by Jane Westforth
(11/17/10)

She had not physically hit him, but it felt that way. It felt like she had stabbed him, actually. There was a pain in his gut, low down, dangerously close to his cock. There they had been: spooning, cuddling, practically, he with a beatific smile in the darkness, the kind of smile that can only come from coming hard in a girl's asshole, and then Pam had said it. Said it low and quiet, without any malicious hissing or petulance. Detached, sort of cool, like she was making a minor observation about her neighbor's house plants.

"You know, Harold. You're the most boring fuck of my life."

Maybe there exists some parallel dimension in which the previous sentence was somehow acceptable as a reasonable personal criticism. Harold did not inhabit such a sphere, and if he had, he had a strong suspicion he would kill himself. He felt it then, the ghost knife in his belly, and he lay stunned, his arms still holding Pam, lovely Pam, who had never before given him cause for anything but joy and a raging hard-on. Dimly, he waited for her to say more: to yell and bitch about ordinary stuff. Why aren't we engaged? When are you going to fix my light box like you said? You didn't take your socks off before you fucked me, you know I hate that. You're all promises that you can't keep, Harold. You're just a selfish prick, you know that? When are you going to get that new job, Harold? I hate your dog, Harold. You're just a little boy in a dirty old man's body, you sad sack of shit.

But these words, which would (he knew) have diffused the horrible opening statement, and would have made it a just part of litany of exaggerated abuse that she didn't really mean, did not materialize. She just lay there, silently and perfectly cruel, his arms locked, paralyzed around her. His already wilting dick shrank as if castration had been mentioned.

Her breasts cupped in his palms felt suddenly, unbearably hot, and he snatched his hands away. He rolled over away from her, curled up, and for the first time in his adult life, tears coursed down his face. Barely, he managed to keep from sobbing out loud, but his body shook with each ragged breath he drew.

Pam appeared at his shoulder. "Honey," she murmured, "I'm sorry."

He whimpered. How could she? How could she say it?

"I didn't think you'd take it so bad. It's not so awful, you know. I love you. I'm okay with the sex being boring."

That did it. He popped out of bed, although the pain in his gut made it difficult to walk. Later he would wonder if this is how menstrual cramps felt and if so, how did women survive it, month after month. He forced himself to walk normally and not limp as if he'd been kicked in the balls. He maneuvered around the room, snatching bits of clothing and throwing them on or stuffing them into his pockets. Pam sat up, resting her tits on her knees. Even then, that bitch could not stop showing off her big boobs.

For her proportions, her D cups looked enormous, too big to be God's intention, but they were real and he knew she was rather proud of them. One look in her dresser drawer devoted exclusively to bra, bustier, and corset was enough to tell him that. In public she was Ms. Cleavage 2010, but while Harold appreciated a nice pair of tits as much as the next person, he had always taken far more interest in a woman's other kind of cleavage.

With all the beauty in the world, what could compare with a smooth, round ass? A beautiful ass was like two pieces of perfection in human flesh. Even a big ass not considered pretty, one with stretch marks or pocked with cellulite, was to Harold the most beautiful sight in the world. If he was really honest with himself, Harold would admit that it need not even be a woman's ass, although for fucking he was strictly for the ladies.

Just as for the past four months, he had been strictly for fucking Pam. But now, sitting in his Prius, softly patting the spot where the ghost knife had gone in and gently cradling his cock, he seriously wondered if he'd ever fuck again.

He thought back. What had been so wrong with the sex? She had never complained before. He loved it. He thought she did, too. Although, now, the more he thought about it, it did seem that over the weeks, Pam had gotten less and less into it. A bit at a time, it seemed. Not so you'd notice at first, but he imagined now that each month she had been a little less responsive, a little stiffer underneath his hand, a little more mechanical in her movements, so that in the end it was mere tolerance.

Shame burned his cheeks, and his hands shook as he started the car and drove away. He felt cold all over. He could barely see the road, and thought that he probably shouldn't be driving. At least I won't fail a breathalyzer, he thought, and pressed his foot to the accelerator.

Honest, your Honor, I don't know what came over me. My girlfriend just called me a boring fuck and the next thing I knew I had wrapped my car around the WW I memorial. I'm sorry about the damages...

Miraculously, he arrived home unscathed. He parked and staggered into the building. In the elevator, he leaned against the wall in sheer exhaustion. Once inside the door, he leaned against it to shut it, heard the ticking sound of Mikey's nails on the floorboards as his dog came to greet him, and then everything was gone.

"Harold? Come on, Harold wake up." A sharp poke in the shoulder, and his eyes fluttered open. He squinted up, his eyes focusing slowly. A woman was crouched over him, long dark hair framing a beautiful, fragile-looking face. "Marlene?" he croaked.

"Can you walk?" she asked gently.

"I guess."

"Come on." She straightened and lowered a hand to him. He grasped it, heaved himself up and allowed Marlene told steer him into the living room and deposit him carefully on the couch. She fetched him a glass of water and sat beside him while he drank it gratefully.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I got up this morning and saw your keys in your door. I knocked. No one answered. I opened the door to see if you were alright and I found you lying in the front hallway. You scared the shit out of me. I thought you had had a heart attack."

"I did," he murmured. "Sort of."

It was Marlene's turn to ask "What happened?" but she didn't. She just sat, leaning forward, pale, freckled hands folded one on top of the other. She was a big woman, tall and bisected by a long, tapered waist. Her flat stomach had shadowy definition and her nice tits were in almost perfect proportion to her enormous, round ass. Her legs were strong and shapely, a swimmer's legs. She sat with her back straight but not stiff. She made Harold think of a big Siamese cat, the way she sat almost perched on the chair opposite him: still, but pliant and sleepily serene.

Marlene had been his neighbor for six years. In the third year, they had become lovers. Harold remembered that time fondly. Marlene came off in public as a shy, retiring creature, like a little old lady in a gorgeous, nubile body. But behind drawn curtains, she was a total freak. Up for anything, and for Harold of course that meant a lot of ass play. He never had to ask if it was okay. Usually he just muttered, "Turn around" and Marlene would flip over exposing her fine, big bottom for his enjoyment. He used to like to just stare at it sometimes, gently stroking his cock while he thought about everything that he was going to do to it, before he shot his load. He would massage the cheeks like kneading two loaves of bread. He would spread them and gaze at the lovely, little raspberry that was her asshole. He would lick that hole, lightly and teasingly. This would leave Marlene gasping, moaning, and humping the air in appeal. This, for Harold, was truly delightful, and he liked to stretch this time by nonchalantly selecting a bottle of lube from the many that she kept by her bed. "Hmm," he would say, as if choosing wine at a restaurant. "Do I feel like cherry tonight?"

Marlene would groan, and Harold, holding his iron-hard dick in one hand, would finally choose a bottle and squirt a generous blob against her asshole, the cold sending violent shudders through Marlene's body. Harold thought of this reaction as an "assgasm." When applying the lube to his cock, he usually warmed it in his hands for a few seconds. Then he'd apply it slowly, enjoying the sure strokes of his own hand until Marlene was practically screaming, "Fuck me, Harold. Fuck me in the ass. Do it."

There are of course many ways of fucking an ass, depending on what the ass in question could take. Marlene's ass was of that optimal variety that is neither too tight nor too loose and shaped so that she could easily take a cock from almost any angle. Knowing that it wouldn't hurt her, Harold liked to ram it in, hard and fast. If he was fucking her from behind, his hands would fasten like vises on her hips and he'd pump her mercilessly. If she were spread eagle on her back beneath him, with her red raspberry raised to him, he'd seize her ankles and force them down to the mattress. This too, Marlene could easily handle. Teeth gritted, growling, Harold fucked her ass as hard as he could. Fucked her, she once said, like he was trying to kill her ass. His cock worked in and out of that sweet, tight hole like a piston.

Once, when he fucked her doggy style, he leaned down and crooned in her ear, "You like that? Huh? You like getting fucked hard in the ass? Is this what you want? You want a hard cock working your asshole?"

In response, Marlene threw her ass back on his dick, fucking him as hard as he was fucking her.

Harold was surprised, but quickly adjusted. He straightened up, braced his legs and held still, enjoying this new game. Marlene rode back on his cock, not pulling away much, just bouncing against his body, creating a rhythm of short, fast strokes. Marlene whimpered delightedly with each backward thrust so that Harold knew she was going to come. His hands loosened their grip on her hips and he whispered, "Yeah, come, baby. Come with your ass full of my dick. Come hard for me, baby. Let me feel it. Let me feel you coming on my dick." And he reached around her body; his finger found her wet clit and gently rubbed.

Marlene screamed once and then she was shaking all over, every inch of her body came at the same time, and with Harold's finger still on her clit, her pussy gushed that precious sweet fluid, female ejaculate, into his cupped hand. As Marlene quivered and moaned against him, Harold brought his dripping hand to his face. He had never been with a woman who had squirted before, and he gingerly sniffed his palm. He licked it, and the honeysuckle flavor of it put him instantly over the edge. He grabbed her hips as his own hips suddenly shook with the force of his ecstasy and he came deep in her ass, while her body still shook with the power of her own climax.

That had been three years ago. Harold had no memory of why, or even how, it had ended between them. They had never dated. One day, they were fucking. The next day they weren't. Harold couldn't remember being very upset that it had ended, but now he longed for Marlene. She had been, he knew now, the best fuck of his life, and suddenly it seemed desperately important that he be allowed back into her perfect asshole.

Harold realized that she was waiting for him to say something. He suddenly remembered Pam, and his face flushed with humiliation. Marlene saw it and inclined her head slightly in unpatronizing sympathy.

"Marlene," Harold heard himself asking, "What happened between us? I mean, it was great, wasn't it? So, why did it stop?"

Marlene's gaze was steady, betraying nothing. Her voice was gentle. "Well, I don't know, Harold. I thought we both got bored."

At another time, it might not have been so bad. But after the Night of the Living Pam, Harold had no choice but to curl up in a pathetic ball and groan. Boring! How can they say that? Don't they know how utterly mean they sound?

Marlene put a hand on his shoulder. "Harold, what happened?"

And he told her, like a little kid telling Mommy about the bully at school who had called him names. He told her about the ghost knife and his feeling like he'd never get hard ever again. He told her about the drive home and getting through the door and then everything going black. He was close to weeping again by the time he was done, and his voice had risen to a girly pitch.

"Am I really boring, Marlene? Am I a boring fuck?"

Marlene did not answer right away and this was enough to earn fresh groans from Harold. When this had subsided, she leaned down so that she almost whispering in his ear. "You're not boring, Harold, because you're passionate and you last like a marathon runner and you've got a huge, beautiful cock."

Harold perked up a bit at this but did not raise his head.

Marlene continued, "You love to make your partner come, and that's rarer than you might realize. You're rough by inclination, but not out of ego or a need to be brutal. You can be gentle and teasing. You're great at fucking."

There was a long pause. Harold tensed, waiting for the phrase "But, Harold" that would surely kill his beloved chubby forever.

"But, Harold," Marlene said finally, "you're too much of an ass man."

Harold's body snapped up, and he shook his head as if he had just heard something absolutely impossible. He held up his hands to fend off the insanity she was uttering. When he answered her, it was in a feeble stutter. "What-what-what-what are you talking about? Wh-what is that? What is "too much" of an ass man? What is that about?"

Marlene looked at him patiently. "What I mean is: you're so into what it is that you like, namely licking and fucking assholes, that you don't really do anything else. And after a time, as good as that feels, it gets boring. You have to vary what you do, or it becomes meaningless. Even heaven can get boring, you know?"

"No," said Harold adamantly. "I don't know. I've never been bored with it."

"You never stayed with anyone long enough, but if you did, it would get boring eventually. For Pam, she's already reached the point where it's just too predictable. I mean, Harold, when's the last time you ate her pussy?"

Harold blinked.

Marlene raised an eyebrow, "Have you ever eaten her pussy?"

Harold blushed.

"Oh, Harold."

"She never asked me to. She always seemed perfectly happy with what I was doing."

"I'm sure she was perfectly happy with what you were doing, Harry. I remember how good you are at what you do. But it's like I said, it's all that you do. You've got to change things up. Do something else."

He hung his head. "I don't know that I can," he admitted.

"Of course, you can," Marlene rejoined. "You can be just as good at other stuff."

Harold shook his head. "I don't think so. I think you're right, Marlene. I think I've been strictly about ass. I don't know that I can change."

Marlene cocked her head at him, a new, keen expression on her face. "Did you like fucking me, Harold?"

"You were the best I ever had," he murmured truthfully, though inside he squirmed with the corniness of what he had just said.

"Do you trust me?"

Harold hesitated. "What do you mean?"

Marlene smiled warmly, but the intense look in her eyes had not left. "I think I can help you, Harold. If you'll trust me."

Harold nodded, oblivious to what she meant.

Marlene stood and kissed his forehead. "Go get some rest," she said. "Tonight, you're going to cook me dinner and then I'm going to teach you some new games." She moved to the door to let herself out, turning once to say, "Nothing too heavy. No cream sauces or rich desserts. I'm losing weight."

"Not too much, I hope," Harold managed to say genuinely.

She laughed as the door closed behind her.

Harold sat there for a moment, and then glanced down to see Mikey, his little dog, lying patiently at his feet. Mikey was watching him with a cocked brow but did not move.

"Some guard dog," Harold told him. "Daddy passes out in the hallway and you don't even bark." Mikey wagged his tail, but Harold knew better than to interpret this as an apology.

"Come on," he sighed, "let's get you some breakfast."

After Mikey was fed, Harold took a long, hot shower, slipped into some fresh boxers and fell asleep, exhausted. He did not set his alarm, and the setting sun was warming his face when he next opened his eyes. He knew immediately that none of it had been a dream, and although he was not sure why this was happening, he knew that he had to get up immediately and make dinner for Marlene.

He showered again, styling his hair this time. As he stood drying off in front of the bathroom mirror, he stared at his cock, trying to think positive thoughts. He thought of Marlene, slamming her ass against him to take his dick as far up her ass as it would go. He began to feel warm, his dick lengthened a bit against the soft terrycloth but almost immediately there was Pam's voice in the dark, the words like a curse: "boring fuck." And then his budding erection was gone.

He put it out of mind, concentrating on cutting vegetables for a side dish. Marlene walked in without knocking a little after six. Mikey barked a greeting. He had always liked Marlene.

"Sit," Marlene told him firmly when he tried to jump up on her, and Mikey sat down on his haunches at once.

"Good boy, Mikey," she murmured and the little dog rolled over on his back to show her his belly.

"Have I left the door unlocked all day?" Harold asked, anxiously. He tended to worry about burglars and overeager traveling salesmen.

"I still have the key you gave me," Marlene said. Harold blinked. He had given her key? Was this back when they were fucking?

"From when you went away, remember? When I watched Mikey for you."

"Oh." Harold felt vaguely uncomfortable all of a sudden.

"Are you all right?"

"Sure," he said too quickly.

"You look great," he added, and then he actually looked at her.

She did look great. She was wearing a long, tiered skirt with a simple tank that clung to her otherwise bare breasts like a cotton skin. The skirt and top were the same shade of pale pink that suited her perfectly. Her hair hung down in the back but two small braids at her temples kept the strands out of her face. She was barefoot, and Harold felt quite sure that there were no panties underneath that skirt.

"Very hippie chic," he concluded.

She laughed.

Harold said, "Dinner's ready."

They ate without talking much, but they watched each other constantly. I must have known Marlene for longer than any other friend I have, thought Harold. Funny how I never thought of it that way. Funny how she seems to just be a presence in my life. I met her as soon as I moved into the building. I can't really remember what it was like to not know her.

"Marlene," he said suddenly, "why did we stop fucking?"

She cocked her head as if considering.

Harold pressed: "Did I bore you?"

She gave the faintest smile and said, "A bit, yes. It was good, Harry. Don't get me wrong, but I could see where it was going and just stopped it before it got too boring."

Harold felt crestfallen, but his curiosity was stronger. "How did you end it? I don't remember us talking about it."

Marlene looked surprised. "Well, we never talked about any of it, Harry. You gave me the key to watch Mikey while you were in Hawaii that one time. Then you came back, and when I came to return the key..." She smiled. "Well, like they say, one thing led to another. When I left, I kept the key.

"I came back, a few nights a week for the next three months. It was great. Actually, it was better than great. But after three weeks, it fell into an incredibly predictable pattern. You were just so into my ass, Harry. Whatever else I wanted to do, you would rush through it in your eagerness to play with my starfish."

"I thought you liked it," Harry said, trying very hard not to sound whiny.

"It turned me on how into it you were," she admitted with a shrug. "Whatever anyone says, nothing is hot unless the person you're with is into it, you know? And you were so into my ass." She sighed with the happy memory. "But you were obsessed, and it got worse each time. Eventually, I felt like I'd just be backing my ass through the front door so that you could slip your dick into it while I stood in the hallway-"

"That's not FAIR!" Harold thundered, shocking them both.

"I'm sorry." They both said it, meekly, eyes down.

After a pause, Marlene said, "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, Harold. That's why I never told you before. I just stopped coming around and after a few months, it was like it had never happened. But just now, I thought you wanted to know."

"I guess I do," said Harold sheepishly. "It's just kind of hard to hear."

"I know," she said gently. She added, "We don't have to do this, if you don't want."

"No," he said again too quickly. "I do. I just...I'm nervous," he concluded lamely.

"Do you know what your biggest problem is, Harold?"

Oh, God, he thought. What now?

"You don't know how to receive pleasure."

He started. "What?"

"You don't. You think you do because you love ass and you demand it and you get it and you think that that's receiving pleasure, but it isn't. Not entirely."

"Well, then what..." he trailed off.

Marlene rose and moved over to the couch. She settled herself and said, "Come here."

Harold rose and obeyed. He sat beside her and Marlene immediately seized him by the back of the neck and pulled his face to hers. They kissed deeply, Marlene's tongue darting like an eel around Harold's mouth, probing and tickling. Harold groaned. He had never been much of a kisser, but kissing Marlene felt amazing. He felt his cock begin to stir, but he tried not to think about it, afraid he would kill it.

At last, Marlene released his mouth with a pop and whispered fiercely. "I want to kiss you all over, Harry. Every inch of you. Do you want me to do that? Would you like my lips and my tongue all over your body?"

"Uh huh," Harold grunted, his voice husky and stupid with sudden need for this big woman and all that she had to offer him.

"Get naked, Harold."

Harold rose, slipped off his shoes and before he did another thing, he pulled off his socks. He yanked his T-shirt over his head, unbuckled his belt and slipped off his pants and boxers. His cock sprang out, erect and eager and perfectly level with Marlene's fantastic mouth. Harold knew, before Marlene had told him, that it was an impressive prick. A porn cock, a girl had told him once. Your wang should be in movies, she had said.

But Marlene gave his dick only a cursory glance. She had seen it before, obviously, and right now she apparently wasn't interested. She stood, pulled the elastic waistband of her skirt down over her ass and let it drop.

Harold gazed at the pink fabric that lay pooled at her feet, then allowed his eyes to travel up her strong, toned legs to her crotch. He had been right: no panties. Her pussy was neatly trimmed, the soft golden-brown hair cut to a half inch length and carefully shaved on the top and sides. He smiled appreciatively. He was glad she wasn't totally bare. That never looked right to him, but neither did a big old-school bush. She was an innie: the lips completely covering her sex. Eagerly, he envisioned the secrets hidden there. It had been a long time since he had had his mouth on a pussy. He moved towards her.

"Stop," said Marlene.

Harold looked confused.

"First you have to let me kiss you," she admonished gently.

Oh, right. This was supposed to be some sort of therapy. He felt like saying he was cured and just crouching in front of her to bury his face in her snatch. But Marlene was already coming towards him. She cupped his face in her hands and began to kiss his forehead. She kissed his eyes, his nose, his cheeks. She planted one firm kiss on his lips, kissed his chin and moved on to his neck. Here, her tongue snaked out and she nibbled and sucked at his throat. He sighed as her tongue found his earlobe. She moved down, kissed his shoulders and collar bone. She made Harold hold up his arms one at a time so that she could trail kisses down to his hands. Expertly she sucked on his fingers and her tongue swirled over his receptive palms. She showered kisses onto his chest, pausing to lick his nipples. He had never had anyone play with his nipples before. It seemed vaguely unmanly but it felt too good for Harold to ask her to stop. His head fell back and his mouth hung open with pleasure. Marlene pressed on: kissing his belly and sides, kissing down to just above his dick, pressing her lips against the jungle of black hair. His dick was touching her chest, then her shoulder and then her smooth check but bizarrely she ignored it, kissing his legs, his inner thighs. She ignored his balls too. She kissed his knees, his shins and the tops of his feet.

When she began to suck his toes, Harold wished she would never stop. He threw his head back and moaned at the intensity of the pleasure she gave. She sucked on each of his toes, her tongue darting in between them to probe the sensitive skin there. She raked his big toes with her teeth, and finally took several toes in her versatile mouth at once, moving her head back and forth, flexing them with her tongue.

Crouching on the floor, having planted one last kiss on the tops of his feet, she said, "Lie down on your face."

Harry lay face down on the couch, though vague misgivings made him do it slowly. Where was this going? He had a raging hard-on now. Wasn't she going to suck his dick? Hadn't this all been about receiving pleasure? Maybe he was supposed to ask for it.

"Marlene, will you suck my cock, please?"

He was startled to hear her chuckle. "Maybe," she said. "If you're good." Then she began to kiss his back, trailing kisses over his shoulders and down to the middle of his back. When he relaxed, he found that it felt surprisingly good. With each kiss, his skin felt a little more sensitive, a little more alive. It was like she was waking him up, waking his whole body so that by the time she reached his lower back; it felt as if electric current was coursing just under his skin.

Then her lips touched his left ass cheek and his body snapped. His ass hit her in the face and she almost fell off the couch. Harold sat up.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. But don't do that. I don't like it."

Marlene chuckled again. "Oh ho. He likes to dish it out, but he can't take it. See, Harold. You don't know how to receive."

Harold blushed. That was what she had meant? That he didn't like anyone touching his ass, and that was why he was boring?

"Don't worry," said Marlene soothingly. "A lot of guys have this problem. It's okay to be a little scared."

Harold's fist clenched reflexively, and he was shocked to realize that he had been about to hit her. He had never struck anyone in his life, not even as a child, and he would never, ever hit a woman. He felt dazed at the rush of emotions flooding him. Dimly, he became aware that Marlene was gently caressing his thighs.

"Just relax," she crooned. "Just be calm. Doesn't that feel nice?"

It actually tickled uncomfortably, but Harold was too bewildered to protest. Not knowing why he did, Harold allowed Marlene to gently press his body back down onto the couch. She ran her hands over his chest and a warm, comfortable feeling slowly filled him. When she asked him to, he turned over. Firmly, Marlene massaged his upper back until his body began to slowly unclench.

Marlene's hands moved south again but this time Harold let them. Whether it was curiosity or the dare in Marlene's chuckle or something deeper, he did not know. Her hands felt warm and strong on his ass as she gently brushed both cheeks with long, light strokes. Slowly, so that he wasn't sure when she started, Marlene inched her thumb into the crack as she kept on rubbing his cheeks.

Part of him wanted her to stop. A little voice told him to move away, to make her leave. But the truth was her stroking made him feel hot and his dick was rock hard. It was the best massage he had ever had. And the thumb sliding between his cheeks with each pass? Well, it felt weird. But Harold was starting to think it was a good weird.

"Do you like this, Harold?" she asked girlishly.

A warning bell sounded in Harold's mind. Don't tell her you like it, he thought. You're only doing this because she implied that you were afraid to let her touch your ass.

He shrugged. "It's okay."

"Think you can handle more?"

"Sure," he said burying his face in the crook of his arm. "Whatever. Knock yourself out."

"Uh-uh. Not until you relax, baby."

Harold realized that belying his voice, his body was still stiff with apprehension. He tried to play it off. "I don't know what you mean. I am relaxed."

He heard the shrug in her voice: "Okay, if you say so."

And in one fluid motion, she spread his cheeks and shoved her tongue into his asshole.

Harold gasped. The pleasure felt at once so strong and strange, it was mind blowing. His back arched, his mouth opened, he panted to the rhythm of Marlene's powerful tongue licking and probing his virgin pucker. She flicked her tongue over his hole, pressing hard. Then she licked the length of his crack paying close attention to his taint. Finally, she worked her tongue into his ass as deep as she could and vibrated her tongue hard enough that he felt it in his balls.

Harold moaned and reached blindly for Marlene as she pressed her lips against his asshole and sucked, pulling on his rectum, squeezing it tighter and tighter, until he thought he would come or die. Suddenly her lips released his hole with a pop and Harold cried, "Fuck!"

"Tell me," Marlene growled, "tell me how it feels."

"Ohh," Harold wailed helplessly, "Oh my God. I can't...I don't..."

"Then you must need more." And she started all over again, licking his asshole until Harold was gasping and shaking from head to foot.

After an eternity of probing his ass with her tongue, Marlene gently seized Harold's shoulder and turned him over. He lay on his back, panting and grinning feebly as Marlene stripped off her tank top, revealing her perky, brown-tipped tits. Her hard nipples were like little pebbles of firm flesh on the soft white mounds of her breasts.

For a moment she just let Harold's eyes play over her body. Then she turned from him and reached into her large purse. Harold assumed that she was fishing for a condom, but when she turned around she was holding a long, thin dildo.

Harold stared at it in a mixture of horror and fascination. It was not one of those real-looking dildos that came in flesh tones with veins painted on it. This was bright blue, handled, and tapered at the tip. It looked sort of like a candle and seemed to be made of some flexible plastic. Marlene gripped it expertly. "You know," she said with a wicked grin, "I think I feel like cherry tonight. Black cherry."

Nothing held Harold down. No handcuffs held his wrists. There were no scarves tying his ankles to bedposts. Yet, he felt frozen, panicked as if he were confronted by a wild and dangerous animal. Marlene crouched at his feet with a bottle of lube from her purse. She poured some into her hand and held it in her palm to warm it. "I like a cold shot of lube against my raspberry as you well know, Harold, but for virgin holes, its better to warm it up first."

Somehow, she coaxed him to lift his knees exposing his tight, red pucker. She began to coat his asshole with the warmed gel, gently pressing with her fingertips. Harold trembled at her slippery touch.

"Marlene," he managed to croak. "I don't...I mean don't..."

"I'm not going to fuck you, Harold," she said in that same gentle but firm tone. "Not until you're ready. You're going to fuck me."

Harold was baffled until he felt her first finger slide gently into his asshole, only a little ways, no deeper than Marlene's tongue had already been. "You feel that?" she asked tenderly. "Does that feel good? As good as my tongue felt? I want you to lift your hips so that it slides deeper in. I want you to fuck my finger, Harold. Take your time and make yourself feel good."

Beyond thought, beyond objections, Harold felt his hips lifting gingerly, felt his ass pull Marlene's finger in. His mouth dropped open in a silent O. It was the strangest feeling he had ever experienced, being penetrated. It was as if he were discovering a secret part of himself, touching an organ that he never knew that he had. His hips rocked up to meet Marlene's single finger as this strange, new and intense pleasure filled and fascinated him. His movements were gentle at first, then faster and faster and when Harold finally found his voice, he said, "More."

Marlene instantly complied, slipping a second finger into his ass. Harold sighed with satisfaction as the sensations intensified, but he knew immediately that it wasn't enough. "Give it to me," he whispered. "Put that thing in my ass. Do it to me."

Marlene stared at him, riveted. "Are you sure you can handle it?" she murmured.

Harold was panting now. "Fuck me, Marlene. Do it."

Marlene pulled out her fingers, and pressed the tip of the dildo against his asshole. "Just let me know if it's too much."

Harold growled at her, "Fuck me, bitch."

Marlene obliged, sliding the dildo into Harold's ass in one determined motion, so that in seconds she had slid every inch of the toy into his rectum. Harold's eyes popped open and his mouth gaped in a silent scream. It hurt, yes, but there was beneath the pain, that strange, new pleasure that he had already come to love. Before he could even adjust, Marlene was pumping the handle, pressing her plastic cock against the sides of Harold's chute and Harold, helpless to resist, rocked his hips with Marlene's hand.

Harold felt the knot in the pit of his stomach and his moans took on a more urgent note. Marlene knew what was coming. She stopped, and left the dildo pressed deep in his ass. Silent, smiling, she straddled him, slipped a condom on and eased his rock hard dick into her dripping pussy. With his cock inside her, she leaned forward, lifting her tits towards Harold's mouth in an offering.

But Harold had another idea. He sat up suddenly, and grabbing Marlene by the neck, he kissed her deeply. He tasted the strange, exotic flavor of his own ass on her tongue and lips and, improbably turned on, he began to fuck her from beneath, his hips pumping upward, driving his dick further into her oh-so-wet cunt as Marlene's phallus thumped inside his rectum, urging him on from beneath.

Marlene whimpered against Harold's mouth. She broke the kiss and cried, "Oh fuck me, Harold. Fuck me just like that."

Harold had his lips clamped on one of Marlene's nipples as he tweaked the other with his fingers, and thrusting hard and fast into that sweet wetness, he felt her pussy tightening around his cock. She was seconds from coming, he knew. Harold straightened up, wrapped his arms around her, and slammed her with his dick. "Come for me, baby," he muttered through gritted teeth. "Come on my dick."

Marlene obliged with a shriek and a climax that rocked both their bodies. But just before she did, Harold slipped one hand down her back and slid one deft finger into that orifice he loved above all else. So when Marlene's pussy clamped down on his cock, and she came, screaming and shaking, Harold's finger shot into her asshole. It clenched around his finger and the delicious, familiar feeling combined with the joy of Marlene's pussy and tongue and the strange painful pleasure in his own ass sent Harold over the edge and he came with Marlene's lips pressed to his.

For a long time they lay together, chests heaving, their bodies slick with sweat and cum. Suddenly Marlene laughed.

Harold smiled. "What?"

She giggled, "After all that, he's still an ass man."

Harold grinned. "Damn straight. Speaking of which, why don't you turn over for me, baby?"

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