An Author in Search of a Character

Author's note: A while back I got a message from a reader who really enjoyed one of my stories and expressed interest in doing things from the story... with me. There is no way that will happen. Glad you like the story though.

But then I thought, story idea! So, the gentleman from the southeast Missouri area, hope you like this story too. And I wish all of you true love and great sex.

*****

I'm nervous walking up to the entrance of the motel. I was hoping for something nicer but this place seems clean and it's in a nice area. I don't know Cape Girardeau very well so I let you pick the spot for our meeting. The desk clerk asks if he can help me and I say "just visiting" as I breeze past to the elevators.

The back of the elevator is a mirror which gives me a chance to look myself over one more time. My black shorts are very tight. The white fabric of my tank top is very thin. Everywhere else is smooth tan skin. I run my hand over my hair and practice a few sultry looks. The elevator dings at your floor and my heart races a little.

You greet me at the door wearing faded blue jeans and a tattered t-shirt. That's OK, I guess. We weren't going out for cocktails or anything. The shirt shows off your muscular chest and arms. I feel the urge to run my hands over them. Then my gaze falls on the bulge in your jeans. It makes me want to, well, it makes my mouth water.

You look me up and down, twirl your finger to have me turn around for inspection. I take my time, swaying my hips as I do so, presenting you with a good long look at my assets. I end up facing you with my arms crossed behind my head. Looking up into your eyes I ask, "Will this do?"

"In your story you said you were blond."

"I said a lot of things. It's just a story."

"Well, I suppose you'll do."

That stings a little but I know you like what you see, despite your words. So I step into your arms and let you kiss me. You're a good kisser. I feel the bulge in your jeans harden as it presses into my tummy. Your hands roam my body, one encircling my shoulders and pressing me to you. The other moves down the small of my back to brush my waistband, your fingers raising goosebumps wherever they touch me.

You release me from the embrace and place your hands on my shoulders. Without hesitation I respond to the downward pressure, lowering myself to my knees. I'm eye level with your bulge now. I can make out its shape clearly. I can see the ridge of your glans. I imagine I can even see the veins. I kiss it through the faded denim, lick it, bite it. It swells even larger. Have I bitten off more than I can chew?

"OK, your, uh, dick is fucking huge, OK?" I sound like a ditz.

"I told you it was big."

"Every guy says they're big. Yours is fucking huge."

"You having second thoughts, babe?"

"I can handle it. Don't worry."

"Good, 'cuz I'm going to fuck the shit out of you with it." You're not speaking figuratively, I'm afraid.

I unbutton you, unzip you. You're not wearing underwear. That makes two of us. I smell your manly musk and stick out my tongue to give your shaft a taste. Nice. I pull down your pants and set your hardon free. I wrap one hand around it. My fingers and thumb don't touch. I wrap my other hand around it. Several inches remain so I open wide and take it in my mouth. I just kind of swirl my tongue around the tip while I look up in your eyes for, for instruction? for approval?

You push me away and gesture to the bed with your eyes. I stand and follow you, hoping for another taste. I am not disappointed. You recline on the pillows and guide my head to your lap. To arrange myself in a good angle to accommodate your girth I drape myself over your chest, looking toward the foot of the bed. As I settle in, your left hand strokes my back and your right hand gives my head some subtle encouragement.

The head of your cock fills my mouth. I don't think I can deep throat you. This saddens me. I want to give you that freakish pleasure. The best I can do is alternate between kissing and licking the head and taking it into my mouth, trapping it between my tongue and palate. After some experimentation I find that swallowing while your tip is pressed against my glottis gives you some good stimulation. Your involuntary groans tell me I'm hitting the spot.

It is hard for me to close my lips around the width of your shaft so my saliva drools down and pools up in the web of my hand. This makes you nice and slippery so I can stroke you up and down while I suck. I could make you come this way. And I can imagine how pleasurable it would be for you to explode in my mouth, drenching my tonsils and lips and face. But you have made a very specific request of me for tonight. And while I don't doubt you could get hard again soon enough, then it might take you all night to finish. And I'm not sure I could handle that.

Your hand creeps down the back of my shorts. You tease my cheeks a little. Then you ease your fingertips down my crack. But just before you think you'll hit gold you encounter my latest purchase at the adult novelty store in Springfield.

"You wearing a butt plug?" You ask, chuckling.

"Yeah, I, uh, wanted to be ready for you. Didn't want you to have to spend time, uh, loosening me up."

"I wouldn't mind loosening you up, babe. That's part of the fun." You push my head back down on your cock, indicating the conversation is over.

I really wore the plug to make sure I didn't disappoint you. There have been a few times, not many, when I had tried to take it that way and it just didn't work out. I didn't want to risk that with you. When you told me in your email how big you were I stopped at this shop and picked out a large plug, the XL model. Now that I know how big you really are I'm thinking I should have gotten the XXL. Or maybe I should have gone to the grocery store and bought a cucumber.

You aren't put off by the silicone plug wedged between my cheeks. Your fingertips explore the soft skin around my anus, which feels very nice. Then you push and tap and tug on the plug which also feels nice. Then you give it a twist which does not feel nice and I move my ass out of your reach for a moment. You encourage me to bring it back to you, promising to behave. But then you give it another little twist just to show me who's boss.

You manage to get a fingertip under the plug's flared base and you touch the tautly stretched sphincter muscle. You work your finger deeper and I can feel it start to penetrate me alongside the plug. I feel the need to make noise but my mouth is full of your cock. So I just moan and squirm under your touch. A second finger slips under the base and I feel them make shallow probes into my anus on either side of the plug. My hips are gyrating gently, letting you know I'm ready. I am so ready.

You pull me off of your dick and roll out of the bed. Under your direction I get on my hands and knees, toes hanging off the edge. The bed is low so that my ass is level with your erection as you stand behind me. You start to slowly pull the plug out of my ass but just before the widest part reaches my tight sphincters you let go, letting it plunge back in and eliciting a loud groan from me.

"Try to keep it down, OK?" You warn me. I bring my hand up to my mouth, ready to bite it if I have to.

You start to pull it out again. Again you let go and I feel it fuck into me. You do it again... and again. You really know your way around the ass. You start to pull it out. I'm expecting it to plunge into me again. Then it's gone and my ass feels empty and loose without it. Then without warning you put the plug in my mouth. Oh gross. It is dirty and the lube tastes terrible. But it remains in my mouth and I don't try to remove it.

"That ought to keep you quiet." You take a bottle of lubricant from the toiletries bag on the night table and pop it open. I'm glad to see that. I'm going to need all the help I can get to accommodate your monster. Absent-mindedly I suck on the butt plug like an oversized pacifier. Why not, I tell myself. It's already in my mouth and it might be there a while. I may as well get used to it. It's a good thing I didn't get the XXL, after all.

You finish lubing yourself up and you give me a fresh coat. Your fingers go right up in me. The plug did its work. I only hope it worked well enough as I feel your hands grip my ass and the head of your cock presses against my back door. Your thumbs find purchase on the inner part of my cheeks and you pull them firmly apart. You touch me in strange places. As loose as I feel, I am still too tight for you. But I can feel the tip, at least, penetrating me.

Over a period of some time you work your way into my asshole. Several times you pause to apply more lubrication. I'm grateful that you aren't a total bastard. If you tried to force that big dick into me you might have torn me apart. Instead, you push in firmly, over and over, making a tiny bit of progress each time. Then you back down, caressing my back and hips and murmuring encouragement.

Still, your thickness makes me uncomfortable when I feel you breach the ring of my sphincter muscles. It hurts. Not a piercing, stinging pain. But the pain of being forced into an unnatural pose. I shut my eyes tight and suck hard on the silicone plug in my mouth. I know if I can stand it for a little while longer the pain will pass, hopefully to be replaced with pleasure. And sure enough, the more my muscles and my mind get used to this new intrusion the less discomfort I feel. Less discomfort, more excitement.

I feel you sliding in freely now and I exhale in relief. I arch my back and stare at the generic floral painting on the wall as your last few inches sink into me. You pause a long time like that, your hands holding my hips in a vice-like grip.

"Is that OK, babe?" You ask. I can only hmm-hmm in assent. I guess you forgot you put a dirty butt plug in my mouth.

You pull me toward you another little bit. "How about now?" Hmm-hmm I reply.

You pull me closer and now I feel your thighs pressed against my cheeks. It feels a little different inside me, like you are getting close to reaching the end of my rectum.

"Still OK?" You ask. Hmm-mm I reply, adding an ambiguous tone to my humming. I'm pretty sure you are balls deep in me now. But just in case you have any more to give, I think this is far enough for me. We stay that way. I am impaled on your cock, completely filled with your cock. I hang on your cock like an ornament, like the figurehead of a ship.

Then you start to move in me. There's no discomfort now. My anus has stretched to accommodate you and the lubrication you so generously applied lets your fat cock slide easily in and out. It feels good. But the pleasure I feel is more emotional than physical. I'm proud of myself for being able to make you fit. I'm pleased to be giving you this pleasure. And I'm thrilled about being here with you, a stranger, performing this most intimate act just minutes after we've met.

Boom, boom, boom. It feels good. I'd like to say so, tell you how much I enjoy it. But I can't. So I just hum contentedly to let you know I'm doing all right. Boom, boom, boom. You've found a good rhythm that works for both of us. Boom, boom, boom. Our bodies slap together and I feel as though your big beautiful cock fits my colon like a glove. Boom, boom, boom. My body relaxes and lets you take me over.

I can't say how much time passes before I start to feel the friction building up. You must sense it too because you slow down to a stop and ease your cock out of me. I don't like this empty feeling and I whine softly. Then you spit on my asshole and rub your cock around in it. You push back in, sliding easily in. OK, that spitting thing did the trick.

I expect you to keep fucking me doggy style but after pushing all the way in you take it out again. Then you lay me down on my side and lie down behind me, like spoons. I'm thinking this feels rather romantic as you push back into my ass. After a few thrusts though you roll onto your back, pulling me up in your lap. You sit up and I am sitting on you, the cheeks of my ass split by your enormous dick.

You pull my legs up to my chest and hold me like that. Then you slowly lift me a few inches and slowly lower me back down. Again you lift me, lower me back down. Again, again, again, you are holding me helpless, making me ride your cock. I can't believe how strong you are. I'm like a toy in your arms. A living, breathing sex toy. This doesn't feel as good. What we were doing before was for our pleasure. This? This is for your pleasure. That's OK, lover. But I wish I could tell you it's unhhh... unhhh... uncomfortable for me. I try to relax and just take it.

Despite the helplessness of my position, I find I can swish my hips side to side. I know you like this because I hear you start to growl in my ear. Then by flexing my abs and lats I find I can move my hips forward and back. Oh, you like that too? Thank you, pilates classes. Just when I figure out how to move my ass in a circle on your cock you squeeze me tight and groan loudly as you fill my ass up with your cream. I would have said something snarky about not being so loud if I could talk, which I could not.

After rolling me gently onto my tummy, you graciously allow me to cover my head with the pillow while you take pictures of my ass. My anus is completely destroyed and it must look dirty and disgusting. I really hope that you are the only one to ever see those pics. You put your phone down and run your hands lovingly over my rump. Finally, you take the butt plug out of my mouth.

"It was sure nice of you to come, babe. Thank you very much for the ass. Four out of five stars, for sure. Here, let me help you get dressed." With that you stuff the plug back in my ass and pull me to my feet. You hustle me to the door and push me out in the hall, handing me my shorts and sandals before shutting the door in my face. The elevator dings and I barely get my shorts on before the door slides open and a couple emerges. They scowl at me as they pass. I must look a disheveled mess. I slip my sandals on and hurry out of the hotel.

Gingerly I slide behind the wheel of my little Spyder and let the engine idle while I get myself together. Was that really me in there? Did I really do that? My sore ass assures me that I did. The plug feels good, to be honest. Better than the empty feeling left behind when you pulled your cock out of me. It no longer fits so snugly in my channel though and I can feel your come seeping around the flared base.

I'm already checked in at my own hotel so I should be able to get to my room without making a scene. I'm looking forward to taking the plug out of my poor beleaguered butthole and getting into a hot bath. And brushing my teeth! Twice! I put the car in gear and roar out of the parking lot, tires squealing. Hopefully you hear the commotion and look out the window. I'm already missing you, my nameless well-hung fan.

*****

The next morning I am groomed and dressed and fed, taking my seat at a table in the back of Cape Girardeau's independent bookseller. A smiling line of women and a few men wait for me to begin signing copies of my latest work, a novel about a modest girl who has feelings for a guy, but he isn't good for her so she ends up with a better guy. My following is small but devoted and I love talking with them, hearing how my books have affected them. The most important part of a story isn't the plot or the theme. It's how it makes the reader feel.

The chair is uncomfortable due to my sensitive behind. This gets me wondering, do any of my fans suspect that this author who writes about modest girls with feelings also writes sordid sex stories about studs and sluts who can't get enough? If they did, would any of them dream that I acted out one of my stories last night, a story about being used and abused by a perfect stranger? Having that salacious secret gives me a little buzz.

After the initial rush the crowd grows thin and there are stretches of the day I amuse myself by browsing the store's inventory, listening to music and, yes, reading Literotica. Just as I'm packing up to leave, a man steps up to the table. It's you! My heart leaps. I hardly recognize you in your tailored suit and stylish gold-framed glasses. Across your breast you are holding one of my books.

"Do you have time to sign one more?" The sound of your voice makes my heart sing.

"How, how did you know?"

You turn the book over as you hand it to me, showing me my own picture on the back cover. "I knew it was you the moment I opened the door. I couldn't believe it, but I knew"

"Well you certainly played it cool."

"I didn't want to spoil the story."

I take the paperback from your hand. It's my first published work. I look over the shelf-worn cover, the dog-eared pages. Clearly a well-read, much-loved book.

"So you're a fan of modern romance?"

"Of course I am. What's more, I ADORE happy endings."

I open the book to the title page and sign it "To my biggest fan". I underline "biggest". Below the inscription I add the name of the hotel where I'll be staying tonight. I hand it back to you and watch you read it, hoping for a reaction. I'm not disappointed. Your smile absolutely melts me.

"Memphis," you read. "A person can have a good time there with the right company."

"I've never been," I reply, meeting your gaze. "But I'm sure it will be worth the trip."

"Well, when a story is that satisfying... I will always want a sequel."

I lean forward on my elbows to watch you go. We're not going to rush it tonight, not going to play games. I want to learn how to please you in every way. And you? I want you to explode in my mouth, drenching my tonsils and lips and face. My mouth waters in anticipation.