Loading...Crap. Crap. Crap. That was all she could think of saying inside her head. Crap. How had she ended up in this situation? She’d made a bet with him over something stupid. It was so long ago, she couldn’t even remember what it was about, but now he was cashing in his chips. While she knew it wouldn’t be anything outrageous, like making her hitchhike nude or going around asking men what their favorite flavor lube is, she knew it wouldn’t be pleasant for her.
They’d known each other too long for him to be cruel to her, but the length and depth of their relationship also caused them to take liberties with each other that they wouldn’t take with others. That’s what happens when you stay good friends with someone who you’ve had a sexual relationship with. Crap.
He refused to tell her what it was about; he told her she’d remember the bet once they got started on her *ahem* payment. The only thing he would tell her is that she’d better take extra-extra special care with her cleansing ‘rituals’ he knew she had. She’d always start with letting the shower run until the water was at a constant temperature. She hated standing under the shower while the water tempered, getting alternating blasts of hot and cold. While the shower readied, she got her robe, slippers, lotions and moisturizers ready and set aside on the edge of the spa tub. She already had all her soaps and cleansers in the shower, lined up in the order of use. When that was all ready, she’d finally step under the hot spray.
First the hair, washed and conditioned, then the teeth brushed twice and a full 30-second gargle, then the face, gently scrubbed and exfoliated. She worked her way down her body with an exfoliating pouf lathered with honey-almond gel. The arms, then the torso, around to her ass, then the legs and feet, then she’d move back up and use some of the lather squeezed from the pouf on her breasts. As usual, when she touched her nipples, they hardened slightly. Her breasts were nice; 36C, heavy underneath, nicely rounded, with jutting nipples and dusky areolas. She squeezed more of the lather off and lathered her Rubenesque ass. Men loved her ass. She was short, with a tiny waist, those lovely tits, and oh, that ass. They’d love it more if they knew that just a few inches away was the tightest of tight pussies, perfectly Brazilian waxed, smooth as can be. She gathered a bit more bubble and stroked herself, reveling in the feel of unbelievably satiny skin. Nothing was better than waxed sex, oral, or otherwise.
Sometimes just the thought of what lay behind the eyes of the men she talked to made her antsy. Many times, she could see them trying to steal a glance down her blouse when she leaned forward, and she felt eyes following her when she walked away. It helped, she supposed, that she was naturally gregarious and usually walked around with a smile. She was not one to sleep around, though, and chose her partners very carefully. Having had a friend get date-raped, although thankfully, not violently, was enough to make her think twice about getting too familiar with unknown men. Granted, sometimes this left her without, but really, it made sex that much better when she got it. She sure did want some lately considering how long it had been.
She broke her reverie and got out of the shower, making sure to dry off completely so that she could better moisturize. She slathered on the matching honey-almond lotion, covering her still warm body, and rubbing it in until she smelled as sweet as she felt. She put on her robe and slippers and went to her vanity to start her hair and makeup.
The phone rang. She knew it was him because she had just had a landline installed recently and he was one of the only people with the number. She knew it was him because she had already spoken to everyone else that day on her cell phone. She knew it was him because her heart started thumping, prickles of dismay at not knowing what he had in store climbing up her body. She wondered briefly if he intended anything sexual, decided that it had been so long that he probably didn’t, and dismissed the thought.
He told her that she’d better be ready to have a good time. To dress nice, that he had a nice surprise for her. She put on her favorite black panties and bra, and the cute black dress she had bought a few weeks ago. Some heels, a matching purse, dangly, sparkly earrings and a velvet choker with a pretty pendant completed her outfit. She took extra care with her hair and makeup and finally decided that she looked good enough to eat.
So he took her to dinner. Nice restaurant. She couldn’t be so lucky as to have her debt repaid with just being good company. A few drinks at the bar, and in the car, he finally told her what her task would be: she had to choose between two pretty boxes. She thought the blue box looked better with her outfit, so she chose that one, but he wouldn’t let her open it. That was for back at the house.
Back home, he handed her the box. Nestled in pretty, iridescent tissue paper, there they were: anal beads. Crap. Now she remembered. When she was with her last boyfriend, he liked anal. She didn’t, but it was probably because he didn’t care enough to make sure she did. Sure, he lubed her, made sure he never actually hurt her, but anal sex was more than that. It was a very personal, trusting thing to do. The ex turned out to be a dick, and that’s where the bet came in. When she first started having sex with the ex, she complained about that but other than that, he was an all-around nice guy. When he told her that the ex was going to use her and break her heart, she insisted otherwise. When she told him about the ex liking anal but being so self-absorbed about it, he came up with the perfect idea. He bet her that once the ex was out of her life (oh, no, no, we’ll be together forever), he could make her love having a hard cock in her ass. Sure, she agreed, because she believed that she and the ex would get married and ride off into the sunset, happy forever. She never thought about it again, and after two years of a deteriorating relationship with the ex, she finally had enough. Another year and a half of getting her own life back together, separate from another, and she was back on track, living her life, and reconnecting with friends.
So here they were, two old, good, friends with a set of analbeads and a bottle of lube he just produced from a pocket between them. Oh, well, fuck it. He was good in bed, very considerate and passionate, and it had been too long since she’d been well-fucked.
She unzipped the dress and let it fall around her ankles, stepped out it and then her heels. She padded over to the sofa and sat down in her bra and panties, legs slightly open, the scent of honey-almond rising up from her warm pussy. He took off his shirt, got down on his knees in front of her and blew hot kisses through her panties, finally moving them over with his fingers and finding her hard clit with his tongue. She slid down the sofa a bit, opening her legs wider, and he removed her panties, which were already moist with her juices. She took of her bra while he started licking her inner thighs. She sighed contentedly, closed her eyes, and started really enjoying the thought of him eating her pussy. Always his favorite thing, and practice does make perfect.
He put his hands under her to lift her off the sofa, inadvertently spreading her wider. That was his opportunity: he touched his tongue to her ass, taking a moment to realize it was as smooth as the rest of her, then dove in. He laved his tongue up and down her asscrack, loving the smell and taste of her. When he decided that he couldn’t get enough of her like that, he got her up on her knees on the sofa, which allowed her to drape her arms over the back and support herself. He reached up and pinched her nipples, rolling them around between his thumbs and forefingers, pulling them slightly. He was rewarded with a moan, and her ass undulating in his face. Still pinching her nipples, he buried himself in her ass, working his tongue into her puckered paradise. When she moaned louder, he let go of her nipples and put two fingers in her sopping wet pussy. She jumped, inside and out, and he actually felt her clit get harder. He told her, between laps, that he was going to lick her ass, tongue-fucking her hole until her pussy spilled all over his fingers, and then he was going to lube her up and slide his cock in and out of her tight ass until she begged for more.
She’d never had anyone lick her ass like this before. The ex, acting as though he was doing her a favor, would lick her pussy just until she was wet, and on the rare occasion he was feeling magnanimous, would make a pass or two over her ass. Not enough to even make it interesting, but she didn’t realize then what she was missing out on. This was incredible. His tongue, alternately firm and pointy or soft and flat, licking her ass gave her sensations she’d never felt before. She honestly believed she could come just from his tongue in her ass. Its slightly rough texture was something she’d never noticed before. He finger-fucked her pussy and tongue-fucked her ass. Then, while doing all that, he touched her clit. She exploded, panting and moaning, rubbing her ass and pussy against him uncontrollably. Not letting her go, he continued to lick and finger her until she sagged against the back of the sofa, legs quivering.
He told her that he was going to make her beg for his dick in her ass. He told her that he was going to make her want him to ream her asshole, and that he would have her begging for it. He grabbed the bottle of lube and put some on his fingers, then dribbled a bit on her ass. He stood behind her, and gently eased a finger into her ass. She moaned and pushed back against him, but he wasn’t done. He undid his pants with the other hand and let them drop to the floor, along with his underwear and stepped out of them. Kicking them to the side, he continued to finger-fuck her ass. He reached for the analbeads and worked some of the lube onto them. When he popped his finger out of her ass, she clicked her tongue and wiggled her ass at him. He moved behind her and slowly eased his cock into her pussy. When he was in completely, he started inserting the beads, one at a time, matching his slow strokes. Each time he got a bead in, her asshole puckered and tightened around it, making his hard cock jump. Each time, she wailed and pushed back against him harder and her pussy twitched.
He began slowly fucking her, reaching down occasionally to tweak her nipples. He alternately pulled the ring on the beads, but not enough to make them come out, just enough to make the last one rub against the inside of her asshole, twisting them slightly.
Between the beads in her ass and his cock in her cunt, she began a long, shuddering orgasm. When he felt it coming on, he pulled the beads a bit harder and fucked her a bit faster. No, he wasn’t going to pound her pussy; he was saving that treat for her ass. He knew when she reached the beginning of her climax and he began to pull the beads out, one by one. She gave a long, mournful cry and bucked back against him, begging him to fuck her harder. He told her, between strokes and beads, that he would only fuck her harder in her ass. As soon as he got the last bead out, which was really only a few seconds, she couldn’t take it anymore.
“Fuck my ass, fuck my ass, fuck it! Oh, please, please, fuck my ass.”
He pulled his soaked dick out of her pussy and buried it in her ass in one thrust. Her ass, still pulsing from her orgasm, was unbelievably tight. It was like a velvet vice around his hardness. She was still lubed up, and as he began pumping in her tight hole, she started making little noises in the back of her throat. Grunts and groans in between begging him to keep pounding her ass. Wave after wave of pleasure rippled through her body, making her understand now why she had always felt something missing from her sex life. He drilled into her ass, for what felt like forever, and when he felt her loosen up a bit, he reached down and touched her clit. Had she not been impaled on him, she would have hit the ceiling. She began begging again for him to fuck her ass. Her moans bordered on shrieks, and he was glad she wasn’t in an apartment anymore, with neighbors to hear her ecstasy.
He rammed into her, pummeling her now tightened asshole. He watched his dick sliding in and out of her, pulling her with him slightly on the outstroke. He never dreamed when they dated that he would one day look down and see himself fucking her snug hole, filling her narrow rear passage with his hardness. He reamed her lubed ass mercilessly while she moaned and shuddered. He listened to his balls slapping against her ass and thought that maybe next time, he’d make her beg for his dick in her asshole while he spanked her. When she began to come again, he told her he was going to fill her ass with his hot cum. Just the thought of him shooting his load into her waiting ass was too much for her. She was at the peak of her orgasm when she felt his cock contract and then fill her, spasm after hot spasm.
She sagged against the sofa for the second time that night, and he pulled out and dropped to the floor. He wanted to fuck her some more, but didn’t want to taste himself, so he let her rest and then go clean up. When she came out in her robe, hair disheveled he told her he was going to fuck her ass again later and watched her eyebrows arch ever so slightly and her lips pucker unconsciously. Later, after a repeat performance, and realizing that the bet she had feared actually precipitated the best sex she had ever had, she asked him what was in the green box that she never got to open.
“Just another set of beads,” he said.