PENCIL DICK
She took my ass on a filthy bedspread at a motel on Cheshire Bridge, the kind of scumbag place that didn’t offer its disreputable patrons soap or towels or even toilet paper, the kind of place that you could rent by the hour. I was facedown in my own ejaculation, tits smashed into the mattress, my legs spread open by her knees, my insides feeling torn open all along the length of my spine. In short, I was in high femme heaven.
I have the tightest little asshole in the world, I swear it. I have references that will attest to this fact. It could take a small construction company to drill and pound and crack it open. But she was game—if game meant long and mean and strong enough to pin me down and crack me open. She seemed to be enjoying herself back there, making wiseass comments in that Southern drawl I was half-wild for, hissing things like, “You are such a cock-teasing whore.” There is not much a filthy girl like me would not give for moments like this, and if my asshole had to be sacrificed I’d be the first to offer it up like a lamb.
How I came to be in this whorish position has much to do with my big mouth and less to do with her being the finest butch this side of the Mississippi. I’ll admit I was a bit full of bravado the night we met. Fresh from a promotion to Practice Manager at the clinic, I was raucously celebrating at Mary’s Bar with a cluster of gay boys every bit as femme as I. I spotted her the instant she strutted in with a cool butch swagger that soaked my pussy. You know the kind of butch I’m talking about, a salt-and-pepper Daddy who makes you want to fall over onto your back and spread your legs before she even says hello. What was a femme to do but tease and flirt and eye that bulge in her jeans suggestively?
Okay, so I crossed a line when I began bragging about what a size queen I am. Indeed, my exact words may have been, “Being a filthy whore, I can take it up the ass.” I did not feel compelled to tell her that the only thing I had ever actually had up my ass was an embarrassingly small, alarmingly blue cock my ex strapped on and tried to squeeze inside my hole while I clamped it tightly closed and sobbed into my pillow. At the time, I lovingly referred to this appendage as “pencil dick.” At this very moment, with a gorgeous stud leaning against me and the slickness between my thighs making me disoriented, pencil dick had taken on enormous proportions in my mind. Surely it was ten inches thick and I had opened up easily for every inch? Unfortunately for me, that was the tale I chose to tell on this night. My misrepresentation of facts, fueled by lust, was to seal my fate: my challenge was met with a smirk and a dare, and a date was set. The game was on.
The morning of our first date, if you could actually call it a date, found me in an aisle of CVS, pondering the enemas. A girl had to be clean, did she not? The products displayed before me were ugly and medicinal. As skeptical as I was that I could take her butch cock in my ass, I felt desirous and full of feminine power, and did not want an ugly enema in my handbag ruining my mood. I perused the aisles until I found exactly what I wanted in the baby section. A pretty pink ear syringe should do the trick quite nicely. Perfect.
Preparation has always been my favorite foreplay, and I have been known to devote hours to the task. Pampering, self-indulgent bathing and primping, donning skimpy lingerie (or none) beneath skimpier dresses, the cherry on top a carefully selected and always killer pair of stilettos.
By the time I left the house I was already slick. My skin gleamed creamily, I was surrounded by an airy cloud of Vera Wang, and my holes—every last one of them—were clean and sparkling like polished gems. I was ready, and convinced my latest conquest could hear my heart hammering as I pulled into the parking lot.
Her choice of motels was fitting, with just the right amount of seediness to make me feel as if I were in the midst of a slightly dangerous, very sleazy act. She had texted that she was waiting for me in room 115. I paused outside the door to gain my composure. I was so hot for her, and my lust was dancing battles with my trepidation. I barely knew her, I didn’t know how my ass would ever take that gargantuan rubber cock up inside it and what if she opened the door and I felt, well, nothing? Desire could come and go at a moment’s whim, I knew that, and I feared mine for her was mostly in my head.
Taking a decisive breath, I lifted my hand to knock just as the door burst open. An enormous shit-eating grin on her face, she grabbed my arms and pulled me into the room, kicking the door shut behind her. The instant her mouth seized mine, all doubts slipped from my mind and I moaned, melting against her broad chest. My nails dug hungrily into her shoulders and our kiss became frenzied. I moved closer to grind myself into her crotch, and moaned again when I felt that bulge against my pussy. My legs opened of their own volition, and her grip on my arms tightened in response to my obvious need for her. I don’t know what came over me, but I was rubbing my clit on her jeans and crying out and clutching at her. I was completely undone. I threw my head back and shouted out as I came with an abandonment that rendered me utterly useless.
She laughed in delight and lifted me into her arms. I wrapped my legs around her waist and threw my arms around her neck as she carried me to the bed. She laid me on it as if I were a priceless package and stared down at me like she couldn’t wait to unwrap me.
Slowly, I lifted my little dress up over my hips, exposing myself to her. I spread my legs and offered myself up to her. She groaned and rubbed her cock through her jeans. One knee on the bed, she leaned over me and yanked my straps from my shoulders and down over my tits. My nipples hardened at the sudden cold air and her piercing stare on them.
She groaned low in her throat and swung one lean, hard leg over me, straddling me around my waist. I shivered deliciously at the sound of her zipper and the promise behind it. She untucked her cock and pulled it out, rubbing her hand up and down the shaft and smirking at me as I thrashed beneath her. How I needed that dick deep inside my pussy, and I mean yesterday.
She leaned forward and slapped my face with her cock, teasing me, provoking a response. How could I do anything but give it to her? My tongue chased it, aching to lap and lick. I cried out in frustration when she denied me.
“Not yet, whore. Maybe later.”
Abruptly, she stood and crossed her arms, her cock dangling mockingly between her legs.
“Are you clean?” Her question felt more demand than inquiry.
I nodded.
“Answer me when I speak to you.”
“Yes,” I replied instantly.
“Are you sure? If you get my dick dirty I’ll make you lick it off.”
I hesitated, than asked permission to use the bathroom. She granted it with a curt nod, and I scrambled for my purse and the relative privacy of the toilet.
It was dank and filthy in the bathroom, but I relished the time alone to collect myself. I removed my newly purchased pink ear dropper and filled it with murky water from the sink. Crouching over the toilet, I filled my ass and released. Again. I cringed at the involuntary noises, hoping she couldn’t hear me through the all too thin motel walls. Convinced there could not possibly be anything left inside me, I exited and stood before her once more, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Her eyes were kind, her mouth slightly upturned in what may have been a smile. My shoulders relaxed a bit and I moved toward her.
“I’m ready,” I whispered, suddenly shy.
She inclined her head toward the bed, and I crawled onto it and lay on my back.
“Take off your clothes and roll over.”
Slowly I removed my dress, the air-conditioned room chilling my skin. I hesitated, then left my heels on, feeling less vulnerable with the spiky points of my stilettos as a sort of femme crutch.
I rolled onto my stomach and waited.
She grabbed my hips and pulled me back toward her, lifting my ass high into the air.
“Perfect,” she murmured, running her hands over my rounded buttocks, squeezing until I yelped at the pinch of pain. She slapped my cheeks hard and fast, and heat spread through me.
I heard her rummaging around behind me and I held my breath, quivering with anticipation.
“Don’t worry, doll baby, I’m opening you up first.”
She worked my hole, rubbing thick lube around the opening. Her fingers plunged inside, first one, then two, and I moaned in protest when she withdrew them.
I felt cold hard rubber at the opening of my asshole. She began rubbing it slowly, achingly slowly, until I arched my back with desire, forcing the tip into my hole. Once inside she froze, leaving me wanting. I whimpered and squirmed on it, forcing it in a bit more, stopping at the quick stab of pain.
“That’s it, whore,” she whispered, “that’s it.”
She slid the rubber—what was it she was using?—in and out of my ass, increasing the depth with each push forward. I clutched the bedspread and thrashed and groaned, hungry for more despite the hurt and my anxiety. Harder and harder she moved it inside me, my cries escalating as I neared orgasm. She put her hand on the flat of my back, forcing me onto the mattress. One quick thrust and it was in as far as it could reach, filling me completely.
“Mmm, girl, you like my anchor, don’t you?”
I nodded, then, remembering her instructions, I managed to croak, “Yes.”
“I’ve got you right where I want you.”
With excruciating slowness, she pulled the anchor inch by inch out of my ass, each movement causing spasms of need. When she pulled it completely out, leaving me open and wanting, I felt bereft.
Again, she slid a couple of fingers into my ass and rotated them.
“Good,” she said. “Better.”
I lay panting where she had left me, listening intently for sounds that would tell me what to expect next.
“On your hands and knees.”
I rose into the air, limbs trembling with fear and lust and a massive hunger to be used by her. She grabbed my waist and pulled my ass back toward her. I heard the sound of a condom wrapper, her grunt of effort, my own heart pounding in my chest. Now. Now.
She leaned over and crooned in my ear, “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll go easy on you. At least at the beginning.”
She chuckled and positioned herself behind me.
The first thrust was a sharp tear along my spine. I fell face forward onto the mattress, crying out. The pain was too much, too much, and I struggled beneath her as if to flee.
“Shh. Whore, didn’t you say you could take this? Relax. Breathe. Breathe.”
Breathing seemed to require every last vestige of concentration I had remaining, but I managed to gasp out a long exhale. I tried to relax my muscles, despite the searing pain. Patiently, she waited until I composed myself.
“There. The worst part is over. Now you had better keep me in.”
She shifted her hips slightly and the pain intensified. Her movements were almost tender, and I felt the tension drain from my body as she took me. She pushed in all the way, allowing my sudden sharp cry of outrage, and she was still.
She paused, and began moving her cock in quick short jabs, gradually increasing the length and speed until my ass was being rapid-fire fucked. I may have been screaming, the pain unlike any I had ever experienced, but damn if I wasn’t enjoying myself. It wasn’t long before I was bucking wildly beneath her, shouting jubilantly. She grunted in time with her jackhammer thrusts, obviously getting off on taking me, and I was so hot for her it became unbearable. I shifted enough to slide my hand between my legs, fingering my pussy and rubbing my clit while she rammed me. Minutes, hours, I lost track of time. I lost track of everything but the glorious release as I came more explosively than at any time I could recall.
I lay splayed on the bed, unable to move, but still she pounded into me. I was certain I was torn open, so raw and sore I wasn’t sure I could take another moment. I struggled to remember our agreed upon safeword, when she stopped moving. Her hands gripped my waist, her breath ragged in my ear, her cock plunged so deep I was sure she was in me up to my eyeballs. Her body jerked once, twice, then she came with a soft, low cry that soaked my cunt all over again. Spent, she fell on top of me and we were both still.
She felt wonderful on top of me, the full weight of her body curled around me. I sighed dreamily and nestled in, feeling satiated, if not downright smug. A small smile flitted about my mouth.
“Mmm.” As if she shared my feelings, she murmured in contentment.
She shifted and touched my hair gently.
“Girl, I’m coming out now.”
I nodded, bracing myself for what I was sure would be more agonizing pain, but she moved out of my ass smoothly and easily.
She pulled the condom off her dick, tossing it on the floor, than lay propped up on one elbow. She looked so damn sexy and just a bit vulnerable. It made me bold enough for the truth.
“Hey, I have a confession to make,” I began.
“Shh.” She put a finger on my lips and smiled. “I know all about your confession, girl. Why do you think I went easy on you this time?”
I blushed and looked away. Then, realizing the implications of what she had just said, I raised my eyes to hers once more.
“This time? Does that mean, well, that there will be another time?”
She laughed wickedly, a sound that reverberated on my clit.
“Silly whore, I’m not done with you yet! In fact, I’m pretty sure I said I’d let you blow me if you took it like a good girl. That pretty mouth of yours should be used for more than getting yourself into trouble.”
So excited at the prospect of that huge rubber dick in my mouth, I all but clapped my hands and did a cartwheel. She was still laughing when she reached over to grab another condom from the nightstand.