Page 7 of Archer's Awakening

And eyed the dildo.

I’d selected slender and long. Since almost twenty years had passed since I’d last done this, I figured starting small might be a good idea.

Now, in the diffuse light of the shower, the damn thing didn’t look all thatsmall.

Even the sparkly purple color didn’t make it look less menacing.

You thought this was a good idea?

As a way to get back in the saddle? Yeah, it’d seemed like a great idea.

Now?

Not so much.

Start small.

I eyed my index finger. Yeah, that’d be okay. So I put lube on my finger. First, I circled my hole with it. Then I added more lube—because one could never have too much lube.

Well, you could and the dildo might slip out, but that’s not likely the issue here…

I braced myself against the shower wall, with water continuing to race down me in rivulets, and slid my finger in.

Okay…not bad at all. Weird, sure, but you’ve done this before…

I was tempted to tell my inner voice to pipe down, but it never listened, so I kept going. Generally, I enjoyed topping. Sometimes, though, I wanted the feel of a cock inside me. So, in the spirit of moving forward, I added a second finger.

Bit of a burn. Nothing overwhelming. Totally something you can handle.

Wow, encouragement. Ah, he was just likely wanting to get lucky.

Progress. My cock was plumping nicely and my balls were definitely getting interested.

I sank my fingers in deeper.

If I can just…nope, wrong angle. No way to reach my prostate without some contorting.

That dildo will hit your prostate nicely. Think of how much fun that would be—

I might not have been convinced. However, my inner voice was jumping up and down with joy. Possibly also misplaced optimism. Probably simple horniness. Still, in the spirit of trying new things, I scissored my fingers. Because nothing wrong withopening myself up. I might not have planned to bottom tonight, but that eventuality wasn’t off the table entirely. My versatility had always made me an easy lay.

Back more than fifteen years ago. You’re over the hill—

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Thirty-nine was not fuckingover the hill. Plenty of guys were hitting their prime at my age.

Okay, maybe not my sexual prime—because refractory periods were a thing today in a way they hadn’t been when I’d been eighteen—but still… I was successful. I was prosperous.

You’re divorced, with no kids and no legacy for the future.

My cock started to shrivel.

I withdrew my fingers and snagged the bottle of lube. I dropped a huge dollop onto my fingers. Then I lubed the dildo. Before I could talk myself out of doing the questionable, I positioned myself.

As much as I just wanted to ram myself onto the damn thing, I didn’t fancy a visit to the ER and having to describe how I’d gotten myself into the situation. Instead, I eased the head slowly in. Centimeter by centimeter until I felt a little pop.

Okay, the worst of it’s over.

That knowledge didn’t relieve the burn. The hurt that was at once good and not so much.

---