Four writers for the price of one blog
Wednesday was the longest day of the week. My staff meetings, Daniel’s extended practice. We always lingered to the last second at breakfast because of it, and rushed out the door in opposite directions to garage and subway.
Today, as I washed the coffee cups in the sink and he put the cream away in the fridge, Dan paused as if remembering something at the last minute.
“Hang on, one sec.” Unlike him not to have Wednesday morning correctly mapped out.
I finished with the cups, sensing more than hearing him return behind me. Before I could turn from the sink, though, his lips were at my ear.
“Don’t move, one moment,” In that voice. So of course I froze, as he kissed my neck and hiked my work suit skirt up with one hand. I looked at the clock, nervously. Wednesday wasn’t a good day for either of us to be late. But I stayed stock still, gripping the sink counter tighter as my leg, thigh, and hip were exposed to the air. With his thumb he hooked my panties and hose and pulled them down. Two fingers of the other hand pushed at my back, telling me to bend.
“Daniel-” I whispered protest while yet obeying his direction
“Sh! This’ll be quick.”
As I lowered over the sink, he moved both hands to pull my underthings down to just below my ass. A pause of one breath was enough for me to start blushing. I wasn’t used to being exposed like this in a power suit, and we were going to be late if this took any longer.
In one quick motion, Dan spread the cheeks of my ass with the fingers of one hand, and nudged something smooth, and hard, and slick-coated against my asshole. I jerked and gasped.
He was pushing, and twsting. Hard glass, warm, perfectly smooth; the slippery tapered tip easily forced its way into me. He pressed, steadily, and not that slowly, stretching the ring of my anus around the expanding width. I groaned quietly, and pushed back into him, arching to take the invasion more easily.
“That’s my slut.” His voice melted me, and I didn’t care about being late. I wanted him to rip the rest of my clothes off and take me there, show me I was his right then. The glass bulb reached its widest point, and my own muscles pulled the last of the plug firmly into place, pulling and settling the mass of it inside me. I was shaking, and full.
Dan motioned me to stand up straight and kissed my neck again as he arranged my clothing to work-readiness. He’d laid a thin pad in my panties, too. He’s thoughtful that way. I was going to need it. With a last squeeze on my hips – in the exact ‘I’m going to fuck the stuffing out of you’ place, he whispered:
“All day. Only I take it out.”
I let out an undignified whine. Unfair. He knew the meetings I was leading today. The interview I was giving. Cruel bastard. My stuffed ass clenched, empty cunt spasming in sympathy and want.
With a light slap on my ass, enough to make me shudder and gulp for breath at the reverberations, he switched completely back.
“Come on! We’ll be late!”
I jumped into motion, but everything is different when you have a plug up your ass.
This Wednesday was going to be much longer than usual.
A little lighter fare, inspired by a blog update on my reader by someone I follow. Not the content, but the title. It was completely unrelated to the storylet above, and dealt with a little blog promotion. The title, though, was “Quick Plug”. So you can see where my mind took it. –M