Her First Anal Sex

June occupied the entire third and fourth floors of a
brownstone on Greenwich Avenue, not far from Tenth Street. In the
sitting room on the fourth floor, over white wine on wall-lining
sectionals, listening to some soft rock, she explained that she was
the New York office of a Scandinavian import-export firm. About
half of the third floor was offices — she had her teletype and
phones and files there — and the rest of the third floor was a
formal dining/conference room, a half-bath and a kitchen. The
fourth floor, in addition to the living room, had a television
room, a bedroom and a full bathroom. (more…)

The bedroom light comes on. There! On the far side of the bed. Is that a

faint indentation, as if perhaps a man had slept there? Possibly. Over

there, by the clothes closet, in front of the full-length mirror,

a woman is struggling to pull a pair of too-tight jeans over her ripe

posterior. She is crying softly and calling out a name.

Whose name? Yours.

“So, what do you think? Should I buy the damn jeans?”

“Oh yes, definitely. They fit you like a . . . I mean, they show off

your figure to perfection.”

“You admire a classically voluptuous woman, do you? That being the case,

I’m pleased to meet you. I’m Fiona.”

She paid for the jeans, and we agreed to continue our discussion in a

more congenial setting. For example, over dinner.

“Best meal I’ve had in ages.” Well, not actually the best, but at least

as good as I’d gotten in the fast food joints where I’d been eating all

too often lately.

I had known Beth for only a few months. She was pretty by anyone’s
standards, with nice legs, a firm behind, and somewhat small breasts (I
believe bite-sized is the term they are commonly called) with bigger than
average nipples. We didn’t make it until our fourth or fifth date, and I
can’t say that the sex was spectacular. Don’t get me wrong, it was good,
but until we went to a hunting lodge one weekend with Joan and Bill, two
close friends, our sexual adventures were quite ordinary.
We all went to bed early on the first night at the lodge, feeling
somewhat exhausted by the long trip and our hike into the woods. Since
Beth always slept without clothes on, she turned off the light and slipped
under the covers, snuggling up next to me. We couldn’t do anything because
Joan and Bill were sleeping right across from us.
At about 11:00 p.m., Beth arose from our bed and went downstairs. A
while later I also got up and found her in the living room, where she was
lying on the couch, on her side, still completely naked, facing the back of
the sofa, in the familiar fetal position. She appeared to be asleep. I
slinked onto the sofa behind her and discovered, by her gentle stirring,
that she was still awake. Not knowing what she was thinking, or feeling, I
turned on my side, so that my chest was pressed against her back, spoon-
like, and cradled her body against mine.
I reached around her to cup her small, almost girlish breasts in my
hands, stroking and kneading them and feeling her nipples slowly gain
erection. I moved my left hand down to her groin, pressing into the soft,
curly hairs, and began stroking there too. She responded by pushing her
ass back against me, parting her legs in the process, leaving her left leg
raised, lazily resting on my hip. Then, in her assertive way, she reached
between her legs and took my cock in her hand, guiding it to, but not into,
her. Still behind her, almost passive, my half-erect cock was between her
legs, and she was rubbing it in a slow, circular motion against her
clitoris. (more…)

Her voice came from somewhere behind me. I was standing in the aisle next

to Women’s Wear. The lady posing in front of the full-length mirror at

the entrance to the dressing rooms seemed to be talking to herself. Other

than me, there was no one in her immediate vicinity. And yes, the jeans

were a bit tight on her. In fact, she was literally bursting out of

them. Bottom-heavy, she was, and her ass would look big under *any*

circumstances, tight jeans or no. It didn’t just *look* big, it *was*

big — big and lush and pear-shaped. That ass, that huge beautiful ass,

was the fulfillment of every erotic fantasy I had ever had.

She was looking back over her shoulder. She was looking *straight at me*.

She had caught me staring! My guts turned to jelly and I started to turn

away. Where was the nearest exit? But . . . was that a hint of a smile

on her face? A mysterious smile. Yes. Making fun of me? Or . . .