Her pussy is like a warm, wet, tight glove, but I feel her tighten more and more around me and soon I have to fight my way further inside her.
Time to take full control!
“Right,” I say and pull out of her completely but reluctantly and kneel on the bed. “Let’s change position.”
I turn her onto her front and then pull her hips up.
I plant myself between her legs and spread them so that she has to use her energy to focus more on keeping her balance and less on keeping me out.
I slip my cock into her heat and reach around to finger her clit as I sink into her.
“Aw! Aw!” She moans, but I keep going until there’s nothing left outside.
I know it’s mostly fear of the unknown. Some women aren’t built for me and I know them when I encounter them.
Anna’s not one of them.
She’s saying one thing, but her pussy is telling me something entirely different, grabbing and milking my cock, wanting me to fuck it hard and then shoot my cum as far as possible up inside it.
“Your tight pussy has taken every last inch of my eleven-inch cock.” I tell her as I lean over her and take off the blindfold. She gasps and turns her head awkwardly so that our eyes meet. I see the disbelief in her eyes and confirm, “Yes. It knows what it wants even if you don’t.”
“Oh God,” she moans and her face goes a little pink.
“Later, I’ll let you watch, but for now, sweetheart, just relax and let me fuck you.”
She buries her face in the pillows as I grab her big nipples between my fingers and tweak them hard as I start to stroke back and forth inside her.
“So...fucking...sweet,” I tell her, nibbling on the side of her neck in between the words. “So tight...so deep...so soft...so wet.”
I slowly increase my pace until she’s tilting up and pushing her ass back at me as I come forward and moaning, “Yes! Yes! Oh God, yes!”
I move one hand down to her clit as I start to firmly but gently slam into her with each stroke.
Soon she lifts her head and starts to bang her hips against me like the wild woman I knew she could be. For a few minutes the room is filled with the sound of my big cock plundering her small, tight, wet pussy. It’s an unmistakable sound and one I love to hear.
“Say my name,” I demand. “Tell me how much you’re enjoying my cock.”
I act the gentleman for some women—it’s what they need—but for others I act like a porn star, not letting them forget that we’re fucking not making love.
I’m deliberately using words like ‘cock’, ‘pussy’ and ‘fuck’ to bring out Anna’s inner wild woman.
She doesn’t realize it, but she gets turned on by crude, carnal language.
It’s clear that they are not words she uses or maybe even secretly thinks, but I want them to be a part of her by the time she leaves tomorrow.
I want her to remember this night with clarity.
I want her to remember every touch, every penetration and every word.
She doesn’t reply for a minute, too lost in pleasure I can tell from the frantic movement of her hips.
“Or shall I stop fucking you, so that you can put on your clothes and—?”
“Nooo!” she begs, reaching back with her right hand to hold on to my thigh. “It feels good, Roger.”
“Better than your bunnies?”
“A hundred times!” she gasps.
“Not a thousand?” I tease as I apply a little pressure to her slippery clit and start to treat her to some firmer slams of my hips.
“A thousand...fuck me, Roger! A million...times better.” She’s backing her ass against me furiously now. “Yes! Fuck me!”
Stilling for a moment, she then comes with a few extra wiggles of her ass.
The night is young and I’m not ready to come yet.
I keep pumping into her and feel her juices flow over my cock; she’s a mini-squirter I’d realized when she came on my face earlier.
I like that.
I like the fact that she gets so wet, her juices run out of her. It’s her pussy’s way of telling me it wants my cock so much, it’s weeping for it.
Occasionally I have to use lube with a woman.
Anna has plenty of her own.
Did I say that I like that fact?
I straighten her legs, one after the other, until she’s flat on the bed,
Then without pulling out—my cock doesn’t want to leave her tight nook—I roll with her and our positions are reversed.
“I’m going to crush you,” she protests and tries to move off me.
“I’m heavier than you,” I tell her and trap her in place with my arms. “I weigh almost 3½ lbs to the inch.”
She relaxes against me and I know that her keen accountant’s brain has already done the calculation.
From our three previous conversations I know she’s bright.
I think about the other things she’s told me as we lie for a minute or two catching our breaths back.
She does a 4-day week at her job because that’s more than enough money for her needs. She also does it to achieve work life balance and spends Fridays attending pottery classes.
“Look at us in the mirror,” I say to her.
She looks up and sees the mirror above us for the first time.
“Oh my God!” she gasps.
“Look how beautiful your breasts are.” I pull the nipples into standing peaks and then place my hands under each of the orbs to cup and support them. “And now open your legs and see my cock buried in your sweet little pussy.”
She obeys and I have to admit it’s an awesome sight. Several inches of my dick are outside because of our position and her plump ass, but the remainder is sunk deep inside her.
Her pussy lips stretch tight around my shaft and as I lift my hips and sink an inch or so deeper, they fold inwards with the motion.
“Look how tight you are, baby.”
“Oh my God!” she says again, but she can’t look away.
I give her several more thrusts, but it’s not the ideal position.
“Let me get you into the right position,” I say.
She rolls off me and soon I have her on the edge of the bed, legs on the floor, thighs sprawled open.
“Play with your nipples,” I instruct her as I take my cock in hand and point it at her tight little hole again. “And open wide for me.”
Her pussy is slippery wet and I sink deep before I encounter real resistance. I pause and circle her clit with my thumb as soon her pussy is sucking my cock inside almost before I can shove it myself.
“You have such a warm eager pussy,” I tell her as I finally sink to the hilt. I swat until I’m the right height and then start to work smoothly in and out of her, coming almost all the way out before driving forward again. “It’s a joy to fuck.”
“I can’t believe you can fit inside me,” she says quietly, almost to herself.
“I need cock rings for some women, but you are naturally deep.”
Her face flushes and she immediately turns it away.
“That’s a good thing,” I tell her, hitching her body further up the bed as I come over her. “I hate cock rings.”
“You do?”
“Hate them with a passion,” I confirm with a smile. “Wouldn’t wear them if I didn’t have to.”
She smiles back and I kiss her as I start to move again.
Her legs come up and wrap around my hips, allowing me the freedom to move backwards to my desired distance, but pressing me deeper on my forward stroke.
“You’re made for sex,” I tell her as I break the kiss and clamp my lips around her right nipple.
She cups her hand under it and raises it so that I don’t have to stretch my neck too far.
Fuck if she didn’t innocently trigger my breastfeeding fetish.
Fuck if she isn’t going to make me come harder than I have in a while.
I get off on the idea that I’m buried in virgin pussy—her bunnies don’t count—and the knowledge that her ass won’t escape a good pounding. Not if I can help it.
She’s soft and firm and so fucking delicious I could fuck her solidly for the next week.
I had planned to make her come a couple of times more before I come myself, but it’s too late.
I start to really pump into her.
“Yes...yes...yes!” She comes seconds later.
“I’m going to come too, baby.” I keep pounding into her, my balls tight with spunk, until finally I can’t hold back any longer. “I’m going to flood your tight pussy...with my...cum.”
“Yes, come inside me, Roger.” She wraps her arms tightly around me and I lose it.
“There!” I shoot the first load into her and then several more in quick bursts until my balls are empty. “There! There! Fuck!”
For a moment I lie heavily on top of her, glad that she’s built to take my weight. She caresses my back as though she understands that I’m drained and need a couple of minutes to recover. Her hand is so plump and soft it’s like being touched by a feather. It’s arousing and comforting at the same time and my cock begins to stir inside her.
I could so easily fuck her again right now, but there were other things to do at the moment.
I cup my hands over her smooth shoulders and lie on top of her for a few minutes, supporting my weight with my arms as we exchange a few soft kisses.
“Hungry?” I ask her as I finally roll off her and to the side.
“I’ve already had dinner.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.” I get off the bed and pull her off to stand in front of me. “How about grilled wild salmon, new potatoes with dill, marinated cherry tomato salad and roasted broccoli?”
“Are we going to cook it?”
“You’re going to sit and sip wine while I cook,” I correct her. “Everything is prepped. We’ll be eating in fifteen minutes.”
“Okay,” she agrees and I lead her by the hand out of the bedroom.
She doesn’t want to mix wines, so she sips on a glass of the pinot noir we will have with the meal, instead of the chilled chardonnay I had planned to pour for her.
I’m comfortable around the kitchen and have no problem with her watching me as I quickly throw the meal together.
“You know your way around the kitchen, don’t you?” she comments as I deftly turn the salmon and reveal the symmetrically-spaced char marks on the skin.
“Once I decided to improve my appearance, I learned to cook to ensure that I knew exactly what I was putting into my body.”
“It smells amazing.”
“And it will taste...” I walk over to the high stool she’s sitting on, still naked, and pull a nipple into my mouth and then let it slide out slowly. “...as good as you do.”
She laughs.
I know she’s watching my butt as I walk back to the stove.
She’d wanted to cover herself but I had forbidden it; I’m still naked except for the apron covering my man bits.
My state-of-the-art heating system keeps the entire house at a comfortable temperature. When I’m alone I usually don’t bother with clothes, but I gallantly offer her one of my robes before we sit down to enjoy the meal; I don’t want her too self conscious to enjoy it.
I stay naked.
I serve up the meal and as we eat we discuss exercise, fitness and diets, specifically diet foods and why they are bad for you as opposed to foods that are naturally low fat or low in calories.
“Cooking your meals from scratch is the key,” I tell her. “Plan your menus at least a week ahead and it will be easier than you think.”
“That’s okay for you to say,” she replies. “You’re a great cook. My food never tastes as good as the ready-made Marks & Spencer meals I live on.”
“I wasn’t at first,” I tell her. “It takes practice and good cookbooks, but once you master cooking you will really start to enjoy it. If you must have takeaways, have them once a week, as a treat on Thursday or Friday to celebrate the end of your working week.”
“I guess I can do that.” She smiles. “It will be tough because at the moment I sometimes have three a week, Thursdays to Saturdays, and a different cuisine each night. Thai’s my favourite, but I also like Indian, Italian and Chinese.”
“You can cook all those cuisines yourself, if you get the right cookbooks,” I say. “And it would cost a lot less than you’re spending right now.”
“Okay. I’ll give it a try.” She spears a tomato with her fork and pops it into her mouth. “This is so delicious!”
She’d told me on the phone that she loves love seafood, especially salmon.
“And yet it took me no time to prepare and as you saw, less than fifteen minutes to cook.”
“The salmon is perfectly cooked. I’m always wary of ordering it, even when I’m dining in pricey restaurants because it’s so easy for it to be overdone and rubbery. This is perfection.”
“That’s the beauty of cooking for yourself.”
“I know.” She gives a small sigh. “The problem is that I’ve always asked myself, ‘why slave over a hot stove when supermarkets sell tasty ready meals?’”
“Because ready meals have little nutritional value and are loaded with a lot of sugar and salt, and other things that are bad for you!” I tell her sternly. “So promise me that you will at least try it for a month.”
“I promise.” She smiles and though I know that she can ignore what I’ve said, I get the feeling that she would give it a go, even if it’s for a lesser time. “And I’ll even try to cut back on my chocolate consumption. Honestly if I could stop eating chocolate altogether, I would probably be anorexic.”
“It’s scientifically proven that chocolate is good for you. You just have to choose the healthier versions, like dark instead of milk and quality brands instead of the sugar-laden junk you find in every supermarket and corner shop.”
“I’m not that fussy when it comes to chocolate,” she replies. “I eat milk, dark and white.”
“Just how much chocolate do you actually eat each day?” I ask surprised.
Most people have a preference of milk or dark.
She had told me on the phone that she was a chocoholic, but now I’m beginning to think that she consumed a lot more of the stuff than I’d imagined.
“Put it this way: if you were made of chocolate, I would probably finish you in a day,” she jokes.
“I would enjoy been eaten by you...especially if you started with my cock.”
She laughs and I get up to grab the chocolate-covered strawberries I made for dessert from the fridge.
“Oh my God, these look too pretty to eat.” She takes one as I offer the bowl and immediately sinks her teeth into it. “Mmmm. This is positively sinful.”
“I made them myself,” I tell her smugly.”
“Liar!”
“Honestly.” They hadn’t taken much effort. “They’re easy to make. You just need large, very fresh strawberries and the finest quality chocolate you can afford.”
“The taste is very intense.” She bites off the last bit of strawberry and places the stalk on the edge of her almost-empty plate.
“It’s a great way of getting at least one of your 5-a-day.” I pick up one myself and bite it almost down to the stem. “I usually make chocolate-covered Brazil nuts. They last longer and taste just as good.”
“And strangely...” she picks up another one and nibbles on the end of it “though I could be greedy and finish the whole bowl, I think two will be enough for me.” She takes another little bite and amends. “At least for now.”
“The better the quality the less you need to satisfy your craving.”
“I can believe that.” She takes a last bite, places the end on the plate and sits back on her chair. “The flavour is so intense...so complex, you feel the need to take your time and savour each bite.”
“That’s the way all food should be enjoyed,” I say as I get up to gather the dishes. “Eating is a pleasure that shouldn’t be rushed. Too many people just scoff food down without really tasting it.”
“I’m one of them,” she admits. “When I get home in the evenings, I just heat up a frozen meal, plonk it on a tray and plant myself in front of the TV. Most times I’m not aware that the food is finished until I put my fork into the container and find that there’s nothing left.”
“You should always...always eat at the table.” My hands are full of dishes, so I nod towards the table. “I eat alone most nights, but this is pretty much the way I set the table every night.”
“You do?” Her eyes twinkle with laughter, but she manages to hold it back.
“Yes,” I confirm. “Dinner is my time to unwind. I listen to the radio or some jazz, but I don’t bring my phone or any reading material to the table. I like to focus mainly on what I’m eating.”
“That’s supposed to be quite good for you. I read it somewhere...a yoga book I think. It said focussing on your food while eating, helps you know when you’re full, so that you don’t overeat.” She pauses and then smiles. “But, even when I sit at the table, I’m busy looking at Facebook or Twitter.”
“I sign off both FB and Twitter at six every evening...if I’d looked at them at all that day. I always think that whatever’s happening in the world will probably no better or worse by the next morning—no point in letting it disturb my sleep.”
“I wish I could do that!” She laughs aloud. “There are times I wake up in the middle of the night, just to check Twitter on my phone for breaking news.”
“I need to switch off,” I say as I move towards the kitchen. “I’m a full-time volunteer for a suicide helpline and that can be draining.”
I quickly stack the dishwasher and tidy the kitchen.
“You volunteer full time on a helpline?” I can see that she’s looking at me with new eyes when I return to the table.
“9-5, Monday to Friday,” I confirm.
“Don’t you find it depressing?”
“No. If I can help one person, then it’s worth it. I also know that I will be of no use to anyone, if I don’t think of it as a job and totally switch off when I put the phone down on my last call of the day.” I take her hand and pull her to her feet. “I do this on Saturdays and completely rest on Sundays.” I give her a wolfish smile. “Speaking of which...now that I’ve fed you, I’m going to fuck you some more.”
She whirls and races to the bedroom with me chasing after her.
We fall onto of the bed, me on top of her.
“Perfect position for a little ass-fucking,” I say as I rub my hardening cock between the crack of her ass.
“Are you sure you aren’t too big?”
I like the fact that she’s worried about my size, not about having anal.
“I’ve got plenty of lube,” I tell her and pick up my almost full 250ml bottle of clear anal lubricant from the table and show it to her. “And I will take my time. I won’t tear you, I promise.”
“Okay,” she agrees, still sounding a bit unsure.
I turn her over and put my hand under her chin, so that she’s looking at me.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Anal sex isn’t something to be rushed.” I stroke the side of her smooth face with my thumb. “I will use my fingers to prepare you until you’re relaxed and open before I start. And you can stop me at any time.”
“Are you sure that you’ll be able to stop?”
“Yes. I won’t stop if you’re moaning from pleasure or sweet pain, but say the word ‘stop’ clearly and I will immediately.”
“Okay.”
“You have a beautiful ass.” I run my hand down her body and stroke the soft skin of her behind. “Any man you meet will want to fuck it. I hadn’t planned on anal tonight, but your sweet ass has tempted me.”
“I always think it’s too big.”
“It’s big and round and a perfect heart shape,” I say as I prop her hips up on some pillows. “I could admire it all day. If it had its own website, I would pay money to log on just to see it.”
She laughs and relaxes more fully onto the bed.
I spread her cheeks and use my tongue to soften her anus. The ring of muscles stay tightly clenched at first, but I persist until I get my tongue past them.
“Ohhh!” she moans as I stab it fully inside her.
I do it a couple more time before I lube two fingers and stretch her opening as I push them to the knuckle.
“Your ass is just as responsive as your pussy,” I tell her as I add some more lube and squeeze another finger inside her. “Just stay nice and relaxed for me.”
So far she’s being surprisingly relaxed and I know that the wine she’d consumed had something to do with it. She isn’t drunk—she’d had another glass of wine with her meal, but she’d said that she ate out a lot and was used to having wine with her meals—but the wine is making her more mellow than she would have been dead sober.
“You’ve done well,” I soon tell her, pressing four fingers inside her to the knuckles and circling them to open her further. “Now you’re ready for me.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, tightening momentarily around my fingers.
“I’m positive,” I reply, keeping the fingers of my right hand inside her and awkwardly applying lube to my cock from tip to base with my left hand. “I will slide inside you like a greased piston.”
I pull my fingers free and try to get inside before her muscles retract, but I still have to jab at them several times before the head of my cock slips in.
“Aw!” she moans and reaches back to sink her fingernails into my thigh.
They’re short but still get in deep enough to cause me discomfort.
“Do you want me to stop?”
I know she doesn’t but again I want her to say it.
I want her to remember that I’m fucking her because she wants me to.
I want her to remember that she’s in control.
“No,” she moans. “Just take it slowly.”
“Don’t worry, baby,” I promise, sinking a little deeper. “I’ll take it nice and slow.”
Using an extra dollop of lube for every inch or so, I work my full length gradually into her tight asshole.
And all the while she moans and groans, but never tells me to stop.
“You’re taken it all, sweetness,” I tell her and for a couple minutes I concentrate on carefully thrusting back and forth. “How does it feel?”
“Strange...but good.” Her hips begin a slight wiggling movement as she seems to relax. “Amazing.”
“It looks incredible,” I tell her. It really did—my cock, hard and red, between the soft snowy pillows of her behind. “You should see how beautiful it looks.”
“I wish I could.”
Her answer surprises me for a second, but then I remember the avid way she’d looked at our joined bodies in the mirror.
“I could take some shots if you want me to?” I suggest.
“Shots?”
“It’s an instant camera and you get all the photos.” I lean over and try to open the bottom drawer of the bedside table, but it’s too far away. Fuck if I’m going to leave her warm tight hole for anything. “Reach into that drawer and see if you can grab it.”
She’s nearer and easily grabs hold of my Polaroid Impossible.
She checks, I guess to ensure that it is an instant.
“Okay,” she says, and then hands it to me.
I take several quick shots and pass them to her, including one with just the tip of my cock inside her, to remind her of the length she’s capable of taking.
As she waits for the images to develop, I start to move faster. Short strokes at first, because her tight ass won’t let go of my cock, but increasing with each thrust.
“Oh my God!” There’s real shock in her voice.
I look up and the first image is coming into view. It’s an extreme close-up and the base of my cock looks massive.
“Just beautiful,” I tell her and come down over her and cup her breasts, sensing that she needs reassurance. I pick up another photo and show it to her. “Your ass is like alabaster. Look how hard my cock is for you and look how your little asshole is hugging it tight like it doesn’t want to let it go.”
“You’re full of shit.” She lets out a strangled laugh.
“You have one of the sweetest asses I’ve ever fucked,” I tell her as I start to stroke her clit.
“Really?”
I can tell she’s pleased by the compliment.
“Honestly,” I assure her as I straighten and grab hold of her hips. I keep her firmly in place as I start to work smoothly in and out of her. I don’t want to tear her or make her too sore. “And I’ve ass-fucked hundreds of women.”
“You have such a dirty mouth.”
“I know,” I reply without shame. “Play with yourself.”
She chuckles quietly and puts down the photo she’d been holding to reach backwards to place one hand on her clit and the other on her breast.
“Yes, baby.” I feel the instant softening of her anus and take full advantage of it, by first pressing my cock deeper and then quickening my pace. “Fucking your ass is like fucking a dream.”
“Fuck it for me, Roger.” I feel her fingers reaching into her pussy, filling her emptiness and stroking against my cock at the same time. “Oh God, fuck it for me!”
“My pleasure, baby.”
“Fuck it...good.”
“Your wish, baby” ― I quicken my pace ― “is my command.”
“Hurts so good...so good,” she mumbles.
I smile and add a little rotating twist to the movement of my hips.
She’s easily in the top three of my all-time favourite ass-fucks. The other two had been total virgins, which had added that something extra to my pleasure, but Anna’s ass is almost the perfect balance of resistance and yield. The use of her bunny in the last couple of months had made her easier to break in, but still left her incredibly tight.
“Yes...yes...good...so good.” Once again she starts backing up against me, taking everything I’ve got to give. I’m...coming.”
Her anal passage sucks me deeper and deeper as she orgasms. I close my eyes as my balls tighten, a telltale sign that I can’t hold out for much longer, and it isn’t long before I join her with a loud groan.
Again I just lie on top of her, enjoying the soft cushion of her body before I finally roll off her and the bed. “I’ll be back.”
I have a pee and then clean my cock thoroughly. He’s had his ass; it will be pussy for the rest of the night for me.
When I get back to the bed, I put my arm around her and pull her in close so that her head is on my shoulder. We stay like this for several minutes, not saying a word
Finally I pick up the photos and we have a look through them.
“They look like porn!” she complains, but her eyes are riveted.
“But porn that you made,” I remind her.
“My anus is stretched so wide.”
“And yet, you’re not in pain, are you?”
“It aches...but there’s no real pain.”
“Your skin’s got great elasticity.” I cup her left breast and we both watch as I knead it with my fingers. The resilient flesh gives easily under pressure but snaps back as soon as it’s released. “You will age well.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know bodies,” I tell her. “And you’re luckier than you realize.”
“Why do you say that?” She bends her arm and props her head onto it to look down at me.
“Your body is firm although you don’t exercise.”
“If I lose weight I will probably end up with bags of loose skin.”
“That’s why I advised you not to diet,” I reminded her. “You don’t have to starve yourself or try to lose weight quickly. If you eat more healthily and exercise, it will slowly but surely come off. Make it a long-term goal—something like: get fit or get the body you want by your thirty-fifth or fortieth birthday.”
***