Page 12 of Loosened Up for My Bud

“Get back on the bed,” he says, and there’s that note of authority again. “Like you were before. Hands on the mattress. Ass up.”

I let out a small, sheepish laugh as I bend over the side of the bed in front of him. My hands press into the comforter, which is already a rumpled mess from where I was gripping it earlier. I’m presenting my asshole to him again, like a goddamn offering, and somehow it doesn’t feel nearly as wrong as it should.

Two big feet plant themselves behind me. Then a warm, heavy hand settles on the small of my back, fingers spreading across the curve of my ass. A cold trickle of lube slides between my cheeks, and I gasp. A moment later, his thumb drags it over the rim, warming it with the friction.

“This is so fucking nuts, man,” he says, circling my hole. “We’re about to?—”

“Please, Stone,” I cut in. “Don’t make me think too much about it.”

“Right. Sure.”

Another drizzle of lube. Another slow circle. His thumb pushes in, and my body gives way with an embarrassing lack of resistance.

“Still nice and open for me. Good. Let’s see if you can take this now.”

I feel him nudge his cock up against me, right in the cleft. He spreads my ass cheeks apart, and he slots his cock between them, dragging the slick, leaking head back and forth.

My heart is in my throat. This is really happening. We crossed the line a while ago, but we just keep going, getting further and further away from anything that resembles sanity.

Stone pulls his dick back a little, and I feel him prodding the sensitive skin around my hole, hunting for the opening. He finds it, and the blunt, spongy tip presses right against me.

I suck in a breath, bracing for impact. For a moment, I think about all the girls he’s fucked and what they must have felt when he pushed into them for the first time. How they must have gasped, spreading their legs wider to take him. And now I’m about to get the same treatment. Bent over my own bed.

“Just the tip,” he murmurs, like he’s reminding himself of the bargain.

He pushes. Slowly. So slowly. The pressure builds and builds until my body finally yields, the same way it did for the plug. There’s a sharp sting as the crown of his cock breaches me. I cry out, a short, broken sound I don’t recognize as my own.

Then he’s in. Just the head.

He stops, holding himself there. I feel like a champagne bottle that’s just been popped. A tight seal has been broken, and everything is about to come rushing out. All I can focus on is the flared ridge of his crown, lodged just inside my rim. A hot, pulsing presence that feels both foreign and familiar. My hole is clenching, trying to get used to the impossible width.

“Fuck,” Stone breathes out, a long, shaky sigh. “Fuck, that’s… you’re so tight. Even after the plug.” His hands are gripping my hips hard enough to leave bruises.

The emptiness is gone. The ache is gone. In their place is this feeling of being stretched to the absolute limit, the fullness that I was craving. And it’s so much more intense than the plug. This is a living thing inside me. I can feel the frantic thrum of his heartbeat through the head of his cock, a steady pulse against my inner walls.

I’m trembling. Can’t stop. Uncontrollable shivers running up and down my spine. My own dick is leaking all over the side of my bed, a steady drip onto the comforter.

Stone starts moving. Just little thrusts. Barely anything. But the drag of his crown against my rim, the sensation of him slowly inching in and out, is maddening.

“That’s the tip, Jay.” His voice is strained. “This is what you wanted, right? Just the tip.”

It’s not enough. It’s nowhere near enough. It’s like being offered a single drop of water when you’re dying of thirst. Those shallow little movements are driving me insane.

“Stone—”

“Yeah?”

“I—” I grip the comforter tighter. My knuckles are white. “Fuck.”

“What’s wrong? Thought you said just the tip.”

“I know what I said.”

“So this is good then?” He pulls back, then pushes in that same inch again. “This is enough for you?”

“No.”

“No?”