed, and the edges were smooth. The lubricant from the second finger was much cooler than that of the finger already working inside him, and the contrast in temperatures made him sigh and grind his hips back. She rewarded him by gently tickling his prostate, sighing like molasses, "You're such a slut, baby."

"Your slut," he smiled. He could feel her grinning behind him.

"Yes, my slut. She laughed at the role reversal, and he joined her. How often had he fucked her? How often had he taken her in wild and exciting ways? She'd been one for daring adventures--taking out his cock and giving him a handjob as they strapped in and waited in suspense on The Edge at Great America several years ago. He'd never forget the moment of orgasm, exactly when the mechanism released and the two of them were in free-fall for that brief, mind-chilling moment, and then plummeted to the end of the ride.

Two minutes ago she'd begun slowly expanding her fingers like a scissors, widening the diameter of his sphincter, going slowly, cooing to him to keep him relaxed. The state he was in was almost trance-like--his body a wash of pleasurable brushes, sworls of ecstasy and small joys, and yet he knew it was only foreplay. He licked his lips in anticipation, his eyes rolling back. He steadily rolled his hips back against her hand, and she was penetrating him deeper and deeper....

"Are you ready, darling?"

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, yeeeaaaahhhhhhhhh."

Slowly, ever so slowly, she pressed the gargantuan head of the dildo against his lubricated and relaxed anus. He felt her thumb alongside the cockhead, her nail brushing the hair of his crack, and he guessed she was holding the prick like he had on occasions like this, guiding it into him as he'd so often guided himself into her. He smiled at this and resisted the urge to swiftly impale himself on what in a different era and under a different mindset would have been a stake, the instrument of a particular country's mode of execution. He shuddered at the thought and tightened his grip on his ankles. "Mmmmm, baby, you're being good," his lover cooed to him, stroking his sides, relaxing him and expelling the hideous thought. Gently she worked the dildo inside of him, until he was thoroughly stuffed with its long, hard girth. He bit his lip and moaned at the feeling, the first time ever that something larger than a finger had been inside his ass. "Do you like that?" she murmured. He nodded his head vigorously and moaned again; she chuckled and played with his nipples, making him whimper. He felt her other hand snake up his right hip, along his side, tickling his ribs, brushing his angel bone, and caressing the muscles of his neck until her fingers wrapped tightly around a handful of his sandy brown hair, and he arched his head back in her grip. The message was clear: he was completely in her power.

"I love you, baby," she intoned, carefully plunging the entire length into him to the base. Drawing out of him and gently sawing back and forth until she was inside again, she worked towards a gentle, steady motion, what he figured was her getting used to the idea and movements of fucking him. He groaned a low, lusty affirmative back at her, and she hugged his shoulders. He rocked back against her, beginning to move to her rhythm. Grinning, he luxuriated in the way she controlled the flow, enjoying things from the other side.

He couldn't count the number of times he'd taken her--on her belly, on her back, in the shower, on the kitchen counter-top, in the basement when they were going through some of their old things; the times she had seduced him, playing with him under the table as they sat at dinner with their respective parents, or when she'd goaded him into fucking her in the bushes one night while their friends were only fifty yards away and staring through a telescope at the constellations... those were also innumerable. The two of them were made for each other, and she had given herself to him without question. So it was only right that he would finally do this for her. He loved her with every fiber of his being, and he was going to enjoy this total surrender. Feeling her take him now, it was a wonderful new thing. As her dildo slid deep inside him, he grunted and shifted his hips. She began fucking him faster, harder, and at the end of each in-stroke, she rolled her hips, letting the monster harnessed to her waist plunge deeper into him with a twist that sent shudders through every part of his body at once. He could feel his prostate *glow* from the stimulation it was receiving, and he whimpered and moaned his ecstasy.

"You like that baby?" she marveled, again picking up the pace. It was a bit uncomfortable now, but he wasn't about to ask her to stop. Still, she had promised to make it as painless and enjoyable as possible so long as he kept his hands on his ankles....

Fastening his grip tight, he replied, giving his voice just a hint of agony, "Unnggggggh, oohhh, I love it, baby... but... could I have a little more lube on that beast? Please...?"

Behind him, she slowed, pulling out until only the head of that huge cock remained inside him, stretching his well-fucked asshole. He could feel her smiling, "Of course, baby. You've been a very good boy. He heard her squeeze some more Astroglide out of the bottle; the thick, wet, sticky sounds as she slid it up and down the shaft made him hard as steel, his cock bobbing between his legs.

"Mmmmmm, thank-you," he sighed as she slid gently back into him. Working her way back up to her former pace, she bucked her hips against his ass, and he heard her grunts and groans as he suspected the harness was banging and rubbing against her clitoris and her mons. He smiled with satisfaction at the thought that not only was she pleasing him, but she was taking pleasure from fucking him. That made him feel... oddly at peace, and he thrust himself more wildly back at her, "Yes, fuck me, sweetheart! Fuck your slut!"

She laughed good-naturedly, giving him a slap on one of his ass-cheeks, "Yeah, you are my slut," and she gave him a harder, faster pace to buck against. Still, he kept his grip on his ankles secure, and he groaned and wailed as his body thrashed. "You're my big slut," she repeated, "and I love fucking you! Mmmmmm, yeah, oh, yeah!" Again and again she pounded his ass, and eternally he praised her, blessed her name, and cried out in bliss. Finally her fingers slid down from his left hip and encircled his prick. She began jerking on his stick even as she fucked his tight ass.

That was it--he came in spurts, thick white ropes that gobbed onto the hardwood floor and glistened in the lamplight. With each thrust of the dildo against his prostate, another jet of cum sprayed out of his throbbing cock, and he arched his back, pressing his ass back against the giant within him that gave him such joy. "GOD, YESSSSSS!!!" he screamed, and went limp, barely having the strength to keep hold as she had ordered him to do. Somehow he managed it. She'd fucked him, and he'd cum, and he wouldn't be punished.

That wasn't it for her, though. On and on, she pounded him, fucking him harder, faster, and as he heard her gasps rise in pitch and close in frequency with one another, he gathered that she was working towards her own orgasm. She was buggering him past pleasure at this point, but he resolved to help her anyway, without complaining or whining for lube. It would break her rhythm. So as the pain in his ass increased, he bucked harder against the love of his life, acutely aware of what he was doing to himself. He bent his body down as far as he could and arched his ass up as he fucked back at her, mashing the harness against her crotch. Her whimpers and cries soon followed, and her nails dug long furrows into his hips and sides. Still it was worth it as he felt her shuddering behind him, the dildo pressed deep in his bowels, and especially as he heard her blissful shrieks. "FUCK, YES! I'M FUCKING YOU!!!" she howled, heedless of their many neighbors. She let go of his prick then, and suddenly he felt a rush of fluid up his bowels as she squeezed the balls of her dildo, squirting him full of her "cum."

As the moment passed, both of them came down from their mutual high, and their bodies' shaking slowed, but did not stop, fatigue now responsible for the spastic movement of their limbs. Slowly he felt her withdraw the dildo from his ass, felt her hands slide up his sides, to his underarms, tugging on him, "It's okay," she encouraged, pulling again. The artificial slop leaked out of him, and his ass felt so empty. He was so sore from her enthusiasm, but he didn'™t begrudge her a thing. He hoped there wasn't any blood on her cock to betray just how lively they'd gotten, and he wouldn't mention just how sore he was--he feared she'd never do it again if she knew just how much he wanted some asperin right now.

Eventually he let go of his legs, which had gone numb during the experience, and she pulled him to standing on pins and needles as the blood rushed back. He gave her a rueful look over his shoulder, stepping on each foot in place as if the floor were on fire for a moment. Leaning back against her, he luxuriated in the feel of her breasts pressed into his back as he regained his balance. She chuckled a bit, giving him time to adjust, then wrapped her arms around him, her prick dangling between both their pair of legs, tickling his scrotum; he slid his arms in turn up and down her thighs with a low sigh of gratification.

"Mmmmmmm, I love you, dear heart," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"I know," came her whispered reply as she turned him around, "and I love you, too."€ Her mouth pressed against his, opening, her tongue pressing inside. He responded with ardor, matching her passion, holding her tightly to him. They stood that way for several moments, each of them with a cock--hers eternally hard, his now flaccid and glistening with cum, a few drops of which were dripping onto the floor--their arms roving over one another, their mouths and tongues hot and darting back and forth, hungry.

Eventually he pulled back with a crooked grin, "This is gonna be a hideous mess to clean up." She laughed and smiled back at him, kissing him and pulling him again into her arms. "Mmmmm," he sighed, brushing his fingers through her silky hair, pressing himself against her pert breasts once more, those sweet nipples hard as rocks and rubbing against his firm pectoral muscles. "I guess it can wait till tomorrow," he sighed, his hands roaming down to her firm, high ass, squeezing with affection.

"Definitely," she agreed, unbuckling the harness. He reached around to help her, and the strap-on cock quickly fell to the floor, lifeless again. They both looked down at the object, and she was the one to break the silence: "You know, that's only a toy. It will never replace you, baby."

"I know," he purred, lightly tousling her hair. "I wasn't afraid for a moment of that. Of course, if you want to use it on me again sometime..."

She laughed and lead him back to their bedroom, shutting off the light on their way out. "Sure, baby, sure. Maybe next time, when you're not even expecting it...." He felt a thrill run through him as she left those words hanging in the dark, and he reached down to squeeze her ass. The two of them collapsed into bed, kissing and falling asleep in each other's arms.