He smiles. “Yes. It’s exactly what you think it is. And I can’t wait to see it in you.” He pauses. “You like it in your ass?”
“I don’t know,” I say, suddenly shy.
“You haven’t tried?”
“No,” I look down.
“An ass virgin. I like it,” he smiles, approval apparent as his eyes darken—subtle, but there.
My chest swells, embarrassment blooming into some kind of pride. Pleasing him by having this part of me untouched—until now.
My heart races with anticipation. I’ve always wanted to try one of these. Always too shy. Never knowing how to broach it.
Not that I’m a prude. It’s just… one of those taboo things that isn’t easy to casually drop into conversations. At least, with partners who aren’t openminded like Soren.
I could almost predict the judgment on their faces. Or the fear that they would use this against me later. Tell other people, or turn around and call me derogatory names for being open to trying it when they were feeling angry at the world. A lack of safety in the most intimate parts of our relationship.
So I put on an act there, too—just like everywhere else.
Until Soren.
If they were vanilla, I didn’t ask for more. If they wanted to explore, I went along. To makethemhappy.
If they asked if I wanted to do something—to try something new or different—it felt like a test. That if I actually suggested something, I’d be calling out a deficiency on their part. An area that was lacking. So instead, I’d just smile shyly and say, “No, this is great.” Accepting whatever I got.
It’s not that every experience I’ve had of sex before this has been bad. There have been good times. I’ve just never been able to truly express myself.
To feel safe and like anyone actually gave a shit about whatIwanted, whatIneeded. What makes me feel good beyond an orgasm. At least I learned to stop faking those a long time ago. Because that doesn’t help anyone at all.
With Soren, though, it’s different. I intuitively know that I could tell him the freakiest stuff and he’d be up for it. Because I know, unequivocally, that if something brought me joy—if I wanted to do something just for the sheer enjoyment of it all—he’d be all in.
Especially if it brought me pleasure.
“Thank you!”
He smiles back, pleased at my reaction. “I knew you’d like it.” Certainty, as usual.
And hedoesknow me. He doesn’t guess.
“Just let me know when you want to try it,” he says, his gaze dropping to it, then back to me.
I look up at him through my lashes, heat blooming deep in my core. “How about now?”
He beams, unable to hide his reaction. His eyes darken with lust, and I can barely distinguish the pupils from the irises.
He grabs a bottle of lube that was sitting in the box, discreetly underneath the plug, and smears some over the plug itself and then my back entrance. I shiver at the cool drag of it as it makes contact with my bare skin, a little slipping deeper than expected.
I tilt back, moaning as he inserts the plug, pushing past my tight resistance.
The sensation is new, different. The same sense of being filled up and stretched as when he enters my pussy. Tighter.
Then his tongue. I whimper as he uses it to nudge it in further. He runs his tongue around the rim of the plug, and it turns, changing angle, teasing different parts of my inner walls.
“Fuck. This feels… so fucking good.”
“Mmmhmm, you like it being stretched?” His voice vibrates against my cheeks, causing more pleasant tingles against my skin.
“Ye—yess,” I manage.