Owning Daisy's Asshole

Again I ran my fingers across her soft skin. Again she relaxed against me. And again my hardening cock found it's way between her cheeks. It would have been better if she were still wearing Jeans, but having paint on them, she changed into a thin skirt.

My cock, covered only by my thin gym shorts, was either kept away from her amazing ass and fannie by a slinky layer of skirt, or worse yet, only by her panties. I couldn't tell which.

My cock could feel the contours of her feminine ass and it quickened my pulse. She had told me I could control it. She had encouraged me not to sell myself short, "Daisy, I think we should move."

Pointing at the screen she said, "We're just getting to the good part."

"Yea, but Daisy..." I whined.

"Just ignore it Chad." I don't think she understood the nature of temptation at all!

I tried to ignore it. I did sums in my head. I missed whatever was happening in the show. But my attempts failed - as I petted her, my caresses reached lower and lower until eventually my hand was on bare skin under her skirt but beside her panties. And yes, now I knew it wasn't the skirt that was the only barrier between my desperate cock and her treasure.

She lay her head back on my chest, her body conforming to and matching mine. I know she wasn't asleep this time. In the movie the detective was suspensefully following the femme fatale through dimly lit streets. I hooked my left thumb under the elastic on her panties.

Daisy's only response was to comment on the movie, "I love this part. Will he catch her?" I kept telling myself: She's wide awake. She's open minded. She's a responsible adult, more responsible than me. She'll stop me if it's wrong.

With my right hand I pushed the band of my shorts below my balls. Now my naked cock once again rubbed her naked thigh. It only took a flick of my finger and my engorged cock filled the channel between her lovely buns yet again.

My breath was ragged. If her body language objected I couldn't notice. I heard her breath catch too. In the movie the villainess had just run into a dead end alley. The detective couldn't see her hiding place. Was she reacting to the movie?

Both other times my cock visited her crack, she wasn't mad. She knew what I had done. I know she didn't approve but she allowed it? Was she testing me? I've heard of Catholic girls who used oral and anal as a loophole, saying it wasn't really sex. And you can't get pregnant. Was this a Christian loophole?

She liked it, or she liked the movie. But what girl in her right mind would let a man plow her crevice because she liked the movie? I was at a loss.

I just needed to test the waters again. Maybe we were speaking in code and I just didn't know it, "Are you liking the..." I paused almost imperceptibly, "movie?"

"Oh yes. It's well done, good plot. Entertaining." I rocked my bald head through her nude valley. I perceived nothing in her message. Did she think that by ignoring it this would go away? A deluded denial? Her philosophy made no sense, though at the moment I wasn't complaining. Shoot first, ask questions later.

My cockhead caught at the dry entrance to her mysterious asshole. It snagged and hurt me slightly. Meanwhile, the detective shot the perpetrator. Daisy gasped. "Are you alright? I didn't hurt you?"

I heard a calmness in her voice I never expected given what I was doing, "You'd never hurt me, Chad. It's why I trust you." She reached back to touch me. Her slender fingers stroked my leg where my shorts previously clothed me. In my mind she was pulling on my hip, guiding me to push.

I opened a drawer in the end table, collecting the lube Raven and I had used here before. With Raven I pushed her to her knees, leaning her on her chest while I took her ass roughly.

I applied a generous amount to both my log and Daisy's virgin asshole. When my slick fingers fumbled around back there I'm pretty sure she tilted sideways allowing me better access.

Was she really going to permit me to fuck her ass? Was she permitting it? She'd never said 'yes', she'd never even acknowledged the act. She talked about being a servant. This was too crazy to be that.

My passions seduced me but Daisy was the victim. I should just stop. She forgave me before but this was far more. Wasn't there even a Biblical word for this? Sodomy.

My Devil-may-care cock ensnared my mind fully, inducing me to take advantage of the sweet innocent Daisy. I applied gentle pressure. She was so relaxed it started to sink in with no obstruction. I stopped, suddenly worried I'd crossed a line, "Should I go on?"

Her voice was labored, "No, but do it." And there it was: Permission. Acknowledgement.

"It doesn't hurt?"

She seemed a little surprised," No, it doesn't." Then she added by way of explanation, "It feels like us."

Her actions and words were inscrutable again. Tenderly I made love to her asshole. Never going too deep or fast. Daisy bit her lower lip but looked happy, not pained. I kissed her neck and she craned her head back to kiss my lips.

When I came it was primal and felt sacred. Daisy clutched at my hand making indentations in my palms with her long nails.

I finished with a tiny loving kiss on her shoulder blade. She hobbled off to the bathroom, a little leak running down her leg.

When she came back she was quiet. Laying her head on my chest she held me close and she cried a little, "A girl should control herself. I gave into temptation and did what I wanted rather than what I should."

It hit me like a ton of bricks. I had beguiled her and caused her to stray from her faith that was so important to her. What I did was nothing short of a spiritual injury, "Oh, Daisy," I put my hand on her chest, "I've hurt you in here. The one thing you wanted was to trust me not to hurt you and I've done it in the worst way." I choked up and a tear formed in the corner of my eye.

She looked up at me. She started to laugh a bittersweet laugh, then stopped. "Don't be silly. I'm a grown woman. I made my choices because I wanted to. I didn't sacrifice for you. If you were my husband I would. I would give myself to you - mind, body, and soul. But you're not.

Don't get me wrong, I see the gentle strong man you are, and I know you would work tirelessly to care for me.

You didn't do it, I've hurt myself and my Lord.

You, you always know what you want. You're even a bit single-minded when your other head leads you. You just don't know what it's like to struggle with temptation like I do."

Her tone changed, "Chad, will you help me with my temptation? Don't let me give in. You're stronger than I am."

I wanted nothing more than to help her with her struggles, even though I would be agreeing not to have sex for a very long time.

I never wanted to hurt her again. Not physically, not spiritually. I would sacrifice everything I had and wanted, to accomplish that end. I would walk a thousand miles, climb the highest mountain.

Then I got it! Her philosophy finally made sense. A husband and wife could both be slaves to each other. We could each sacrifice and give our all in unique and complementary ways.

I looked deeper into a person's eyes than I ever had, "I promise with every ounce of strength I have, I'll help you. I'll never hurt you again."

Then I took both her hands in mine, "Daisy, if you'll have me, my body is yours, will you marry me?"

She got all serious, "Firstly, the next time you ask me to marry you, you better be down on one knee - and be wearing pants so your dick isn't hanging out." I quickly put it back in my shorts.

She joked, "It would be too hard to know if I said 'yes' because I loved you or because your package was so beautifully manly." She smirked, "Now stop tempting me."

Then she was serious again, "Secondly, while we're on the road to working out our problem with my temptations, we're still unequally yoked and we've got a lot to talk about.

I'm still confused about the yolk thing. I've gotta figure out my own temptations too.

I do know that when she first started sharing this stuff with me I was very excited thinking about a woman who would serve me. But now I'm actually more interested in learning how to serve her. All the things she's mentioned so far are the things that most make me feel like a man.

Author's note:

If you liked my story please give it a good vote. Favorite the story, or me, to read it later if you want.

I try but don't always succeed in creating a good story. Please add comments so I know what I'm doing well and what to improve on. If you want to talk I'll answer your friendly comments.

I often attempt to create tension in the main character's motives. In turn, this often means that characters in the story have flaws and might not even be nice to each other all the time.