A Randy Retirement Pt. 29: Anya

He walked again toward her rear, his fingers playing along her side until he spanked her hard on the butt. Anya flinched and squealed, the fire in her stretched shoulders building.

"I guess you know these are rails," he said, coming back alongside her, "That's because I'm going to rail you in them," and he laughed softly.

"Mmmhph," she cried out again.

Her body twitched hard when she felt something pinch her right nipple. She looked down and saw that there was a silver clothespin dangling from it and she howled as best she could as she watched his arm reach across and put another one on her left nipple.

She lost contact with him then, the pain radiating from her breasts taking her attention until she felt the head of his cock spread her labia and fill her womb totally. It was the feeling she had come back to North Carolina for. The feeling that she had only gotten with Randy.

True to his word, he railed her, pounding her until she came.

"That's one!" he said loudly, her cries of need the only reply. He continued without a break until she had two more, but those three were only the preliminaries. Anya was building up to a big one and Randy thought at that moment that he wasn't getting into her ass tonight, despite his desire.

Her bondage notwithstanding, Anya began to fuck him back. She knew there was a big one out there as well, and despite the ache of her predicament she pushed through in search of it.

When the big one arrived, it consumed her and she twisted her body in the railings trying to free herself. The fact that she couldn't only enhanced her orgasm and sent sparks shooting through her head as she moaned unrelentingly.

Because of the sight, sound, and feel of her orgasm, Randy lost it and any shot at her ass; pulling out and holding his cock like a garden hose as it spurted load after load on her back and buttocks.

When he released Anya from her bonds, he glanced at the clock. They had been fucking for eighty minutes.

"I want a bath," she declared as he helped her down from the rails, his cum covering almost half her body.

"The only bathtub is in the guest room," he informed her.

Anya took a step, a little unsteady, and Randy held out a hand, which she took. She pulled on it, "You're coming with me."

"What?" he asked playfully.

"Don't argue, you're taking a bath with me."

Randy wrapped her in his arms, his sperm sticking them together as he ushered her ahead of him. Anya began to giggle softly like a schoolgirl.

"I've never seen this part of the house before," she said as he led her to the guest room nearest the front door. "We always pass it, but I've never really seen it."

"No, you haven't. It's round, like the living room, just on the opposite corner. Two bedrooms and a shared bath," and he opened the door and extended his hand for Anya to enter. The bedroom had a club chair, dresser and mirror, and a queen bed. There was a flatscreen television on the wall and one window that looked out onto the walkway to the front door and the driveway to the garage. A large walk-in closet had plenty of unused space, plus towels, washcloths, and fresh sheets.

He took her through to a smaller room that held the toilet and vanity.

"Both rooms are the same?" she asked.

"Yes, each is the obverse of the other," and he opened the last door to the shared bathroom.

He could tell she was smiling, even with her back to him as she entered, just by the slope of her shoulders. There was an ordinary sized shower stall to her right, but on the left was an oversized bathtub, oval in shape and set into the corner.

"This is big enough for both of us!" she exclaimed, turning to him. She turned the taps to start the water running and asked him out of the blue, "How do you always have so much cum?"

"Vitamins," was his one-word reply.

"How come I never see you take 'em?"

"Could you see the wind when it was showing your tits a while ago?"

"No, but I could see the effec ..." and her voice trailed off without finishing the sentence. "Oh, you're good."

Randy smiled and said, "Just because you don't see something, Anya, that doesn't mean it doesn't exist ... or happen; especially when the effect of that something is right there in front of you."

"Prove it," she responded, pulling his hand. "Get in with me and cum in my ass."

It was an offer that Randy could not pass up, given that he had missed out back at the rails, and he nodded his assent.

"Do you have any bubble bath?"

"Well, it's not exactly the kind of thing I'd use, but someone may have left some on the shelves over there," and he pointed to the area along the curved outer wall.

She picked out something in a large plastic jar, taking three or four of the balls held within it and dropping them into the filling tub. Almost immediately suds began to form, and she looked to him and smiled. She got in, seating herself in the corner nearest the faucet and nodded her head for Randy to join her.

When he didn't, she asked, "What's wrong?"

"What? Oh nothing. I was just trying to remember the last time I took a bath."

"And?"

Randy laughed, "And I can't remember."

He got in, seating himself with his back to the open room and she put her legs outside of his as the water rose. When the bubbles got to just above her breasts, she turned the faucet off. They were seemingly floating on a cloud, actually a swath of bubbles, as she giggled at him and began to wash herself with the washcloth that had been on the side of the marble tub.

Anya took her time, some fifteen minutes, and when she had finished, she threw the wet cloth toward him.

Ignoring it, Randy moved toward her, coming to his knees, and lifted her right leg up and over the side. Anya had to put an arm up and hold on to keep from sliding under and as she did Randy pinned her back by the throat.

"Don't move."

Forcefully, his hand dove under the suds and found her snatch. He began to fingerbang her hard. Her eyes immediately found him and pleaded with her mouth hung open. The bath water splashed, prompted by the movement of his forearm as he put a third finger inside and continued his assault on her pussy.

When Randy had her ready to cum and at the mercy of his hand he pulled back, letting go of her throat and returning to his end of the tub.

Anya was panting and sniffled as she tried to modulate her breathing. She turned in place and got on her knees, put her forearms on the edge, and wiggled her bubble-covered ass at him.

Searching around his body, Randy found the washcloth and went back to her, using it the rinse off her butt. Her thighs were together, squeezing her gaped pussy, the labia red from the all the railing and fingerbanging. Anya's anus stared at him, the skin around it slightly brown and deep in the cleft of her cheeks.

Randy rose and pushed inside, the seal to her rectum giving up without a fight as she looked back and sighed.

He started at a snail's pace but steadily picked up speed until he was pounding her thighs against the porcelain side of the tub, her lungs struggling to keep up with each mighty thrust of his cock as the water thrashed.

She orgasmed just as his pounding reached its zenith, collapsing against the tub as her only means of support as Randy withdrew and turned her around. His hand on his dick, he pumped out his seed onto her body and face. Each time he spurted, Anya squealed in delight, until he was done and settled in the middle of the tub on his butt.

She came to sit on his lap and kissed him deeply, her smallish breasts brushing his chest. Randy reached past her to turn on the water and pulled the lever to empty the tub. Then he switched on the small, handheld sprayer and began to rinse the bubbles away.

As they dressed later in his bedroom, he told her they were having ribs for supper and asked how hot she liked her sauce.

"A little sweet heat, but not too much," she replied, taking an electric toothbrush out of her luggage and heading for the master bath.

He had thrown on a pair of khaki dress shorts and a polo and headed out to light the grill, leaving Anya in just a thong and looking tasty as she bent over the sink and cleaned her teeth.

When she joined him on the grill patio just outside the kitchen, she had exchanged the thong for a modest bikini bottom in black with a black and creme halter top that looked like one of those little bibs you got at a lobster restaurant. It took Randy only a moment to realize the top was not black and creme, but rather black mesh and the creme coloring was Anya's skin. He did a double take and gained a laugh from her.

Using a clear plastic squirt bottle, one like you would find ketchup or vinegar in at a country diner, he put sauce on the ribs, the smell inviting. Anya sat on the counter nearby with a glass of red wine and asked for a cigarette.

Picking up a brush to work in the sauce, he spoke without looking at her, "Look behind you." She turned and found a fresh pack and lighter on the counter next to the wall and helped herself.

Blowing out the first inhalation, she told him, "I know I've told you before that some of the food you've made for me was delicious, but you really cook pretty good for a single guy. One doesn't find that often."

"Matter of survival," he noted as he closed the grill top.

She snickered, "No one cooks for you?"

"Only in restaurants," and he wiped his hands on a dishtowel and turned, leaning over to her with his hands planted on the counter to each side of her bare thighs.

"It's our last night," she started, then took a long drag and never finished, letting the implication hang there between them.

Randy's mind had been pre-occupied with that exact thought for a lot of the day. He wanted to come up with something that a high-mileage whore like Anya would not soon forget and a thought had been niggling around in the back of his mind. It was almost complete, but needed one more major part to be truly spectacular.

"I know. I got it covered," he told her confidently, even as part of his brain searched for the final piece of the puzzle.

The ribs were fall-off the bone tender and succulent, and he served them with some mustard potato salad he had bought at the high-end grocery. They finished up with cut strawberries and whipped cream and it was during the dessert that he hit upon something he thought would do the trick.

They retired to the patio again so he could clean the grill and she sat on the counter and smoked as they let their supper settle a bit.

When he was finished, he came to her and palmed her ass on the counter.

"Are you ready?" he asked her, their foreheads touching while his hands pressed her pert buttocks.

"Yes," was her answer, delivered with an air of desire as her tongue played with her teeth.

They headed for the playroom, the only detour being when Randy stopped to get an new squirt bottle from the pantry. The bottles held 12 ounces and came in packs of three. He had bought a pack for each house and was happy that he had hit upon a new use for them, making a mental note to buy two more packages.

Anya's eyebrows raised and Randy told her, "You'll see, you little wench," and she laughed at his use of the word.

Once there he went to the storage area and got a big bottle of lube and filled the squirt bottle. When he turned back to her, she had undone the clasp at the back of her top and held the ends straight out to her sides. She stood there giving him a seductive grin.

Nonchalantly he told her, "Go ahead and take that off, the bottoms too. I'm gonna give you something that you'll always remember me by."

She followed his direction without question, running the tip of her tongue across her upper lip as she often did.

Randy set out a pair of bondage cuffs with leather straps and the squirt bottle, he then went to the closet and dragged out an old gaming seat. It had no legs and would sit on the floor and rock, but not tip over. It had a thick cushioned back and seat; Randy having modified it by putting bondage cuffs on top of the back.

"Sit down," he told her.

Anya did as instructed, joking as she planted her naked ass in the seat, "Are we gonna play video games?"

"Somethin' like that. Put your hands together and extend your arms straight out in front of you."

When she had completed her task, Randy took her right ankle and bent it back behind her head, Anya groaning as he secured it with one of the cuffs a the top of the seat. He repeated the action with her left leg and the movement slid her ass down until it was just hanging off the edge. He patted the bottom of her bare feet when he finished, each of them being just wider and higher than her head.

Randy then wrapped each of her wrists into a cuff and used attached leather straps on each cuff to connect them to a recessed ring in the floor on either side of her. This stretched her arms across the back of her upturned legs right below her knee joints and spread them wide with just a hint of slack.

"Oh shit," she murmured as she tested the bondage. Anya could rotate her forearms completely, but that was about it.

As she watched him, Randy stripped naked, his cock standing straight out from his body like the bowsprit on a sailing ship. He went and put a black cockring on and then picked up the squirt bottle. He put the plastic bottle on the floor in front of her and then stood, shaking his hand with forefinger extended as if he just remembered something.

"Don't go nowhere, I'll be right back," he told her with a devious smile and left.

Anya exhaled in exasperation, the wiggle of her toes and the rotation of her forearms being the only movement she could summon.

When he returned, he kept his right hand behind his back and knelt on both knees before her sex. Reaching out with his left hand he inserted two fingers into her pussy, turned his palm up, and dug for her G-spot. He worked it for several minutes as she began to moan, Randy keeping his right hand hidden.

"Feel good?" he asked, almost absently.

"Yesss," she cooed, trying to gyrate her hips with her eyes closed.

He removed his hand and she sighed, but the cooing renewed when he put it right back in, this time with three fingers. He put a little lube from the bottle into the palm of his upturned hand and let it run down inside her; then reached back behind him to reacquire whatever it was that he was keeping hidden.

It was at that point Anya heard a sharp buzzing sound and her eyes opened. Without forewarning, his right hand appeared holding her electric toothbrush and she began to squirm, her face showing concern.

Randy had turned it so the plastic back of the tip was the part he used as he began to massage her clit with it.

Instantly she bellowed, her torso moving toward him until the strain from her legs being behind her head stopped it.

"Oh god Randy," she squealed and then bellowed again as he pressed the toothbrush deeper into her clit. His fingers were now working overtime inside her.

"You want me to continue?" he asked as he slipped the tip of the toothbrush to the other side of her clit.

"Pleasssss!" she groaned, her voice now deep and detached.

It was sensory overload and Randy watched as her eyes signaled her surrender. They fluttered and then rolled back, her mouth hanging open. From that moment, until he finally released her, Anya never uttered another intelligible syllable, though sound came from her mouth the entire time. Much like Halley sometimes did, she spoke in unknown tongues.

Her forearms rotated, each hand in a tight fist as her arms strained, the continual tortured groaning adding flavor to her tensed muscles as she came the first time, her toes fluttering above her head.

Randy removed his left hand as he brought the toothbrush underneath her clit and ran it along its length. He picked up the squirt bottle and pressed the tip into the gape of her cunt, emptying half of it inside her womb.

When his hand returned, he slipped his pinkie finger inside with the others, slowly turning his hand back and forth, stopping only to massage her G-spot again.

She threw her head back into the seat, rocking it backwards as his hand sawed into her and she came again.

Slowly and methodically, he worked her over, folding his thumb into his palm as the last knuckles of his hand began to push the folds of her pussy wider.

Amid her third intense orgasm, he turned the toothbrush over in his hand and applied the soft bristles to her clit. Anya's torso immediately tensed and came toward him again, even closer this time, as every sinew and joint of her body strained while she wailed uncontrollably.

It was at that precise moment that his hand slipped fully inside her. Her mouth and eyes were as wide as they could go and for the first time in probably fifteen minutes, she made no sound as he fisted her, and she looked down at the bulge that moved in her abdomen.

He went slowly and worked his way until a third of his forearm was disappearing in her cunt and Anya came twice more in rapid succession as he continued with the toothbrush on her clit.

When the sixth climax made its approach known, Randy felt a pressure on his hand and knew that she was about to squirt. He sped up his hand and slipped the toothbrush under the hood of her clit, reaching the top of the root for the first time.

What she could move of her body was in constant motion, her head swinging side-to-side as she tried to speak, her mouth moving with no sound.

The pressure in her cunt built until Randy could hold out no longer and he slowly pulled his hand from her stretched slit and removed the toothbrush at the same time.

A gusher sprung forth, the squirt going straight up into the air from her pussy and splashing down all over her thighs and mons.

Randy picked up the squirt bottle as she panted heavily. He inserted the tip into her gaped asshole and then tossed the bottle aside and pushed his cock deep in her ass with no effort whatsoever.

It took a while, but she eventually realized he was fucking her and had recovered enough to speak English.

"That's it, fuck my ass. Fuck my ass hard," she sneered exhaustedly, without the emphasis that she usually had, but the sentiment was the same.

Randy reached behind her and grabbed her bound ankles, rocking the chair back until the stops built into the base came into play. It gave him a good angle and leverage and he pounded her asshole for all he was worth.

The sights and sounds of the evening had ramped him up and it only took five minutes to cum. He pulled out at the onset of his shivering and sent cumshot after cumshot to coat her in white as she climaxed for the seventh and final time of the night.

*

Afterward, they washed each other off and then went naked out onto the gazebo to smoke.

In the dim light, Anya looked gaunt, mainly the result of the orgasms wringing the usual panache from her body.

"Well, you were right. That was memorable. I've never been fisted before. Don't squirt often either. I told you. You got a sadistic streak," she commented in staccato sentences with a tired smile after he had lit her cigarette.

Randy waved his hand after he had lit his own; not telling her that the fisting was a first for him as well.

"Was it really that bad?"

She folded in her shoulders and let them droop, scrunching up her face until she tilted it down to take another drag. "In the beginning with MY toothbrush," she emphasized the "my" with a proprietary tone, "it was way too intense. Then it got really good, really quick and I ..."

"Yessss?" Randy leaned toward her, bending at the waist, his feet planted in place, as he looked sideways at her face.

Anya looked at him, her head still tilted down and moving her eyes only. The tired smile returned, "I kinda got lost in it. I mean I know you fisted me, and I know I squirted, and I know you fucked the hell outta my ass, but the details are kinda fuzzy." When she finished, a hand came up and partially covered her face.