World Writer
Chapter 12 — The Threshold
Two days ed. The ambiguous conversation about full on anal sex hung between them like a door left ajar—neither of them pushing it open, neither of them closing it. Greg found himself thinking about it at odd moments, the weight of her words. He would be getting something that most men never did. Would it come at a cost he was unwilling to pay?
Friday he’d barely worked. He’d caught himself staring at spreadsheets while his mind ran the kitchen scene on a loop—the way she’d said “Show me,” the way she’d pulled herself open for him. And underneath it, the new thing. The thing she’d said in the dark: I want to be filled.
He hadn’t been able to look at her across the dinner table without his thoughts going somewhere he couldn’t follow. She’d caught him watching and smiled, slow and knowing, and said nothing.
But what came first was simpler. And it came from her.
Saturday evening, they were in the living room, a movie playing unwatched on the television. He was in a loose pair of shorts and a t shirt. She was back in his old dress shirt and nothing else. Toni was curled against his side, her hand resting on his thigh, her fingers tracing idle patterns. She’d been quiet all evening, not distant, but thoughtful—like she was working up to something.
She sat up and swung a leg over his lap, straddling him. Her hands rested on his shoulders, and she looked down at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read.
“I want to try something,” she said. “But I need you to let me lead.”
His hands found her hips. “Okay.”
“I want you inside me. From behind.” She leaned in and kissed him, soft and slow. “But I want something else too.”
His breath caught. “Toni, whatever you want. I’m in”
“I’ve been thinking about it for two days. Ever since you put your tongue there. Ever since I felt your finger.” She pressed her forehead to his. “I want to feel you in multiple places. I want to feel full”
His pulse picked up. He’d imagined this—dreamed it, even, in the dark hours when he’d let himself think about what his body was capable of. But hearing her say it, in her voice, with her eyes on his, was something else entirely.
“I want that too,” he said. “More than I know how to say.”
He pulled her closer, his hands sliding up her back. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” She kissed him again, deeper. “But I want to take my time. And I want to taste you first.”
Her hand slid up the leg opening of the shorts and gripped him. She held him in her hand for a moment, just looking at him, her thumb tracing the vein along the underside. “You have no idea what you do to me,” she said. “The things I think about when I look at you now.”
“Tell me.”
She was silent for a moment as she dismounted him and knelt on the floor between his knees. Her hand never left his cock.
“When I’m at the grocery store. When I’m folding laundry.” She leaned in and pressed her lips to the head of his cock, a soft, deliberate kiss. “I think about getting you in my mouth. About how it feels when you finally let go.”
Her hands worked his shorts down, he lifted his ass and they disappeared in a flash. His cock popped out as they ed—already hard, the tip glistening—and she took him in her mouth without hesitation.
He let his head fall back, his hand gripped her hair. She worked him deeply, her throat opening for him, taking him farther than she had before. The physical limits the pencil had shifted meant she could take all of him now, and she did—her nose pressed against his pelvis, her throat convulsing around the head of his cock.
She worked him with her throat, her tongue stroking along the length of him, and when she pulled off she was grinning, spit-slick and proud. “Look at me. I can take all of you now. Isn’t that something?”
“It’s everything.”
She pulled off, gasping, and looked up at him with watery eyes. “You taste so good.”
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” he said.
“Then I’ll say it more.” She stroked him slowly, her fingers slick with spit. “I want to taste you every day. I want to wake up wanting it.”
She lowered her mouth again, but this time she byed his cock and went lower. She took his balls into her mouth, one then the other, sucking gently, her tongue working the skin. He groaned, his hips lifting. She released them and licked lower, her tongue trailing down the perineum, and he felt her breath hot against his asshole.
“Jesus, Toni —”
She licked him there, flat-tongued, the same way he’d licked her in the kitchen. Her tongue circled him, pressed against him, and he gripped the couch cushions and let her work. She pushed her tongue inside him as far as it would go, and the sensation—wet and insistent and impossibly intimate—made him shudder.
She worked him with her mouth, her tongue pressing and circling, and his head fell back against the couch. “God, Toni. Your damn good at that.”
“I learned from you.” She kissed the inside of his thigh. “You taught me there was nothing shameful about wanting. Now let me show you.”
She stayed there for long minutes, her mouth on him, her fingers stroking his thighs, until he was trembling and breathless.
Then she stood up and pulled him to his feet. “Bedroom. Now.”
She didn’t wait for an answer. She was already walking, her hips swinging, and he followed her like a man being led to something he’d wanted his whole life without knowing its name.
He followed her. She stripped off her clothes in the dim light, then pushed him onto the bed and climbed up after him. She crawled past him and positioned herself on her hands and knees, her back to him, her head turned to look over her shoulder.
“Fuck me,” she said. “From behind. Like you did on the counter.”
He moved behind her, his cock already aching. He lined up with her entrance and pushed inside in one slow, smooth motion. She was wet—so wet—and she moaned as he filled her, her head dropping forward.
He pushed in until he was seated to the root, and she made a sound—low and satisfied, like she’d been holding it in all day. “That’s it,” she said. “God, I missed this. I missed being full of you.”
“Two days.”
“Two days too long.” She pushed back against him, taking him deeper. “Fuck me like you mean it, Greg. I want to feel you in my bones tomorrow.”
“God, yes,” she moaned.
He fucked her slow, deep, his hands on her hips. The angle was perfect, his cock sliding into her cunt at exactly the right depth. She pushed back against him, meeting each thrust, her sounds getting louder.
“That’s it,” she said. “Right there. Right fucking there.”
She reached back and grabbed his hip, her fingers digging in. “Harder. Don’t be gentle with me. I’m not going to break.”
He drove into her harder, and she cried out, her head dropping forward, her ass bouncing against his hips. “Yes. Like that. Right there.”
He didn’t. He kept the rhythm steady, watching his cock disappear into her, watching the way her ass bounced against his hips. She was perfect like this—open and wanting and completely unguarded.
As if she had reached some point specific to her she reached back and grabbed his hip. “OK. Stop.”
He stopped immediately, his cock still buried inside her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” She pulled forward, his cock sliding out of her, and she reached for the bottle of lube on the nightstand. She’d put it there after the kitchen, a silent preparation neither of them had acknowledged until now.
“I’ve been thinking about this for two days,” she said. “Ever since the kitchen. Ever since you showed me what I was missing. I want it done right.”
She handed it to him over her shoulder. “Lube my ass.”
His hand shook as he poured the slick gel into his palm. He warmed it between his fingers, then reached forward and pressed against her asshole, circling it slowly. She gasped, her fingers gripping the sheets.
“Slow and easy,” she said as she reached between them grabbing his cock and guiding it back into her dripping cunt.
He pressed his middle finger against her, and she pushed back, taking him into both holes. Her ass clenched around his finger, tight and hot. Her pussy pulsing with each thrust. She let out a long, shaking breath.
“More,” she said again. “Give me more.”
He worked a second finger against her, stretching her slowly, and she pushed back against his hand, taking them deeper. “That’s it. I can feel you in there. I can feel how full I am.”
“More,” she said. “Give me more.”
He added a second finger, stretching her slowly, and she moaned—a low, guttural sound he’d never heard from her before. Her hips moved working fingers and cock in and out. eventually he felt her relax around him, feeling her start to push back against his hand.
“Okay,” she said. “Now fuck me in both holes like you mean it.
He pushed his fingers in to the hilt while pulling his cock out to the rim of the head. He grabbed her hip with his free hand and drove his cock in balls deep forcing the air from her lungs. He spread the finger buried in her ass so she stayed impaled on them. She moved back against him again. Forcing him deeper into both slick holes. They found their rhythm and worked together.
Three movements timed just right—his cock in her cunt, his fingers in her ass, her body rocking between them. She was a mess of sounds now, panting and moaning and gasping his name, her fingers clawing at the sheets.
“Fuck, I’m so full,” she groaned. “I love being this full. I never want to be empty again.”
She was panting hard and shaking her head back and forth, her hair flying wildly. With a grunt she reached back and pulled his cock from her sopping slit and pointed up her butt crack. She groaned out “Move your fucking fingers” while shifting her hips down to better aim and accommodate his rock hard prick.
An astonished Greg watched as the head pressed against her, slick with her juices and the remains of the lube. He pushed gently.
She cried out. Not in pain—in an animalistic desire, in the overwhelming drive to being filled somewhere new. He watched his cock push into her, inch by inch, her ass stretching to take him.
“Fuck,” she breathed. “Fuck, Greg.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. More than OK. Please go on.”
He pushed deeper, until he was fully buried in her ass, his balls sat against her warm wet slit. Her ass was tight—so much tighter than her cunt—and hot, and he had to hold himself still to keep from coming immediately. She breathed hard, her forehead pressed to the mattress, her hands fisted in the sheets.
Her ass gripped him like a fist, hot and impossibly tight, and he held himself still, his forehead pressed to her spine, breathing through the urge to come.
“Toni,” he gritted out. “You feel—”
“Yeah.” Her voice was wrecked. “I can feel how big you are in there. I can feel every inch. It’s so much. It’s so fucking good.”
“Move,” she said. “Slow. Fucking move.”
He pulled out and pushed back in, and she sobbed—a sound of pure, raw pleasure. He set a rhythm, slow and deep, watching his cock slide into her ass, watching her body take him.
“You like my cock in your ass?” he asked, his voice rough.
“I love it.” She pushed back to meet him, taking him deeper. “I love how it feels. I love that it’s you. I’m never going to get enough of this, Greg. Why did I wait?”
He reached around her and found her clit, slick and swollen. He pressed his fingers against it in rhythm with his thrusts, and her whole body started to shake.
Her whole body shuddered. “Yes. Right there. Rub my clit while you’re in my ass. Make me come on both.”
“Do it! Come for me.”
“Can’t take it! I’m going to come,” she howled. “I’m going to come on your cock in my ass!”
Her orgasm ripped through her, her body convulsing, her ass clenching around him so tight it was almost painful. He kept moving, fucking her as the waves ed, and she kept coming, her cries muffled by the mattress.
He kept moving through it, letting her ride the waves, and she kept coming, her body jerking with each pulse. “Don’t stop,” she begged. “Don’t you dare stop.”
“I won’t.” His voice was wrecked. “Never.”
When she finally went still, he stayed with her, almost holding her up himself. Still he dared not move from the heat and comforting embrace of her rectum.
“I need to come,” he said. “I need to come inside you.”
She laughed, low and breathless. “Then take it. My ass is yours. Everything I have is yours.”
Seconds ticked away, then she spoke in a low voice. “Do it.”
He moved slowly until she gathered the strength to hold herself up, there he fucked her, slowly, fully from the root to the tip of his aching cock. He slammed into her. He was desperate to cum. She had a death grip on the bedsheets as he slammed into her ass again and again. Her legs trembled as she approached another orgasm, this one solely from his cock in her ass.
“Fill me up,” she coaxed. “Greg, fill my ass with your cum.”
“Don’t hold back,” she said, her voice raw. “Give me all of it. I want to feel you come apart inside me.”
Her words undid him. His rhythm faltered, his hips stuttering against her, and he felt the surge building at the base of his spine.
His release tore through him, a guttural sound escaping him as his release poured into her, his body shuddering through wave after wave. She held out until she felt the first spasm of his juice hit her insides and then she broke. Her head flung backwards she ground back against him grunting while she came.
They collapsed beside one another, his cock popping free of her leaving a trail of spend across the back of her thigh and the bed. They lay in the dark, breathing hard, their bodies slick with sweat. She turned her head to look at him, and even in the dim light, he could see the smile on her face.
She didn’t move for a long moment, her face buried in the mattress, her body still trembling in small aftershocks. Then she turned her head and looked at him, her eyes dark and satisfied.
“I want to do that again,” she said.
He laughed, still breathless. “You’re going to kill me.”
“What a way to go.” She curled against his side, her hand on his chest. “I’m serious. I want that again. And I want more toys. We need to go shopping.”
His heart hammered. “I love that you keep saying that. Every time you do, I fall a little harder.”
She propped herself up on an elbow and looked at him. “I want everything, Greg. We have so much missed opportunity to make up for.”
He pulled her close, her head fitting into the curve of his shoulder.
For a long time neither of them spoke. Her breathing evened out against his chest, and he lay in the dark with the weight of her against him and the knowledge that the doors between them were wide open.