Never Say Never

by Alison Tyler

  •Anal and spanking go well together. Start with a good spanking and follow with a raucous anal encounter.

  FICTION: ANAL SEX

  THE FINAL FRONTIER

  JUSTINE ELYOT

  I knew Luke was an arse man before we even got together. He had that poster of the tennis player lifting her skirt to show her bum on the wall of his room in college. It was retro even then, and we used to tease him about it, or accuse him of sexual objectification of women if we weren’t in a good mood.

  “What can I say?” He’d shrug. “I’m an arse man through and through.”

  We lost touch for a while, scattering to the corners of the globe after graduation, but one summer at a mutual friend’s barbecue, there he was, hogging the sausages. At university we’d both had other partners, but it hadn’t stopped a kind of sly, breathless flirtation going on whenever we were in the same room.

  Now that we were both single, it seemed inevitable from that first sausage joke over the hot coals that we would end up together. And so we did, smooching at the end of the garden when everyone else had retired indoors. As he kissed me, his hand reached down to squeeze my bottom in its thin cotton covering.

  “I’ve wanted to touch your bum since the day I met you,” he whispered.

  Not the most romantic start to a relationship, but it turned me on anyway.

  I liked to dress it up for him—tight jeans for the pub, shiny spandex hot pants for the nightclubs. He couldn’t keep his hands off it, following wherever it led. He particularly liked it when I wore a tiny latex miniskirt I’d bought in the goth shop in town, though I tended to save that one for the bedroom. I’d bend over, stretch that rubber tight as tight, listening behind me for the moans of agonized awe that preceded his pounce.

  As time went on, I let him spank me, growing to enjoy the sound of his hand on my heating skin and the way it lit up my sex and made my juices flow. I’d never imagined I’d enjoy that kind of thing, but over his knee became one of my favorite places to be.

  Another one was on my hands and knees on the bed or the floor or wherever, my spine bent, the better to thrust out my bottom, while he pounded into me, his hands scooping those generous curves.

  I guess I knew the day was coming, but I avoided thinking about it. Surely it was enough that he got to see and feel and touch and spank my bottom to his heart’s content. Surely this would satisfy him and he wouldn’t want to…my sphincter would clench before I got as far as explicating the thought.

  So it was left to him to moot the subject.

  Once again I was on my knees, face in the duvet, arse in the air, naked except for stockings and suspenders, pushing back on his cock, eager to get it all inside me.

  “Mm, do you want it, Lis?”

  “Yeah, please.”

  He ground his pelvis, tried to push his cock farther in, but it simply wasn’t possible. He placed his thumbs on my inner buttcheeks and pulled them apart, something he’d done many times during sex, so I wasn’t unduly alarmed.

  But then he placed one of those thumbs on my anus and I jolted my hips so wildly we nearly toppled over sideways.

  “Shhh, calm.” He patted my hip but kept his thumb in situ. “What’s the matter?”

  “You’re touching…it feels weird.”

  “Bad weird?”

  “No, but…”

  “Have you never wanted to try anal sex?”

  “Not tonight.”

  “No, not tonight. I don’t mean tonight. I mean, ever.”

  “I don’t know. It’d hurt. You’d never fit. And it’s just…a bit gross.”

  “It’s not gross. It’s dirty, but that’s good. You can make sure you’re clean beforehand, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “I don’t know what I’m worried about. I’m just worried.”

  “It doesn’t turn you on?”

  I knew he was trying hard to keep his tone neutral, not disappointed, not coercive. I loved him for that. I loved him anyway.

  So I considered his question seriously.

  “Look, can we discuss this face-to-face? After you’ve fucked me with that cock that’s distracting me so very much right now?”

  He laughed.

  We fucked. Throughout the fuck, I imagined his cock was farther behind, in that secret, hidden, transgressive place. I imagined how it would look, that fat, thick thing gliding in and out of the tiny opening. I imagined how hot and nasty and helpless and dominated it would make me feel. When I came, I came harder than usual.

  As we lay together afterward, I asked him why he liked the idea.

  “I’ve always liked it,” he said. “It’s my number one fantasy. I suppose because it’s so perverted and forbidden. Arse—the final frontier.”

  He said it in a cheesy movie-trailer voice, and I giggled.

  “If I have you there,” he continued, “then I’ve really had you. For me, it’s the ultimate act, it goes further than ordinary sex. It’s more intimate, you need more trust between partners.”

  “But does it feel good?” I voiced the only real doubt that was left in my mind.

  “For me it does. And the girls I’ve done it with—well, they said it did too.”

  “Right. You’ve done it before.”

  “Only with serious girlfriends.”

  “So with three people?”

  “Yep.”

  I was almost sure I wanted to do it, but this thing about the three former girlfriends sparked a moment of insecurity that made me want to refuse, just to see if he would still stay with me.

  “What if I said never in a month of Sundays? Would you go and find somebody who would?”

  “God, Lis, no! I wouldn’t force you into anything, and I wouldn’t leave you just because you didn’t want anal sex! It’s not the be-all and end-all of my life. I just think you’d like it…and you should try things out before deciding how you feel about them.”

  “Shall I drink poison to see if I like it or not?”

  But I was only teasing. He’d reassured me.

  We set a date for a week Friday. There would be fine dining, a little inhibition-dissolving wine, then I would be buggered.

  I surfed sex ed websites to find out how to make absolutely and positively and definitively sure I would be prepared for the occasion. I didn’t fancy the idea of an enema but the anecdotal evidence from the web hive mind suggested that a good shower beforehand would very likely suffice. As long as I didn’t go on a hot chili bender in the previous twenty-four hours, my pathway would be clear.

  “What flavor lube?” Luke asked me, looking up from an online adult store.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You can have water-based, oil and silicone-based or desensitizing.”

  “Desensitizing? To stop you feeling it? What’s the point of that?”

  He looked back at the screen.

  “Oh, scrub that. It’s to lessen any pain, but I’m not going to hurt you anyway. If it hurts too much, we’ll stop.”

  “Right. What’s the diff between the other types then?”

  “Okay, it says the silicone ones are thinner and more slippery, better suited to experienced couples.”

  “What about half-experienced, half-not?”

  “I guess we should play it safe the first time. Water-based it is.”

  The preparation wasn’t all academic either. During the course of the week, he began to introduce his finger to my quivering little pucker, just to get me used to the feeling of being breached there. It felt huge at first, even after extensive lubrication, but after a few attempts I began to get the hang of relaxing my muscles and pushing out instead of clamping up, until he was able to fit two fingers inside and scissor them wide, assessing my level of stretch and flexibility. When he did it during a doggie-style fuck the night before The Date, I had the most intense orgasm of my life, deflating onto the mattress like a punctured sex doll.

  The day came. I was relieved, in a way, that we had chosen a week-night and therefore I didn�
�t have to obsess over things for fruitless hours. Instead, I focused on work, with occasional pleasant-frisson breaks during lulls in my schedule.

  I got home before Luke, and headed straight for the shower, where I spent a long time neutralizing my anxieties and making sure I was clean. Really clean. Actually and totally scrubbed spotless.

  Then there was body lotion, a sheer silky camisole, stockings, suspenders, no knickers and a very clingy dress. Heels, gold earrings, lip gloss, hairspray. All of that.

  Did I have to prepare the room in any way? I looked around, plumping up cushions nervously, contemplating putting a towel on the sheet, but thinking that might be uncomfortable to kneel on. If I was going to be kneeling. Was I?

  When my anxieties threatened to get to be too much, I left the bedroom.

  Luke walked in with a big bag of takeout food from one of our favorite restaurants. From the moment he saw me, it was pretty clear that he thought he wasn’t using his hands to their best advantage, so he dropped the food on the table and lunged for me.

  His hand traveled down my spine, tracing the ins and outs, down to the slope he really wanted to sample. He patted my bottom and stroked the stretchy dress up and down.

  “No knickers,” he whispered approvingly.

  “Thought you’d like that.”

  “Thought right.”

  The kiss was long and thorough, just like his attentions to my bum. The hem of the dress was pulled up almost immediately and from the back I’d have looked very much like that tennis player in the poster, if she’d been wearing stockings and had a man’s hand wriggling in between the cheeks of her ass. He’d prised them apart slowly but surely and by the time our tongues had worn themselves out in each other’s mouths, his fingers were stroking a firm, insistent rhythm up and down the crack.

  I was so wet I had to clamp my thighs together, which made me squeeze my muscles, which made him notice straightaway.

  “Oh, Lis, I don’t think I can wait,” he groaned into my hair.

  I didn’t think he could either. He was rock hard, pushing into my pelvic bone.

  “Go and get that dress off. I’ll put the food in the oven to keep warm.”

  I almost ran into the bedroom, discarding the heels, the earrings, the dress only minutes after putting them on.

  By the time he followed me, I was propped invitingly on one elbow on the bed, one leg crossed over the other, trembling with anticipation.

  “Get those legs open.”

  He flung off his jacket, did that sexy thing with his tie that makes it snake around under his collar then crack like a whip as it breaks free, and fell on his knees on the bed.

  He grabbed my thigh, making me squeal, and then dived in, feasting ravenously and a little unexpectedly on my juicy pussy.

  I suppose I’d thought he’d go straight for the main event, having waited this long, but the greedy tongue on my clit gave me no cause for complaint, especially when I came uncontrollably within a couple of minutes.

  “You were nice and wet,” he observed, looking down at my heavy-eyed, immobile form as he finished undressing. “Something on your mind? Something bad girls might think about? Eh? Getting you all hot and horny while you wait for me to come home and give it to you?”

  “You know it.”

  “Yeah?” His grin was rakish. “Been thinking about that, have you? Sitting at work squirming in your seat? Thinking about what I’ve got in store for your arse when I get it out of that prim work skirt and onto my bed? Well, I’ve been thinking about it too. A lot. Good thing people couldn’t see how hard I was under the desk.”

  “Were you as hard as you are now?” Surely he couldn’t have been harder.

  He squinted down at his erection.

  “Pretty much. Are you ready?”

  “Ready?” I shuddered. Here was the line, right here. I could cross it, or I could stay safely in the land of the unsodomized.

  “Ready to take me up your gorgeous arse?”

  He was practically salivating.

  I answered by sitting up and slowly arranging myself on all fours, knees and elbows on the mattress, bum up high, presented in the way he most treasured. I gave it a little wiggle, expecting him to grab that lube and set to work.

  Instead, he took his time. I listened to the drawer open and shut, then felt the mattress tip southward as he knelt in position behind me. My shoulders tensed, waiting for the uncapping of the lube bottle, but first he spent luscious moments kissing and caressing my cheeks, filling me with giddy lust.

  I wondered for a moment if he was going to go further than he’d ever gone before and slide his tongue down between my cheeks, but eventually he turned back to the bottle and the now-familiar sensation of cold liquid oozed onto my exposed bud.

  I sucked in a breath and tried not to tense my ring when his forefinger dipped into the slippery midst, spreading it around the circle in gentle, firm revolutions. He edged closer and closer to the epicenter while I concentrated on keeping myself loose and open, letting the desire overcome the fear and take control of my body.

  “Nice and relaxed,” he murmured, twisting his finger this way and that, screwing it almost imperceptibly farther forward with each tiny motion. The lubricant allowed it to glide in, not quite unnoticed, but painlessly. It still felt strange and I had to work hard to ignore the frantic signals coming down to my muscles from my brain that THIS SHOULDN’T BE HAPPENING but I breathed deeply and let him penetrate farther.

  “Mm, that feels tight,” he said. He stroked my flank while his finger poked and swiveled and I gave myself to the feeling of debauched abasement. “Imagine how much fuller you’re going to feel in a minute, with my cock up there.”

  He pulled out his finger.

  I whimpered a little and braced myself, but surprisingly he put his hands on my hips and nudged them sideways, indicating that I was to roll over onto my back.

  I looked up at him questioningly. He responded by lifting the backs of my thighs so my legs were drawn up to my chest, bent at the knees. He placed a pillow under my bum, lifting it higher, then pulled the cheeks apart again, staring down at the target area.

  “I thought you’d do it the other way,” I ventured, thrown off my stride by the thought of him being able to see my face while he buggered me.

  “I’ll miss being able to see your arse properly,” he admitted, lining the tip of his cock up with my suddenly rather tense ring of muscle. “But I’m worried if I can’t see your face I’ll miss a cue of some sort and end up hurting you. Believe me, we’ll do it the other way next time.”

  “Okay,” I breathed. “Okay.” I made a concerted effort to loosen those muscles again, regardless of that big blunt presence right up against them.

  “Are you ready, babe, are you okay? Do you need more lube?”

  “No, just…be careful, yeah?”

  “Of course I will. If it gets too much, you must tell me.”

  “I will.”

  I screwed shut my eyes and panted, feeling my small hole widen and stretch in its effort to accommodate this new intruder. It was never going to work, never going to fit…but it worked for countless other couples. Why not us?

  I put my faith in Luke, who had done it before, after all, and let the alarm bells in my brain die down.

  He slicked back and forth in the lube once, twice and then on the third attempt he put my body to its ultimate test. It stung like a motherfucker for a second or two, and then he was in.

  “Oh!” I exclaimed. It really felt very unusual, as if I was so stuffed full I might burst. I held on to him, clinging, my breathing speeding up, my body threatening to tip into a panic mode.

  “It’s okay, it’s just for a moment, it’s always a bit uncomfortable the first time,” he said, taking a moment to kiss my forehead.

  He moved farther in and then it really was uncomfortable, a burning spasm shooting outward from my rectal walls.

  “Push,” he whispered. “Push against it.”

  I pushed. Wi
thin a few seconds, the pain had passed and I was left with that full-to-bursting feeling again. Luckily, I really liked that one.

  Luke took everything very, very easy, watching me all the time for flickers of expression. Now, with the initial shock of penetration over, I was free to float into the headspace I’d imagined, a place of dark and primal submission, of feeling owned in every respect, taken in the most fundamental and intimate way, no longer able to say that any part of me was inaccessible to my lover.

  Even at Luke’s slow pace, the friction was intense, and his backward slides after each considered thrust felt like an unraveling that almost threw me back into anxiety. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to get used to it. Did people get used to it?

  “This is incredible,” he avowed brokenly. “Your arse is so tight and hot. I’m going to fuck it all the time now. I can see you’re enjoying it. You’re going to get this so much, Lis.”

  I couldn’t open my eyes. I couldn’t look at him, watching me while I got my bum fucked by him. The erotic humiliation of it was sharp and sweet, but something I felt unable to share just yet.

  “I’m not sure I can last…”

  He put his fingers square on my clit and began to rub it, speeding me on to a climax I didn’t feel quite ready for. I’d have appreciated more time to sink into the wickedness and wantonness of it. But perfect first times were rare. I was happy to settle for very good.

  And very good it was, his skilled fingers joining with his cock to form a sensation so immense that I didn’t know whether it was my arse or my clit that experienced the most pleasure. They seemed to become one with each other, playing on and enhancing each step toward orgasm until the final burst blinded me, throwing me into a bucking frenzy while his cock pumped furiously inside my passage.

  I was only dimly conscious of Luke’s orgasm, lost by then in a fog of powerful density. My own climax took a long time to wind down; I felt like a feather floating slowly to the ground.

  I opened my eyes to see a blurry Luke looming over me, gasping for breath, his brow shiny with sweat, his eyes glazed, pupils flickering. He looked as if he’d arrived in heaven. I put out my hand to touch his face.