This story is a continuation of
Lily White.
You really must read that one first, or the characters and situation won't make much sense.
1. But mostly.
It's been a busy week and a half since the Great Upheaval, that wonderful day that I met Antoine, we made glorious love, and I moved in with him, leaving my dead marriage, awakening to the wonder of life, perhaps for the first time since early childhood.
The next day, I collected my clothes, my laptop, and a few other personal effects from the house while Henry was at work. I met (by Zoom) with a divorce lawyer that Antoine found for me; he thinks the settlement can be handled by mediation, which will save on legal fees. I haven't spoken to Henry since I left, and that's just fine with me. I have nothing to say to him, really.
The following day, I saw my gynecologist and got on the pill -- no more condoms, YAY! She was a bit puzzled at my request though: the last time I was in, I wanted fertility therapy. "Different man", I explained. "Ah," she nodded.
The day after that, I disclosed my relationship with Antoine to Ashley, my boss, since our firm has business dealings with his, a potential conflict of interest.
"Good for you, sweetie," she bubbled. "I can see how much happier you are; it's like night and day! Thanks for being upfront about it. But listen, if interior decorators never got it on with sales reps or clients, our industry would have ground to a halt a long time ago. So, by all means, let him screw you; just don't let him screw Ashley Wilton Design Consultants. Got it?"
But mostly... heh-heh... MOSTLY... Antoine and I have been fucking like rabbits.
A couple of days after the Great Upheaval, Antoine started my anal training. Before I met him, the thought of anal sex (if I thought about it at all) disgusted and frightened me. How could any woman ever
want
to let herself be... sodomized? But ever since Antoine mentioned it in passing, that first night, I've been eagerly anticipating what it would be --
will
be -- like, to have that magnificent Black cock of his buried in my ass...
coming
in my ass. Jesus, the thought of it turns me on fiercely, and I've let Antoine know this. That Friday, he came home with a set of "butt plugs", from pinky-sized to extra-large, and a tube of lubricant. I've been wearing them in my anus, for eight hours a day, working my way up the size scale, getting myself increasingly loosened up and ready for the real thing. (I had one in me when I met Ashley for lunch; I wonder what she would have said if she'd known!) And every night, Antoine's been tonguing and fingering my asshole. I've come to love that!
Not that we don't have other kinds of sex too, and plenty of it. I can take Antoine in my cunt easily now: I'm used to him, and he slips right in, all thirteen hard, thick inches of him. The feeling of being stretched deliciously full is still there, and I still feel nice and tight to Antoine, so he tells me; but we don't have to go about it so cautiously and gingerly anymore. The same goes for me taking Antoine in my mouth and throat. Hopefully, it'll be the same for my ass, in the not-too-distant future.
The last two days, I've been wearing the extra-large butt plug -- though even that one is still a good bit smaller than Antoine's cock.
"Tonight's the night, darling," Antoine says in that sexy, dominant voice. We're both naked, in the bedroom. "I'm gonna make love, at last, to that sweet asshole of yours, good and deep." Just the way he says this gets me shivering and trembling, halfway to coming.
"Get in position, baby." I move into doggy position at the edge of the mattress, ass up in the air, face buried in my pillow. Antoine stands behind me. He removes the butt plug. "Gonna lube you up some more." The lube is cold but his fingers are warm; they feel really good in me, opening me up. I'm so ready!
Then I feel the circumcised head of his cock, knocking at my back door, so to speak. This is the moment of truth. I wiggle my ass back onto it, taking it in, working its way through the tight ring of my sphincter -- it's much tighter than the butt plug. But unlike the butt plug, it's warm and alive. More of a challenge, but it feels way better, more thrilling. Antoine chuckles happily.
"Wow, fantastic, bae, you're really taking it! I'm so proud of you. This so sexy... goddamn, I should be filming this, I don't ever want to forget this moment."
"Do you want to go grab your phone?"
"Nah, it's a tempting thought, but I want to focus on enjoying this delicious fat ass; filming would be a distraction."
I don't feel insulted when Antoine refers to my "fat ass." On the contrary, I've been learning just how much Antoine absolutely LOVES my fat body. Or maybe he'd spell it "phat". Coming from him, "fat ass" is a sexy compliment. These days, I look at my 58-inch behind in the bedroom mirror and I think:
OK, I get it.
I admire the way it ripples and judders when I wiggle it. The feeling of liberation -- not needing to be ashamed of my body anymore, or actually taking pleasure in it, even -- is profound. Thank you, Antoine!
But I digress. Back to what's going on in my asshole.
"How are you feeling, darling?"
"It burns a little, but there's no real pain. Give me a minute to get used to it."
"You let me know when you're ready for more."
I take some deep breaths. My sphincter relaxes. I wiggle my fat ass back onto it a little more. Antoine chuckles again: that's the signal that I'm ready. He begins pressing forward, and his hot cock begins sliding in, filling me up. I was expecting him to feed it into me super-slowly, like our first time with vaginal sex, but my anus just seems to welcome him in, like...
where ya been, what took ya so long?
It moves right in, like a hot knife in butter. Before I know it, he's in me all the way. Balls-deep, as they say.
"Holy fuck, Lily!" he gasps. "I'm not gonna last long."
"Don't hold back, honey: I want your come inside me, deep in my ass!"
He begins jack-hammering away deep inside me -- I won't say with all his strength; if he did that, it might put me in the hospital -- but pretty hard and fast. The feeling of unfamiliar extreme fullness gives way to an explosion of weird pleasure, like an orgasmic fire has been lit in my bowels, and it's turning into a conflagration. I'm reaching down between my thighs, frantically slip-sliding my fingers over my throbbing, dripping clit, as Antoine pounds into my ass.
I was fine with this just being for Antoine's pleasure. But damn, the orgasm hits me like a freight train, and I keen with ecstasy. God knows what the neighbors are thinking. It's a good thing there are towels under me, because I'm gushing now like Niagara Falls. (We learned that lesson our first night.)
"Antoine," I scream, "I need it; give it to me! Gimme your come! NOW!!!"
It seems I can do the dominant voice thing too now, heh-heh, because Antoine immediately obeys me, grunting and bellowing like a bull: I feel that huge Black cock twitching as he empties his balls into my rectum, hosing it with his hot come, for what feels like a solid minute. My own orgasm keeps renewing itself, with each hot spurt that I feel. At last, he goes soft and withdraws, followed by an outpouring of semen onto the towel. What a rush it gives me, such a feeling of power, knowing that I've satisfied my man with my ass! I made that mighty Black cock go from hard as rebar to flaccid as a cut of sirloin.
Antoine lies back in bed, and pulls me into his arms. I'm utterly spent, unable to move a muscle, though my legs are still involuntarily trembling.
"Damn, babe. Wow," is all he says. But I know exactly what he means. I'm not feeling too articulate at the moment either.
2. The story.
We lie together like that, recovering, enjoying the sweet post-coital afterglow, for a half hour or so. Eventually, I get up, go to the bathroom and use a wet washcloth to clean the come and lube from my ass. I rinse it out, then bring the washcloth to the bedroom. I clean off Antoine's cock, then give it a kiss.
"I love you, Antoine."
"Thanks bae," Antoine says contentedly. "Love you too. You're amazing, you know that?" He sighs. "I wish I'd met you two years ago."
"You mean, around the time Milena passed away?"
"Yeah. It's been a lonely and dark two years. I'm so glad you're in my life now, bae."
"Me too." I snuggle into him tighter. "Tell me more about Milena," I ask.
"Like... what about her?"
"Well, like... how did it start between the two of you? Is it OK, for me to ask about that?"
"It's fine, bae, I've never been able to talk to anyone about it; we had to keep the sexual thing hidden from others, of course. So, it's good to have you to share the story with." He sighs. "After dad was killed, mom became like, superwoman -- holding it all together for my sake. She kept on helping me with my homework, showing up for all my basketball games, everything, y'know. People think that when you lose a loved one, the hurt heals over time. But it never does. At best, you learn to integrate the pain and loss into your life, you feel me?
