“I know it’s a little bit late to ask,” she said, turning her head, “but have you been tested for all the usuals? It’s just that…”
“Yes, I have, about nine months ago, and there’s no chance I could have had any… um contact… with a new partner… since then”
“Good. I just got tested with my err… ex-boyfriend. I don’t like the constraints of safe sex… but… Aaaaaahhhhh… Who wants to die from… Mmmmm… a shag?”
I distracted her with my tongue, poking it rudely into her rosebud. I lubed her a little with my spit, and then oiled the tube with baby oil. I loved the way her arsehole clenched and relaxed as I fed the pipe into her bowels.
I could feel the pull on the tube, helping it to go deeper. I noticed that her pussy could do that too. I sensed she worked out more internally than externally.
By divine chance, it seemed that I had stumbled on the woman of my dreams!
The tube slid deeper and deeper. At one-point Chioma reached back, and guided it for a moment, sighing as her alterations enabled it to enter her for several more inches. It had reached its destination.
I opened the tap and began to gently squeeze the bag. The warm water and baby oil blend coursed into her body, tickling and tickling its way into her bowels. I could tell she enjoyed it. She played restlessly with her pussy and clit as I squeezed more and more of the liquid into her. I saw her shudder and heard a soft moan… it would be seeping into her colon… up into her belly. More… she raised herself on one hand, back-arching, fingers plucking at erect nipples.
A little more… over a liter… I felt her stomach. It was bulging. I eased the last of the enema into her and turned off the tap. Chioma tensed her anus tightly and seemed to hold her breath for a long moment, finger blurring on her clit. She began to tremble and whine. I read her.
Yes, I can always read Chioma. I smoothly eased the tube from her bowels and guided her to the toilet bowl.
With an ecstatic cry of pain and pleasure, Chioma let it all leave her, in an explosive rush. She shuddered, shook, went limp for a moment, and pulled herself together, then calmly got on with it, and cleaned up. In the shower, we made ourselves be patient, though soaping her and being soaped was a sore trial.
She led me by my dick into the bedroom, sat down on the edge of the bed, and took me in her mouth. So naturally, so sexy matter of factly that I had to laugh. She looked up, grinning through a mouthful of dick.
“Last Tuesday, I imagined you just like that when I had a wank, after work,” I told her. It wouldn’t shock her.
“So did I,” Chioma coughed, and a muffled giggle set us off again.
“Just out of curiosity, when I found you in the office that evening… what were you really doing?”
“I… I was having a sex chat… and looking at porn… I was… getting… fisted… online!” She said between sucks.
“I thought as much.”
“I don’t think… I’ve ever been… so embarrassed! I was so close… to cumming… when you… appeared!” She laughed onto my dick. I felt her mouth around me, so warm and skillful. I closed my eyes for a few moments and enjoyed.
“I want you to play with my ass, Lenny. Do whatever you want with it.” She purred when she came up for air again.
I was staggering on the brink of orgasm… I clenched hard to save myself. Something worth saving myself for. I recovered by pushing her away from my dick. I pulled her up, and then we both clambered onto the big bed. A wide-open space of sexual intent.
“Let’s not rush this… we’ve got plenty of time,” I said.
I brought out a wooden box from under the bed and gave it to her. It was about two feet long, six inches deep, like a specimen case. She unsnapped the clasps and lifted the lid. Her smile widened, and her eyes burned happily as she looked at the contents.
Several dildos, a couple of butt plugs, and a rubber fist clenched, the size of a woman’s hand brought little cries and wows of surprise from Chioma’s mouth. There was also a fresh bottle of lube. Chioma bit her lip, and ran her fingers over the collection, pausing at the fist. She looked up at me, and I could see an expression that I would soon come to know so clearly. She wanted to be fisted.
And with Chioma, I quickly learned that if no one else was available, she was quite happy to service herself!
“God, I’d love one of those!” She said, picking it up, sniffing it… “It’s a problem when I’m fisting myself… I can’t get as far in as I’d like… one of these… I could steer it!” She shook it. The fist rocking on its flexible wrist.
I had bought it for a girlfriend, but she left it with me when she returned to Ghana and her husband.
“Well, why don’t you two get acquainted…” I picked up one of the weed I had rolled while she was alone in the bathroom. “And while you’re doing that, let’s get high,” I said, flicking the lighter.
What heaven, to smoke weed while the woman who turns you on more than any other living creature lays back against the pillows, spreads her thighs, and starts to trickle lube over her pubic hair.
I lit up and took a long drag. My free hand lightly stroked my dick, which was hard, but comfortable. I moved over, and shared puffs of the spliff with Chioma, while she played with herself, pulling her fleshy outer lips apart, fingering deep with fingers from both hands, then pulling her inner lips open…
A few moments later she was clasping the rubber arm, holding the fist to her open-blossomed vulva, and rubbed its knuckles over the slippery membranes. She let go a long-held lungful of weed smoke and lifted one leg. The clenched fist was suddenly swallowed. Her leg dropped, trapping the fist, and a wicked smile played over her lips. Phenomenal!
It was all I could do not to tear out the toy, and replace it with the real thing, but I was deliciously conscious that we had prepared for anal pleasure, new ground, and this was just a prelude, a delicious little display that obviously felt as good for her as it looked to me.
“Mmmm… it’s a lovely toy, but I still prefer the real thing,” she purred, lightly fucking herself while inhaling more weed. She passed the last centimeter of the weed back to me. I took one more hit and crushed it.
“Here’s a thought…” I said, suddenly inspired. “Rollover… squat down onto the fist… I want to try something…”
Would Chioma take directions?
No problem, she rolled over, keeping the fist inside, and braced the ‘elbow’ end of it on the bed. It wiggled and squished a bit, but it looked great.
I lubed up my dick and crouched behind Chioma’s round, slippery ass. Oil had spilled from her cunt in quantity. I pressed my rigid dick into the soft, tightness of the rosebud, and thrust, with a steady, constant strength.
“Milk my dick into your ass, Chioma.”
“Ahh… ahhh… mmmmm… ahhh… like that?”
“Yesssss… Just like that… Jesus… where did you learn that?!”
She was sucking my dick in, first in millimeters, then centimeters… then in one awesome swoop, the last three inches of my eight-inch shaft entered her ass, which then clamped tight around it. She was fiery hot inside, and I could feel the hard, shifting the shape of the rubber fist, which she was still working a little in her puss.
“I want to use my own fist… I want to really feel you inside me…” Chioma moaned, upping the temperature another couple of degrees. We were both pretty high, sensual waves swilling between us; our utter freedom with each other’s desires was like a drug in its own right. I pulled my dick slowly out, Chioma clasping it rhythmically as it departed.
She eased out the rubber fist, rolled for a moment to get comfortable, and then fed her own hand into herself. To do so, she lightly closed her fingers, a little twist to set the lips right, and then a loose, graceful thrust took her hand halfway in. A lift of her left leg – this seemed to be a special movement with her, a little key. I would remember it – and it was all the way in, to the end of the wrist.
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