7 comments/ 39628 views/ 17 favorites Fucking Anal or Anal Fucking By: blondechristine2012 I suppose it had to happen sometime. I guess it was an inevitability; something that only time and opportunity had prevented occurring before; an event just waiting to come about; an action that was pre-ordained. I mean a forty-plus-year old divorcee with a number of affairs behind her, a free woman with a high sex drive, a female now unshackled from a fifteen year relationship who has found the adventure in sex can hardly not be fucked up her arse at some time, can she? In the thirty plus years I'd been sexually active it had almost happened many times. That passage had been entered by a number of fingers and tongues and the bulbous tips of a few erections and a couple of buzzing vibrators had all presented their credentials at the enticing entrance. But none had been invited inside, well not far. So technically I was still an anal virgin when I met Ash. Ash, or Ashra to give him his full name, was gorgeous. Over six feet tall, with a taught, slimly muscular body, he had dark wavy hair with a few unkempt locks that appealingly tumbled down over his forehead. The action, which he did all the time, of flicking them away was so casually sexy that I'm sure it alone could have caused some of his young admirers to wet themselves on the spot, especially if he gazed at them with his dark, moody eyes at the same time. It was that action of flicking his hair and holding my gaze that first attracted him to me. That and his good looks, his wit, his intelligence, his sense of irony, his way of not taking himself or others too seriously and his style, charisma and sophistication. All that provided him with tremendous poise and assurance. Those, in turn, lent him an air of authority and command. Ash was always in control, was always the leader and director wherever he was and whoever he was with. The fact that he was fairly rich, owned a big slice of a highly successful ad agency that was headquartered in Beirut, which I learned later was where he came from, but operated mainly in London, Paris, New York and LA and lived somewhat of a jet set life style, really had nothing whatsoever to do with that attraction. Yeah right. Just as the fact that he was, at times, the most attentive and accomplished lover and at others the dirtiest and most depraved one, had no influence on me. Just as his gorgeous body, his long, thick cock, that he seemed to be able to harden on command, or his mouth and tongue that he used on me in the most amazing ways also had no attraction to me. Watch the window for the pigs flying past, won't you? Or the fact that right from the outset of our short-lived affair we both knew it was purely sex. There was no real emotional involvement or entanglement yet we weren't fuckbuddies. There was absolutely no way that I could call him up and ask him round. It just wasn't conceivable and in any case when he wasn't with me he was probably with one of a number of other girls he quite openly admitted to seeing in the cities where his agency operated or where he had clients to visit. No, I was more at his beck and call than he was at mine, which is unlike how I usually like my relationships to be; I guess in this one I was the follower, he the leader; me the submissive he the dominator. It wasn't a case of us being fuckbuddies, more fuckboss and secretary I suppose. Why I went along with that sort of arrangement which in most ways was so foreign to me I'm not sure? Why I was like a stage door groupie to him and why I let him abuse me by being at his command, who knows? Why I would simply drop anything I was doing or change plans at the last minute, even shopping trips, and go to his bed I still can't work out. It was a combination I suppose of the glamour, the sheer fun, the excitement, the difference from my usual life and the extreme sexual pleasure I gained from a man who was by far the most skilful and by an enormous margin the most experienced lover I'd ever had. In other words he fucked me with style and asked for little in exchange emotionally, just my body, well more my tits and pussy really. We'd met at a launch of a new magazine. I was there in my capacity as a freelance copy writer for an ad agency; basically they could tell me to go while their more permanent staff they had to ask and most declined. I was spruced up in a nice little black number, a Karen Millen, cocktail dress. It was low enough at the front to show that my breasts were of a size that was interesting to most men, 33b at the time. It was high enough at the hem to show that beneath the knee my legs stood comparison with most, but not high enough to show that further up they become a little chunky, 'thighs like nut crackers' as an ex once called them. It was a posh do at the V & A museum in Knightsbridge, London with masses of people from publishing, PR, advertising and most areas of business life. As with most of these do's it was about 70/80% male so the minority of us females were in demand as everyone circulated eating canapés and sipping drinks. That's something I have real difficulty in accomplishing with any semblance of elegance. The juggling of the plate and glass as you drink and nibble generally ends up with me dropping one or the other or, worse, letting crumbs or bits of food fall into my cleavage. And yes I have had men offer to lick it off! "Why don't you let me hold your plate while you sip the champagne," a voice said. That was my first contact with Ash. The second was him suggesting we stand by a table so I didn't have to juggle the food and drink. The third was him walking me round the museum away from most of the other people and the fourth was asking me to dinner after the do. "I'm hosting a small dinner later, please join us," he asked, or had he commanded me to join them, I wondered later, for that's in a way how it sounded? I circulated for a while chatting to colleagues some of whom I'd known for years, a couple of whom I'd had mild flings with. I listened to the various speeches and the official launch of the new magazine and watched the spectacular short accompanying cabaret. As it was all ending a young guy came up and asked if I was Christina Hunt and was I joining Ash for dinner? I had thought that maybe he had forgotten for we hadn't spoken since he'd invited me. I did notice that he was in the front row, the VIP seats, and a couple of time as he turned he caught my eye and we smiled at each other. That actually felt good, not cheesy or smarmy at all. Together with eight or nine others I was directed to a side door where we waited a few moments before a couple of limos turned up. I'd seen that I was one of only a couple of single women for the others all seemed to have partners. We sort of introduced ourselves on the short journey but more formal ones were made by Ash when he greeted us all at a private room in one of London's top restaurants. We stood around sipping champagne and kir royals until Ash ushered us to the large twelve-seater round table. I was surprised, yet secretly thrilled to be seated next to him. On my other side there was a fairly high powered magazine journalist and round the table I could see a couple of other faces I knew. It was a pretty impressive, ad industry A list dinner table. And, being a humble, freelance copywriter that was something I most definitely was not used to at all Ash clearly knew everyone and most seemed to know him so I was, to a large extent, the odd one out. That didn't faze me too much, though, for he treated me as if I was an old friend; no that's not true, for from the moment we sat down he really treated me as if we were lovers. He had this unusual, well to me at least, combination of supreme self-confidence and amazing humility. He could tell me things about his life-style that from most men would have sounded boastful, but from him they didn't. He could say things about him that from most men I had met would have sounded arrogant. The way he stated them, though, with a disarming smile and that shrug of the shoulders that's so common amongst the French and men from the Middle East, they didn't sound a bit like that. When he complimented me, held my hand, stroked my wrist and on two or three occasions during the meal kissed the back of my hand it wasn't cheesy, overly come on or assumptive. And when his knee pressed against mine a few times and once when his hand rested on my thigh it didn't seem pervy or out of order as it usually did when men had done such things to me in the past. Those things were done with such assurance and, I suppose in a way, style, that at the time they seemed perfectly natural. Looking back now, I can't understand why I let him do such things so quickly, for that was so not me. With Ash though, the idea of resisting or objecting seemed so trifling, childish and totally out of the question. So as I sat at that table full of strangers I didn't' stop him stroking my hands or kissing it. I didn't think of objecting when his leg pressed against mine under the table and it was just not a viable option for me to move away when his hand ran up my leg taking my skirt with it to a level where he knew I was wearing hold-ups. As his hand found the lacy tops to he looked at me, smiled and murmured. "Mmmm how nicely decadent." All that was done with an assurance, sophistication, style and level of aplomb I'd never experienced before. He was clearly used to getting his own way, but didn't seem to be the type to force himself on a woman. And he didn't force himself on me. Not during the meal, not after it as he asked me to stay behind as his guests left, not when he took me in his arms in the empty room and kissed me and not when he cupped my breasts. It also didn't seem forced when he suggested we go to his flat or, when once inside he kissed me again, or as we kissed he caressed my breasts. Nothing was forced or overly manipulated. Not my breasts being eased out from my dress and bra, not his erection being pressed firmly and confidently into my stomach and not him undoing the zip at the back of the dress and sliding the garment from me. I was in this as equally as he was. So as he unclipped my bra, I undid his trousers. As he removed the bra so I slid his trousers down and was amazed to find he wasn't wearing underpants; later I found out he never did. So, as it happens then, for he had already removed his tie, as we slipped his shirt off, he was naked before me. Somewhat unusual, but then, as I subsequently found out, most things were with him. When I think back I realised that I never was naked that night. I was wearing hold-up black stockings and they stayed on, but that often happens, for many men find that a turn on don't they? Rarely do they keep the girl's knickers on though, but Ash did for our first fuck. He kept them on; he pushed the silk into me and rubbed my pussy and clit through them. It created an oddly erotic sensation to have his fingers in me but covered in my silk panties. It was just as odd to have the silk pressed firmly against my anus and my lips; it was even odder to feel his erection pushing the gusset of them into me. I thought at first as I lay in the middle of his bed on my back with his naked, muscular body between my opened legs that he was going to use my panties as a sort of condom so far did he push them in, but no, he was too long for that so the panty material slid to one side. He still, though, did fuck me while I had my knickers. He also later fucked me with them off. That night broke new ground for me in many ways. I had so very, very rarely in my years of sexual activity, slept with a man on a first date. I had never really been as totally and utterly seduced as I was that night. No man had ever controlled, dominated and directed me in the way Ash did as the night wore on. I had never let a man be so intensely and basically intimate with me so early in a relationship as I did Ash. And I'd never quite let myself go with a new lover as I did with him, both that night and throughout the short affair. It was a night, and I do mean a night, for we didn't get to his apartment in Regents Park until after mid-night and I didn't leave to go home until nine the next morning. I felt embarrassed even though he had a driver take me home; God knows how I'd have felt in a cab in my cocktail party type dress! I did things with Ash, willingly and eagerly I have to say, that were so different on a first date, well for me at least. Some I had never done before and others I had always reserved for much later in a sexual affair. For instance, the whole thing with him both finger and cock fucking me through my panties was new, exciting and adventurous to me. As was him pushing his cock inside my panties and then when he eventually removed them wrapping them round his cock and balls. I sucked him and licked him. I took him deep in my mouth and sucked first one, then the other and then both of his balls into my mouth; actions that were not unknown to me, but actions that were usually reserved for later. Similarly, with me lying on my front letting him open my legs, a little, going along with him raising me up so I was half kneeling my face squashed against the silk sheet and then delighting at feeling his mouth on my thighs, on my back, on the cheeks of my bum and between them right on my anus. This wasn't new but was not something many men had attempted on initial lovemaking. I mean it takes quite a lot of sexual self-confidence to try licking the asshole of a woman you've only known for a few hours doesn't it? So that's how I met Ash and how we "got to know" each other. In the following few months we got to know each other a great deal better and did things I'd never even contemplated let alone indulged in. * A bit of a diversion. For those of you that like the detail I usually go into, this chapter will probably be a disappointment. For those who enjoy how I describe both the emotions and feelings I have during sex and how I try to combine them with telling you about the physical actions that were occurring at the same time, this may not be for you. I'm going to write this chapter in shorthand; I'm going to cut to the chase; leave out the detail, miss the little things. The reason being is that this account is really concerned with just one sexual deed. Everything else that went on between Ash and me is peripheral to that. The times and places where he fucked me are subservient to that one particular fuck, that one special fuck, that one spectacular fuck. Yes all that I tell you about in this chapter is the build up to that fuck, the ways and means by which we got there, they are the reasons why, after all the years I've been having sex, I let Ash fuck me in the arse. So for a couple of months I had an amazing time with this fascinating man. I subsequently learned that he was Lebanese and had been educated in England at Millfield School and Durham University and then at Harvard in the USA. He was a Catholic and his family had suffered quite a lot during the troubles in his home country so he hadn't really lived there very much. He travelled extensively but just how much real work he did I often wondered. Like many Lebanese people he was fluent in French and English, nearly so in German and of course his mother tongue Arabic. He told me early on that he still loved his wife. "She is the mother of my children and for that I will always love her" He said that divorce or even a parting was unthinkable. He told me equally early on also that he was not and never had been faithful to her. "Like in the Godfather, Christina, as he called me, I fucked a bridesmaid at the reception." He really was a master at the double standards that are so prevalent in the Middle East. I wasn't sure why he was telling me all this, perhaps to ensure that I didn't get any ideas in that direction. I guess during the first few weeks of the affair I saw him three or four times a week. Probably two lunchtimes and afternoons and two evenings and often nights. Although he took me to some wonderful restaurants and clubs, to Ascot and Henley and on some great shopping sprees, especially in Janet Regar and Agent Provocateur, the focus of the affair was sex. Now that was unusual for me. I was still struggling to find the balance between satisfying my sexual hunger and not making an emotional commitment to a man. For months prior to Ash I had been pretty much celibate, preferring no sex to the guilt I got from sex without emotional commitment, and that I could no longer give to a man; that is since my divorce from my ex who I'd been with for fifteen years. Sure I'd had flings in the four years we'd now been apart. Sure I'd had sex with a few more men than perhaps I should and yes I'd done one night stands and had tried a fuckbuddy. But none of it had worked, hence the celibacy bit. As I said the focus of our relationship, well probably the reason for it as well, was sex. He was good and I needed it. I didn't realise just how much until I started getting it regularly from him. It was like drifting back to smoking. You can go completely without, and then you dabble with 'just one after dinner."#' But then, hardly before you know it, you want more and more and can hardly exist without a regular fix. That's exactly how I became about Ash. I wanted as much of him as I could get, not in a lovey-dovey sort of way, purely physically. That's why during that amazing period he was fucking me probably eight or nine times a week. Often it was several times in one long afternoon or an all-night session. He had two residences in London. One was a house in Belgravia, the other a flat in Chelsea Harbour. He did take me to the house, but not often. He made it clear that was his London family home and, of course, he had servants there. How the hell he explained me staying overnight or how he kept them quiet, I have no idea. We would now and then go to a hotel in the country, Chewton Glen in Hampshire being one of his favourites. He was interested in where I lived and visited me there a couple of times, but Essex was so much off his radar it was only twice. Wherever, we went it was always good sex, sometimes even great. It was adventurous and varied. We did most things. I modelled the loads of underwear he bought me and then he'd fuck me in them often ripping a pair of silk panties that cost fifty quid. We masturbated together, used vibrators on ourselves and the other, obviously fucked in every conceivable position and we had very extensive oral sex. I let him cum in my mouth and let him shoot onto my breasts and face. What we didn't do, though, was what so many men yearn for, anal sex. Yes I let him finger me, yes I let him hold the vibrator there and even open me up a little and yes I let him, very willingly actually, lick me there to full orgasms. And on top of that I returned the compliments. I kissed licked and sucked him there, I slid my tongue up him and I pushed my finger knuckle deep into his anus and finger fucked him until he shot all over my face. But still my fear and trepidation, not moral indignation, prevented me letting him have everything I had. And that's what he wanted. Everything. And a key part of everything sexually was my bum. He felt that it's such an integral part of sex that without full and active penetration of it a couple have not pushed the boundaries as far as they might, they haven't gone all the way and they haven't created a full sexual relationship. "There should be no holding back Christina, nothing should be restricted, everything you have you should give me, as I give my all to you," Ash said in a rather chauvinistic way, his Middle Eastern attitudes I thought, but not totally disagreeing with him. I did feel deep down and on a purely intellectual level that anal adventures are an essential part of a truly sexual relationship. They are the most forbidden action and are the most precious gift a woman has to give. And of course the taboo never existed in the part of the world that Ash came from Fucking Anal or Anal Fucking "You have to let me Christina," he said many times as we lay in each other's arms after a nearly full sexual session. He never, though, as he didn't anything else, tried to force me. I was as aware as Ash was that we couldn't really consider ourselves to be a sexually sophisticated partnership until we had full anal sex. The pressure was increasing for I wanted us to be such a partnership, I wanted to remove the barrier, I wanted us to have a full relationship and there was no one I had ever met or was likely to meet to who I would more wish to bestow my most precious gift to than him. Taking a deep breath I whispered. "I will Ash, I will, but give me time." * We were going to Marbella on the Costa del Sol in Spain for a long weekend. He had arranged for us to stay at a luxury villa a friend of his owned. As both of us knew the area quite well we had agreed we wouldn't go out much. "We can get the restaurants to deliver our dinners, the place is stuffed with booze and the maid will do our breakfasts and shopping," Ash said a few days before we left. "In fact Christina she will do a lot more than that if we want her to. Interested?" He added smiling "You know I am not into women Ash." He had asked me several times if I was at all inclined that way and had hinted at a threesome twice, but I had managed to avoid the issue. Deep down, though, I was pretty sure that if or, probably more to the point, when he pushed me I would say yes. We were both looking forward to spending most of the time making love either in bed or around the pool. "It's totally secluded so you'll hardly even need swimsuits let alone dresses, for I want you naked most of the time," he as good as ordered me over the phone adding, with a laugh in his voice. "But of course bring loads of sexy underwear". I was actually beginning to get used to and rather liked him taking control. I was, I suppose, finding a subservient even maybe submissive side of me. "Yes Ash," I'd said obediently before going on a shopping trip to top up on bikini bottoms and logging onto a new site I had found on the web where I bought some new lingerie that I knew he'd like. It was a lovely villa. Not huge, just two double bedroom suites and a large, kitchen/diner/lounge area that spilled out onto a beautiful shrub covered patio leading to the pool. The patio had the living area on one side and the bedrooms on the other two. They all sort of all became one with the garden and the pool. It was hard to realise at times whether one was indoors or out, so it became natural and easy to walk naked from the bedroom onto the patio and straight into the pool. It became as natural to do that as it was the first night we got there for Ash to fuck me in the pool in the dark, well not completely dark for there was a number of lights around and even in the pool. It had been years since I'd had sex like that and although it actually wasn't that easy to get him inside me with the buoyancy of the water, it was an amazingly sexy act to be fucked in water, outside, under the stars. It was just as amazingly sexy when he then fucked me on a sunbed and later when I, using my mouth on his cock, balls and bum, got him hard again and I straddled him as he lie on the marble patio floor. In the villa there was a book of menus of local restaurants. Ash ordered us a dinner which arrived after the water fuck and that set us up perfectly for the later sun bed fuck. The next day we didn't leave the villa at all. We lazed around the pool both totally naked occasionally one or the other of us getting aroused and then we'd make love. A couple of times it was complete sex but mostly just kissing and caressing each other. It really was lovely. That first evening and day set the pattern for the next couple of days. I'd never had so much open air sex or such tingling nipples or tanned bum. The nipples thankfully soon recovered when Ash popped to the local pharmacy and got the most soothing aftersun lotion I'd ever experienced, but then I guess it was in his interest to get them soothed for he had to endure a whole night and day without being able to suck or even pinch them. It was our last night, the Monday. "We're going to Sinatra's and then the Club," he told me, mentioning a quite famous bar and the top club in Marbella. "But I don't' have anything to wear," I replied, a bit pissed off that he'd dropped this on me. "You said not to bring any dresses or smart get ups." "I know and that's why I've bought you an outfit." "Really?" I asked, pleased and excited by his thoughtfulness. "Yes, its hanging up in the spare bedroom, why not try it on? "I will, I beamed, thanks Ash." It was a little girls dress really, well an eighteen to twenty year old's outfit, the sort they wear round the clubs in London. It was short and tight and thin and revealing and probably the sexiest thing I'd ever worn. Looking at myself in the mirror I felt so womanly and so erotic in it. It was sleeveless and was made from a thin, fairly clingy material. It wasn't see through by any means but the material was so fine it felt as though it was transparent, as though, I realised, I wasn't wearing anything. It was mainly white, with little pink splashes in differing shades, almost like a piece of modern art. It had a scooped neckline that ran round my chest about mid-way between my collar bones and the start of the swell of my breasts. The hem of the dress was at the most halfway down my thighs. It was the length of an old fashioned mini dress, but with the cut and style of a very modern sexually adventurous, outfit. In nearly any other place in the world it would be looked on as a kid's get up, but here in Marbella, just like in LA or Miami South Beach, women are ageless. In places where boob jobs, tummy tucks, collagen and botex, cellulite removal, face lifts and even designer vaginas are a dime a dozen, a woman of my age in such a dress fits in so easily it would hardly raise an eyebrow, that is if the plastic fucked up faces permitted eyebrows to be raised! It fitted me perfectly. It was tight enough to reveal and even emphasise the places that women like to show and emphasis but it didn't go too far, not quite but it went just about as far as dress can go without becoming indecent. For you see right down the front, from the neck to the hem, there was a series of press studs. Little studs that held the two sides together. Little studs that would not pop open on their own, but would come open easily with a gentle pull. Yes a row of little press-studs that an onlooker could imagine popping open. A row of studs that the more ambitious-minded onlookers could visualise them popping open. A row of studs that those with real sexual adventurousness in their mind would imagine the wearer of the dress yanking open. A row of studs that as I looked at myself in the mirror I could see myself slowly popping. "It's meant to be worn without a bra," I heard Ash say, making me jump. "Ash I couldn't, well not in public." "Of course you can, in fact I insist and in any case this time of year no women wear them for Marbella's nightlife." I protested a bit more, knowing though that I'd agree, for he was right. The dress was certainly made to be worn braless and I knew that Marbella was a very 'underdressed' place for women. As with most social hotspots nowadays it seems that women there are cajoled into wearing as little as possible and showing as much as they dare, or more. As we walked into Sinatra's at just after eleven that evening I felt that I was wearing as little as possible and showing much more than I really I dared. Under the dress I was only wearing panties, the pair I'd bought from the Internet. I'd done as Ash asked and had left off my bra. Now for some girls that's not a problem. For girls with small breasts or particularly firm or pert boobs the absence of a bra is often hardly noticeable. As they walk, they barely jiggle, as they bend there's not much to hang down and as they dance they don't wobble that much. For other girls, though, it can be a problem, a big challenge and bloody embarrassing. And for girls that are probably a few pounds overweight have largish boobs in any case, have a make-up whereby their tits attract that weight and thus have DD cups, it can be particularly troublesome. I did not, though, have those problems. My issue was my protruding nipples. I can do nothing about them looking as if they are permanently sexually erect. They are permanently erect, but not because I am sexually aroused, simply because that is how they are and they can be a fucking nuisance. Not tonight though. In Spain, in Marbella, in Sinatras they were just right. Holding Ash's hand, I walked across the bar feeling as though every eye was in me. My breasts seemed to have discovered a mind of their own and felt as if they were leaping around all over the place. It was as if they were trying to draw attention to them, to the dress, to the lack of a bra, to the expanses of skin on my arms, my chest, my cleavage and my legs. My nipples, were as perky as always and were making very obvious indentations in the ultra-thin material. As a few photographers flashed away in the forlorn hope we were celebs, taking shots of my legs and up my skirt, the bloody raspberry like buds simply exploded. I smoothed the skirt down as I stood up regretting that the hem came to only about nine inches beneath my pussy. As the eyes seemed to zero in on me I also regretted leaving three of those studs undone at the bottom of the dress, also three at the top, also showing so much cleavage and so much leg. In fact I was regretting wearing as little as possible for I was showing more than I really dared. In some ways I regretted that, but in others I didn't. Along with a touch of embarrassment I also felt excited and rather turned on by the blatantly lustful gazes of many of the men and not a few women The bar was heaving and how the hell he got seats I have no idea, but he did, he told me later that he 'bought' them with a tip of a hundred Euro. I looked around. Couples were standing close together, arms round each other, many were kissing and some were openly groping each other. And several of the couples quite nearby were not male and female! Ash kissed me; he ran his fingers up my leg, almost all the way, nearly to my panties, almost to my pussy. It didn't seem out of place, not out of the ordinary or in any way that outrageous. Given the atmosphere in the smart but clearly very erotic bar nothing really seemed to be outrageous. Not the two girls openly necking or the two men holding hands. Not the girl whose blouse was open right down the front or the one that was wearing suspenders and stockings, but had forgotten her skirt. No, partial nudity, otherwise outrageous sexual behaviour, sexuality adventures and lovers starting to get it on were all part and parcel of the scene in Sinatra's that night, maybe every night. The Club, as everyone in Marbella called it, was also heaving. It was loud, loads were dancing and as expected most women and many men as well were wearing as little possible and showing all they dared. I was getting into this aspect of exhibitionism. I was beginning to enjoy the stares. The gazes of men, and women running up and down me, the eyes on my clearly unfettered breasts, and the looks at the long expanse of my legs that were bare as Ash and I danced. The staring at where the thin material of the ridiculously flimsy and equally ridiculously short dress clung to me and, more interestingly, where it didn't! I was getting kicks from men and women staring at the press studs, many of them I guessed willing them to pop open. Some nearly did and others did. The top was now open to at least half way down between my breasts and as I moved slowly on the spot dancing, maybe even more than that at times. We didn't stay that late. I don't think either of us could have handled much more of the heady atmosphere created in the club by the outrageously erotic behaviour of the clientele. We necked like two teenagers in the back of the cab that took us the ten miles or so back to the villa. Is necking the right term I wondered? Maybe heavy petting or groping is more appropriate. Whatever the correct term nowadays his hands visited every part of my body both inside and outside my clothes and mine delved deep into his trousers to hold and stroke his lovely hard cock. I'm sure if the journey had lasted much longer we would have found a way to fuck on that back seat, we would simply have had to. Once out of the cab and inside the front garden of the villa we kissed again. He slipped both hands down the front of my dress popping open the two or three press studs above my waist that had, somehow, stayed together. He held my boobs in his hand, pressing them together and bent forward and slid his tongue along the narrow crease of the deep cleavage that created. "Oh Ash," I sighed a little worried that we were standing in a pool of light and presumably could be seen by passers-by in their cars if they glanced this way. "If I didn't need a pee so much I'd fuck you right here and now." "Well I don't want accidents that way, so we'd better go in for that hadn't we?" I replied I got some wine while Ash went to the loo. I turned the lights down and put on some soft romantic music. I waited for him sipping my dry white, Rioja wine. I had a plan, an idea. It had been buzzing around in my head all day, in fact ever since we had been here. I had not been sure about it, I still wasn't, my body was saying one thing my mind the other, I was in a conflict, I was confused. I was also aroused and excited, full of expectation, a little scared but also so full of a desire to experiment, please him and go somewhere I'd never been before. "In the bedroom," I called out when he shouted. "Where are you?" "In the bedroom waiting for you," I added as I heard him approaching. Immediately he turned the corner and entered the room I put my arms round him, moulded by body to his and squashed my lips to his mouth. I kissed him as hard as I could, grinding my lips to his and probing my tongue deep into his mouth licking all-round the roof of his mouth as I knew he liked. My breasts were squashed as flat they can be, my hands were running up and down his back and in his hair and I was squirming my aching pubis area hard against his cock, which as usual, hardened immediately. I wanted him, I wanted him now and I wanted him my way. "Wow Chris," he moaned as I slid my hand between us and ran it up and down the outline of his erection through the thin, linen trousers. "Shush, don't say anything, I want to fuck you," I whispered, easing his zip down and opening his trousers. "Oh yes, yes Chris," he groaned as we struggled his trousers down; as usual he wasn't wearing boxers or underpants. I stood away a little, undid the buttons on his shirt and ran my hands over his hairy chest, pinching his nipples and cupping the slight excess of flesh on his manly breasts. We pushed the shirt off and he was naked, gloriously bare and deliciously nude for me. He looked fabulous. He was tanned all over, his body was lithe and muscular, it curved in and stood out where it should and was soft and hard exactly where we like them to be. And that was particularly the situation with his lovely cock that was squashed against me running up the length of my stomach. I always find being fully or, even partially come to that, dressed with a naked man very sexy. I find it a particular turn on to be showing nothing while he shows all. It was especially sexy to be doing this with Ash for it put me in control, I was leading and directing events, I was in control, yes I was the dominant one, he the submissive! And what a change that was. I stroked his cock, rubbed his buttocks and ground my silk covered tits against his firm, hairy chest. He grabbed my bum, rubbed and squeezed that and then went to caress my breasts. I stopped him. "No this is my show," I, almost, growled adding as I pushed his hands away, "I'm going to fuck you, now lie on the bed and shut up." He looked magnificent lying naked in the middle of the large bed. His dark skin made darker by the nude sunbathing of the past few days was in stark contrast to the crisp white sheets. His muscular, nicely hairy body with his lovely erection rearing straight up the middle of his flat stomach excited me. I was reacting to the anticipation of it soon being moulded against me as we made love; no, had sex was more appropriate I reminded myself, smiling as I thought, 'actually to be realistic it was more as we fucked.' I stood beside the bed out of his reach and ran my hands up and down the front of my body, lingering on my tits and tummy through the thin, soft material. I turned and stuck my bum out towards him as I stroked its roundness. Looking over my shoulder I asked. "Is this what you what you want Ash, my body, my tits, my pussy, my bum?" "Yes Christina, it is, I want all of those," he croaked, his fingers I noted idly stroking his erection. He often touched himself there when we had sex. Many men seem to be rather self-conscious when naked and erect. Not Ash though, he revelled in it, he flaunted his nudity and rampant readiness at me. He would hold his cock and say as he stroked himself. "You want this don't you Christina? You want my big hard cock don't you? You want it in you don't you? You want my hard, hot cock right up your cunt don't you?" Aroused already and further so by watching him and hearing his wonderfully dirty phrases, I groaned as I started to caress myself that I did want that, and I did, badly, very badly. Sometimes we continued doing that to ourselves, carried on masturbating, carried on until I was starting to cum and he was ready to ejaculate. "Where do you want my cum Christina? On your tits, on your arse or all over your face?" he'd ask as my climax made my body convulse making it difficult for me to moan. "On my tits and face." But that wasn't my plan for tonight. Oh no. My plan was far more erotic, dirty, decadent, even, than that. I moved a little further away from the bed. Looking over my shoulder at the gorgeous site waiting for me on the bed I smiled as I tossed my head shaking my loose, shoulder length, dirty blonde hair off my face. He smiled back. I reached behind me with one hand my white painted finger nails slithering up the thin material. I took the hem in my hand and with my eyes locked on his I edged it upwards. Not a long way, just far enough to show him the creases where my bum cheeks flared out from the back of legs. Not that far, just enough so he'd see the lace round the bottom of my panties. Ash was a real lingerie freak and I knew that the sight would please and excite him even more. "Do you want me to undress Ash; to show you my body, to be naked for you?" "Yes, yes, do it. Show me your tits and cunt." I paused for a while. I turned and faced him holding the edges of the dress in each hand. Where he'd popped the press studs earlier had already opened it to beneath my nipples, but I hid those by holding the dress together. I couldn't though hide the very obvious outlines of both my tits and nipples through the flimsy fabric, but then I didn't really want to, other than to tease him. I slowly pulled it tight across me so that the material was stretched across my breasts. Encased in the thin dress that was, with the light behind me almost see through, and was really slightly too small for me, my breasts would have looked bigger than they were, well that was the idea for I knew that added to his turn on. I also knew that my achingly erect nipples would be straining against the thin diaphanous material. I cupped each breast; I squeezed them and pushed them together as I watched him stroking his cock which seemed to be bigger and harder than I'd ever seen it. Fucking Anal or Anal Fucking Looking deep into his eyes, my mind having the filthiest thoughts, I slowly parted the sides of the dress. I pulled them until the next press stud was straining. I pulled them until that popped open. And I pulled them until one after the other all but one press stud, the one by my navel, popped open. Yes I pulled them until the dress was effectively hiding nothing so that Ash could stare at my body now clad just in the pale pink, lacy boy shorts with the dress off my shoulders and hanging around my waist. I turned sideways to him. I pulled the hem up showing him the waistband and side of the boy shorts I was wearing. They were pink, lacy, see through and very tight. I again caressed my breasts, this time outside the flimsy material of the dress. I slid one hand down my body until it was on my mound. I rubbed myself there and then slipped my fingers inside feeling the slippery wetness of my streaming pussylips greeting them. I put my fingers to my mouth and licked them. I turned and looked into the floor to ceiling mirrors on the bank of wardrobes along one wall. Ash was looking at my back and swaying bum and at the reflection of my front. I was looking at him and holding his gaze as I squeezed and pinched my tits and nipples. I watched him getting up and loved the view of him walking across the room his cock jiggling in front of him. He came up behind me, put his arms round me, pressed his achingly hard cock against my bum and slid one hand down me to cup my mound and cupped my breast with the other. He found and rubbed my clit. "Nice Chrissy?" "Oh yes Ash, yes, it's wonderful," I groaned as wave after wave of such delicious feelings flooded my senses and body. The dress seemed to just float away from me to land on the floor. Holding my breasts he said. "Take your knickers off, I want you naked." I was as eager to be that as he was to want me to be like that so my panties quickly joined the dress on the floor. Still behind me he slid his cock between my legs. It didn't go in me, but went right along my slit so that my lips were sort of on top "And this will be even better," he whispered as his hands left my breasts and pussy and once more took hold of me by my hips. In a rather ungainly manner or, so it looked in the mirror, he manipulated my body and his so that we were both kneeling upright with him behind, if that makes sense; imagine we were about to pray! Bending down so that his cock left the confines of my thighs and the wetness of my lips it reared upwards so that the end of it pushed against my lips. It felt wonderful. Pulling me backwards a little the penetration was now entirely different to most other times we had fucked. As it slid up me it occurred to me rather unnecessarily that I had not been fucked in this position before. Kneeling on all fours or with my face down on the bed and bottom in the air of course, but not kneeling upright in a praying position. That added to the eroticism of the moment, but then so did the availability of the front of my body to his hands and as, of course, did the view in the floor to ceiling mirrors on the wardrobes. Over the period of our short affair we had both found an enjoyment in watching ourselves make love, of seeing his hands on my breasts and my mouth around his erection or his cock up my pussy. It was fun, exciting and it added thrills and excitement to our already, usually, fantastic sex. This was no exception and the eroticism and heady atmosphere of the evening got to both of us and we fucked hard, fast and strong. Strolling out of the bedroom and across the terrace we slid into the pool where we both swam a little before kissing again. Refreshed and cleaned up we got out and sat naked on a hammock. Ash went inside and got a bottle of red wine and the tin in which he kept his joints. Cuddled up together with his arms around me we shared one and I went into the vague, dreamy world of being slightly stoned. We may have dozed off for a while or the combination of the weed and wine may have made me pass out, but the next I remember was being back in the bedroom lying on the large bed in his arms. "How do you feel?" He asked. "Wonderful," I sighed, possibly slurring a little. We kissed lengthily and our hands roamed over the other's body. I could feel him growing against my leg so I reached down and caressed his growing erection. He stroked my bottom and cupped each cheek. I pushed back against his hand and felt his fingers slide into the crease. He had done that often, but somehow this time it seemed different, it was as if it had more meaning, was more erotic and meant more. His finger found my hole and pressed against it. Suddenly, I made my mind up. It was time, I was ready, I wanted it, I wanted him, I wanted to excite him and give him my precious gift. I wanted to give my bottom to my lover. Yes I wanted Ash to fuck me in my arse. Breaking my mouth away from his, I looked into his eyes and whispered. "I am ready Ash." "What?" He asked adding. "What are you ready for?" Moving out of his arms I turned onto my front and spread my legs. I knew that would open up the crease between the cheeks of my bottom and he would see my anus as well as the puffed up lips of my pussy between my legs. "This," I croaked. "It's yours Ash if you want it. "Oh Chrissy," he sighed lying beside me, kissing me and putting his hand on my bottom. "Are you sure?" "Yes my darling totally." With his finger gently probing the puckered entrance to my most secret place, he kissed me deeply and whispered. "Thank you my love, thank you so much, I will be so very, very gentle I promise." He got up from the bed and went to the bathroom to return with a brown bottle and a large towel. "It's the purest almond oil," he informed me. He laid the towel beside me. Rolling onto it I rested my face against my folded arms, closed my eyes and opened my legs. I felt him pulling on my hips and realised that he wanted me to lift up so I did. He slid a pillow beneath my tummy. "It will be better like this," he whispered, running his fingertips up and down my thighs and onto my soaked pussy. Gathering some of my juices on his finger he said. "The almond oil is better as an anal lubricant, but we don't want to waste these do we?" "No," I croaked as his fingers hovered by my lips. I opened them and they slid inside so that I could lick his fingers and taste my own juices. As we did that I felt the oil gliding along my anal crease and onto my hole. He rubbed it with his fingers massaging it into the crinkled brownish skin surrounding the entrance to my anus. As that softened a little so his finger slid inside a little way, but unlike other anal finger fucks he did not push it in even as far as his first knuckle. No this was just a test to make sure I was softening and being lubricated. "Ok Chrissy?" He asked kissing top of my head. "Mmmmm, you know I like that." I felt him moving around on the bed and realised that he was between my opened legs. "And my darling I am sure that you will get to like this as well," he murmured as I felt the head of his cock press right against my hole. I could feel him pushing it in me and the entry to my bottom opening up as the larger part of his cock went inside. That hurt and I cried out. "Shush my darling it will soon pass," he said stopping. He let me get attuned to having his cock inside my bum before pushing a little more. It hurt. It felt as though my bum would be torn and I could not imagine how this would be enjoyable. I felt him lay his body on mine and slowly slide centimetre by centimetre up my back passage. Although the tearing feeling had abated somewhat there was no real feeling of sexual excitement as there would have been had we been having straight sex. His arms came round me and his hands cupped my breasts as he pushed the final few centimetres until he was up my arse to the hilt. He stopped. "Ok?" "Yes, it's ok Ash, but just that," I replied wondering what all the fuss was about with anal sex? I was hurting, my bottom felt filled and I was not getting much of a sexual charge from his cock being where it was. I was, of course, enjoying his hands on my body. Whilst one was still attending to my breasts and nipples the other had slid down and found my clit that he rubbed with just the right amount of pressure. It was only then that I suddenly realised the pain had changed into at worst a very slight, dull ache. The tearing, ripping feeling had gone. It hadn't yet been replaced with the sort of sensations there would be if he was up my pussy. But clearly I recognised that the second part of anal sex had been achieved. He'd taken me through the pain barrier. "It's amazing Ash, truly amazing, there's no pain, nothing." "Oh believe me darling there won't be nothing for long," he muttered as he pulled himself almost out of the passage and then thrust his cock hard back up it. "Oh God," I almost screamed so sudden and sharp was the pain. "Now Christina, this is the real thing, full anal love," he said thickly as he repeated that move several times with each time causing less discomfort. He then began slowly, rhythmically almost and very carefully I noted to fuck me. And yes it hurt, and it stung, and it felt so warm and it felt so tingly, yet it also felt so different and it felt, yes it felt, I realised it felt, well great. Yes at last I was experiencing that unique sensation of having pain and pleasure at the same time, of giving my most precious gift and of gaining that sensation that women so adore of feeling filled to overflowing. He held himself rigid deep in me again as he assumed that slow, relaxed rhythm surging his cock up and down my back passage. He never slammed himself into me or thrust so hard that the slightly underlubricated passageway would feel burning. Nevertheless he moved faster and faster with his cock, his thumb and his fingers so that I was totally inundated with sensations. Simultaneously I was receiving them on my breasts, my nipples, my clitoris, my pussy and my bum. And slowly but wonderfully surely he took me to my orgasm. Then it erupted. Then it burst over me, yes then suddenly, hardly with any warning, it exploded all over me. Of course it was physical, but more than I think I'd ever experienced before was the emotional outlet of feelings. It was like a dam of feelings bursting its banks. I was shuddering, shaking and moaning. It was hard for me to get my breath and my mind was reeling with incoherent thoughts as I almost passed out. Ash's hands were everywhere. He was kissing, licking and chewing at my neck and hair as with a deep, deep grunt and a long, long moan he climaxed. He sent, although I couldn't say I felt it, his semen surging up my anus and he clung to me as he shuddered and convulsed with the relief his ejaculation brought to him. * There was no tearful goodbye or acrimonious break up, we simply drifted apart I guess. We had incompatible life-styles. It was for the best, there was no real future for either of us so a few months after Marbella we stopped seeing each other. He, I assume, moving onto pastures new, me still trying to bring some order and direction to my love and sex lives, yeah right and I'm still trying. Before the split we did anal a few more times and I came to two conclusions. I could see why people do it, but can't say that it's all the physical amazement some claim it to be. It simply physically cannot be due to the lack of the prostate and the low level sensitivity of the skin inside the back passage. No I think there are other considerations that make it a real, enjoyable and essential part of a couple's lovemaking toolkit. It's the togetherness, the trust it requires and the bonding those create. It's the giving of that awesome gift, which can only be matched by a woman agreeing to swallow a man's cum, that makes it so very, very special. So my views have changed. I've taken on board what others had told me and what Ash showed me; what books and now videos and films are tackling. What was once illegal, was generally looked on as a perversion, what some see as being taboo and others as a pretty extreme sex act. But what I now don't see as any of those things. For what I see it as is simply, being fucked up the ass and I quite like it.