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It was his idea, kind of…
Someone had brought it up as a joke at a party, months ago. In that way edgy idiots think anything outside of mainstream sex is scandalous, and therefore worthy of derision. Someone making fun of someone for something or whatever comment when she had felt him stiffen at her side. The rigidity of a touched nerve, of a joke that wasn't a joke to him, a realization of ‘ no wait actually…’ .
Bog with a faint blush and straight spine with his arm wrapped around her shoulders. That was the beginning. Pegging .
Marianne had been all for it, before and after she realized he was serious. Even if he had been sidestepping the actual asking, or discussion of it. So she had hauled him reluctantly to the local sex shop, bought the harness, the dildo, the lube- everything while Bog stood behind her flushed, embarrassed and sullen . The cashier didn't so much as blink an eye before sending them on their way. After one awkward conversation, they set aside one evening, showered and settled in their cramped bedroom.
“ Please” the low keening moan wormed it out of his throat. He was on his knees and elbows on the bed, Marianne settled between his ankles on her own knees behind him.
She ignored that fluttery feeling low in her stomach. Ignored the ache between her legs- because this was about him, not about how nice his ass looked presented in front of her. Bog had been confident enough when he agreed, despite the foot shuffling and awkwardness.
But now, face down and getting fucked in the ass he was downright shy- sheepish- embarrassed even. It was hot, fucking delicious, to watch him so bashful and flustered. The arch of his back, the swell of his ass as he strained further up into her touch, deliciously self-conscious and desperate.
Just a gentle touch, a single lubed finger against his hole. And yeah, maybe the way he pushed back into it, straining against one single touch, was really, really fucking hot. And maybe it wasn't just for him anymore. Because that was definitely doing something for her. The feel of the harness, straps looped around her thighs, low on her hips and below her ass. A constant reminder of what was to come. Really fucking did something for her.
She tutted and hushed him through it. At his strangled embarrassed sounds, every time he strained against her fingers. Each moan, whimper and filthy sound.
” fuck,” he whimpered into the pillow that he grasped roughly under his chin
“ fuck fuck fuck”
”That is-“ She pressed a finger, slowly knuckle deep into him, “-Kind of the whole point” she smiled, leaning forward and pressing a kiss into the swell of his ass. He had offered to shave, but she brushed it off, as long as he was clean she didn't mind the hair. He grumbled something, and huffed at the teasing, being essentially told off. Instead of rising to his bait, she pressed a second finger alongside the first. In response, Bog gave another long low groan. A deliciously broken sound- a whorish moan from a usually so reserved man.
By the time she had managed to stretch him enough for 3 fingers Bog was a mess. Filthy moans, a mess of panting and begging. Despite the ache in her own hand- the cramp of fingers working against a too-tight ring of muscle, she persevered. Hooking her fingers downwards- knowing what it would do to him. Her fingers brushed his prostate, that sweet spot she knew would drive him insane. She watched his cock bob between his legs. Neither of them had even bothered to touch it. He shuttered and ground back against her nonetheless. Between her racing heat and his chanted begging of ‘please, please, Marianne, please’ he was ready enough and Marianne wasn't so cruel to make him wait any longer.
Rising to her knees she pressed the tip of the strapon against Bogs hole.
“You're doing so well, ” she said, soothing him “ so good Bog. Look at how well you take it” He moaned in response, that mix of preening and embarrassed.
“Dont-” she hissed as Bog pushed back against the dildo, “- fuck, don't move”
He stilled as she finally moved. Watching the tip of the shiny purple silicon disappear. It wasn't much bigger than her three fingers together but by the way Bog reacted it might as well have been a cock as big as his own cock. Acted like it was equivalent to his just over eight inches instead of the barely 5 it was. She stayed still and gave him time to adjust.
It was new for both of them, despite how much he seemed to want more of it-as fast as he could get it– a sentiment Marianne would happily comply with if one of them didn't need to be responsible one.
“ More” his voice was wrecked, worse than when he’d just woken up, gargling glass shards or gravel as he called it. Rubbing her palms gently over his ass he settled into her touch.
“ I can take it. More, please…” he insisted, accent thick.
She rocked forward again, another inch disappearing.
She knew it was playing dirty. Objectively, it was underhanded to take advantage of his languid form. That didn't stop her from taking one hand away from his ass and running her nails delicately down his spine. The reaction was nearly violent. The speed he buckled, went limp under her, rocking fully backwards taking the length of the strapon in a smooth motion until his ass came to rest against her hips. His back fully bowed, chest firmly against the towel on the mattress, that he had insisted needed to be laid down. His arms stretched out passive, fingers brushing the headboard– grasping absently for anything to anchor himself.
“Fuck” The bark of almost laughter escaped him and Marianne couldn't help but chuckle. That hadn't been the plan, she'd want to go slow, and take care of him, but it seemed to be that they both enjoyed it far more than expected.
Giving small exploratory thrusts she settled into a slow rhythm. Careful of the fact the dildo firmly buried in him was not connected to her nervous system. She settled on slow rocking motions, awkward and unfamiliar, but fuck if it didn't seem to work. The scooping motion of her hips was not something she was accustomed to. But her awareness of the awkward movements faded as the gentle slapping sound as she fucked him echoed around them.
Each thrust drew a broken huffed moan. A cacophony of wanton and lewd indulgence Marianne would be haunted by until her end days. Her hands on his hips gave enough leverage to rock the length of the strapon from base to tip with each thrust. It was filthy to watch. What she imagined Bog saw every time he fucked her.
But this– the newness, indecency of it. His debauched moans, her thrusts punctuated with curses of her own. From the stretching ring of his hole, the shine of lube on the purple silicone, the burn of her muscles with each thrust. It was filthy, deliciously filthy. He was getting close. The shaking, broken sounds growing more and more keening.
She decided it was time to end it. With some maneuvering, she pulled him from the mattress into her lap. Kneeling, legs settled just outside of hers, backs of his thighs settled against the tops of hers. It was slightly awkward but, fuck, did it work . With his knees and ankles on the outside of hers, his back pressed against her chest. Her hands wrapped lazily around his chest. He was in essence riding her, doggy but settled on knees only, essentially spooning him.
She let him pick the rhythm, the barest of movements, with the silicone cock settled completely inside him. The chorus of shallow moans and breaths was beautiful. Unabashed enjoyment now that he was too far gone to remember to be embarrassed. She was certain if she could see his face it would be slack with enjoyment, a rare treat for Bog to be so relaxed.
In the end, Bog was undone the moment they started, even more so when Marianne loosely- lazily looped her fingers around his cock. He made a wounded sound and a half-aborted motion to take her hand away as if the sensation was too much, too sensitive. Instead, he intertwined his fingers with hers and matched his shallow thrusts with their shallow strokes.
His shuttering cry as he came was a thing of beauty. With a hoarse shout. Shaking in her lap, despite his height he seemed slight in her lap, wispy and small. Draped backwards in her arms as he shook and rode out the intense orgasm grinding backwards on the strapon.
She stroked him gently, coaxing the orgasm out of him, wringing it out of him really. The mess of cum smeared against their fingers, she kissed his shoulder and held him close.
It was an awkward few moments, shuffled movements as they split apart. Carefully she pulled out of him, talking him through it. He was languid, more relaxed than she had seen him, slumped on the bed by the time she returned with a warm cloth. Cleaning his cock of the mess of cum, and the lube off his ass she pulled the blankets back for him to crawl under.
He made a move to run his fingers over her clit, meaning to return the favour. As much as Marianne would have liked to, he was far too fucked out to manage more than a token effort. Instead, she took his hand and settled it against his chest. Moved herself to wrap around his back. The gentle warmth of his relaxed body was comforting as she let him come down from the intensity of it.
“So, we’ll do that again sometime?”