Heat wave daydream time: everything’s melting, including my brain, and there’s very little I can do to conjure blog ideas when I’m sitting in my knickers sweating soup. But yesterday just as I lay down in bed, I had a very powerful horny image. Instead of trying to write that into a proper blog post, I’m just going to write a string-of-consciousness story prompted by that flash-frame idea: him stopping me in the hallway, making me face the wall and arch my back, yanking down my shorts and knickers then roughly lubing me up to get fucked in the ass.
This is a fantasy, it’s very consensual, and in fact it’s at the more consensual end of things I tend to wank about. But the first half has notes of dubious consent so don’t read on if that’s likely to distress you. Also contains: butt plugs, threats of anal as punishment, fetishisation of thick cocks.
It’s the casual/dismissive way he stops me – that’s what I’m focusing on. It isn’t especially planned or premeditated. Just a whim that caused him to nip to the bedroom for lube and grab it from the drawer.
He tells me to put my hands against the wall and arch my back, so I do. He tugs my top up so it exposes my tits, gives them a cursory squeeze like this is an inspection. Then he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of my shorts and pulls them – knickers and all – right down to my ankles.
Appraising me a little, now that I’m exposed, he orders me to spread as wide as I can. I step one leg out of the shorts/knickers on the floor, but for some reason it’s much hotter to me when the clothes stay partially on. Something about the impulsiveness of it. About feeling more used and trashed if they get messed up – smeared with droplets of lube or perhaps even spunk if I’m lucky. So the shorts and knickers remain bunched round the ankle of my other foot.
He squirts a generous helping of lube into his right hand, then smears it roughly onto and inside me. Parting my cheeks, shoving a finger into my ass, then withdrawing to gather more lube before pushing it back in to dispense more. He doesn’t perform these motions in the manner of someone acting out of care – who wants to make sure it doesn’t hurt me when he shoves it in. He’s doing it so that it feels good for him – so he can slide into the taut ring of my ass nice and smoothly. The same way he’d lube up a wank sheath.
Maybe there are a few experimental stretches with his fingers. Perhaps he sticks a thumb in there, pushing hard enough that I let out a little squeak.
When I picture the expression on his face, it’s a semi-bored frown. As if he’s had this idea but isn’t sure whether I’ll be suitable for it. Whether I’ll be…
…bites lip…
…worth the effort.
This is a stream-of-consciousness piece of writing so I’m going to allow myself to detour a little: this attitude is exactly what makes this so arousing to me. This isn’t a fantasy about getting roughly lubed up and then fucked in the ass, it’s a fantasy about being used by someone who isn’t quite sure whether I’ll make it worth his while. It’s hot outside, and the temperature’s climbing inside as well, so getting hard and fucking expends energy. He doesn’t want to waste that energy on a fuck that both of us enjoy – he just wants to lube me up and then dump his cum in whichever hole appeals most at the time.
Perhaps as he shoves in a finger, he murmurs a little. An audible ‘hmm’ that lets me know that I’m being assessed. And that I might – just, if I’m lucky – meet the standard.
I’m trembling with a combination of nerves and anticipation. I think it’s often difficult to sum up this feeling to people who aren’t into fuckplay that verges on consensual non consent. This is a fantasy that happened in my head, so it’s obviously fully consensual, but if the scene were to happen in real life I’d be flushed with simultaneous waves of need and aversion. Wanting desperately to please him and be considered worthy of the fuck, while at the same time desperately hoping that he won’t see the roughest part through. That he’d decide not to push his taut, thick cock into my ass and realise instead that my cunt would please him more. Add to that a frisson of self-challenge: wishing so much I was capable of taking it in the ass as hard as he’d like to give it to me. Wanting it to be easy, so he could do this more often: roughly lube up my ass and then fuck me against a wall whenever the whim crossed his mind.
For now, though, in this fantasy, the threat of anal is hot enough on its own.
He unzips his shorts and pulls them down just enough to let his dick spring free. He’s gripping it in one hand, squirting lube from the bottle with the other. If this were real life I’d have nothing to stare at but the wall – in my mind’s eye I can see the whole scene. Zoom in on the expert touch of his own hands as he lubes up his cock – the shiny-wet liquid pouring out over the tight skin of the head, and the tension in the crook of his cupped fist as he squeezes and slathers it on.
When he pushes it against the entrance, I whimper a little. Wanting to say ‘no’ but daring myself to stay quiet. I am terrified of him fucking me in the ass, but perhaps just as frightened of doing or saying something to break the horny spell in this instance. I want to encourage this casual, dismissive fucking: welcoming and encouraging him when he does stuff like this brings me one step closer to the ‘free use‘ fantasies I genuinely would love to live out in real life.
But.
His cock is thick.
That’s usually a joy, but when it comes to anal it’s definitely a problem. His dick is fat and hard and incredibly difficult to take – even with a lot of lube and prep, I still struggle. The struggle is part of the fun, of course, which is why we keep on trying. But if I’m really really honest with you, although in real life he manages to neatly balance his intense desire to fuck me in the ass with an overriding need to not hurt me, part of what makes the initial daydream image so hot is that he appears to have abandoned the latter completely.
Roughly lubing me up, with not a single care for whether or not I can take it, just a casual whim that he’d like to give it anyway.
Unngh.
Sometimes the problem with fantasising about real people, though, is that the reality of them bleeds through. I’ve had plenty of daydreams about this man where I’ve managed to suspend my disbelief – turn him darker and scarier, then get off on a caricature of who he truly is in real life. But I can’t keep that suspension up for long with this particular fantasy. Maybe it’s about the headspace I’m in, maybe I just need more energy to keep that fourth wall solid – and the heat is sapping my energy. Whatever it is, though, the reality of him shines through.
When he pushes the head of his dick against my ass, I let out a little whimper. He pauses briefly then pushes again – a little more pressure, but not so much that it hurts.
I yelp.
He sighs. Play-acting genuine frustration – like I’m a broken computer that he’ll have to shut down and restart.
“You don’t want this?”
“I… don’t know.”
He holds himself there for a little longer – not pushing, just keeping me pinned against the wall with the promise and the threat of that cock. Says ‘hmm’ again then withdraws. Orders me to ‘stay exactly as you are’ before disappearing to the bedroom.
I don’t normally throw this level of consent in to a wank fantasy. But as I say today I’m in a weird mood, when things are much hotter if they feel a little true. What made this daydream so powerful was that I managed to capture the tone I wanted in him (dismissive, casual, just wanting to make his cock feel good and recognising I was a convenient hole in which to stick it) but without straying too far from reality. So the ending to this story – the part that caused me to pull out my fucktoys and wank two times in a row in the middle of a heatwave – was one which I think might reasonably approximate how this would end in real life.
He returns from the bedroom with a shiny metal butt plug. Tells me:
“Now. I know you can take this, can’t you?”
I look at him, and the plug, and I nod.
“Are you going to take it for me now? Can you be good, just till I come?”
“Yes,” I tell him, with feeling. “I’ll be so good for you.”
“Good girl,” he says, covering the metal plug with lube.
“That’s what I like to hear,” while he’s finding my ass with the tip of it and pushing hard.
The plug slides in and I’m shocked by how swiftly I feel full and stretched – pinned in place by the sudden intensity of feeling, and the desire to do exactly what I’m told.
“Good girl,” he tells me again, then grunts as he finally enters. “It makes your cunt so much tighter.”
Why not, eh? A few links to metal butt plugs if you’re in the mood. This post isn’t sponsored but I do like to occasionally remind you that this site is in part supported by lovely companies who help me keep the filth flowing. Buying from them gets me kudos and helps everything stay afloat.
- Aluminium anal plug from Meo.de – I picked this one cos it looks really comfortable and brilliantly-shaped.
- Silver heart-shaped butt plug from Pleasure Garden – not just because there’s something degrading about how cute this is (I am a perv, sorry), but because the base is noticeably and obviously wider than the plug itself which calms my nerves. Code GOTN10 for 10% off anything on their site.
- Black gem anal plug set from WhippleTickle – my favourite butt plug is no longer for sale anywhere, but these ones look similar in that they have long necks which I find way more comfortable. Code GOTN10 for 10% off anything on their site.