Take It Like A Man (A/L)

(A) – This story contains anal play. 

(L) – This story contains strong language. 

 

I came home one Friday to find my wife in the foyer wearing nothing but a turquoise lace bra and a matching 8-inch strap-on. My dick thickened in spite of itself.

“Honey, what’s that?” I asked, my voice catching.

She gave a slow twirl, showing off a harness of black leather, with a belt at the waist and thick straps curving over her hips and thighs. The dildo, as bright blue as the Caribbean seas where we spent our honeymoon, shot out from her pelvis like a torpedo—thick, proud, and aerodynamic, with a streamlined tip.

“It’s a nice color,” I said, sweat breaking out on my upper lip.

“It’s more than just a nice color,” she replied, stepping closer.

The torpedo bumped against the inside of my right thigh as she whispered, her breath hot on my chin.

“It feels nice, too. Touch it.” She petted the silicone monstrosity, then rubbed it against the crotch of my trousers. “You know you want to.”

My cock went embarrassingly hard.

“Technically, I already am,” I muttered.

“With your hand, darling,” she insisted, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

Why I followed her instructions, I still don’t know. I guess I have trouble saying no to my hot, half-naked wife, especially when her breasts are pressed against me.

Plus, she was wearing that spicy perfume she puts on whenever she wants to fuck dirty. I blame these things for my Pavlovian response.

“Okay,” I said, putting down my laptop bag.

I reached for the weapon between her legs, smooth like polished stone, no ridges or bumps, no mushrooming glans. It was surprisingly light, less than half the weight of my cock at full arousal.

“Um, so what are you going to do with it?” I asked, half-hoping it was a kitchen tool.

“It’s time to turn the tables, baby,” she said. “I’m going to stick it in your ass.”

I released the dildo and stepped back, hitting the closed front door.

“What is this, some revenge? I thought you liked anal,” I said, scuffing the back of my shoe.

She smiled, unfazed. “Oh, I do, but it seems a little greedy for me to keep all the fun to myself, don’t you think?” she teased.

“I have plenty of fun when you let me fuck your ass,” I countered. “Believe me, no deprivation there.”

“You only think that because you’ve never taken it, dear,” she said. “If you had, you would know what you’re missing.”

That wasn’t exactly correct. “I let you put your finger up my ass sometimes,” I said, feeling defensive.

“Let me?” She rolled her eyes. “You practically beg for it.”

I sputtered, “Me, beg? I did no such thing.”

Yes, I liked her finger in my ass. I liked the way it felt when she stroked my prostate, like one continuous orgasm. She’d massage it until the moment I came, and maybe I’d say things, tell her how good she was at milking me, making my dick throb. I might ask her to push harder, rub in little circles, or add a second finger—two is always better than one. But I didn’t beg, did I?

She stepped toward me, bracing her hands on either side of me against the door. My petite wife and her turquoise torpedo had me trapped. She rose onto her tiptoes, dragging the dildo along my thigh until it bumped against my balls.

“You know how hard I come with your dick in my ass,” she said. “I want you to feel what the fuss is all about.”

“Ah, but that’s the rub,” I said. “I don’t want a dick up my ass.”

“Don’t think of it like a dick,” she countered. “Think of it as my love for you, made solid.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“You’re right, that’s too ridiculous,” she admitted. “A popsicle? Those are harmless fun.” We both started to laugh.

I think that was her plan—a one-woman sex army, battering my defenses with her hotness, then using humor to seal the deal.

She looked at me, eyes round, lips in a seductive mew. “Honey, this thing is just a toy. It’s not a penis, and it’s not attached to a man. It’s attached to me, your wife, who wants to fuck you the way you deserve,” she said, dragging a finger down my chest. “You’ve been working hard all week. It’s time to let loose.”

She had a point. My week had been terrible. But was being pegged with a blue popsicle the right antidote?

“If it’s not a penis, why does it have to be…” I gestured toward her crotch, “there? You couldn’t maneuver it with your hand?” I asked.

She smirked. “You’d let me fuck you with it if it was in my hand?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Her words put the image in my head, and my dick pitched a tent in my trousers.

“Besides, it’s too big,” I added.

“It’s not any bigger than your dick, honey,” she said. “And that’s the perfect size for ass play.” She stroked me over the zipper, the metal both pain and pleasure against my erection. “You should be able to take it as hard as you give it. That’s what real men do,” she said.

I cleared my throat. “Well, when you put it that way…”

“You going to prove to me how much of a real man you are?”

“Are you going to take it off so it doesn’t look like some weird pseudo-penis?” I was negotiating, practically agreeing to it.

“I could do that, but…” She dragged her tongue across her upper teeth. “The other end of it is inside my cunt. Every time I sink into you, it’ll sink into me.”

“A double dildo?” My throat went tight with arousal, my voice like a dog’s squeaky toy.

“If you want to call it that,” she said.

I cleared my throat. “Dildos are your toys. I think I’d rather call it something else. If you want to stick it—” I couldn’t finish.

“We won’t call it anything, baby,” she said, mischief in her eyes. “Or we could call it nothing. It wouldn’t emasculate you to have nothing in there, would it?” she teased. “You could still hold your head high at the watering hole.”

She freed the top button of my shirt, then worked downward. She pulled my shirttails loose and lifted my undershirt, exposing my belly and chest, then pressed her lace-covered breasts against me. The itch of her bra was enticing. Her mouth and tongue felt feverish and slick when she kissed me. She pulled away, both of us panting. Her pink lipstick smeared, no doubt all over my face, and the sight made my dick cry a single tear.

“Time to fuck, baby,” she said.

“You promised to put nothing in my ass,” I said, my response slipping out.

Her smile was smug. She knew she’d won.

“I promise.”

 

**********

 

I lay on my back, and she was vertical, like when she’d ride my cock. But she wasn’t riding my cock—she was straddling one thigh.

Her finger was planted firmly in my pucker. It was weird having her finger there without her mouth or hand or cunt around my cock—weirder still that she avoided my prostate so precisely. But the weirdest thing was how good it felt, even without all that.

I couldn’t let her know—it would go to her head.

“Come on, baby, don’t be such a tease,” I said.

“Teasing is my favorite thing,” she replied, her words victorious. “I can’t have you coming just yet. I’m planning a big finale.”

I started to palm my dick, but she slapped my hand away. “Uh-uh, not until I say so. Besides, you should be touching my tits.”

As frustrating as she was, my wife had good ideas. I squeezed her tits through her bra, then slid a finger inside one cup. Her nipple was hard, pebbling under my touch. She moaned and bit one of mine, a needling pleasure that shot to my cock. I made an embarrassing sound, almost barking. It turned her on more.

She switched to sucking, moving her lubed finger in and out. She brushed my prostate. I moaned, grinding my hips to optimize the angle.

“Not so fast,” she said, withdrawing her finger.

My ass felt abandoned. Her mouth crooked into a sly half-smile as she climbed off the bed and undid her bra clasp.

She draped the lingerie over the bedpost. Her breasts jiggled, free, and she stretched her arms to show them off. Her tits were outstanding from any angle. I palmed my cock again; she was too far to stop me. She stood naked but for leather straps and a torpedo, hands on hips, watching me.

“You coming back to bed, baby?” I sounded whiny.

“And you say you don’t beg,” she teased.

“I wasn’t begging, I was asking.”

She gripped the blue weapon at her crotch. “Tell me that you want this,” she said.

I gulped. “And then you’ll come back to bed?”

“I’ll do better than that.”

It was truth time. Dignity, or the lay of my life? The answer was obvious.

“Come back to bed and put that nothing where it belongs.”

She beamed. “And where does it belong?”

God, she wasn’t making this easy.

“My ass,” I murmured.

“Your what?”

I wasn’t a wimp. A real man says what he wants. I looked her in the eye, voice low, alpha-male deep.

“It belongs in my ass, and you know it. Now, please get over here,” I said.

“I love it when you beg,” she replied, squeezing her tits.

She bounced back onto the bed, pressing two fingertips to my pucker.

“I don’t need to warm up. Just need you to, oh—”

She sunk in, both fingers. I bit my lip. God help me. The stretch was my second favorite thing about her fingers inside me. A million nerve endings around my asshole connected to my cock’s brain. I couldn’t come that way, but it felt good. I kept quiet by pulling her tit to my mouth.

“Oh, good boy,” she moaned.

I smelled her arousal, wondering what turned her on more.

She pressed the strap-on against my thigh, thrusting in time with her fingers, working the other end in her hot, wet cunt. I held the blue torpedo still so she could fuck it hard. I tried not to think about how thick it felt in my hand. It was bigger than her fingers. The reality of what I’d agreed to sank in.

“God, baby, this dildo feels incredible,” she said. Her stomach clenched as she arched her back. “Can’t wait to give it to you.”

She plunged her fingers deeper, hitting my prostate. Fireworks went off behind my eyelids—bright colors spinning, my heart booming like a 4th of July show.

Then she pulled out. I shouted, desperate for that pressure back.

Instinct had me rolling over, planting my knees on the mattress, gripping the headboard. I was vertical from knees to head, practically standing. Nothing unmanly about sex while standing. Cool air hit my pucker as she parted my ass cheeks with her thumbs. The blue battering ram nudged my desperate hole. My muscle ring clamped tight, my last defense. I could still back out.

“Relax, baby, this is the best part,” she said. Her naked breasts were soft against my back. She raked her fingers through my happy trail. “I love how hairy you are. Makes me hot, feeling my bare skin against your fur. You’re so virile,” she said, wrapping her hand around my cock. “Only thing that turns me on more is a man who says what he wants.” I’d passed her test and would pass this one.

“Fuck me, please,” I said.

She cooed, pressing harder. My ass unclenched, the tip sinking in, stretching me wide. She’d battered my gates. I was her conquest. Or my ass was the victor, swallowing this invader.

“Fuck,” I sputtered.

Humiliation or ecstasy? I couldn’t tell.

She bit my ear. “I told you, baby. There’s nothing like it.”

Her lube-slicked torpedo overtook my ass, its cool length rising as she grunted. I grunted too, wanting more. I wanted her to thrust it all in, fill me up, fuck my prostate until she’d wrung every drop from me.

“Did I hit your sweet spot, baby? Should I give you more?”

I nodded. “More, please, yeah, more.”

She dug her nails into my hips, pulling me back as she pushed forward. The torpedo glided over my prostate, and I saw stars. Pre-cum pulsed from my dick. I felt like I was winning, not conquered.

She grunted as the last inch sank in. Her pelvis ground hot against my ass. She swayed her hips in circles, the rod fucking me while she fucked it. It rubbed the root of my dick, and I went rock solid. Pre-cum spurted onto the pillow.

“God, your ass looks so hot,” she panted.

She wrapped her hand around my cock and thrust hard. My cock spurted, shooting onto the headboard. She dragged her fingers through the splooge, massaging it along my shaft.

“Harder, please,” I begged, shameless.

She drew back, the dildo teasing my prostate until only the tip remained. My ass clenched, trying to pull her in.

She slammed into me, packing the whole length in one swoop. I shot fluid onto the headboard, choking on a cry. I shook, feeling like I was coming. If fireworks before, this was a megaton of TNT. The orgasm didn’t end. It kept going as she pumped in and out. The stuff pouring from my dick was still pre-cum, thin and clear. We weren’t in the finale, and I was already more turned on than ever.

“You like it, don’t you, baby?” she asked. “You like taking it up the ass.”

She slammed into me—one, two, three hard pumps. Stars became supernovas.

“Fuck yes,” I said.

“You’re a slut for my dick, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I shouted, shameless.

I seesawed onto her dildo, then into her hand, over and over, dizzy, humping toward the big release. I felt it rumbling like an earthquake’s first shocks. My wife fucked me frantically, biting my shoulder as she neared her peak.

“Oh God,” she panted. “Yes!”

My orgasm hit like an atom bomb. Cum shot out, thick and white, painting the headboard and wall. My ass quaked.

“Fuck me. Don’t stop.”

She gripped my hips, plowing into me. My whole body was orgasming.

The blast started behind my navel, shot through my nipples and thighs. Even my scalp tingled. I came and came. I kept coming, even after my dick ran dry.

I collapsed onto the soaked bedding, exhausted. She slowly pulled the toy out. My ass squeezed, trying to keep it in.

“Greedy slut,” she whispered proudly, licking my ear. “I knew you’d love it.”

She unbuckled the halter, pulling the dildo from her body. Her end was almost as big as mine.

“Did I take it as well as I give?” I asked, catching my breath.

She crawled over, draping her body over my sweaty back.

“Even better,” she said. “You made it look so delicious. The way you got off on my dick in your ass made me jealous.”

“Oh my god, would you not call it that?” I was too exhausted to say it harshly.

“You didn’t mind when I was making you come with it.”

“Yeah, well, now my senses are returning,” I said.

“Fine, we’ll call it nothing,” she replied, smiling against my shoulder.

“I’d like to try an even bigger nothing next time.”

My empty ass quivered with arousal. Damn. She was right. I was a slut for anal. Somehow, I didn’t feel ashamed. I just laughed.

“Sure, why not? After all, no one can take it the way a real man can,” I said, and we both laughed, spent and satisfied.