Chapter 48: Two Aspirin In the Morning
So, the thing is,
Tim reads, a lot. This was especially true back around 2002 when he
didn't have much of a social life and he was still plotting potential
first novels. And yes, he likes to read sexy, smutty stuff. But no, he doesn't read guy on guy smut; it doesn't do
anything for him. But over the years trios have been getting more play,
and some of them have involved two guys, and sometimes the girl isn't in
the middle. And if he's following a story, he's not just going to stop
reading because two of the guys are playing with each other.
Though he will start skimming.
But even skimming certain... ideas... wandered into his head, and he began to think that some exploration of this whole prostate thing might be in order.
And, well, he liked what he found. Good things, many, many good things.
But like most of the things he really liked, he was fairly sure this would be something he could do for himself for a special treat now and again, and that would be it.
Pegging, (or bend over boyfriend, which is a term he hates) as he learned it was called, tends to go along with a sphere of Femdom he doesn't much like. He's not into pain, doesn't like humiliation, and would prefer no one ever call him a filthy slut while more or less raping him, even if it is a game.
But having a beautiful woman tie him up and respectfully bugger the ever living daylights out of him, while, say, blowing him, (or teabagging apparently) that hits just about all of his being done to fantasies in one sweep.
So, maybe it was his subconscious trying to get this set up in real life. Maybe just his innate trust in Abby. But three weeks after they started dating again, when they were going through his toys, looking for something for the weekend, he didn't hide the butt plug.
She picked it up,—and well, if you know much about male anatomy, it's pretty obvious that it wasn't designed for use on a girl—looked at him curiously, and said, "You have one of these?"
He looked her straight in the eye, hoping this wouldn't freak her out, and said, "I like them. They feel good."
She smiled and said, "Cool. You'll have to show me how you like it."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"It's not weird?"
"Does it get you off?"
"Oh, God, yeah."
"Then who cares?" She stopped and thought for a moment, her gaze shifting to a different flavor of curious, like an idea that had literally never occurred to her before had just wandered into her mind. "You aren't bi, are you?"
"No." He shook his head. "I like girls, just girls. I just like that, too."
"Okay. Just, straight guys don't usually know about stuff like this." She seemed to realize how that might have sounded and quickly added. "I mean, I'm not calling you a liar. Just it's not a problem if you are—"
"But I'm not." And he's not. At all. He can never remember if 1 or 5 is completely straight on the Kinsey Scale, but whichever it is, he's there. The only way a guy is getting anywhere near Tim's prostate is if that guy has an MD from a damn good medical school.
That weekend he did show her what he did with it, and she tried a few variations on that theme, and he found out that tied up, spun out, and anal meant he'd get off so hard he'd spend several minutes after shaking. Which actually scared both of them, but a bit more reading suggested it was, well, not exactly normal, but not wildly uncommon, either.
But, with all that, from the fantasy stage to yesterday, the idea of doing it to someone else just hadn't hit him. He's certainly read about that too, and he's all in favor of hotter and tighter, but, even after a lot of prep, slowly, and with a lot of lube, he often finds the insertion part pretty uncomfortable, so he didn't see any reason why he'd want to do it to a woman.
But Abby wants to do it.
That is one of the first thoughts to hit him as he wakes, along with What the hell did I do to my left arm? Damn that hurts! Oh yeah. Hmmm... Bed's still under warranty. Can you possibly imagine explaining why you need it fixed? No. New bed then? Guess so.
Abby's still sleeping, so he gets up slowly, untangling himself from her and heads to the bathroom. A hot shower sounds like an excellent idea right now. She might have mopped the semen off of him, but he's still crusty with sweat, sticky from dried lube, and sore all over.
He reaches for his toothbrush with his left hand, and rapidly decides he'll be babying that arm today, if not longer. It's bizarre how doing something with your non-dominant hand is so ridiculously different from doing it with your dominant hand. Tooth brushing isn't difficult, but since he's using his right hand he's actually got to think about how to do it.
Brushing his teeth, he spends a moment really looking at himself. There's a stiff and spiky swath in his hair. Abby was right, that is definitely going to need to be washed. His hair is dry enough that most mornings it just gets a rinse, but today is going to be a shampoo day. His right wrist, the one she had cuffed, has a black bruise from where he was pulling on it, the left, from the rope, has a purple-blue one. And while his left shoulder isn't red, it does look a little swollen.
Well and truly fucked. He smiles a little at that, finds the aspirin, dry swallows it, and gets into the shower.
Two aspirin and hot water helps with being sore. He might not have dislocated that shoulder, but he's certainly sprained it. Explaining how he hurt himself isn't anything he's relishing for Monday. If they had done this three weekends ago he could have blamed it on the move, but they're all settled in now, so...
He can think of a good lie later.
He soaps up, right-handed, which is a little awkward because he's actually got to think about that, too, and makes sure he's gotten all the lube off. He notices that bit of him is sore, too. Not as bad as his shoulder, but he can feel what he was doing last night there, too. And, since Tim is familiar with the gate theory of pain (you only really feel whatever it is that hurts worst) he's wondering if his body just isn't sending him all of the sensations it could.
"Wouldn't you like to be the one doing it?" He remembers her asking him that while he washes himself off, very gently.
The vibrator is slim, about two inches around. And while he's well aware his dick isn't going to set any size records, it's still at least twice that size. Abby might not be tiny, but she's still smaller than he is...
Well, he doesn't have to use his dick. He's got fingers, and the vibrator, and a few other toys that would work. Though, "Wouldn't you like to be the one doing it?" seems to indicate that she's expecting him to use his dick.
She slips into the shower behind him, and rests her head on his back.
"Good morning."
"Hi," he says, reaching behind with his right hand to squeeze hers.
"You were looking pretty pensive there. What's up?"
"Pretty sure I sprained my shoulder when I broke the bed."
"Ow. Okay, mental note, don't spin you out quite that long."
"Nah, that part was fine. I think the bed breaking was the problem. You can pull pretty hard on something without hurting yourself, but if it finally gives, you can end up hurt."
"Still, don't want you getting hurt."
"Yeah, I was just thinking about that." He turns to face her, and turns them so she's in the water. "Have you ever had anal sex before?"
"Nope."
He's pretty surprised by that. "And you want me to do it with you?" He'd get her wanting to do it with him if she'd done it before and liked it, but if she's never done it, that sounds to him like something she's just not all that interested in.
She rubs up against him, looking up into his eyes. She certainly looks interested. "Yes."
"I'm afraid I'll hurt you."
"If it hurts, we'll stop."
"Endorphins lower your ability to feel pain." He shows her his wrists, and she kisses them gently. "I'm sore as hell this morning, and I certainly wasn't last night."
"Was last night worth it?"
He doesn't have to think about it. Given the option the only thing he'd change is using an extra rope or two to make sure the bedpost stayed attached to the rest of the headboard. "Yes."
Her look says it all.
"I'll do some research."
Next
Though he will start skimming.
But even skimming certain... ideas... wandered into his head, and he began to think that some exploration of this whole prostate thing might be in order.
And, well, he liked what he found. Good things, many, many good things.
But like most of the things he really liked, he was fairly sure this would be something he could do for himself for a special treat now and again, and that would be it.
Pegging, (or bend over boyfriend, which is a term he hates) as he learned it was called, tends to go along with a sphere of Femdom he doesn't much like. He's not into pain, doesn't like humiliation, and would prefer no one ever call him a filthy slut while more or less raping him, even if it is a game.
But having a beautiful woman tie him up and respectfully bugger the ever living daylights out of him, while, say, blowing him, (or teabagging apparently) that hits just about all of his being done to fantasies in one sweep.
So, maybe it was his subconscious trying to get this set up in real life. Maybe just his innate trust in Abby. But three weeks after they started dating again, when they were going through his toys, looking for something for the weekend, he didn't hide the butt plug.
She picked it up,—and well, if you know much about male anatomy, it's pretty obvious that it wasn't designed for use on a girl—looked at him curiously, and said, "You have one of these?"
He looked her straight in the eye, hoping this wouldn't freak her out, and said, "I like them. They feel good."
She smiled and said, "Cool. You'll have to show me how you like it."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"It's not weird?"
"Does it get you off?"
"Oh, God, yeah."
"Then who cares?" She stopped and thought for a moment, her gaze shifting to a different flavor of curious, like an idea that had literally never occurred to her before had just wandered into her mind. "You aren't bi, are you?"
"No." He shook his head. "I like girls, just girls. I just like that, too."
"Okay. Just, straight guys don't usually know about stuff like this." She seemed to realize how that might have sounded and quickly added. "I mean, I'm not calling you a liar. Just it's not a problem if you are—"
"But I'm not." And he's not. At all. He can never remember if 1 or 5 is completely straight on the Kinsey Scale, but whichever it is, he's there. The only way a guy is getting anywhere near Tim's prostate is if that guy has an MD from a damn good medical school.
That weekend he did show her what he did with it, and she tried a few variations on that theme, and he found out that tied up, spun out, and anal meant he'd get off so hard he'd spend several minutes after shaking. Which actually scared both of them, but a bit more reading suggested it was, well, not exactly normal, but not wildly uncommon, either.
But, with all that, from the fantasy stage to yesterday, the idea of doing it to someone else just hadn't hit him. He's certainly read about that too, and he's all in favor of hotter and tighter, but, even after a lot of prep, slowly, and with a lot of lube, he often finds the insertion part pretty uncomfortable, so he didn't see any reason why he'd want to do it to a woman.
But Abby wants to do it.
That is one of the first thoughts to hit him as he wakes, along with What the hell did I do to my left arm? Damn that hurts! Oh yeah. Hmmm... Bed's still under warranty. Can you possibly imagine explaining why you need it fixed? No. New bed then? Guess so.
Abby's still sleeping, so he gets up slowly, untangling himself from her and heads to the bathroom. A hot shower sounds like an excellent idea right now. She might have mopped the semen off of him, but he's still crusty with sweat, sticky from dried lube, and sore all over.
He reaches for his toothbrush with his left hand, and rapidly decides he'll be babying that arm today, if not longer. It's bizarre how doing something with your non-dominant hand is so ridiculously different from doing it with your dominant hand. Tooth brushing isn't difficult, but since he's using his right hand he's actually got to think about how to do it.
Brushing his teeth, he spends a moment really looking at himself. There's a stiff and spiky swath in his hair. Abby was right, that is definitely going to need to be washed. His hair is dry enough that most mornings it just gets a rinse, but today is going to be a shampoo day. His right wrist, the one she had cuffed, has a black bruise from where he was pulling on it, the left, from the rope, has a purple-blue one. And while his left shoulder isn't red, it does look a little swollen.
Well and truly fucked. He smiles a little at that, finds the aspirin, dry swallows it, and gets into the shower.
Two aspirin and hot water helps with being sore. He might not have dislocated that shoulder, but he's certainly sprained it. Explaining how he hurt himself isn't anything he's relishing for Monday. If they had done this three weekends ago he could have blamed it on the move, but they're all settled in now, so...
He can think of a good lie later.
He soaps up, right-handed, which is a little awkward because he's actually got to think about that, too, and makes sure he's gotten all the lube off. He notices that bit of him is sore, too. Not as bad as his shoulder, but he can feel what he was doing last night there, too. And, since Tim is familiar with the gate theory of pain (you only really feel whatever it is that hurts worst) he's wondering if his body just isn't sending him all of the sensations it could.
"Wouldn't you like to be the one doing it?" He remembers her asking him that while he washes himself off, very gently.
The vibrator is slim, about two inches around. And while he's well aware his dick isn't going to set any size records, it's still at least twice that size. Abby might not be tiny, but she's still smaller than he is...
Well, he doesn't have to use his dick. He's got fingers, and the vibrator, and a few other toys that would work. Though, "Wouldn't you like to be the one doing it?" seems to indicate that she's expecting him to use his dick.
She slips into the shower behind him, and rests her head on his back.
"Good morning."
"Hi," he says, reaching behind with his right hand to squeeze hers.
"You were looking pretty pensive there. What's up?"
"Pretty sure I sprained my shoulder when I broke the bed."
"Ow. Okay, mental note, don't spin you out quite that long."
"Nah, that part was fine. I think the bed breaking was the problem. You can pull pretty hard on something without hurting yourself, but if it finally gives, you can end up hurt."
"Still, don't want you getting hurt."
"Yeah, I was just thinking about that." He turns to face her, and turns them so she's in the water. "Have you ever had anal sex before?"
"Nope."
He's pretty surprised by that. "And you want me to do it with you?" He'd get her wanting to do it with him if she'd done it before and liked it, but if she's never done it, that sounds to him like something she's just not all that interested in.
She rubs up against him, looking up into his eyes. She certainly looks interested. "Yes."
"I'm afraid I'll hurt you."
"If it hurts, we'll stop."
"Endorphins lower your ability to feel pain." He shows her his wrists, and she kisses them gently. "I'm sore as hell this morning, and I certainly wasn't last night."
"Was last night worth it?"
He doesn't have to think about it. Given the option the only thing he'd change is using an extra rope or two to make sure the bedpost stayed attached to the rest of the headboard. "Yes."
Her look says it all.
"I'll do some research."
Next
No comments:
Post a Comment