I don’t tell a lot of people this but the greatest birthday present I ever received was a vigorous assfucking by the most talented pegger to cross my path.
It was all the more special because I was at a difficult point in my life. I was sleeping on my mother’s couch, my bank account was basically nothing and I was pretty unsure about any of my prospects. Despite that I do remember it as a bright time because I was seeing someone who as much a fiend for pegging as I was.
It was late on my birthday and I happened to be at Waterloo in the early evening. I’d seen friends out of town and was coming back on a cold winter evening to spend the night on the couch. I lingered at the station for a while, not wanting to officially end the day there. I got my phone out several times and put it back several times. I was thinking of her. We weren’t anything serious as a couple and as things turned out we never would be but I had real puppy-dog eyes for her. I made the fateful choice to look back at some very flattering shots she’d sent me of her new lingerie a few months ago, back when it was warm enough to be casual about that sort of thing. That sealed it and I texted her. A photo of me drinking a McDonalds tea in a setting that we both knew was about fifteen minutes away from her flat. I had never seen her flat, incidentally – she had said that she didn’t get on with her flatmates. I didn’t want to push the matter and felt that was as good an explanation as any.
And then she replied! Quite quickly considering how cool she normally played things – and she’d come to see me. The choirs of angels sang. Now, between my couch and her flatmates we didn’t really have a venue for any booty-calls so my plan at this point was fairly muddy. Did this even qualify as a booty-call? Do people even still call it that? Should we do something in the toilets? Not quite my style but maybe I’d been missing out. Maybe I’d become a toilet guy now. Then I had a more entertaining thought – maybe as the more fashionable and plugged-in of us, she’d whisk me away to some kind of secret London sexy club that I suspected might exist. Then I tried to puzzle over the logistics of such a club – if it was a loud, dark sausage party then maybe the toilets were the better option? What if it was actually great but I’d have to watch her be easily ravished by a crowd of people more fashionable and plugged-in than me. Would that be good or bad? I couldn’t decide. I finished my tea. The world felt difficult.
After a little while of stewing on this she appeared. Even the harsh fluorescent light of a train station food court she was everything I wanted to see. Short but not stocky, curvy and strong. She had a round and open face with dark hair to her shoulders. She was frequently laughing and dirtier than anyone I’d ever met. She was wearing a big winter coat and immediately said that she would have liked to be wearing nothing but skimpy panties underneath but it was really fucking cold out so I’d just have to imagine it, so that’s what I imagined. We decided to fight the cold on its home turf by getting some milkshakes and she got some good material out of ordering a vanilla.
We quickly established the basics – she took out a wrapped bundle from her bag and let me put my hands inside to discover that she had brought her cock (the second biggest one, I was very pleased to learn with a single touch) and a sporty new harness. It was a pair of elasticated briefs with an o-ring sewn in. She beamed with pride.”So I’ve come all this way,” she said about the short journey, “I’m going to have to plough you now.”
We got out our phones and we looked for a hotel or a hostel or a BnB or anything near by where we could make this happen. The nearest and cheapest one was a tube stop and a quick dash away and we went as quick as our little legs could take us. We arrived at the reception a bit breathless and fumbled through a booking. “My treat,” she said and she put her card in the reader while she slipped a cold finger into my hand and ever so gently poked it in and out of my fist.
I hung on to her finger as she led the way to the room, we swiped the keycard in the door, our hearts pounding, and it took us a solid second or so to process that we had just booked an eight bed dorm.
“There are curtains on the bed,” I tried.
So we went back to reception and she held her dignity high while explaining she wanted a room for, you know, just two, and then the receptionist broke the news with utmost professionalism that they didn’t have one and could provide a refund. The card machine took a long time to process it. I chewed my knuckles and looked for a place, maybe one nearby.
Now refunded, she came over to see what I had. It was a double bed and it was nearby but it wasn’t cheap. It would cost more than I had right then in my bank account. She put her hands on her hips and sucked air through her teeth and said, “Fuck it. We’re doing this.” She pulled out her phone and booked it right there in the lobby. I wanted to marry her.
We went out again at a brisk walk, then a run. I was vibrating at the check-in and we trumped up the stairs like elephants. We had a room. We had a bed. We had a shower and a toiler. I got in the shower and did my necessary business. I came out holding the towel coyly around me and she was stood, hands again on hips, erect and splendid. We both laughed in victory, with joy. I dropped the towel and padded over to her. Her cock brushed against mine as we kissed. She ran her hands over my back – still a little cold and covered my ass in a possessive grab. “I paid a lot for this arse,” she grinned. That made me blush. It was a new feeling, to be bought like that, and I think I realised I might have a new fetish. She twirled me around in a dance and grinded her big cock up between my cheeks. She held me tight against her with one hand, pressing against her breasts, and reached for the lube with her other. She grabbed a handful of hair and dribbled a whole lot of lube down my back. I shivered at the cold of it, pump after pump, and felt it slide down the small of my back and pool in my crack, and every grind she gave me lapped it up and coated my hole.
Then with a devil’s strength she pushed me onto the bed. Her cock didn’t have much of a head – it was smooth, tapered and shark-like, so she slid in its first half-inch with no effort. Then she paused and looked around, annoyed. I turned back, eager to help however I could although I was spreadeagled. She was looking for her glasses.
She found them and put them on with a slippery hand. “I want to see properly when my cock goes into your arse,” she said in a breathy, determined voice. She licked her lips and spanked me a big fat wet lubey slap and danced her cock into me. She was quite out of patience but she was good enough at fucking to glide into me with one, long, brain-splitting thrust that knocked the wind out of my body. Her pubis pushed right against the bone of my pelvis, she shouted, “What do you say?”
I knew exactly what she was talking about. “Thank you!” I coughed. She pulled back and thrust again, hard. I’d never taken it this roughly, this soon before and I gibbered in delight. She couldn’t play the hard bitch for very long and she laughed but carried on, “Thank you for *what*?”
“Thank you for my birthday present!” I sang.
“Wait, it’s your fucking *birthday?*” she said, and then she really went for it.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/d3twzl/32_pegged_on_my_birthday_the_rush_to_find_a_room
Way too much about the logistics of the story