This is the final installment in this series. The first three of these stories are here:
I was still panting from the last orgasm when he reached up onto the back of the couch and picked the thick clear dildo for our next experiment. He grabbed a condom and wrapped it tightly over the toy, and sat there looking at me for a minute.
“How are you feeling? Good?”
“Oh yeah. That was awesome. I’m still catching my breath.”
“Hmm, you need time? I’m not sure you do.”
“You’re not sure, eh?” As I responded, he was already rubbing the dildo up and down across my slit.
“No, I think you’re ready now.”
He pushed the head of the thick long cock inside me and I gasped. He smiled. As he likes to remind me, he usually does know best. He pulled it out, and slathered some more of the slick lube on both me and the toy. He rubbed his hand up and down, soothing me, stoking up the fires gently. I am always a little wary when he is too gentle, it’s often a sign of things to come- I know they will get hard and fast.
Sure enough, he quickly switched back to the toy and pushed it all the way in. I was impaled by this thick 10 inch rubber dick and he flashed me that maniacal Sex Scientist grin. He stopped, holding it all the way in, and asked, “How is that?”
For whatever reason, right then I was feeling a little sassy, and I answered him cheekily, “Eh, it’s ok.” But the panting of my breath gave me away and he shook his head.
“Just ok?” He pushed it in even further and I groaned.
“Yeah, I can take it.”
“Oh, I know you can take it.” He pushed in again, now the suction cup base was buried in my pussy lips. He used his knuckles to slowly press it into me and allowed my body to push it back out, before he slowly pushed it in, deeper each time.
“And now?” He taunted me. He could hear my breathing, he knew I couldn’t answer. I wiggled my hips and moaned. Talking was not in the plan just then. He kept smiling. He liked that I’d reached the point where I couldn’t speak, but he still expected me to let him know how things were going. (This was our first time using these toys and his Sex Scientist brain was still trying to find out what worked and how far he could go with each. He cataloged this information to use it
against for me next time.) He pulled it out and this time when he pushed it back in, he changed the angle.
“UNGH” I gasped.
“Ah, yes. This is a good angle I see.”
He continued to press up and in, quickly pumping it in and out. I was enjoying the sensations, the cock is thick enough to fill me nicely and deep enough to push my limits. But I could tell he was toying with me. He was playing a game, like a cat plays with his prey. He brought me close to the edge, pulled back, and took a short rest, or changed the angle each time before I could come.
He kept me on the edge, and I let him. I laid there and relaxed even more. I leaned into every sensation, every plunge, every pull, and I enjoyed the feelings. I enjoyed the physical filling sensations and I enjoyed the connection. I enjoyed knowing how my Sex Scientist operates. I knew I was going to be here for a while. This was going to be a long night and I needed to conserve my energy, two can play at this game.
Before I could get too smug though, he stopped completely. I was rudely jolted out of my reverie. He pulled the toy out and said, “I think that’s enough for now. Smoking?”
I nodded my head yes, some weed would be nice. I went to the bathroom, while he refilled our water glasses, and packed the bong for us. I came back to the couch and sat cross legged next to him. He pulled on the huge bong and we leaned towards each other. I touched his thigh lightly and he held my arm when he blew the smoke into my mouth. I never got the hang of smoking from this huge bong; besides, I love the intimacy of his lips, just millimeters from mine, transferring the magic smoke that makes us feel so good.
He nodded and tapped my leg, ready to start again. I laid back against the arm of the couch, got my ass comfortable on the pillows, and spread my legs. He swiveled and sat again crossed-legged in front of me. I draped my calves over his knees and allowed my legs to relax back and spread even wider. I wondered what he was up to next, but I didn’t have to wait very long.
He leaned over and pulled the red silicon fist dildo from the top of the couch. This is the toy that made my pussy clench when he first sent me the photo to make the purchase. The one I was most scared to try, most interested to try, most ashamed that I wanted to try. And now, it was there in his hands. I am sure he felt my legs trembling, because he grinned that Sex Scientist grin and asked me, “Ready?”
I just gulped and nodded in response. He grabbed the fisting gel and applied it generously to my already dripping labia. He lovingly stroked my wet folds, slowly moving his hand up and down, getting everything nice and slick. He pressed two fingers inside me, angled up and motioned come hither up into my g-spot. He pulled them back out before I could get too excited and added even more lube.
When he just dipped the fist dildo directly into the gel and covered it with the slimy liquid, I knew I was in trouble- again. As he pressed the end of the dildo into me, he said, “Now this is something new for both of us and I can’t feel what’s happening like I usually can, so be sure to tell me if it doesn’t feel right.” I nodded my agreement. (He also wants to know what feels good, but when it feels that good, I can’t actually speak. I would recall the especially good bits later, when we were curled up together in the afterglow of our orgasms.)
The fist pressed in. At first he intentionally didn’t push and pull, in and out. He just slowly pressed, and pressed, and pressed. He moved it inside me until it was at the widest part of the silicon red knuckles and then held it there, holding me open, stretching me. He watched my face as I became aware of all the sensations. He pressed just a tiny bit more, he knows if I am ready and I want more, I’ll lift my hips up and make him give it to me. I am not quite ready though, it feels so good, this fullness, this stretching; I want to feel it for a little longer. He reaches out and rubs my swollen clit. Again that sexy grin forms on his face, “You’re pretty excited aren’t you?”
“Oh yeah,” I managed to gasp.
Then he did something he doesn’t often do, he leaned over and started gently licking my folds. He avoided the clit until the very end. I am sure the surprise, as well as the pleasure of the act, is what made me push my hips up hard and take the rest of the fist inside me. As soon as he reached my sensitive nub, I bucked my hips up and enjoyed the awareness as it slipped the rest of the way in. He sat up and grinned. “Nice. Good.” He never calls me ‘Good Girl’ but that’s what I heard in my head and I got even hotter.
He grabbed the poppers bottle and handed it to me. I could tell from this and the way his face and breathing were changing that this night wasn’t going to have any more gentle moments. He was ready for fast, furious, and wet and so was I. He started fucking me with the fist, harder and harder. I could feel the sensations building up inside me. It always feels like a spring is filling from somewhere inside me. I can feel the buildup across my stomach and into the top of my pubic bone. I knew if I just relaxed, and if he kept fucking me exactly like that, I was going to squirt all over us.
Of course, that is exactly what happened. He pulled it out just at the right moment and I gushed hot liquid all over our legs. He threw the toy aside, no longer satisfied with the lack of our skin touching. He lubed up again and replaced the dildo with his own hand. I loved it. He had more control, more command with his hands. He knows my body so well that it didn’t take long before he had me squirting over and over, calling out, moaning, writhing.
He got up on his knees, lifted my hips up, and pushed himself into my ass with one deep plunge. He had been lubing it up and pressing his fingers in to prepare me, the whole time we were playing. We were both gasping. We each took one last drag on the poppers and it was if time stood still. He was fucking me so hard, my body was bouncing back and forth. I was watching his face as it changed. His hair fell down into his eyes, and I saw the moment he changed from the Sex Scientist to the Sex Machine.
There was no longer me, there was no longer Stefan, there were just bodies, moving, feeling, taking. In the taking we gave. We released our minds and anything that held us back and were now one primal being, moving together to get the most pleasure we could from one another. I was screaming and moaning, each thrust causing a gasp and cry. He was moaning and his breathing hard and fast. When he leaned down to kiss me, our lips nearly touching, our mouths too dry to do much more than gasp breath into each other, I couldn’t take it anymore.
Suddenly, while he was pumping wildly, I was squirting. I have never done that while we were fucking before. The hot wet release surprised me so much I laughed. I laughed even more when with each thrust of his hips, the liquid was splashed back onto me, hitting my breasts, and my face with wet drops of the increasingly cool liquid. He looked down, surprised at my outburst, and his rhythm was a little shaken, but his need was too strong and he was pulled back into the moment, dragging me with him.
Finally together, we orgasmed. His body spasmed over mine, mine spasmed under him. My laughter turned to tears, then to full on sobbing. He kept pumping until he expelled every last bit of liquid from his hard cock and then lay, spent, on top of me. I wrapped my legs around his hips and my arms around his hot sweaty body and we laid entwined together in the mess of liquids. Our bodies touched in every place we could make them touch. Breathing heavily into each others shoulder, my tears drenched his hair, but the weight of his body comforted me and the sobbing slowed.
My orgasms with him are always so intense, the crying is something we’re both used to by now. He held me until I started to wipe them away and only then did he release me. He slowly pulled out and sat up. He kept his hand firmly on my thigh, looking at me to be sure I was ok before he got up to get us towels to clean up.
When he came back, I was still laying there, arm across my forehead, breathing slowly and deeply, but smiling.
“That was pretty good eh?” He gave me that wicked grin I can never resist.
“Uh, yeah, you think?”
“Those were pretty good purchases. I think we’ll have some fun with these!”
Oh. Yes. We. Will.
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