The Anal Adoration

I didn't hear him enter, but I sensed his presence. Closing my eyes, I listened as he stood watching me. I imagined the thoughts running through his mind as he looked across to where I waited, crouched low against the bed, bottom raised high in the air like a stretching animal, like a cat waiting to pounce. Wearing only my mask, bra and suspender stockings, I was naked where it mattered. My vagina displayed for his approval, my anus waiting and ready. Take me, I'm yours, I prayed. I imagined that the breeze from the open window was his cool breath on my skin. My ice cold lover. Still, he waited and watched. The anticipation was pure agony and pleasure.

Three days earlier I had thrown some clothes into the Aston Martin and left my life in a cloud of summer dust. The engine roared my frustration out across the countryside as I tore my way southward. I didn't leave a note. I didn't care. Kids, husband, none of it mattered. I needed some time away, needed to vent and live as a woman again. The hotel was expensive but perfect, a luxurious getaway, spa treatments and champagne.

But more than that, it was within easy reach of a truck stop diner with greasy food and dirty coffee.

"Is everything to your satisfaction?"

I grinned and swayed my hips, shifting my bottom back and forth. He didn't reply, and a little thrill went up my spine. I heard the clink of ice as he lifted the glass I had left for him. Dutch courage, perhaps, or just a little aperitif while he surveyed the toys I had selected. In either case, it was only a moment before I heard him approaching the bed.

I tensed and waited and then felt his fingers lightly brush my buttocks. I mewled, but he remained as silent as ever. I couldn't even hear him breathing. I stayed in position as his hands moved across my bottom, back and forth, sending shivers through my body and making my breath come in fits. Then I gasped as his fingers settled into the cleft of my buttocks. I waited for them to move down and stroke my sex, but they stayed still.

"Please," I said, my voice high and breathy. "Please don't be gentle."

Did he chuckle, just a little, as he lifted his hand away? My body relaxed, deflated, and I breathed a sigh. I heard him cross the room as I closed my eyes and gulped air.

I had known he was the one as soon as I saw him. Young, certainly, but his face was hard like he'd seen too much of life already. He climbed out of his cab and said nothing to the other drivers as he walked past them into the diner, jeans and skin dirty with engine grease. I watched him through binoculars, parked across the road where the car would be less conspicuous. He sat at a table, alone, and waited to be served. I knew he was the one.

What did he think, I wondered when he found the envelope slipped under the wiper blade of his truck? Did he look around, puzzled, trying to find the person who'd put it there? I was long gone by then, standing under the shower in my hotel room, revelling in the hot jet that prickled my skin. Did he puzzle it over in his mind as he opened the envelope to find a keycard and a room number? Did he even have a moment of doubt?

"You want this," he said, making me jump. His voice was deep, a bear's low growl.

"Yes," I said. "Yes. Take me."

He chuckled. "Poor little rich girl."

My stomach tensed as I heard the creak of leather scrunching together. The whip. I resisted the urge to lower my bottom, kept it presented for him as he sauntered closer, his footsteps deliberate and soft. I gasped at the sensation as a multitude of tiny tips were drawn up over my pussy, tickling and stimulating the sensitive nerve endings. I wanted to squirm, but I held my ground even as one of the tendrils found its way inside my anus to lick against the wall before being dragged out and away.

I could almost hear my own heartbeat. My breaths came in gasps, my chest rising and falling against the soft bedclothes. I waited. He didn't make a sound. My mind raced with thoughts. What was he waiting for? Why didn't he just –

The jolt of pain made me yelp with lust. It was a wonder I didn't squirt right then as the whip drew burning lines across my bottom. I grinned and licked my lips.

"Again," I said, but the second time came too quick, forcing me to flinch. I laughed and gasped, listening to his retreating footsteps as he returned to the table. Somehow I knew what would be next. I raised my bottom further, opening up my anus, ready for the plug.

Earlier that same day I had bought it. A little present for myself. Something new, something I'd never dreamed of before. Anal play had never been a feature of my marriage to Dominic. I'd never even considered it. Yet, browsing the dildos and vibrators, my eyes settled on the plug and I couldn't get the idea out of my head. What would it feel like? Would I enjoy it?

Taking it out of the little drawstring bag back at the hotel, I'd felt incredibly naughty. I masturbated with it first, enjoying the feel of a new shape inside me. Then I tried it inside my anus and the sensation made my jaw drop open. I let it slide in and out, in and out, and I knew that I wanted him to use it. Yes, he would know what to do.

I flinched as he stroked the tip against my bottom, teasing me with it, making me wait. I raised my head and turned, but could only see him from the corner of my eye. I waited on a knife-edge, my jaw quivering with anticipation as he drew a wide circle around my bottom.

"Do it," I begged, but he ignored me, not even bothering to answer.

He stroked the plug against my pussy, parting the lips but not pushing it inside. He pressed it against my hole, but then withdrew it. I heard the wet, sticky sound of him licking it, making it ready, and then gasped as it pushed its way inside. I expected him to pull it back out, readied myself for it, but he left it there. The sensation was a strange mix of slight discomfort and sensual bliss. The contrast only served to heighten my pleasure as he began to rub my pussy with the palm of his hand.

"You're very damp," he said.

"I want you."

"Not yet."

He grabbed the backs of my legs as he leaned down to lick my pussy, going slowly upwards towards my bottom. His tongue parted my lips as the plug had done only moments before, stimulating my clitoris and making me want him more. His hands moved to my buttocks as he continued to lick, caressing me through the soft fabric of my stockings.

I felt the bed move as he climbed onto it, his hand never leaving my skin, the plug remaining in place. Then without warning, his finger was entering my vagina and I mewled again with pleasure at the double penetration.

"Don't stop," I said.

He laughed and his finger slid back and forth inside me. He was so cold, so disconnected, that what happened next came as a shock. I felt his lips against my buttock and shivered as he kissed the skin.

"You're beautiful," he said.

"I want you."

I rolled over slowly, the plug moving inside me, changing the experience but no less pleasurable. Finally, I saw him, my trucker. He was dressed in torn jeans and nothing else, his strong torso exposed, his eyes hungry. I smiled at him and he lay down beside me, pressed against my back. He moved his hand between my legs and massaged me until he slipped his fingers inside. I gasped and laughed, and he grinned, then he leaned forward and kissed me, and I kissed him back, my mouth going wide as he caressed my vagina. He smelled of sweat and grease, pungent in the sweetly fragranced room.

"Your cock," I whispered, and finally I was in control.

He shifted to obey, unbuttoning his jeans eagerly and slipping them down, still lying beside me, not moving to place himself between my legs. He let his penis fall free and grabbed it, then rubbed the head against my pussy. He continued until it started to turn red with excitement, then slipped it inside me. I felt it moving in and out, and I turned my head to kiss him as he fucked me, the plug still sitting inside, making each thrust that much more.

"Now it's my turn," I said and pulled away to force him back onto the bed.

His cock was long and I savoured the view of it standing proud and tall before I bent to suck it. I let it slide in and out of my mouth, gently holding it with my lips until he started to moan. I didn't stop. I lapped at the underside of his penis and sucked hard against the head until I let it go with a kiss that made him grunt.

I laughed and stroked the head with a fingertip. "I think you deserve to get it wet. You've been a very bad boy."

Swinging my leg up and over him, I shifted around to straddle him, pushing my breasts up close to his face. Then I leaned back and felt his penis enter my vagina, making me gasp with ecstasy as it slid inside, pressing against the back wall where the plug still remained, the sensation almost too much to bear. I shivered and felt the sweat breaking out on my skin, but kept rubbing myself up and down his shaft as I listened to him grunt as he fought the urge to cum.

I shouted without words, just the wild noises of pleasure. I had no more regard for the open window than a forest creature has for the whisper of the wind through the trees. In that moment, sex was everything. Pure pleasure like the stab of pins.

He gulped and leaned in close to my ear. "Why the mask?"

I'd brought it with me when I jumped into the Aston Martin. There was nothing random about my decision to leave, no mindless need to get away. I knew what I was doing, how I planned to spend my time. Though the hotel was new and the trucker a complete stranger, it wasn't the first time I had run away to find pleasure in the arms of another man.

The mask makes me feel safer, because there is always the vague possibility that I might be recognised. I'm no celebrity, nor am I royalty or the wife of a notorious businessman, but nevertheless you'll find my face occasionally in the background of a photograph in a newspaper article. There I'll be, smiling and chatting behind while somebody far more famous is snapped leaving some venue with a new lover.

"Take it off," I said. "Look at me."

I clenched my stomach, wondering what he would do if he recognised me. I told myself that I could just deny it. Nobody would ever believe him. But then again what if I admitted it? What would people say? He pulled the ribbon slowly and the mask fell away, but there was no look of recognition on his face. Just a smile and a laugh as I sat astride him.

"What are you thinking?" I asked.

"That the plug has had all the fun."

He was strong, turning me over in a single movement so that I lay prone. Gently he slid the plug out of my anus, the sensation every bit as stimulating as it had been on the way in. Then he replaced it with his cock. I gasped as it pushed inside, opening me wider than the plug had done, feeling tight and firm. Then I turned my head and kissed him as he slid back and forth, tasting the salt of his sweat and the perfume of my own lipstick.

Finally he whispered in my ear, "I'm close."

"Cum on me," I said.

He leaned back, pulling himself out of me, and I watched as he masturbated. Then I raised my bottom in the air one last time to catch the string of semen as it shot out. He moaned and I laughed, enjoying the sensation of hot, wet fluid over my skin.

***

I left him to sleep in my bed when I headed downstairs to the bar. I sipped a gin and tonic and waited to be found. I didn't have to wait long. Although the man was new, he was easily recognisable by the way he was dressed. The long coat in summer, the boots. I joined him at the bar and bought him a drink.

"Tell Dominic I'll be home tomorrow," I said.

"Your husband said to take your time. Get it out of your system."

"I'm done," I said, and he nodded.

He stayed to finish his drink, not saying a word, and then he stood and walked away. When I got back to my room, the trucker was gone.

I left the window open, lay down, and fell into a deep, sound sleep.

THE END