We whiled away the afternoon partaking in the adorable little town’s amenities. It was, to be sure, quaint as fuck. But this isn’t a travelogue and you’re all like blah blah blah cute town whatever so I’ll cut to the chase.
We arrived back in the room after dinner and Frodo, quite understandably, was tuckered out. We stripped and got into bed and…watched the Food Network. I was doing my best to be good and follow the “sex is not for me” mantra, but he’s so yummy. He announced he was turning in and it seemed like that was going to be that.
But that was not that. What it was was some nice kissing (though, at this point, his stubble was really ripping my face up). I could have left it at a peck. But I might have leaned in a bit. The nice kissing led to him kneading and groping my muscles and that led to me climbing up on top of him and that led to him getting a raging boner. Oh, and did I mention how terribly I wanted a fuck?
Frodo was rubbing the head of his cock up and around my ass crack. I was writhing like the slutty bitch I am. But I was also nervous in that very special way only a committed bottom can be.
“I want to fuck you, Thumper.” Husky, breathy, and lustful.
“Mmmm, I want you to fuck me, Frodo. So badly,” I whined and nibbled at him.
It’s just a fact that having your ass fucked is not as straightforward as all the porno leads one to believe. And it had been several hours since I prepared myself. As much as I wanted to let nature take its course, sometimes its course is awful so I had to put the breaks on for a quick check.
“I’ll be right back…” and I sprung off him, grabbed my kit, and closed myself in the bathroom. Luckily, everything was still in fighting shape and I was back on top of him only a few minutes later, this time with a bottle of silicone lube.
I gave him the lube. He squirted a bit on his hand and rubbed it on his cock. Then he ran his lubed fingers up my crack. They were rough, both in texture and action. I shivered. There was no reason for this to be gentle. He knew it. And I needed this. Deep in my soul was a Frodo’s cock-sized void. It has been there for three and half decades. He knew that, too.
Still on top, I lined his shaft up with my hole and leaned back. I pushed to open my sphincter and slid all the way down as his cock pushed inside me. I am quite positive I moaned or deeply sighed or something but all I remember is thinking, WHY DOES HE HAVE TO LIVE SO FAR AWAY!?
I worked up and down his pole, feeling it slide in and out and force me open. I had very deliberately left my ass alone for more than a week before this trip so it’d be as tight as possible. So he could make it solely his. Imprinted to his shape. I arched my back as far as I could and leaned away from him to bury his manhood as far into me as possible.
Oh. My. God.
There’s that scene in Young Frankenstein. I’m sure we’ve discussed it before. The one where the Monster takes Madeline Kahn in the forest for the first time and she belts out, “Oh, sweet mystery of life, at last I’ve found you…” Yeah, you know what I’m talking about.
I think Frodo was letting me drive in order to grow used to him inside me, but once that was done, he took over. Up on my hands and knees first, pumping hard. Then with my face in the mattress and my ass in the air, his firm hands on my back pushing me down and getting the angle of invasion just right. Every thrust of his hips was just that much harder as he built his head of steam.
When he wanted a new position, he moved me around like the fuck toy I am and I willingly obeyed his every direction, even the unspoken ones. I could sense and feel his needs though my hole and my ass as he shifted his weight for better penetration and how he gripped my shoulders or my neck. Before long, he was pounding me freely, covered in a sheen of sweat as my breath was torn from me and the weight between my legs rocked back and forth.
But he was very tired. And it was late. And no pliant positioning of my ass could find the path for him to come again. He pulled his dick out of me and kneeled between my legs. His hands were back on my ass, feeling it. Perhaps admiring it. His fingers pushed inside me. One, then two. He twisted them, feeling the slick looseness he created. I whimpered and purred. Then he fell back, exhausted.
My entire body was electrified. I had never been more awake in my life. All the nerves in all the tingly places were firing and my balls felt tight and engorged. I wanted to take him back in my mouth right then and suck him off until the sun burned out. But he was done. I had to be content with spooning into him, inert steel pressed into his ass.
And then we talked. For a long time, he humored me. We talked about our lives, from long before and ever since. Our families. Our careers. And that’s when it hit me. I didn’t just love getting fucked by Frodo. I didn’t just love his cock. I loved him. Romantically. And I always had.
Finally, he could keep himself awake no longer. I realized my side of the conversation was dominating and he was down to replying “mmm-hmm” and “yeah” and I may have been a horned up jackrabbit wanting more dick, but I’m not an idiot. I let him go. He was asleep almost instantly.
I was definitely not. Denial can make sleep hard to begin with. “Just got fucked” denial is the worst. I laid there and looked at my phone then put it down and closed my eyes and then looked at the phone again. Eventually, I don’t even know how much later, I did drift off to a fitful sleep. Every time I turned in bed, the heft between my legs would shift and wake me up. I was intensely aware of being locked. Of feeling the residual lube in my ass. Of that freshly fucked feeling.
Literally everything was distracting.