No Regrets

by Claire Kent

  What I really felt like was eating dinner on the couch and talking the day out with Josh. Maybe cuddling a little and getting some comfort.

  Those desires were very dangerous, though—far more dangerous than any sexual adventurousness I’d indulged in with him over the last two months. Canceling was far wiser.

  I’d called him up to tell him, but he didn’t pick up, so I left him a message, telling him I was heading home and asking him to call me back.

  I was already home, showered, and in my pajamas when he called me back. He’d had some sort of emergency procedure at the vet and was just getting off work. Since he was obviously as tired as I was, I was about to say we’d just call off our plans, but he said he could pick up takeout and bring it over to my place, if I wanted.

  So I found myself saying “Sure,” instead of the cancellation I’d intended.

  He’d never been over to my place before, so I was feeling odd and nervous as I waited for him to arrive. I usually kept my apartment fairly neat, so there wasn’t any cleaning up I needed to do, even for an unexpected visitor. I started to change out of my pajamas, but then decided against it. Putting my clothes back on would feel uncomfortable, and these pajamas were a soft knit pants and tank-top set in a dark blue, and so they weren’t all that different than a t-shirt and leggings would be.

  He brought in dinner from a Greek restaurant nearby, and we ate it at my kitchen counter. He told me about a dog who had come in, hit by a car—the one who had kept him late—and I told him about how my boss was blaming me for her mistakes.

  We fell into silence as we finished. I felt better. Comforted. Like I’d been heard. Like I wasn’t alone.

  “You look tired,” he said, after a minute of searching my face. “I can leave, if you want. Or we can just go to bed.”

  I really wanted to go to bed. With him.

  The smartest thing was probably to ask him to leave, but I didn’t want him to go. He was sitting next to me, looking rumpled, and masculine, and like he needed to shave.

  Making sure I pushed that thought from my mind, I gave him a teasing look. “I thought going to bed was what you came over for.”

  He smiled at me—just a little heat smoldering in his eyes. “You got it. Bed it is.”

  It would have been easier if he’d just jumped me and we stumbled into the bedroom and we went at it. But we didn’t. He helped me clean up from our meal, and then he asked if he could take a shower.

  Of course, I let him. He’d had a long day. But, instead of wild sex, it felt very cozy and intimate again as I lay in bed and waited for him.

  I tried to imagine what it would be like to live with him. To have evenings like this all the time—coming home from work, having dinner, talking, going to bed.

  And I could picture it. I could see it so clearly. I wanted it so much that my chest started to ache. From everything I didn’t really have with him.

  I suddenly knew—knew so clearly—that I should have asked him to leave. I wasn’t in the emotional state this evening to keep the proper distance from him. But it was too late. It would be incredibly rude to tell him to leave now. And I just didn’t want him to go.

  I searched my mind for some kind of sex that would reorient my thinking in the right way. I felt like missionary sex under the covers—nothing too wild or strenuous—but I wasn’t going to make that mistake and complete my emotional delusion about what Josh and I actually had.

  I was still trying to think of what I could do to get myself together when he came out of the shower, naked except for a pair of boxers.

  He smelled clean as he got under the covers with me and scooted over to spoon me from behind. With one arm around my middle, he held me snugly against him, and my body immediately reacted to his closeness.

  “I like your pajamas” he murmured, his breath warm against my ear.

  I snuggled back into his embrace, feeling better than I had all day but terrified because of it. “You lucked out. Sometimes I sleep in just an oversized t-shirt.

  One of his hands strayed up to my breasts, caressing one of my nipples through the fabric until it peaked under his touch. “Really? That doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

  “My favorite t-shirt says ‘Give me chocolate and no one gets hurt.’” I felt a tingling between my legs as I stretched against him.

  He chuckled and rubbed his cheek against my neck, making me moan at the delicious friction. He was hardening against my ass and gently rocking his pelvis against me. I added, “It’s so big on me it comes down to my knees.”

  He hummed low in his throat. “Sounds very sexy. Next time, you should wear that.”

  Reaching up behind me, I wrapped one of my arms around his neck. “I’ll think about it.”

  He raised himself up slightly and turned my head to the side so he could reach my lips. We kissed for a few minutes as he stroked my body, until both of us were warm and aroused.

  I was feeling soft and affectionate. I was feeling like we were really together.

  I was suddenly terrified of how I was feeling—how it wasn’t at all the way we were supposed to be together—and I realized I had to do something about it.

  Now. Immediately. Right away.

  And then the answer came to me at the feel of his erection rubbing against my bottom.

  “Josh?”

  “Hmm.” He was nuzzling my hair and tweaking one of my hard nipples between his fingers.

  “There’s something I’ve always wondered about.” My heart started to hammer as I realized what I was about to suggest.

  Josh stiffened, and his hand grew still on the curve of my breast. When I didn’t continue, he prompted, “Yes?”

  He felt tense, and I wondered if he thought I was going to ask him to share something personal. His response actually helped. Reminded me that I’d only ever get to a certain level of closeness with him.

  Clearing my throat, I managed to get the rest of the words out. “Have you ever tried the…the back door…thing?”

  He was utterly still for a few seconds. Then his hand began to move again almost idly over my breast. “Why do you ask?”

  “Have you?”

  “Yes. I’ve had anal sex before.”

  I swallowed hard and tried not to imagine him doing that with some other woman. “With your college girlfriend?”

  “Yes.”

  “Anyone else?”

  “Yes.” Josh leaned down so that his mouth was right at my ear. “Leslie? Why do you want to know?”

  “Because I’ve never done it. And I wanted to try.”

  I actually wasn’t sure I wanted to try, but I had always wondered about it. In none of my previous relationships had it even felt like a possibility, so I’d assumed I’d go through life without ever trying it.

  Josh was silent for a long time. He was still erect against me, but the rest of his body felt tense in a different way. Finally, he asked, “Is that really what you want?”

  For no good reason, I was immediately defensive. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “I was just asking. Do you really want to do that?”

  I turned around in his arms and met his eyes evenly. Told him the truth. “I want this.”

  “Tell me why.”

  I was a little annoyed that he was pressing me on this, since it seemed outside of the bounds of our relationship. But there was no reason not to answer. “Because I want to do something I didn’t think I could ever do. No regrets, remember?” It took all the nerve I had, but I didn’t look away from his scrutinizing gaze. “I want to do it with you.”

  “All right,” he murmured. Then he pulled me into another kiss. After he’d stroked my lips and mouth with his tongue, he eased away just far enough to ask, “Have you done any sort of anal play before?”

  I swallowed hard, my cheeks warming a little. But it was stupid to be embarrassed since I was the one who had suggested this. “No. Not really.”

  Josh leaned farther back, something reluctant appearing in hi
s eyes. “Leslie, it’s not always easy to manage. And if you haven’t done any sort of—”

  Afraid he was going to turn me down now, after giving me hope that we could do this, I interrupted, “I know it will take some doing. But I want to at least try. Please?”

  “All right. But, if you don’t like it, you have to tell me.”

  “Right.”

  “Promise?”

  I felt a twinge of a new kind of anxiety—not from what we were about to do but from how he’d evidently sensed my conflicted feelings. Hopefully, he hadn’t sensed my mushiness before. If he thought I was getting too close, hoping for too much, then he would end this thing between us. No question.

  “I promise.”

  “Okay.” Josh pulled himself up into a sitting position and tightened his lips as he thought. “Do you have vibrators? Those would probably help.”

  My stomach churned as I leaned over and opened the nightstand drawer—suddenly hit with the knowledge of what we were about to do. But I kept my expression calm and my voice natural as I replied, “Who doesn’t have vibrators?” I even managed an ironic quirk of my mouth. “For emergency purposes only—of course.”

  Josh let out a huff of amusement, but he was obviously focused on preparations. “What do you have?”

  Rather sheepishly, I showed him my small collection of vibrators. I didn’t have a large stock of sex toys—just three vibrators of good quality and varying size. Josh put aside the larger dual-action vibrator in favor of the smooth, slim, slightly curved one—the first one I’d bought for myself—and a mini vibe that generated intense vibrations that I used when I wanted some quick clitoral stimulation.

  I tried to think of a joke or something—anything to break the mounting tension. Before I could think of one, Josh had gotten off the bed and strode to the bathroom.

  He returned with a towel.

  I just stared at him.

  “Just in case,” he explained, nudging me over so he could spread the towel out on the bed. “Otherwise you might have to change the sheets after—“

  “Oh.” I blushed even deeper. “Right.”

  “Do you have enough lube?” Josh didn’t look uptight or anxious—the way I myself felt—but he was definitely not taking this lightly. His expression was focused and business-like, and for some reason it both comforted and embarrassed me.

  I grabbed the small tube from the nightstand drawer. Before I’d met Josh, I’d used the lube sometimes with a vibrator. “It’s almost full.”

  Josh studied it intently. “I guess that should be enough.”

  The possibility of that entire container of lubricant not being enough for one sexual encounter made my eyes widen dramatically.

  Noticing my response, he said, “I don’t care if you think I’m overdoing the precautions. I’m not taking any chances of you getting hurt.”

  Despite my jittery nerves, this sign of the sweetness underlying his sexy demeanor made me want to melt. “Right.”

  All the preparations taken care of, Josh crawled in bed beside me again. “Do you feel…clean enough?” he asked, for the first time sounding a little hesitant.

  I nodded and felt my cheeks burning. “I think so. But I’m not sure…I mean, I know some women do enemas or whatever before—“

  “No.” Josh’s interruption was almost sharp. “It might make it more uncomfortable for you. Any man who’s not willing to accept the natural consequences of this kind of intercourse shouldn’t be going in there to begin with.”

  He looked so militant with a kind of righteous indignation that I felt a sudden wave of amusement. I choked on a snort of stifled laughter.

  Josh’s concentration broke, and his mouth softened into a responding smile. “Are you sure you want to do this, Leslie?”

  Feeling a little more relaxed, I nodded. “I do. But can we turn off the light?”

  “Of course.” He switched off the bedside lamp, leaving the room in mostly darkness. I could still see the general shape of him beside me but couldn’t see any details.

  Getting on my hands and knees and raising my bottom in the air, I glanced at him over my shoulder. “Should we do it this way?”

  “Uh-uh.” He took me by the hips and readjusted me until I was lying on my side. Then he spooned me from behind. “You don’t think I’m going to just stick my dick in your ass and start thrusting, do you?”

  I blushed again, realizing that was exactly what I’d thought. “I guess maybe you’ll work up to it some.”

  “Yeah.”

  He began to caress me again, his hands stroking over my belly and breasts and his mouth gently nuzzling the side of my neck. Eventually, he pushed up my tank so he could stroke my bare skin, and I began to relax as my body warmed to his touch.

  This was Josh. And he’d always made me feel good.

  Why should it be any different in this?

  It didn’t take long before my pussy was wet, and I was wriggling back into the erection I could feel against my bottom. He’d slid off my pajama pants so there was no barrier when his hand slipped between my legs to feel my warm flesh.

  “You can get going any time now.” My voice was thready, and I squirmed against the hard feel of his body behind me.

  He gave a wordless grunt I took for affirmation, since I could feel him adjusting slightly behind me.

  He must have found one of the vibrators because I heard him switch it on. It was the small, curved one. He pulled one of my thighs up to provide access to my pussy. Then he slid the vibrator along my swollen arousal, then inside me for a couple of thrusts.

  I tightened in response as I felt my channel clinging to the vibrating penetration.

  Josh eased it out then and moved it forward to my clit.

  I cried out in relief as I felt the sensations course through me, and my hips gave a few instinctive pumps as I gasped wetly against the pillow.

  Then I felt one of Josh’s fingers in my slick channel. He dipped it in, getting it wet with my moisture. He traced a line out and backward.

  Then, in spite of the whirl of intense sensations from the vibrator on my clit, I felt something else. Felt his finger pushing against another, much tighter entrance.

  My eyes popped open as the pressure increased. “Eh!” I huffed out, my spine stiffening as I tried to process the dual sensations.

  “I’m going to try it this way first,” Josh murmured, coordinating the distinct motion of both hands with admirable skill, “See if you can relax.”

  I did as he said and breathed as deeply as I could. The vibrations on my clit were overwhelming, and they sufficiently distracted my reflexes so that Josh’s finger made it past the initial muscle of that other passage. After that, his finger, slick with my moisture, slid in fairly smoothly.

  Now that he was in, he eased up on my clit, and I was able to feel the penetration of his finger far more intensely.

  Whimpering, I looked back over my shoulder at Josh. He had propped himself up some so he could use both hands between my legs, but even in the dark I could see that his eyes never left my face.

  “Leslie? How is it?” He pumped his finger inside me slightly, causing me to writhe in response.

  It felt so weird, so alien. And I had to fight against the urge to push the penetration out.

  I was very turned on, however, and the new layer of sensation only increased my pleasure. I panted loudly with both nerves and physical response but realized I didn’t want it to end.

  So, when Josh pressed against my clit with the vibrator again, I made of mewling sound and gasped, “It’s…it’s good.”

  I could feel an orgasm developing quickly, and the additional penetration wasn’t getting in the way. But it was changing the experience, and I couldn’t stop focusing on the way his finger felt as it moved inside me.

  There. Where it really shouldn’t be.

  I was pressing my hips back against his hand unconsciously—not wildly but with tight little pushes. And it felt, for all the world, like my eyes wer
e going to roll back in my head.

  I let out a few sobbing sounds, and I tried to concentrate on the vibrations on my clit.

  “That’s right,” Josh breathed, watching as I shook and writhed in front of him. “Do you think you can come?”

  “Eh heh,” I rasped, feeling my whole body—every part of me—tense up in preparation. “Gonna come.”

  “That’s right, Leslie. Come for me like this.” Then Josh pushed against my clit with the vibrator even harder.

  I came with a loud sob, feeling spasms of pleasure overtake me. My body convulsed clumsily on my side, and my back passage clamped down around Josh’s finger, squeezing it more tightly than I ever did with my pussy.

  The orgasm lasted a long time, with an intensity I normally didn’t feel when I came.

  My muscles had pushed out Josh’s finger, and he lowered the vibrator, turning it off. He retrieved his hand from between my legs as my knees drew up instinctively from the release of tension.

  “How was that?” His voice was hoarse, almost gruff, and I wished I could see his face more clearly.

  “It was good. Kind of weird. But good.”

  “So you want to keep going?” He’d reached over to grab a tissue and wipe off the finger that had been inside me.

  My heart was pounding wildly, but it was from excitement as much as apprehension. “Yeah. I want to keep going.”

  He stroked my messy hair. With his clean hand—I was paying attention. “Okay. Just make sure you tell me if it stops being good.” He started to stroke my body over my tank top with that same hand.

  Taking slow, deep breaths to relax myself, I let him tease my body into deeper arousal. It didn’t take long, since I was already primed from my earlier orgasm. Then I let him ease my shoulders forward until I was bent slightly at the waist, providing him better access to my bare bottom.

  I was looking back at him, so I saw him pick up the vibrator we’d been using before. “Ease this leg up a little,” he instructed, tapping on my upper thigh. “So I can get to your clit.”

  Relieved that he wasn’t yet going anywhere unfamiliar, I parted my legs so he could hold the vibrator to my clit again. It wasn’t long until I was whimpering and pumping my pelvis in my growing need for release. When I could feel the pleasure starting to take shape into the beginnings of an orgasm, Josh slid the head of the vibrator backward, away from my clit.