by Jillian Boyd
Logically, I knew this was not true - that men, at least, could get significant pleasure from the stimulation of their anuses. But men had prostates. I had none. Every girlfriend who’d suggested touching mine had been turned down. I closed my eyes and silently prayed that Claire would not ask it of me.
She let out a soft sigh of pleasure at the sight, began rubbing herself over the fabric of her jeans. “Gorgeous,” she said. “Knew you would be.”
I blushed and looked away. The compliment was almost too much. I was the one who was supposed to compliment her when she did my bidding, not the other way around. And yet my clit throbbed, and I longed to hear more.
So when she said, “Pull them down all the way, slowly,” I yielded. I watched her as she watched me, her eyes growing increasingly dark. She stared at my arse. Her tongue darted out between her lips. “Bend over. Put your hands against the wall and spread your legs so I can see your arsehole and your cunt.”
Ah... what I had dreaded. She was as interested in my arsehole as my cunt. Shame filled me. But I couldn’t resist her will. Not when she looked at me that way, like I was a succulent morsel she wanted to devour.
I bent at a ninety-degree angle, palms flat against the wall, arse in the air. I spread until I felt air breezing over my labia and arsehole. My neck and face went hot from humiliation and arousal.
“Oh, so pretty.” Claire rose up from the bed and walked toward me, lowering herself onto her knees for a closer view. She pressed a finger to the opening of my cunt. I groaned and tried to sink myself down on it, but she grabbed onto my arse and held me still. “Not yet, Helen. There are so many things I’ve been waiting to do with you.”
She dragged a finger through my labia and up over my pucker. I cringed, my arsehole spasming. I knew I was clean down there because I had bathed while waiting for her arrival, and well-groomed because my aesthetician gave me regular waxes. But all that grooming was intended only to make my flaws less onerous, less liable to detract from the natural beauty of my good parts: my cunt, my skin, my smile. It wasn’t intended to turn this shameful part of me into something praiseworthy. That seemed impossible.
I clenched my cheeks in an effort to hide myself from her.
“You remember your safe word?” she said.
I nodded.
“Alright. Because I’m going to keep going unless you use it.”
I bit my lip. I didn’t want to use it. I wanted to see how far she could push me, how far I could move past the boundaries I’d caged myself in for so long.
“Stop clenching, Helen. Show me yourself.”
I took a deep breath and willed my muscles to relax. She moved her wet finger around my rim so lightly it tickled. I started to giggle uncontrollably.
“Ticklish down here? That’s a good sign.” She rubbed with slightly more pressure and the sensation went from ticklish to achingly erotic. The skin of my hole was incredibly sensitive - as much as my labia, if not more. Heat sparked to my clit and up my spine. My nipples, still hidden in my bra, went hard like cherry pits. I gasped and, against my will, wiggled to increase the pressure even more.
Claire leaned over me, the fabric of her shirt pressing against the bare skin of my back. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”
I moaned my agreement as she dragged more of my lubrication up to my arsehole and continued her seductive rubbing. There was so much wetness for her to spread over me. Each glide over my pucker felt almost frictionless. My opening went alternately tight with excitement and lax with desire, a rapid flip-flop that sent pleasure spreading through my cunt.
Claire kissed the rim of my ear. “Are you a virgin down there, Helen? Have you ever let anyone into your arse before?”
I shook my head. “No, I haven’t.”
“Would you like to, Helen?” Her breath was hot on my skin. “Would you like me to take you?”
I nodded desperately. “Teach me.”
Claire lowered herself to her knees and put a palm on each arse cheek, spreading me wide. “Oh, Helen, you smell delicious.”
I blushed at the praise. “No, I don’t. I’m just-”
Smack. Her hand came down hot and heavy on my arse. I flinched, shocked. No one had done that to me since I was a child being punished. I’d had a couple of girlfriends who’d tried in jest and I’d stared them down cold. They’d never tried again.
And this - this wasn’t even playful. When Claire spoke, her voice was low and serious. “Helen, if I tell you the sun is shining when it’s cloudy, you are free to contradict me. The state of the sky is a fact. But if I tell you I prefer cloudy days to sunny ones or vice versa, I don’t want to hear arguments. I am free to form my own opinion about things, as you are free to form yours. If you don’t think you smell delicious, you are entitled to that opinion. But don’t deny me the right to form mine.”
The place where she’d slapped still prickled. She soothed it with her palm and everything seemed to vibrate under her touch. “Do you want to use your safe word?” she said.
“No. You’re right. I’m just not used to-” I wasn’t sure what words to say next. Letting people form their own opinions? Putting another woman in control? Relishing my own body the way she seemed to relish it? I finally settled on, “I’m not used to letting go.”
“You should think carefully about whether you’re ready for this,” Claire said. “Because I’m going to keep pushing you.”
“I know,” I said, my heart beating fast. “I want you to. And-”
“Yes, my darling?” She laid a kiss right where she’d spanked me. It no longer stung - just felt more alive than the rest of my body. Ah. So that was the appeal.
“I remember my safe word. You needn’t ask me about it anymore, unless you prefer to.”
“Alright then. I won’t unless I feel it’s absolutely necessary.” Her lips moved from the fat of my arse cheek inward with slow, deliberate kisses. I shivered in anxiety and anticipation, unsure of where she was heading. Was it my sopping cunt or my unworthy arsehole she was aiming for? I felt terribly vulnerable, all my flaws and deepest shame exposed to this beautiful woman I so longed to please.
Her tongue landed on my cunt - gentle at first, soft and exploring. She licked up and down my folds, making me moan and drip ever more wetness onto her tongue. She moaned back, kissing me deeper, her lips touching me and then the flats of her front teeth applying the slightest pressure. Up and down she licked, then round and round: over my clit and my labia, probing into the opening of my vagina. I tried to push myself onto her tongue but she held me steady, her hands squeezing firmly into the rounds of my arse.
“I’m so close,” I whined. “Please, make me come.”
She pulled away just far enough to say, “No,” in a scolding tone that made my cunt quiver. “I am not your quickie. You will come when I am ready for you to come, Helen, and only then.” And then she did the thing I dreaded: she dragged her tongue up from my wet cunt and licked it on my vile arsehole. I was mortified, though against my will I groaned from the pleasure of the slick, wet contact. I worked my teeth over my bottom lip, wondering if I should say the safe word. It would be so easy to stop this, to make Claire pull away. To hide my indecency from her.
But then she moaned: a soft, longing moan that vibrated through my rim and sent my heart close to melting. She removed a hand from one of my arse cheeks, and when I dropped my head, I could see between my legs that she was touching herself through the fabric of her jeans.
This act was giving her pleasure. With that knowledge, I gave myself permission to accept the pleasure she was giving me.
I closed my eyes and let myself feel. There must have been a hundred thousand nerve endings in my arse, each one firing as her tongue passed over it. Every lick, every touch, was electricity. It was absolutely heavenly, like nothing I’d experienced before. To think I’d spent more
than twenty years as an adult and never allowed myself this delight - might have spent the rest of my life not even knowing it was a delight without Claire’s guidance.
“Claire,” I murmured, “oh, Claire. You teach me so well.”
She laughed, and whispered into my plump arse cheek, “You’re an excellent student, my dear.”
My rim went slack under her attention. For the first time, I clearly understood the desire to be probed down there, to have a slick object slide into the opening, to feel myself stretch as far as I could go. Earlier, when I’d told Claire I wanted her to take me, it was abstract. I had simply wanted my boundaries tested, and then abolished, by her. But now the desire was concrete and visceral. I felt it in my body. My arse felt hungry and ready to swallow her.
She jutted her tongue into the opening and I cried out, “Please, Claire. Please fuck me.”
“Would you like that?” Claire teased. “Would you like me to fuck your pretty arse?”
I nodded frantically. Her tongue, her fingers, the dildo in my bedside drawer - anything she wanted to shove into me, I wanted to take.
She stood up, pressing a fingertip into my opening. My arse swallowed around it, trying to pull her deeper in. She laughed - a light, happy laugh that made me long to please her even more. “Stand up.” Claire wrapped a hand around my waist and pulled me up from my ninety-degree angle against the wall. She pulled me flat to her body, her breasts pressed against my back. She rested her chin on my shoulder. “I will fuck you, my darling. But first you have to earn it.”
She pulled her finger from my arse, leaving me gasping at the loss. But instead of begging, I asked, “Tell me how to earn it, dear.”
She stepped back and I turned around. She began unbuttoning her shirt, revealing the insides of her gorgeous breasts. I reached for her. “Let me,” I said, and then realising my error, “I mean, could I undress you?”
“Not until you learn to ask the first time around,” she said with a cold glare. “Besides, I’m old enough to undress myself. Remove your bra, lie on your back and watch me.”
I unclasped my bra and dropped it to the floor, then lay on the bed with my head against the pillows. My nipples were hard and aching, my cunt and arse begging to be touched. I was tempted to stroke myself as I watched her, but she hadn’t commanded me to. So I kept my hands to my sides and let myself suffer from the wanting.
It was a lovely sort of suffering.
“Now, it’s quite easy to make me come with your hands,” Claire said as she undid her last button and peeled her shirt off. Her breasts were gorgeous, so firm and buoyant from her youth. I longed to squeeze them in my hands. “I could tell you exactly how to do it, just as you told me earlier. But you seem to be the type of woman who enjoys a challenge. Am I right?”
I nodded. “I am.”
“Good. I dare you to make me come without using your hands.” Claire unknotted the silk scarf at her waist. “Would you like me to assist you in performing this challenge by tying your wrists to the headboard?”
I swallowed heavily. I had occasionally fantasised about such things, but I’d never expected to find myself in a situation where it was a possibility. I didn’t think I’d find a woman I trusted enough with that power. But here we were. “Yes. Please.”
She was gentle with me, tying the scarf tight enough to hold me, but not enough to constrict. Then she shucked her pants to the floor. My eyes went wide. She’d had no panties on under them, just her soft, delicate nest of public hair.
“Oh Lord,” I murmured. “What a gorgeous bush.”
Claire smiled. “I think I’ll give you a closer view soon. But first-” She sank onto the bed, straddling me. She lowered her bush against mine and rubbed herself lightly up and down, up and down against my pelvic bone. “You’re beautiful, you know that? And don’t say ‘no,’ or I’ll have to spank you again.”
“No,” I said.
Her mouth fell open in a delighted laugh. “Well, aren’t you a cheeky one? Trying to top from the bottom, are you? I’ll give you a lesson.” She lifted up and turned me over onto my stomach - there was enough slack in the scarf to allow for that - and her hand came down on the cushiony part of my arse cheek not just once, but two, three, four, five times. Then she smacked the other one with equal vigour.
These were much harder smacks than the ones she’d given me before, definitely more pain than pleasure - or rather, I should say definitely more physical pain than physical pleasure. Because, mentally, I was flying high. Each smack bathed my brain in another flood of endorphins. I loved her willingness to correct me, and I loved showing that I could take it from her.
“There,” she said, rolling me back over so I faced her. “Next time you’re cheeky I’ll have to try something else. You obviously enjoy that too much. Now, where were we? Ah, yes. You were going to make me come without using your hands.”
I thrust my hips up to meet hers, rubbing as she settled her weight on me. She shifted and spread her labia. I ground up against her, and she purred.
“Mmmm, not bad.” She raised her hands to her breasts and fondled them, pinching the tips as I fucked against her.
She was getting wetter by the second, dripping down into my pubic hair and onto my mons. It made everything slicker, easier to move against her and with her. Her clit was so swollen now I could feel it as she ground against me.
My clit was swelling, too, and my nipples begging for contact. “Touch me,” I begged. “Suck my tits.”
She stopped her grinding. “Manners,” she said coldly. “You forgot to say, ‘please’.”
“Please?” I said, but I knew I was too late.
Claire made a disappointed sigh. “You don’t seem to be in very good control of your language right now,” she said. “First with your cheekiness, then with your bossiness. I’ll have to muffle you.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. On its own, it might not be terrible. Combined with the inability to use my hands, it made me tremble.
As if she saw my fear, she stroked my hair and said gently, “Don’t worry, pet. I won’t push you further than you can take.” She showed me a hand signal to use in lieu of a safe word.
I practiced it, then nodded. “Bend me to your will, Claire.”
I expected her to grab a piece of shed clothing and stuff it into my mouth - my bra, perhaps, or the drenched crotch of her jeans. Had she wanted to humiliate me, she might have chosen my own soaking panties.
But she chose none of these things. She hauled up toward the head of my bed and unceremoniously sat on my face, her pussy against my mouth. “Eat me, Helen. Make me come with your tongue.”
I almost laughed that she considered this my punishment. I’d eaten women out from this position before.
But within a few seconds I realised this was nothing like any of those other times. She had no mercy, settling her full weight on me. My nose was buried against her clit, my mouth immobile under her cunt. I almost panicked, worried I wouldn’t be able to breathe. But then I made an effort and discovered I could, in fact, take air in through my nostrils. It was warm and humid, heavy with her scent. Intoxicating.
I struggled to open my jaw. After a minute of effort, I succeeded well enough to stick my tongue out. I lapped at her folds and probed her with my tongue.
“Oh, yes, darling,” she said when I succeeded.
I licked hard as she ground into my face. She rubbed her clit against the tip of my nose over and over, backing off only long enough to let me catch my breath, then pressing in again.
“Do you know how hot it is to see you like this, Helen? To see you all tied up, willingly under my control?”
I moaned against her cunt and she shuddered.
She continued to speak, moaning and sighing, riding my tongue masterfully, her juice dripping into my mouth and down my neck. “I�
��ve been thinking about doing this to you almost since the day I met you. Saw how much you enjoyed bossing people around, how used you were to people bending to your will. ‘Oh,’ I thought, ‘that’s someone who needs a chance to let go once in a while. That’s a woman who needs me to dominate her’.”
A shock of pleasure jolted my body, almost as strong as an orgasm. I closed my eyes against it. It was her orgasm I was working toward, not my own. I licked her desperately, moving tongue and jaw and teeth against her.
“Oh, Helen, you’re so good at pleasing me.” She swiped her thumbs over her nipples, working them into pebbles. “I can feel you in my clit and my cunt and my-” She let out a guttural cry as I jabbed my tongue deep into her, licking against her walls as I rubbed the tip of my nose against her slick clit.
“There,” she panted. “There. My God, Helen, I do think you’ve figured out the secret to making me come. I’m so close, my darling. So-”
Her body went rigid as she came, her neck long and beautiful as she arched up toward the ceiling. Then she began to spasm, her thighs shaking against my cheeks, her cunt squeezing around my tongue. More juices flowed into my mouth and onto my chin. I lapped up as much as I could. It was like nectar to me.
She gripped the headboard to keep from falling. “Oh, my darling Helen,” she sighed as the last wave of her orgasm pulsed through her muscles, “you have done very well. You did a very good job with my cunt. Are you ready for your reward?”
I murmured my assent.
She spared no time in taking my arse. She wet her fingers in my cunt, then slid the first one into my pucker. It went easily, with no resistance. I was shocked by how easily my body accepted it, as if her finger belonged there.
Well, perhaps it did.
She played with me, dragging the finger in and out, letting me learn the joy of having my arse toyed with and coddled. The friction of her finger against my tight muscle felt shockingly good - nonsensically good, I might have said if I’d been capable of speech, because my arse was neither clit nor cunt and yet her touch on it aroused me to no end. With each stroke, I felt closer to coming.