Page 26 of Ring Me

He narrowed his eyes. “Come on.”

“That drawer, there.”

Conner reached into the bedside table, digging around. I watched with rising excitement as his eyes widened, then his smirk spread until it showed his teeth. He'd found something he liked.

Looking straight at me, he held up the purple anal plug for my approval. My heart was a tempest. “Yes,” I breathed.

He came back over to kneel between my legs. The anal plug was tapered at one end, flaring out at the bottom, making it look like a fat little pear. It was as big as his pinky finger at its thinnest point... wide as his cock-head at the base.

He rolled it gently over my pussy, dragging it through my wetness until it was shiny and slick. “Do you want this?”

“Please.”

Conner chuckled, it sounded like his mouth was full of warm honey. “My soon to be wife's ass is as hungry as her little pussy.” I flushed pink, my face burning. But when he pushed the tip of the anal plug into my asshole, I groaned. “Good girl,” he crooned, “That's it. Nice and slow, take it.”

My ass spread as he sank the rubber plug deeper. The sensation of being filled was both too much and not enough. My muscles flexed, drawing the object inside, eager to get as much of the thick plug as possible.

Suddenly, Conner began to withdraw it. I whimpered an argument—he hissed out a raw, hungry noise, pushing the plug back in. “Your ass is so gorgeous, Maya. I love watching it take this inside.”

His fingers reached low, stroking my clit as he fucked my ass gently. He never let the plug fully enter, always leaving me aching for more. Finally, I began thrusting backwards, desperate for him to push the plug all the way inside. The rubbing on my clit increased. I was close to coming, my body burning hot.

He shoved the anal plug into me at the same time that he pushed his cock into my pussy. I hadn't realized he'd pulled it out, or that he'd put a condom on, I was too aroused to notice anything beyond my need to orgasm. “Aaaah,” I sobbed, thrilling with the double penetration. My ass squeezed around the base of the plug, holding it inside.

“Fucking hell,” he growled, wrapping his arms around my chest. His skin pressed on my naked back, his abdominals so solid I felt them through my spine. He thrust inside my pussy, rubbing against the plug through my thin walls. I didn't feel myself coming until the wave was making my toes cramp; it happened so abruptly, the build up becoming pure, intense pleasure that never ended.

He fucked me through the first climax right into a second. “My girl loves it dirty, doesn't she?” he purred in my ear. “Play with this ass a little...” he reached down, palming my rear end, giving it a light spank. “And you become my personal little slut.”

“Yes!”

“But just for me. No one else gets this slutty, starving pussy, right?”

“Yes, fuck, yes!” I would have said anything for him. Done anything. I'd never been so in the moment, a being of pure, wet, sordid pleasure. Sex was all I knew and all I was.

His cock thickened, warning me he was going to finish. Holding me close, he kissed my neck and trembled as he came inside of me. Again, the tiny, primal voice in my head whispered what a waste it was to pour his sperm into the condom. I was quicker to shut it down this time, focusing on his warm body, the delightful pressure of his embrace. Conner held me in my bed, our breathing loud in my ears. Eventually it merged into one roaring echo of white noise.

I'd never felt so satisfied in my life.

****

I WOKE UP WITH A START. Sitting up on my bed, I realized I was naked and alone. My bedside clock blinked the time—10 at night. I must have fallen asleep right after... I blushed, then grinned. But where had Conner gone?

Snatching a clean pair of panties from my dresser, then a loose fitting ACDC tee shirt, I dressed myself. “Conner?” I called out, wandering into my hallway.

“In here.”

I rounded the corner until I could see into my living room, which was split from the kitchen by a sliver of counter space. My apartment was a modern open floor plan.

Conner was standing shirtless by a bookshelf, one hand in his jean pocket, the other holding a glass of water. He was staring at the numerous framed pictures I'd propped on my shelves. “This is your mom, right?”

It wasn't really a question—the woman in the photographs looked like me, only older, and a little slimmer. Her hair was the same shade of fox-fur as mine, her freckles darkened from years of believing sunblock was a waste of time. She had a tiny chip in her front tooth, but that didn't stop her from grinning extra wide for the camera. “That's her, yeah.”

“And that's your grandfather?”

“Pappy. His wife, Nana, is in a few photos, but she passed away... gosh, ten years ago?” Had it already been that long? I moved next to him, pointing as I talked. “That's my mom's sister, Jemine. There's me covered in cherry pie filling. Hah, and there's one with all of Nana's farm cats. Look at Tank, he was the fattest cat I ever saw.”

“You have photos of everyone and everything. Why are there none of your dad?”

I made a face before I could stop myself. “Because I never had any pictures to hang up. I told you, Mom raised me by herself.”

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