NOBODY’S BUSINESS
C. Thompson

I gotta admit it. I have this thing for ass-fucking. Am I a pervert? Maybe. But I don’t care. If it works for me and my lover, then it’s nobody else’s business, right? Don’t ask, don’t tell—you know what I’m saying? The truth is, I appreciate every part of the equation, from checking out a pair of well-packed jeans, to revealing the naked haunches of a new lover, to slip-sliding my tool inside that tightest of entryways. I collect experiences, returning to my favorites over and over again in my mind. These images are better than fantasies, because they’re real.

The summer after graduating college, I had an “ass fling” with a beautiful girl. From the first time I saw her, I knew we were going to fuck, and do it the way I like—hard and raw, skin connecting with skin. Charlene was twenty-four, built slender but with corded muscles. Her golden hair fell forward over a sun-kissed face. Light played tricks in her eyes, turning them gray one instant and pure silver the next. She shined, no question about it. She had an innocent quality that drew people to her.

And she had an ass that made me dizzy.

Whenever she wore her tight, faded jeans, I would lose myself in instant daydreams starring her tied down to my bed and me wielding my mammoth hard-on. I wanted to fuck her, but I also wanted to watch her being fucked, to see her face grow flushed, her eyes shut tight with the confusion a pleasure that decadent would bring. I had visions of slipping off her well-worn jeans, of oiling up her asshole with my spit and ravaging her from behind.

Charlene worked in an office building that houses the record company that produces my band. She served coffee and sweets in the downstairs café. You might not put us together naturally. I’m all Hollywood rock ’n’ roll. Tall, tattooed and thin, with dark hair and shadowy eyes. I wear a standard uniform of black jeans and black T-shirts every day of the year, and I pull my long hair off my face into a ponytail unless I’m playing. Then I let it loose and wild, to whip around me as I move. And while Charlene’s skin is bronzed from healthy weekends spent outdoors, I’m as pale as they come from long days spent in cave-like clubs rehearsing and performing. Yet we fit together, fit like pieces in a fantasy puzzle, my cock buried to the hilt in her perfect ass, shame coloring her cheeks an electric rose.

Every single time I went into the café, I sent her silent messages with my eyes. I’d buy a nectarine from the basket on the counter, and while she rang it up, I’d think about squeezing the ripe fruit in my hands until it dripped sticky sap on her body. My eyes flickered with images of lubing her asshole with the flesh from a melon, of pulling down my jeans and fucking her. Just fucking her.

Of course, I’ve been fucked this way, myself. I’m not one to dish out what I can’t take. My introduction to the world of anal delights is clear in my memory. Not only do I possess a mental movie of that night, I remember the soundtrack, the words spoken, as well. My college girlfriend liked to talk while we fucked. Whenever we messed around, Veronica kept up a running monologue, telling me what she was going to do a split second ahead of time. She liked me because I’m the strong, silent type. I let her ramble, got into the melody of it, grooved on the sound of her voice.

On the night of my first ass-fucking, she asked for permission first. “Really?” I said. “You’d like that?” Yeah, I knew she was edgier than most of the coeds I knew, but this managed to surprise even me.

She was alive with nervous energy, moving too quickly around the room, gathering her toys, her implements, promising me that I’d love every minute. Curiosity piqued, I let her bend me over the green comforter on her bed, and I waited as she got her strap-on cock wet with lube. Then she pressed her lips to my ear and hissed, “Kelly, I’m gonna take your back door.”

Honestly, I wasn’t sure how to feel about this. But deep down, I wanted to know what it would be like. And Veronica understood this. She wrapped her arms around me and slid the head of her cock between my asscheeks. As she pressed forward slowly, she said, “Relax, baby, let me in.” I took a deep breath, feeling the bulging head of her cock pushing forward, and I clenched. I couldn’t help it. My entire body tensed so tightly I felt as if my muscles were on lockdown.

Veronica knew exactly what to do. She wrapped one fist around my cock and pumped up and down. Then she started in with what she did best: talking. Her voice was soothing. “This turns you on so much, Kelly, just the thought of it. Look at how hard your cock is. Now you’ve gotta open up for me.”

My body would not obey. For a moment, Veronica didn’t move. The head of her plastic cock and the first inch of the shaft were between my asscheeks, but she remained entirely still. Then, slowly, she began to rub back and forth, not pushing toward my entrance, but sort of tickling me with her toy. I liked that feeling, and I sighed and then moaned. At my response, she picked up the pace, pushing more of the shaft between my cheeks, still working my cock with her magic hand.

She said, “You’re rock hard, Kelly. You don’t know what you want. Your brain might think it’s wrong, but your body’s screaming for it to happen.” To prove her point, she took one of my own hands and put it between my legs, and I took over for her, working myself fiercely, feeling my climax rise. As I played, I stopped being concerned with what it all meant and started concentrating on coming.

Veronica said, “It’s good being filled, right, Kelly…” and then her voice trailed off. I wasn’t used to a time when my girlfriend didn’t talk. She always had to tell me how good she felt or how sweet I tasted. Now, she was speechless, her faux cock pushing toward my asshole again. Then she said real quiet, “You talk, Kelly. Tell me how it feels. Please—” Her voice was hoarse.

I took a deep breath, then started. “It hurts good.” As I spoke, my body relaxed and let her in. “Does that make sense?”

“Sure it does, baby. Sure it does. Keep talking.” Carefully, she pushed forward. The muscles of my ass squeezed her, giving her a welcoming embrace. “What are you thinking, Kelly?” she asked next. “Paint a picture for me.”

I closed my eyes. I wasn’t sure at first what I was feeling. But then, in my head, I suddenly saw the act in reverse. I started describing my fantasy to Veronica. “That’s my cock you’re riding,” I told her through gritted teeth, “I’m fucking you.” I dug my body back into hers, ramming her cock all the way into me. “It feels good, doesn’t it, Veronica? Being fucked like this…”

Her body was frozen.

I was doing all the work, bouncing on her cock, keeping her inside me, connecting me to her so that it was difficult to tell where one of us ended and the other began. “Can you feel me inside you?” I asked her. “Can you feel my cock in your ass?”

It was an illuminating moment for me, seeing this different view, and I came from the image, slowing my rocking motion on her pole, shooting all over the bed. She followed quickly, shuddering as she climaxed, then staying joined to me for a long time. Even after she’d pulled out, we held each other, our bodies entwined on the sofa, neither one of us saying a word.

That was my introduction to the beauty of back-door romping, and it was the beginning of a new era in sexual variations for me. With this new era came new power. I started to look for girlfriends who would like what I liked. I would get a sense about them, a feel for the type of energy they gave off. It got so I could go into a club and spot the chicklet I would take home.

And then I saw Charlene. She wasn’t an easy mark because she didn’t know she wanted what I had to give. But once I decided on her, I turned my attention toward the pursuit. I visited the café more often than usual, on days when I didn’t even have a meeting with my producer. I sat at a table with a book, and I surreptitiously stared at the blonde-haired angel behind the counter.

It took about a week before she smiled back at me, almost a month before we were meeting behind the café on her breaks, pressing each other up against the stucco wall of our building.

I worked slowly. I didn’t want to scare her off. I have a pretty good sense for people, and I got the feeling that she’d never been taken the way I wanted to take her, that she’d never been pinned down on a bed and fucked from behind. I wanted to seduce her, to plant the idea in her head and make it her fantasy. And then make her fantasy come true.

During our midday meetings, I stroked her pussy through her ripped-up jeans. I French-kissed her, leaning my body against hers, devouring her mouth, drinking in her scent. I made her come inside of her jeans, the crotch all drippy wet with nectar. I made her look into my eyes and say, “What’re you doing to me, Kelly?” her lips curving into an embarrassed grin, “You’re driving me crazy, you know it?”

I planned on driving her crazier still.

“I want you here,” I said, reaching my hands around to cup her sweet asscheeks in her jeans. “I want to fuck you there—”

She tilted her head up to look at me, but she didn’t speak.

“You want that, too, don’t you, baby?

And she nodded. It was all the encouragement I needed.

When I first took her ass, it happened on top of a desk in my producer’s office. He gave me the key, and then disappeared, as I’d requested. As planned, Charlene met me after she got off of work. I locked the door and stripped off my jeans. Charlene stared as I slid my boxers off, then sat down on the edge of the desk. I took her hand and put it around my cock. I let her feel it and then I put my hands on the back of her neck and pushed down so that she bent close to my tool.

She parted her lips and took the head of my cock into her mouth as I ran my fingers through her hair. “That’s it,” I whispered, “that’s right, get it nice and wet for me. You know where it’s going.”

I wanted her to feel the way I had my first time. I wanted this to be an eye-opening experience. I let her suckle me, get the head of the cock and then the shaft lubricated with her spit. Then I pushed her back and ran my fingers up and down my cock, stroking it, rough-handling it. Charlene leaned back, watching me. She had her hands on the buckle of her belt, but she hesitated. I knew what she needed, and I gave it to her.

“Take your pants down, Charlie,” I said. “You don’t have to take them all the way off, just take them down to your knees.”

She’d never moved so quickly before.

“Now, bend over my desk.” I stood and watched as she bent over, gripping the side of the wood with both hands. She trembled, and then ducked her head. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. I moved behind her, rested my cock against her naked ass, and brought my arms around her.

“Feel that?” I asked softly, “Feel it pressing against you?”

She nodded.

“I’m going to put the whole thing inside you,” I said, never raising my tone. “It’s gonna slide right inside your tight, virgin asshole and it’s gonna feel so good it will seem unreal.”

She shuddered again, then looked over her shoulder at me. I was glad we were here, in a neutral zone. If we’d been at my place, I would have wanted to tie her down. But this was better, watching her hold herself as still as she could. This was much more my speed.

“It’s okay, Charlie,” I told her. “We’ll go nice and slow.”

She seemed to relax when I said that, so I took it as the opportune time to get out my lube, slick up my rod, and slide it between her dimpled asscheeks. She sucked in her breath, then let it out in a rush. I didn’t enter her, just pressed against her asshole, rocking back and forth to let her get used to the feeling. I dropped one hand in front of her and began to play with her dripping pussy, getting her nice and wet there.

When I felt the first contractions of her cunt, I drove the head of my rod into her ass. She jumped at the intrusion, then settled herself, her arms gone rigid and her knuckles white. I said, “You do it, Charlie. You work yourself back on me, taking it in at your own pace.” I didn’t stop tugging at her clit, but I let her decide how she wanted to play.

I could tell that she didn’t think she could do it. My fucking her was one thing, but her fucking herself with my cock was something else entirely. But finally, and slowly, she pushed back on me. She took a bit more of the shaft inside, adjusted to it, and pushed again. She moaned and pressed back more, getting daring, taking it in to the hilt and then rocking on it. Then she said, “Now you. I can handle it now, you do it.”

Music to my ears. I gripped into her shoulders and started what I do best, fucking her rhythmically. Not too hard or too fast, but hard and fast enough. I talked softly to her while my hips slid forward until our bodies were pressed together. I said, “That’s it, that’s the girl, you touch yourself,” and I felt the muscles in her right arm jerk to life as she began stroking her clit.

I learned from the way she moved, and I began working to the beat she needed, matching her thrust for stroke. Her fingers went in and out of her cunt and my cock went in and out of her rear door. I never let the head slip out, but the shaft did the trick, stimulating places she’d never known about, building in both speed and intensity when I could tell she was about to come.

She climaxed before she knew what was happening. Lost in a double world, her hand bringing her the normal pleasure that she was well used to, my cock fulfilling her darkest, unspoken dreams.

I held her, still inside her, and then slowly pulled out. She was flustered, couldn’t figure out what to do next. When she turned around, I put my hand under her chin and made her lift her gaze to mine. I said, “Don’t be embarrassed, Charlie. I wanted to do that from the moment I met you.”

That made her grin, and confess to me something I would never have guessed. She said, “I’ve wanted that, too, Kelly, I wanted that, too.”

Everyone has a plan. Everyone has an agenda. I was so busy with mine that I never stopped to consider the fact that she might have one of her own.