Page 40 of Never Say Never

“So good. So fucking good. You?”

“Amazing. So different but…wow. Hard to describe.”

“Yeah.”

He fell on top of my chest with a grunt and rested his head on my shoulder. This caused my legs to squash right down, the upper thigh muscles straining, while I felt his cock soften inside me.

“Um.” I coughed.

“Sorry.” He propped himself back up. “Ready? This might feel strange. Keep relaxed.”

My muscles didn’t want to let him go. My body relayed the urgent message that he should stay there, rammed to the hilt in my bottom. It took a lot of deep breathing to stop the clenching and let him withdraw.

When he did, I felt an immediate sense of emptiness. My walls tightened, seeking their recent occupier and finding nothing. It was as if they felt abandoned. Poor little rectal walls. They would want him back. Sooner rather than later.

And they’ve had their wish. Since that night, we have embraced all things anal. We’ve done it in different positions, used different lubricants, introduced toys and experimented with double penetration.

“What are you going to do now, with no final frontier?” I asked him a few days after that first trip into the beyond. “Where can you go?”

“Well, it’s quite a big frontier,” he said, causing me to widen my eyes in indignation. “No, I don’t mean your arse is big. I just mean it takes a long time to cross. A really long time. Lots and lots of attempts. In fact, I’m not sure I’ll ever truly finish crossing it.”

He spoke the truth.

CHAPTER TEN

BEND OVER, BF —

PEGGING

I asked my wife to try anal sex. She said, “Sure. You first.”

—ROBERT SCHIMMEL

There are certain desires that don’t tend to come out on a first date. When you’re in the hazy, rose-hued world of getting-to-know-you, confessing to a partner that you want to slide on a strap-on and take his ass—or be on the receiving end (as it were) of that experience—is something that comes later. But if this is a fantasy of yours, be sure that it does finally come. Because pegging can open up entire worlds of pleasure.

I’ve buckled on the harness on multiple occasions in my work. In “Pegged,” my heroine knows exactly how to please her lover:

She licked a finger, and then slowly began to circle his asshole. He stiffened, as always, before gradually starting to relax. Her lips tightened as she sucked his cock while continuing to play with his hole. Carey sighed. When she tongued the head in rhythm with the way her finger cautiously twirled, Carey groaned. Later, he would act as if none of this had ever happened. She knew that. He would stare at her blankly with his bottle-green eyes, almost as if he’d just woken from a dream.

The narrator in my story “Plucked” is kind as she makes her lover’s fantasies come true.

I kiss the welts, and Sandy groans, then I part his rear cheeks and I start to rim his asshole. I know she fucked him here. I know that. But I’m not a cold steel domme like she was. I do things my way. I make Sandy’s cock all hard and ready by using the point of my tongue in his hole. I reach under him and manhandle his rod while I lick and suck. He’s trembling all over, and I think again of a snake that’s mesmerized the prey.

Poor Sandy, let me make it all better.

“Roger’s Fault,” by Eric Williams, features a ménage with pegging:

What a sight we made. Two guys in expensive work suits, perusing the aisles of marabou-trimmed nighties, edible panties, inflatable dolls, vibrators, paddles, lubricant. Roger acted casual about the whole thing, as if he shopped in stores like that every day. And then there was me, late as hell already, not knowing what the fuck we were doing there.

“Trust me,” Roger said again, this time hefting a huge, ribbed purple dildo and poking around in a basket for a suitable leather harness, one that would fit your slim hips without looking foolish. He wanted to find a quality-made harness with a delicate buckle. Not too large.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said.

“Elena will love it. You’ll see.”

“You’re not buying my girlfriend a dildo.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, and I thought I saw sanity again in my buddy’s green eyes. “I’m not buying it. You are.”

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