If you want it, ask for it. That's how a girl gets what she wants... Right?

But seriously, how exactly does a vanilla virgin late-twenty-something ask her childhood best friend to... do butt stuff with her? You know, butt stuff...Anal stuff. His cock, my ass. Yup.

See, as far as Daniel knew, it would be one more loveless evening. He'd once again be the subject of my coy attentions, my tender but definitely not flirtatious teasing. I'd nonchalantly toy with him, sure, maybe lay my naked feet across his lap and beg him to massage them right now! or perhaps I'd run nimble fingers through his hair until he finally swatted my hands away, flustered and frustrated. Maybe I would do all that and more, but ultimately send him home with his tail—rather, his hard cock—stiff and unfucked between his legs. Maybe I would... but not tonight.

Daniel's dick and my asshole have a date at ten sharp, even if he doesn't know it yet.

I dropped my pants.

Fifteen before ten. Fuck me…

I stood with my back facing a large full-length mirror, each hand gripping a cheek of my ass, parting it for what was a pre-buttfuck examination before I got the business (or at least I hoped). I craned my neck so I could see what he would see when I pushed myself into his face: thick and supple ass, my asshole an off-brown, mauve but not unlovely color, clean and tight and taut. An ass that could work his theoretically fat cock like a clenched fist, drain those balls.

I decided I looked good to me, my body and ass. A-plus pass on the booty inspection—launch pad an “all clear!” for a big dick landing on this lovely, cloudless, starry-skied evening.

I peeled off my socks, my bra, my underwear, and shimmied on a red nightgown purchased just for the occasion, short and semi-sheer at the bust, slit at the leg so the thighs had room to part without resistance. I pranced tiptoe through the empty, dimly lit house with a newfangled poise and confidence I didn't have just moments before. I sat on the sofa and waited, the quiet room somehow abuzz, charged by a kind of unseen psychosexual energy. I rubbed my temples with the tips of my middle fingers, attempting to knead away my anxieties.

Get a fucking grip, Lana…

I mindlessly flicked through Netflix as I awaited Daniel’s arrival, mind everywhere but anywhere present.

Exactly when the whole “butt stuff” thing had started, it was hard to say.

I had always been the kind of girl to withhold sex with an understanding that it was one of my female superpowers, that it was mine to gift to the man that earned it, that won my heart. When my sweet yaya told me as a young teenager, A woman who knows the value of what she’s got between her legs is queen, I believed her. One day, I had told myself, I would give the right man my entire body, top-of-head to tip-of-toe, ass and tits and wet pussy. My hands, my feet. Teeth. Fucking ears, dude. Whatever. Literally all of me.  

But my man of myth, my big-dicked hero, never arrived.

So, it was the toys instead.

God, the fucking toys.

I mean, I was just like any other horny single in tiny town Pennsylvania—I wanted to be fucked to the bone, but my options were… well, limited was to put it mildly. But I needed thoroughly fucked anyway, yes, and I couldn't get dick out of my thoughts. Cock intrigue, big dick speculation, penetrated and informed almost everything I managed to do each day under the oppressive shadow of Lana’s Intense Sexual Frustration. There wasn't a phallic-shaped object that couldn’t inflame my hidden passions. The produce department at the local grocery store did terrible, terrible things to me. Between bananas, cucumbers, and—fuck me—eggplant—a girl couldn't catch a single solitary break. The phallus as symbol, it seemed, sprang up in the unlikeliest of places. A simple walk in the park could end with me racing home ten miles over the speed limit, once again the hopeless victim of some stick or branch that looked a bit too dick-like for this horny girl, and where my little toys would be waiting for me in the bedroom.

The toys worked me like an orgasm-summoning magic, but I stuck to the clit-targeting variety—my favorite was shaped like a rose but sucked like a ravenous vacuum— absconding from dildos and penetrating acts. I wanted true dick my first time, skin and blood and veins, and I wouldn't settle for cold imitation. Shit, I even wanted freakin’ balls, dude.

Yeah, I said it…

Balls.

Balls-in-my-mouth-kinda-balls balls, so what? Sue me.

And then came that life-changing, ass-upturning thought on some drab winter's morning last year.

On a whim the month before I had purchased this…okay—this super stupid dildo, something cute and totally inconspicuous, six inches with a not-too-thick diameter. Where the notion to do so came from, the implacable desire, I couldn't say with any specificity. I seriously had no intention of fucking my pussy with it and didn’t, but I wanted one “…just to have it,” or so I had rationalized aloud before hitting that idiot Buy Now button.

I later justified the purchase by telling myself that I could essay the whole blowjob thing, see what that was all about, a service I had never rendered before and wouldn’t until I—as you already know—found that right guy. I'd do the dirty deed with my little dildo in the meantime, just suck on it a bit is what, then probably toss the thing out. Besides, who needs a gorgeous “no strings attached” cock at the twenty-four-seven ready, right…? I mean it’s gross. It's completely gratuitous.

Well, it turns out that I’m gross and completely gratuitous.

And so that's what I did. I did the cock.

In truth, I’d sucked that dick like it was the last one on planet Earth for more than a month straight until I’d grown completely disgusted with the ridiculous Made in China knockoff. I needed real meat. The organic stuff!

Was I destined to remain some weirdo who sat around casually shoving silicone-based objects down her throat while all her friends were out enjoying healthy, active sex lives with their partners? No, that wouldn’t be me, I had told myself. I needed to…be better. Be normal.

Then it happened as I stood over the trashcan, ready to bucket that bad boy and call it a night.

Where exactly does thought arise from? Why do we think what we think, anyway? Those questions I don't have the answer to, but I remember the shock, the breathlessness, I felt when that carnal thought first entered my mind: I should fuck my ass. With this dildo, I should fuck my ass.

And I did fuck my ass. Again and again and again, I did.

It was as if my asshole had been starved its entire life, as if dick were its sweet and life-sustaining ambrosia. Soon I had upgraded my dildo by several magnitudes in the size department and had even become a dildo connoisseur of sorts. Dildos of all shapes and sizes arrived in the mail, and none of my boys—my cocks—would go unloved, each having its own warm and welcome stay in my asshole. My ass became the garage—admittedly, sometimes a two-cock garage—for parking dildos. Sometimes I’d lube my asshole, slap one of the big guys down on a chair, and just take a seat—that’s it. Just take a load off and kick the feet up on the desk, flex and crack my toes, my chosen cock nested inside me. Maybe read a good erotica novel or sip some tea before rising an hour later, pussy slick, desperate for some of that good ol’ clit-sucker action.

I just couldn’t get enough of that fullness, that super-stretched and entirely filled sensation.

As a rule, the thicker and longer the better. Girthy cocks could press against my pussy’s G-spot from inside the rectum, could send me into toe-curling superorgasm without a single finger stroking my swollen clit. I—and my eager ass— just couldn’t get enough.

I was addicted to butt stuff…

A gentle knock-knock-knock at the door snapped me from my reverie.

I jumped up, nearly falling over the coffee table at the foot of the couch. “Coming!”

I pranced to the door with all the gracefulness of a first-time unicycler before remembering that a last-minute face-nose-teeth check was non-fucking-negotiable and that I was about to maybe blow this whole damn thing over an overlooked broccoli curd stuck square between my two front teeth and Daniel would never ever—ever!— look in my direction again and would probably just hook up with that narcissistic bitch Rachel from high school who isn’t good enough for someone as sweet as he is and still she just won’t stay out of his DM’s and—fuck fuck fuck! 

 “One minute!” I bellowed in a voice much shriller than intended, racing for the bathroom as if it were a fire exit in a crowded nightclub billowing smoke and flame.

Teeth?

Check.

Face?

Check.

Nose?

Check.

And for good measure— the ol’ sniff test.

I ran a finger along the circumference of my asshole, pushed against it with the tip until it eased inside, then shamelessly raised it to my nose.

Booty?

Check!

A girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do. No apologies here.

I whipped open the door…and there he stood.

Daniel. Dan “the freaking” Man, Daniel.

He stared down at me with gentle, dark eyes shadowed by wild locks of unkept silver-black hair. Big, strange Dan.

He held up a six-pack of what appeared to be Corona Lights and said, “Sorry. Just beer.”

“What?” I asked.

I had barely heard him just then.

I was, as always, at once mesmerized by Daniel’s simple beauty, his unassuming and earnest countenance, the soft, congenial downturned puppy dog eyes beneath the heavy dark brow. He had always given me the impression of a black bear, what with his disheveled inky black hair, his impressive stature, the unseen but felt animal magnetism emanating from his person.

A guy like that just had to possess a big, fat animal dick. Just had to.

Simple math.

And it would be mine soon.

Damn. Am I really doing this?

“You said no beer, to get something else,” he explained with a shrug. “But there was nothing else open but the beer distributor on High Street, so…beer it is.”

I scoffed, rolled my eyes. “Just give me a hug and get in here, dude.”

An hour deep into the film and there sat big, clueless Daniel bathed in magenta LED light, eyes sparkling, enamored by the film—some boring sci-fi flick called Blade-something or whatever with Harrison Ford, who cares— attention entirely arrested, key thrown away. I had even tried the feet-in-his-lap trick to no avail, lying on my stomach across the sofa opposite him, bare feet crisscrossed and resting just above his groin, and nothing…Not even the vague impression of an erection.

On top of that, I wasn’t even tipsy. I mean three fucking beers, Daniel? Really?

I peeked at him from beneath my frizzy, curly hair.

Mild-mannered, thoughtful, sincere eyes. Pouty lips, probably sweet to the kiss, or so I imagined.

The guy had barely even noticed my overpriced nightgown.

Not even a double take at my breast, the nipples quite clearly visible through the diaphanous fabric, hard, hypersensitive, and ready to be sucked if he would only just ask.

What the hell is with him?

Or was it me?

Time to pull out the big guns, one final cannonade against Daniel’s modesty: I used the elbows of my folded arms to slightly maneuver the satin fabric of my negligee, the hem rising just a tiny bit, revealing the undercurve of my heavy ass. Oh yeah—figured I wouldn’t need any underwear tonight.

And yeah, I totally did that on purpose.

How could he resist my—

The hem of my dress went taut, then gently fell to a rest against my mid-thigh.

The motherfucker had covered me back up… And he’d done a damn good job at it too, the fabric now even lower than where it had begun.

I shot him an accusatory glace, angry. Irrationally so, I know.

He threw up his hands as if waving flags of surrender. “Sorry, Lana,” he said, then let loose a chuckle. “You were showing, darling… I had to.”

I fixed my face—I knew I had nothing to be angry about. Fuck. Daniel was decent, always had been. I supposed he always would be.

This whole thing, I decided, was stupid. Maybe worse…

Maybe it was even wrong.

The first pangs of a terrible guilt formed in my chest.

 “Oh, of course,” I said in the most sympathetic voice I could muster, pulling my feet away from him, pulling myself inward, shutting it off. All of it. This whole stupid thing. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. You… you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Thanks,” I said, staring into his eyes. “Dan ‘the fucking’ Man,” I whispered.

He grinned and like a good grin often does, it forced one of my own.

Fucking Daniel, man. Too good.

He picked up the remote and paused the television. “So, are you going to tell me?” he asked.

“Tell you what?”

“You know.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know shit, dude. What are we talking about?”

It occurred me then how totally fucking obvious this whole manufactured arrangement was. The stupid outfit, the overeager feet, the failed ass reveal. I was a perverted dork, and he was on to me.

“You haven’t been watching the movie.”

“I was…”

“What’s it about?” He raised an eyebrow, smiling.

Shit shit shit!

“Um…there’s like robots and shit,” I said. “Ford’s like a replica or something and he doesn’t know it, right?” Honestly, I had a vague memory of reading something like that about the film once, but I hadn’t a clue if there was any truth in it. I secretly crossed my fingers.

He laughed. “Not exactly. What’s the title of the film?”

“What?”

“The title? What’s it called?”

I took my shot. “Blade—um—Gunner? Yeah! Blade Gunner.”

He exploded into a fit of boisterous laughter.

I crossed my arms, feigned a pouty face. “Shut up. I don’t care about this dumb movie, man. It’s pretentious crap. We should have watched Aliens VS. Predator or something. Now there’s a movie!”

More of that ridiculous laughter followed by something like “You’ve got to be kidding me!” and then a long and boring lecture about how this Blade-bullshit is a verified classic, that it inspired sci-fi for decades to come and that I don’t know good cinema when it slaps me over the head. Typical Daniel shit…and I loved him for it. I let him talk because sometimes I just liked to hear him geek out.

He suddenly stopped mid-sentence and said, “You really don’t care about this stuff, do you?”

“Not really,” I admitted. “But I love your passion. No jokes.”

“That’s not at all how you felt when I dressed up as a storm trooper for our senior year homecoming.”

I laughed. “Bro, that’s ancient history. Let it go.”

“You wouldn’t dance with me.”

“I was a dumb kid,” I whispered. “I wanted to be cool, and you were… uncool.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, shrugged. “I know I was.”

“But the nerds ended up winning everything,” I said. “You made your first million a year out of college, bro—I mean who’s cool now?”

“Luck,” he said. “Just the right skillset, the right timing. Most startups fail in the first year, you understand?”

“Luck is predictable,” I said. “The harder you work, the luckier you get.”

“Brian Tracy,” he said.

I shrugged. “I guess.”

He took a sip of beer, palmed his chin. He appeared to be mulling over something, brow furled like he would when considering a subject thoughtfully.

We sat for a moment in shared silence. The soft, isolated hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen was the only sound I could hear over Daniel’s breathing. Then softly—

“All that and I still come see you two weekends a month.”

It was true. Little ol’ me hanging out with a Forbes A-lister, a Silicon Valley hotshot known for his creative ingenuity, humility, business acumen, and surprising charitability.

If you’re wondering why Daniel never became that aforementioned “man of myth,” why I hadn’t shackled him down and fucked his brains out years ago, then you’d be overestimating my ability. Dan “the fucking” Man had been shacked up with girl after girl since high school had ended. He went to a prestigious college and, surprisingly, had the most staggering glow up I’d ever seen.

And those girls Daniel went through? Fucking perfect. Fuck a ten-out-of-ten—think ratings-shattering beauty, ethereal goddess-level type hotness. I’d gotten a double take once or twice in my life, I think. Maybe? But try a quadruple take; think Vogue or Cosmopolitan, think Playboy bunny. I’m as straight as a metric ruler, but even I would curve sideways for one of those Aphrodites.

Daniel and I just wasn’t going to happen, and I knew that.

But maybe he would fuck me…

 Just my ass because even a hotshot like him wasn’t getting this pussy unless he wanted to be mine. Truly mine.

Yet even that appeared to be off the table now.

Dan had displayed no interest in me. Not just tonight…but ever. I was a fool, and the games I’d been playing whenever he stopped by…It was manipulative, inconsiderate.

I finally spoke, having been at a loss for words. “Yeah, two weekends a month…”

“That means a lot,” he said.

I shook my head rapidly. “I know I know. It really does, Dan. Thank you.”

“And”—he took a deep breath— “the hour-and-a-half drive to get here from Pitts is no joke.”

I nodded my head in agreement more times than I needed to, just so he could see that I was grateful. He was so fucking right. “Thank you so fucking much for being a great friend,” I said.

My heart rate began to rise, then the palpitations began. My breath felt shallow yet heavy, difficult to release and harder to inhale.

Daniel—he was shaming me, wasn’t he? Letting me know how much he’d done for me, how he doesn’t have to do it…He was better than me and he still did it and I’m a total moron who didn’t deserve any of this, wasn’t I? I was broke and he was rich and amazing and handsome and one of the “World’s Most Interesting Men,” like it had said in giant type on the August edition of this year’s GQ magazine cover where he posed shirtless in a stunning black-and-white body shot.

Holy shit, I had played myself. This was a breakup conversation, only between lifelong friends.

The thoughts found me then, descended upon me like so many dark vultures, went to work on my body and soul.

Maybe you’re like me…Maybe you’ve been there yourself. The thoughts, how they spring upon you suddenly and without warning, breaking down your hard-won self-esteem, razing months of self-work in only mere moments.

Where does thought arise from? Why do we think what we think, anyway? Sometimes it comes from a lightless place, I’ve learned.

And my inner voice spoke:

You’re fucking disgusting. You’re a weirdo who lives alone and goes to work and plays with dildos and that’s it. Even your childhood best friend can see that. He’s embarrassed by this whole thing.

“And basically…”

How about you get a fucking life and get on Tinder or something and settle for somebody who’s into a doorstop like you? How about you do that, Lana?

“…what I’m getting at here is that…”

But you won’t, will you? Let’s be honest, you’re single because, really, you’re just kind of unlikeable and—honestly—a little chubby. Okay, you’re at least twenty pounds overweight, and that stomach—starting to see a little bit of a pouch there, yikes! Guys just don’t like girls like you, Lana. It’s plain as can be, but you hide from that truth, don’t you?

“…well…”

There’s no other way to put it: everyone would be so much better off without you. So how about you just—

“…I like you.”

I returned.

“What?” I asked.

“I like you, Lana.”

Where I had gone just then, it was hard to say. But Daniel’s voice had called me from that faraway place. “No, you don’t…” I said. “Don’t say things like that.”

“I do,” he said. “Maybe it’s more than that.”

“More than—” I said before cutting myself off and rolling my eyes. “Fuck you for teasing me.”

What the hell was he saying? He couldn’t be saying this…

“I just—I can’t stop thinking about you, lately. Is it really so crazy?”

He sat stooped over, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together and staring at me, not even the suggestion of a smirk at the corners of his lips. Still, I sat at the other side of the sofa, head resting against my knees, toes clenched and hidden by the upholstery.

I looked into his eyes. Large, dark. Black portals. Still earnest, those eyes. Honest.

“…Yes,” I said. “Yes, it is.”

“Then I’m nuts about you, and I don’t care if it is crazy.”

He stood and moved to the middle seat. As he sat, my cushion slumped toward his, and I had to resist sinking in his direction.

“I’m serious,” he said. “Dead.”

I placed my hands over my feet, pressed my closed eyes against my kneecaps. “Don’t look at me,” I said.

“Why not?”

“Just don’t…”

“I like looking at you,” he said.

“No,” I said.

“I know you want me too, Lana.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“You want me.”

I breathed in deeply, exhaled slowly. “Yeah, so what if I do?”

“So have me then.”

“I’m not sure what that means.”

“Let me touch you.”

Quickening heart rate, hardened nipples. I could feel myself radiating a kind of interior heat, could feel the dampening divide between my legs. The wetness came suddenly, my pussy contracting involuntarily. “You’re just stupid,” I said, voice airy, nearly breathless. “You don’t make any sense.”

“I want you.”

“You can’t have me—my—my virginity,” I said.

“Then I won’t—”

“You’re not my fucking boyfriend.”

I wouldn’t lift my face, wouldn’t dare to look him in the eyes. Not right now, not during this—this fucking conversation. We were seriously talking about sex! Daniel and me. I couldn’t believe any of it. Not us, he wouldn’t. Daniel’s cock inside me… It was impossible.

“Then just kiss me for now,” he said. “That’s all.”

But I did want to fuck him. I did! It just couldn’t be that. Not my pussy. But there were other things, and I had to tell him that, didn’t I? How do you say it?

You just ask, don’t you? You just say the things you’ve needed to say.

“But there’s obviously other ways to go about it,” I said.

“Right…Go on…”

“Like… giving oral, for instance,” I said. “And there’s…like, hand jobs and griding, even butt stuff if a person’s into that.”

“Butt stuff?” he asked.

I went flush…hot. I could feel a single bead of sweat trail down the side of my face. There was no turning back now.

“A-anal,” I told him, voice quivering, “and other stuff like that, you know? Basically, like my whole body is okay besides my pussy…but…”

“But?” he said.

“But I really love butt stuff, not that I’ve ever had anything real. I mean I’ve never been with anyone. I’ve used toys—dildos, man.”

“You’re so sexy,” he said. “I’d love to do that with you, Lana.”

Quite frankly, I was stunned. And I felt better, so much better. I had said so much I needed to say, and it felt good, no matter how inarticulate.

And he wanted me. He wanted… me.

What the actual fuck?

I was practically dripping.

I shuddered. “You’ll fuck my ass then?” I whispered.

“I’d love to do whatever pleases you.”

“Will you lick it, too? Eat it—my ass?”

Now my mouth was just moving, words tumbling out without permission. It was full steam ahead. I had lost my mind.

“Yes,” he said, signature earnestness still intact. “I will, Lana. I’m dying to.” He spoke in his typical measured manner, but the words held a kind of aural weight. They came slowly, then tumbled out as if over a cliffside.

“You’re gross,” I said. I chuckled gently, glanced at him for just a quick second.

“I don’t care,” he said. He leaned in and kissed me—hot and sweet, just like I’d always imagined it would be. “I don’t care if I am.”

I was powerful now. And he was hot for me.

“Will you suck my toes and clit and put your dick down my throat? Will you put your balls in my mouth?”

“Fuck, Lana. Yes! Yes, I will.”

I shot a steely-eyed look at him, fixed my gaze on his without looking away. He stared back at me with desperate, pleading eyes.

“Then,” I said, “take me up to my bedroom and fuck me in my ass until I cum.”

I had been right on the money—Daniel, my big bear man, had a massive animal cock. A thick, long dick dressed in engorged veins, the cockhead swollen like a fat, juicy red plumb, hung between his legs. It was the most incredible cock I’d ever seen.

“Fuck, man,” I said, shook. I couldn’t wait to have him in my ass, but I’d make him earn it first.

I was on my back, naked, legs akimbo. It felt good to be open and before him that way, pussy lips spread and dripping cum like viscous tree sap, coating my ass and beginning to soak the bedsheets. I was hungry with anticipation, ready for him to do to me what he said he would.

I was the shining subject of a most wonderful dream, Daniel my ultra sexy co-star.

Daniel stood at the foot of the bed, naked from the waist down, just staring as if I were a work of precious art, a Picasso or da Vinci piece, and he was taking it all in. “You’re the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” he said. “Truly.”

“Take your shirt off,” I said, “and get to work.”

He pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it aside, and I was glad he did. His body was gorgeous, lean and muscled, glistening in the milk-blue glow of moonlight pouring in between the window blinds.

He climbed into bed, cock dangling free between his legs, the heavy balls between his thighs swinging like some goofy, rhythmless pendulum. I was in a daze, drunk with a kind of self-contained ecstasy held back behind some mental dam, waiting for him to touch my—

He gripped my left foot in his hand and ran his tongue along the sole. It was electric, but he kept going, kissing his way up along the arch and taking my tiny toes into his mouth.

“Fuck!” I practically screamed. The pleasure was too intense, the nerves ablaze and firing like supercharged pistons.

I pulled away, but he sucked me back in.

He’s sucking my toes. Daniel is. He’s going to eat my pussy and ass.

I couldn’t turn off my interior narrator, who found herself in a constant state of stunned surprise.

Daniel’s going to cum deep inside my ass…

I imagined myself used up, spent, legs folded over one another, my arm draped over the side of the bed, cum dripping from my asshole.

How in the world did I ever pull this one off?

His tongue waltzed over and between each of my toes, then he went to the other foot, then to my calf, then up between my thighs sucking, kissing, biting my flesh and pulling me into his mouth. He was devouring my body, tasting each portion of flesh with a nimble tongue, moaning as if he’d never had another quite as flavorful, quite as delicious as I.

He gripped me from behind the knees and pushed my legs so far back that the heels of my feet bumped up against my ears. My back rested against his chest, my hot pussy and ass a wet, open-faced sandwich just inches beneath his gorgeous lips. He peered down into my holes like an expeditioner peering over a gorge, and there he found life. Translucent juices ran along the natural runnels of my pussy lips, down and around the grooves bordering the hood of my clitoris, along my stomach toward my navel.

I watched in entranced arousal, mind reeling.

 He breathed in deeply, running his nose up against my asshole, then up until the tip bumped gently into the hood of my clitoris. “You smell so fucking good,” he said in a fey, faraway voice. The kind you only find in dreams. “So good.”

“Lick me,” I begged him, reaching up and forcing his face inside my pussy. “Lick me, lick me, lick me.”

His lips wrapped around my clit, cheeks hallowing, and my flesh was sucked into his mouth. He licked, flicked, rolled my clit and labia between his tongue and teeth like a wad of wet gum, worked sweet nectar out of me like eager lips slurping the juicy meat of a ripened mango. I clenched my toes, gritted my teeth—I’d never felt a sensation quite like that. So fucking good. Mind-rattling.

I watched with dumb, wide-eyed fascination as he used his dexterous tongue to taste the entire surface area of my visible pussy. He dropped it inside the dark hole of my cunt like a ladle searching for meat at the bottom of a stock pot. The pink flesh of my labia hung from his lips like pretty-pink noodles, entering and exiting his mouth in intervals as his full lips ran through my dripping slit, his tongue lapping wildly at my insides.

I nearly screamed as he moved to my taint, then further back, and pressed his tongue against the entrance of my ass until it worked its way inside. His strong hands gripped the fat of my ass cheeks, holding me apart, as he tongue-fucked my anus.

He’s doing it! He’s eating my ass.

Daniel was actually eating out my ass… I was living out my dream in real-fucking-time. Me! Lana Rodriguez middle-of-nowhere, PA, had the tongue of one of the most desirable men on the planet buried inside her ass, tasting her rectum. Her childhood best friend…now lover.

None of it made any damn sense, but here he was… looking down on me with his mouth wrapped around my anus, sucking it, licking it out, frenzied eyes watching me with a desperate fervor.  The man couldn’t get enough of my body, my holes.

And I loved it. Every carnal moment.

I reached blindly under me as he engaged his dark work, searching for his cock. I gripped an object the size of a large doorknob, yet soft. Flared and wet. It was the head of his big cock, the engorged, swollen glans dripping copious precum down and along the veined ridgeline of his shaft.

He groaned as I blindly took the length of his massive cock into my hand, pulling, trying to draw what I could out of it, until my fingers were wet and sticky with his fluid. I took back my hand and he watched as I licked my fingers clean. It was his taste…and it was good. Delicious.

Sweet. He’s sweet.

I wanted him to cum in my ass, but I knew I had to taste his nut too. Who says I couldn’t do both? He could come twice—mouth and ass.

Daniel came up for air, face slick with my pussy juice. “I need to fuck your ass,” he said. “I need it now…”

His voice was that of a man aching, longing, as if he’d come across a desolate desert and my ass was a life-giving oasis. He had wanted to drink, and he had drunk. But now…now he wanted to enter my butt, to take that great plunge deep inside me. Would I let him return to the surface?

I nodded. “Let me suck your dick first. Cum in my mouth first.”

“Your ass…Can I cum in your ass, Lana? Please?” he begged.

“You’ll cum more than once,” I told him. “Trust me. Now lay down on your back.”

It was time to put that dildo-sucking practice to good use.

I wanted to suck him until he was all used up, dead weight, an out-of-service hunk of man meat left out to dry. I wanted to run him into the ground, to suck his very essence out of his body through the head of that incredible cock. The slit at the head of his dick was so generous that I bet it could have taken a quarter in its slit.

He rolled off me and onto his back. He placed his hands beneath his head and looked at me with the most mischievous smile. “I can’t believe this shit,” he said.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said. “You and me.”

“Never thought you’d be fucking your best friend, did ya?” I laughed, then kissed him hard. I could taste my pussy in his mouth. I placed my index finger against his lips. “Now shush it.”  

His body, his remarkable physique, was incredible: muscled, defined, chest and abs and obliques almost overdeveloped. He had a deep V-cut bordering his abdominals that almost appeared to be carved into his flesh, just above a clean-shaven, hard cock.

The thing was at least eleven or twelve inches! True, I’d never had true dick, but I knew my cocks. I’d had plenty of ten-inchers in my ass and mouth, and this one—Daniel’s—was a real fucking specimen. Not only long, but thick! Adamantine hard, too. Robed in gorgeous blue and purple veins, his cock was a work of biological art…

And it was mine… My big fat Daniel cock. Mine to suck, mine to fill my ass with. In that moment, I felt like the luckiest woman on planet Earth.

I swept anxiously along his body like a roving cloud, tits dangling over his skin like twin tornadoes, hard nipples running against gooseflesh like needles across a human record. He was built like a brick house, but there was gentle give at just the right places, warm meat to grip, scratch, bite into. Heat resonated beneath his bronze skin. Everything about him demanded sex, demanded that I fuck him until he filled my cervix with cum.

I ignored those impulses.

It was time to suck his dick, to drain those stupidly enormous balls until they ran dry. That was my job, and I committed myself to it.

I was, after all, his best friend. Such a title obviously demanded that I give him the best kind of treatment—and that meant giving him the best head of his entire fucking life.

“Just a sec,” I told him. He watched as I stood and walked to the mahogany bureau across from the bed, my ass jiggling with every step. I found what I was looking for— a simple hairband. “Just getting this hair out of the way,” I told him with a sly smile.

“You’re a dream,” he whispered as I crawled back onto the bed, taking his cock into my hands.

“Ready?” I asked him. I licked the tip of his cock, giggled.

I felt good. So damn good, just here with Daniel, entirely present in the moment. Maybe I was even happy…How long had it been since I had felt that way? Just pure, unrestrained happiness without any frills? Long, long time.

“Yes,” he said. “I am.”

I pursed my lips at the tip of his cock, pushed against the purple, swollen head, and took him deep inside my throat in a single smooth motion— all maybe-twelve inches of him. The practice had paid off.

“Fuck!” he bellowed. “Lana—oh!—fuck…”

Shit, I actually did it...

He gripped the duvet as if holding on for his very life, mouth agape, disbelief in his glazed-over dark eyes.

I loved his rich taste—musky, with subtle notes of sweet vanilla. It was my first time sucking cock! and it was fucking good—and I was pretty damn good at it, too. His thick cock was down my throat, and I’d have gotten the balls too, were it possible. He held the back of my head with both hands, bucking into me, but I wouldn’t release him. Instead, I held his cock still between my teeth, biting down at the base with not enough pressure to cause real pain, but enough to convince him to relax and still himself.

He obliged. “It feels too fucking good,” he said. “I—I’m gonna cum, Lana.”

I imagined I could see a side profile X-ray shot of my head and neck, of the quivering enormous cock inside me, nested between the wet walls of my throat, pulsing with uncontrolled pleasure, ready to burst and give way like a sudden dam break. It made me hot, knowing that he was inside me like that. Knowing I had total control of his cock and pleasure.

I slowly pulled him out of me, lapping at the surface of his cock’s shaft the entire way, inch by inch until the head emerged, dripping creamy precum. I gently sucked the head to a polished finish, Daniel cursing and kicking his legs as I worked his glans with my tongue. I kissed his cock from tip to balls, then took his sack into my mouth. He uttered incoherence as I sucked each of his balls, alternating between one then the other, giving both attention and sometimes taking them both into my mouth at the same time. I ran my tongue along the tender longitudinal line running up his scrotum, and he quaked beneath my attention, cock jutting, pumping, a trail of liquid bubbling from the tip and running down him until it met my tongue. I left not a single drop behind, then looked up at Daniel and told him, “Now I’m going to make you cum. Then you’re going to fuck my ass, okay?”

“Okay,” he said in a vacant monotone. Daniel was somewhere else, someplace I had taken him with just my mouth alone.

And the only way to bring him back, was to make him cum.

I gripped his cock at the base and held it tightly with both hands.

Again, in a single motion, I swallowed him tip-to-base, only I didn’t stay down there this time—I moved up and down and up and down, sucking and licking, vigorously working his cock with my tiny, twisting hands.

He came fast and hard.

A deluge of warm, sweet-tasting cum flooded my mouth, then I slammed him into my throat where he continued to pump into me, his orgasmic howl tapering off until a gentle mew, his rough hands loosening into a tender hold.

He ran his hands through my hair as I sucked the leftover cum off his cock and balls. I licked my fingers. “You taste like a sugarplum…”

We both laughed.

“You taste amazing yourself,” he said. “That was the best I’ve ever had, Lana. Swear it.”

“We’re not done yet,” I told him, gently kissing his cock.

It stood erect, hard, unwavering. “I know,” he said.

We kissed in silence for a long time.

I waited on the bed, head down and ass up.

I had lubed my butthole generously, but I knew it would hurt like hell. A cock like that always did, at least until pain vacated the premises pleasure would suddenly flood in to occupy. I peered behind me as he took up a mounting-position, one hand gripping my hip and the other guiding his lube-coated cock toward the entrance of my ass. When it found its port of entry, it rested there snug against my anus without breaching my walls.

“Stick it in!” I demanded.

He stared down at me, and gasped. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “I’m pretty big and—”

“Shut up,” I said. I reached back with both hands and pulled my ass cheeks apart, kegeled so my anus winked at him. “Stick it in, now. Just fuck me and shut up.”

I had waited long enough for this moment. A little pain wasn’t going to tank this experience for me, fuck that! Daniel wasn’t leaving this room without filling my ass with cock and cum.

He exhaled a long breath. “Okay…”

He moved inside with a single stroke, my hole receiving him in total, balls slapping hard against my pussy. It was like nothing I’d ever felt before, equal parts pain and pleasure, a sensation so full that it was as if he’d entered my ass and pussy simultaneously.

“Fuck!” I screamed, releasing my ass and clenching the bedsheets between my fingers. “Holy fucking shit…”

Daniel gripped my hips, panting. “D-d-damn…It’s so tight. You feel so fucking good. So fucking good.”

I stood up on my knees until my back met his chest, threw my hands behind me and gripped his hard ass cheeks, pressing him still deeper into my body. He bit and sucked at my neck as I ground him inside me, whispering, “Yeah, baby. Yeah, just like that. Like that.” I rotated my ass in messy figure-eights, working his cock from within, pressing into it then pulling away, pumping it with my sphincter muscles. I could feel every vein, every ridge and bulge, the entire shape of his cock against the walls of my ass, filling me as if an insert cut flush and perfectly fitted for my rectum. A cock personalized just for me. My holes only.

“Back down,” he told me, pushing my head back down against the mattress. “I’m going to move now.”

“Okay,” I told him, ready for it. Needing it. “Fuck me.”

He pulled out of me, just the head of his cock held captive by my sphincter, then slammed back inside with a single, smooth stroke. Another clap of his balls against my pussy, another toe-curling pressure-release before being filled up again. Then he went to work, pounding my ass as if he were engaged in a high-rep workout, pulling out then barreling back inside, again and again and again. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck…” I kept saying, having been rendered dumb by it all, having nothing else, only seeing and feeling his intense cock-work inside me, wanting his cum not only inside my ass but also in my pussy and my eyes and mouth and throat, across my face and tits and dripping in thick strings from my painted toenails. I wanted him all over me; I wanted to drink him up until nothing remained.

“Ah, fuck!”

He grunted and came inside me, a powerful orgasm that racked his body. I took it all as he fell into me, panting and pumping, his balls emptying inside my ass. I’d had plenty of my own great orgasms in my life, but I’d never experienced one quite like his: it was prolonged, intense, maybe even profound. Even after lying on top of me for a minute, cock still planted in my ass, post-orgasm aftershocks shook his body with tremors. When he finally pulled out and fell on his back beside me, cum poured from my ass as if it were on tap—it was totally obscene, almost comical—the pressure of his massive cock finally released. He gently stroked my head as I lay there, pushing the last of his cum out of my guts.

“You’re…You’re the best I’ve ever had, Lana.”

I laughed. No shit, I was. You don’t plot fucking someone’s brains out for years and not give your best when the moment finally arrives. “I know I was,” I said.

I sat up and looked down at the pool between my legs. I couldn’t resist…

I swung myself upright and over the bed, walked to the foot, crawled back up on all fours to where Daniel’s mess came pouring out of me, and hovered over my prize. I smiled, licked my lips, tucked a stray hair behind my ear as Daniel watched me, that atypical look of concern and confusion across his face. “What are you doing…?”

I shook my head and giggled. “Eating your cum,” I said, licking the sheets like an ice cream cone on a hot, summer’s day.

“Don’t do that,” he said, “Lana…please don’t do that.”

“Shut up.”

I licked and sucked the sheets, still warm cum coating my lips and tongue and throat. Sweet and salty with an almost buttery aftertaste. “It’s delicious,” I said, finishing my dessert and reaching back for the main course—Daniel’s incredible cock.

He gasped. “It’s sensitive,” he said.

“I’m just cleaning it off,” I told him. He was still hard, so I worked him down my throat again, sucked it, licked it sparkling as I pulled him out of me. I gently kissed his cock all over, smiling and staring into those dark eyes without breaking contact. “Yummy…”

“I think we need to do this again sometime. I mean, we should definitely do this again.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Excuse me, ya big,  beautiful man…I’m not finished with you. You’re not the only one who gets to get off, duh.”

He nodded, grinning. “Equal rights and all that.”

On all fours, I worked my way up his body, straddled him, got on my feet, and rested each of my hands on his steely pectorals. “I’m going to ride you until I cum. I don’t want you to do anything but play with my tits, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, reaching up and taking my nipples between each of his index fingers and thumbs. They went hard under his soft touch. “Then fuck me until you cum. Though, I’m not sure why you’d clean my cock only to dirty it again.”

I shrugged and guided him inside me. “Guess I just wanted to clean it twice.”

That incredible sense of fullness came again, as he sank inch-by-inch into me. I shuddered at the pressure, leaving streaks of red across his chest as I dragged my nails across flesh. I didn’t stop sinking until his dickhead ran up against some rectal dead-end, all of him snug-as-a-bug inside the warm embrace of my asshole. He closed his eyes, groaning, kneading, and pulling madly at my nipples.

Daniel’s dick, after all these years, was finally right where it belonged.

I came down hard and fast on his cock, my fat ass clapping against his skin, using my right hand to support myself with his chest as leverage, the other hand to work my red, swollen clit. “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me,” I cried, one fuck me for every drop back down on his fat dick. Thick, hot nectar leaked out of me, sticky, clinging between his pelvis and my pussy like tiny tethers. I licked myself off my fingers and went back to rubbing my clit and vagina, working myself vigorously, his cock running through my ass like a plumber’s snake, digging into me as if trying to unclog an unruly drainpipe. Daniel panted and groaned under me, but I couldn’t let up—not until I got what I needed.

Beads of sweat fell into my eyes. I wiped my forehead but didn’t stop, only dialed up the heat, working my thighs into a hot burn.

Clap clap clap!

Almost fucking there…

Clap clap clap!

And there it was!—

An explosive burst of fluid sprayed from my pussy as I met orgasm, showering Daniel’s face and chest. I dropped to my knees, my head thudding against Daniel’s chest. He held me tight as I continued to work my clit, crying out, shaking uncontrollably under the intensity of it. I rocked there gently, speechless, until I stilled in a state of total post-orgasm relax.

Dan “the fucking” Man had done me in.

There was no going back to life before tonight. What Daniel had, I needed more of. Again and again. My bear man and his bear cock…I knew that I loved him then, that no other man would ever do. And none of my stupid toys for that matter. Daniel was the real deal, and he was mine.

Right? I mean, we fucked and that meant something. Or would that be it? Would he go back to Pittsburg, back home to his millions and his mansion and his hookups.

“Come with me,” Daniel said.

I looked up at him. “Where?”

“Break the lease here and come back to Pittsburg.”

“You’re stu—”

He kissed me hard, biting my lip as he pulled away. “I won’t leave without you,” he said. “We’ll pack your things tomorrow, throw away what you don’t need, take what we can. Fuck it, we could throw it all away and I could buy it for you again. Let’s just go. Leave it all behind.”

“You’re not my boyfriend,” I told him. “You’re not my man.”

He laughed. “You are my girlfriend. Somehow…I think you’ve always been.”

I felt a flush of hot warmth in my stomach. It rose to my chest, and flooded my face and head. “I’m your girlfriend…?”

“Yeah. And one day, my wife.”

I thought for a moment then said, “What will we do there? What will life look like?”

“I’ll work and come home to you every night. We’ll live together and watch movies and vacation in Maui. You don’t even have to cook—I get those premade meals from a food delivery service. All you have to do is be…Just be there with me.”

“I love cooking,” I said.

“Then cook. Just come with me.”

“What?” I said. “And have to watch that Blade bullshit every night?”

We laughed and I hugged him tight. I didn’t tell him then, but I knew I would follow him anywhere he asked me to go. I knew that Daniel was the first and last man I would ever be with, that he would have me completely, all of me. My life, my ass, my pussy, my love, my kids, my life.

No stone on the path of our lives unturned.

Me, entirely.