vANALtines Day 2 – Fucking my arse (28f) [FM]

“Awww, come on Alice. It’s Valentine’s Day. The most romantic day of the year. The day for couples to show how much they care for each other… Let me put it in your arse!”

– The immortal line uttered to me by my then boyfriend, several years ago.

“Fine.“But since, as you so elegantly state, it’s a day for couples to show how much we care for each other, I feel you ought to share the discomfort. So. You can put it up my bum. But first, I get to slip something in yours.”

– My response.

This is a continuation of the reminiscence shared in [HERE](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/ljcxwr/vanaltines_day_ill_do_your_arse_then_you_can_do/) but, fear not, it can be read in isolation without issue. I’ll provide a very brief summation of what you’ve missed, or a gloriously succinct refresher if you’ve already experienced it once.

Quick sum up – Ryan (my boyfriend) with some reluctance agreed to my demands. We shared a shower wherein foreplay began and, to put not too fine a point on it, ensured that everything was ‘bum ready’. Once both cleansed and aroused we shifted to the bed where his fingers worked their magic, and my tongue did much the same. After some teasing and an abundance of lubrication I swallowed his cock and plunged my finger where the sun doesn’t shine. In no time at all he proclaimed an expletive and exploded in my mouth.

“Your arse was supposed to make me cum!” he said, grumpily through his breathless smile.

“It’s still Valentines Day for a while yet…” I grinned back.

And that’s where things are picking up.

Ryan was valiantly attempting to look disappointed despite being barely able to hide his broad grin and still gasping in the aftermath of what had been, even if I say so myself, something of a momentous orgasm.

For what it’s worth, my grin was easily as wide. Not only was I basking in the warm success of having generated such enormous satisfaction using mouth and a solitary finger alone, but more crucially my plan had gone without a hitch. Now, if he still wanted to ‘put it in my arse’ – the whole intended point of the endeavour – then he would need time to sufficiently recharge first.

And that meant at least twenty glorious minutes of him using his tongue and glorious fingers on me.

Devious? Yes. But given he would soon be inserting his cock into a part of my anatomy chiefly designed for things to move in the other direction, I felt it was forgivable.

“Better keep me entertained while you recharge so I don’t get bored and wander off…” I said, aiming for subtle and coy but missing entirely.

“Sneaky bitch” was his only response, a resigned look crossing his face as he laid me back on the bed, lifted my knees, and spent a little time finding a comfy position with his head firmly between my legs.

His oral skills were a moderately good six out of ten. Perfectly serviceable and able to get the job done, but very much not of the variety that make for a particularly entertaining anecdote. I’d often joke his tongue was wider than it was long, but what it lacked in delicacy it made up for in efficiency. Where his real skills lay were his, frankly, magic fingers. I don’t know what exactly it was he did with them as I could never contort myself into a position to see (Not that I imagine that particular angle is a good look on me), but whatever *it* was it was both effective and addictive.

And worked *every* time.

Subjecting myself to very nearly half an hour of this was more than enough to compensate for the discomfort I knew I was inevitably to follow. Which is to say that as I writhed on the bed, rolling almost 360 degrees, switching between grasps of the sheets and grasping the back of his head almost as though trying to pull him inside me, I really didn’t much care.

The bastard teased for the majority of the duration, always pausing or holding back if he felt I was getting close. He did it to annoy me, and to make a point.

He succeeded in both regards.

“Do I make you cum, then stick it in, then make you cum again? Or stick it in, make you cum and then see what happens next?” he asked, looking almost as smug as I’d been earlier.

“What do you think, Fuckwit?”

We were an endearing couple.

He dutifully performed his finger trick and didn’t stop until my legs were shaking. I genuinely think he wasn’t even intended to stop then, but to try to maintain the moment until he’d managed to get up my arse.

Watching him attempt to lube up one handed had me in such fits of laughter, it very nearly put me off my orgasm. It was akin to watching a great ape trying to be delicate with a tourist’s camera that has dropped into its enclosure, but instead inadvertently smashing the thing.

So I sat upright and lubed his cock for him instead. And It’s a good job penises don’t need to breathe, because I’d have drowned it.

We kissed as I stroked him back up to full erection, before spinning around and positioning myself on all fours. He took up position knelt on the bed behind me, his cock quite literally dripping with lubrication.

“Good luck!” he said, in an unbearably cheerful tone.

“Fuck off!” I replied, in an equally cheerful voice.

He reached forward and parted my arse cheeks so delicately and daintily that I burst out laughing. He asked me what was so funny and I told him that he wasn’t disarming a bomb and that it would be in his best interest to get on with it. Also to have his magic fingers ready.

He rubbed the tip of his cock against my arsehole for what felt like *hours*. I understand he was being gentle and careful and that fact is absolutely appreciated. But when you’re on all fours waiting for something to actually *happen* behind you, time very much slows down. Anticipation is a lengthy and cruel affair.

After several days had passed, he finally slipped inside.

“That okay?” he asked, hiding the delight from his voice.

“Mmm-Hmm” I replied, avoiding having to open my mouth. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit my teeth were gritted.

What followed was a truly unknowable length of time wherein his movement back and forth was almost entirely imperceptible. However, crucially, whilst it would be inaccurate to describe the process as ‘comfortable’, it certainly was in no way actively painful.

Several generations later, once it had been fully established that everything was fine, he picked up the pace. What it lacked in the aggressive rhythm of the best doggystyle sex, it made up for in sheer intensity.

Which is to say that he grabbed a firm hold of hips, and fucked my arse.

He sounded as though he was having a wonderful time. Every-so-often he’d ask me if I was enjoying it and, once I’d stopped gritting my teeth and unclenched my jaw I answered.

“Enjoying is the wrong word, but it’s fine.”

I know. I really aced the sexy talk.

My lacklustre answer however galvanised him into action. With his right hand he released my hip and reached around to the front.

Have you ever read a mystery novel and had that single moment of blissful revelation where you spot the vital clue and all of the pieces fully fall into place? Because that’s all I can liken the sensation to when he combined fucking my arse with his magic fingers.

It still wasn’t *comfortable*, but it did make *sense*.

My immediate and obvious enjoyment was all the encouragement he seemingly needed and, with his fingers deep inside me, he fucked my arse with the same pace and hungry intensity he’d fuck me normally.

With the renewed vigour it didn’t take long for my elbows to collapse, plunging my upper half down into the bed.

The sudden change in angle was apparently all it needed. Mere moments later he declared he was going to cum.

My head whipped around like lightning as I told him in no uncertain terms that if he came *in* my arse I’d slam a miscellaneous hard object down squarely on his testicles every night after he fell asleep.

He pulled out seemingly *just* in time, and shot several loads directly on to my bare arse. Normally I feel somewhat short changed if I don’t get to participate directly in the final act of completion – under normal circumstances I’d have spun around and finished with hand or mouth – but on this occasion I felt that, frankly, I’d already done enough.

But Ryan didn’t seen to mind. He was apparently too busy enjoying the image of his cum dripping from my posterior. He told me I had a really cute bum, and gave it a little smack supposedly out of appreciation, but mostly just splashing cum across the sheets.

I told him that earned him one night of heavy object on the testicles. He seemed reasonable sure I was joking.

–

After the cleanup he asked me if I’d enjoyed my ‘anal experience’. My reply is, to this day, one of the most spectacularly unsexy things I’ve ever uttered. It will be noted as something of a milestone moment in my own personal history. If you found any of the above even mildly erotic (though i’ve no reason to believe you have) and wish to retain any sense of that feeling, i’d highly recommend to stop here and not read the final line. You have been warned!

>!”Put it this way,” I said. “I’ve had considerable worse shits.”!<

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/lkm949/vanaltines_day_2_fucking_my_arse_28f_fm