Anything I Want by Thomas S. Roche

Also: Anything I Want (audio version)

It was our two-week anniversary. I had been watching her gorgeous ass for hours as we danced, had been admiring the way it fit in to those skintight PVC pants she wore; the way the infinitesimal strap of her tiger-striped thong invited me to imagine her without the pants; the way the zipper in the back led my eyes down deep into the cleft between her perfect cheeks and similarly invited me — no, begged me — to imagine her without the pants or the thong.

The sex was incredible. In our two weeks we’d spent more time fucking than talking, which is saying a lot since our conversations were equally great. But the moment I got Lisa alone, I was unable to keep my hands off of her. Truth be told, I could only rarely keep my hands off her when we weren’t alone.

And she knew how to use that ass. Pressed up against me on the crowded dance floor, she let it grind in time with the rhythmic music, wriggling it back against my crotch as if inviting me in. While she was a skilled jazz dancer — four years of jazz and tap lessons in high school, she’d told me — she showed quite a fondness for the defining move of rock ‘n’ roll. When, about midnight, she ground her ass up against my crotch and discovered that I was hard as a rock, she didn’t pull away but pressed herself against me harder.

She tipped her head back, her ass thrust out behind her and her cheeks wrapped smoothly around my cock, only a layer of tight denim and one of PVC between us. “Want to get out of here?” she said in a club-whisper, which is really closer to a shout.

“I thought you’d never ask,” I replied, and she took my hand and led me down the long hall from the dance floor to the club’s exit.

As forward as Lisa is, she’s matched in equal measure by me. The second we exited the club into the alley, I grabbed her and pushed her against the wall, kissing her deeply in full view of the bored line of club patrons waiting for admission.

“Let’s go home,” she said when my lips left hers.

“Not just yet,” I told her, grasping her just tightly enough to let her know I wasn’t taking no for an answer. I spun her around and pushed her against the wall face first, pressing my crotch against her ass. A few whoops went up from the crowd, but Lisa is never one to get embarrassed. I was still rock-hard, and as I ran my fingers through her hair and lifted it, I dug my teeth into the back of her neck, in exactly the spot that always makes her shiver.

“Fuck,” she whimpered. “I want to take you home and fuck you.”

“I want your ass tonight,” I whispered in her ear.

She turned her head. “You can’t have it,” she said with a faint smile. “Remember?”

Lisa wasn’t a fan of anal sex. She’d tried it several times and it was just never what she wanted. I wasn’t disappointed, because I had plenty of alternate activities for her. But tonight I couldn’t take my mind off her ass.

“Sure I can,” I whispered. “Trust me.”

Lisa moaned as I slipped my arm around her and worked it up her baby-T. She didn’t even seem to care that the crowd was watching as I palmed her small, braless tits, rubbing my palms over the nipples. I gnawed on the back of her neck, and more shivers went through her as the crowd issued a smattering of applause.

“Whatever you want,” she whimpered softly. “I’ll do anything you want.”

A dangerous thing to tell me to be sure, but Lisa knew I’d take care of her. There’s no version of sex between us in which I would do anything she didn’t beg for, didn’t want so bad it made her moan. And Lisa moans a lot.

“Your ass is mine,” I whispered. “I’m going to make you want it. You’ve been rubbing it against me all night,” I said. “Now it’s time to go home.”

“Whatever you want,” she repeated. “I’ll do anything you want.”

I put my arm around her and guided her down the alley toward the car. My hand rested on her ass, my fingers loving its curves and the way that zipper crept down her cleft. “Let’s drive fast,” I said.

In the car, I seized her again and kissed her hungrily, my hands once again slipping under her shirt and teasing her nipples. She whimpered and moaned again: “I’ll do anything you want.”

It was a powerful admission for Lisa, who always takes control in bed. Not in a dominant way — but in the way of a woman who wants absolutely nothing in the world more than she wants sex. For her to offer surrender like this was a profound thing, and I didn’t plan to waste it.

I drove too fast and took the curves of the onramp a little more carelessly than I ought to have done. Lisa didn’t care, not even buckling her seat belt until I told her to. By then we were racing down the freeway and she’d kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet under that glorious ass, her hand resting in my lap as she stroked my still-hard cock. My mouth watered as we pulled off the freeway and into her driveway. She didn’t even bother to put her shoes back on.

Not a moment in the front door to her apartment, I pushed her against the wall in the dark. Face first to the cheap plaster wall, unable to wait, she pushed her ass back against me. She moaned as I ground against her ass, my cock never having softened during the twenty-minute drive. I pinched her nipples and bit her neck as the pressure of her ass against my cock slowly increased. She wanted it bad. I eased back, cupped one perfect mound with my hand and squeezed.

“Anything I want,” I whispered.

“Anything.”

I reached out and hit the light switch, turning the fader so the apartment lights were soft enough for the proper mood — but bright enough that I could see every curve of her delicious ass.

I pulled down the rear zipper of her PVC pants, exposing her glorious ass with the thin slip of animal-print material the only thing between me and it. I knew that Lisa wouldn’t lead me astray; I could have anything I wanted, and what I wanted was for her to come so hard she sobbed.

I slipped my hand into the back of her fetish pants, having to wedge my fingers in, the space-age fabric was so tight.

“Pull them down,” I told her.

Not a moment’s hesitation. She took hold of her low-slung pants and wriggled them down over the slight curve of her hips. She pushed her ass back and leaned down so she could get the pants down to her knees, but I wouldn’t allow her any more space than that. I pushed her up against the wall again and her hands flashed from the waist of her pants to the walls, her palms pressed flat as she steadied herself with a gasp.

“Not all the way,” I said, my lips close to her ear. “Those are expensive pants, and I like the way they look.”

I let my fingers tickle the curve of her ass, teasing their way under the thong. She moaned as I plucked the thong out of her cleft, and I knew it was rubbing against her clit. Lisa had confided in me that she always wears her thongs one size too small for that very reason. With the skintight pants around her knees, she could only spread her thighs a little. But when I slipped my fingers between them I discovered that she was dripping.

“Don’t move,” I said as I kissed my way down her back. “Don’t move a muscle.”

I went down on my knees and pulled the thong as far as I could to the side. That made Lisa wriggle, and I repeated “Don’t move!” as I began to kiss her sweet spot.

“I can’t hold still when you do that,” she whimpered, more than a hint of a whine in her voice.

My tongue trailed its way up the back of one thigh. “Try holding still,” I said, “When I do this.”

My tongue slipped between her cheeks and found her asshole. Lisa didn’t hold still; she clawed at the wall and let out a gasp that would have made me stop if I wasn’t so intent on possessing her asshole. My tongue wriggled into her and Lisa pushed back onto me, her hips rotating to bring her ass firmly against my face. I licked deeper, my tongue burrowing into her tight hole, and all she could say was “Oh, oh, oh, oh God!”

My hand worked between her barely-parted thighs, and a great shudder went through her body as I teased her clit. My tongue seethed in and out of her ass. I tickled her rear entrance with the tip as I rubbed her clit firmly in little circles.

Then I eased my tongue out from between her cheeks and stood up again, pressing my face to her neck.

“If you want more,” I told her, “Take off just your pants and thong, and bend over the couch.”

I stepped back, watching Lisa writhe and squirm against the wall as she sought purchase. Her hands were shaking.

I waited for a moment to see what she was going to do — if I was going to have her ass the way I wanted it, the way that I felt sure would make her come. Then, still leaning against the wall — without moving her upper body, in fact — she pulled her thong down to her knees and then with some difficulty forced the fetish pants down to her ankles.

She stepped out of the pants and thong, having to wriggle her ankles to get them off. I didn’t move to help her; this was how I wanted her to beg for it.

She gave me a shy glance over her shoulder, her lips not smiling, her eyes rich and full with desperation and desire. Leaving her baby-T on, she walked over to the end of the couch. I watched her with my cock throbbing — there was something special about her doing this with her T-shirt still on, drawing attention to the fact that she was asking me to do this filthy thing.

Lisa went to the big overstuffed sofa and bent over the end of it.

Petite, Lisa was just the right size to be fucked against this sofa. In the two weeks we’d been together, I’d fucked Lisa bent over that sofa more often than I’d fucked her in bed; she liked it because the pressure of that position forced her pubic bone against her clit as I lifted her feet off the floor with each thrust. I never asked her if she’d tested the sofa in the showroom before buying it.

Obediently, without being told, Lisa spread her legs very wide, so wide she had to stand on tiptoes and lean forward over the sofa’s arm.

“Spread them,” I said, and she knew I wasn’t talking about her legs, because they were already as wide as could be.

Lisa reached back and put her delicate fingers on her rear cheeks, parting them wide and exposing her tight pink asshole, which still glistened. I took my time reaching her, each step deliberate, savoring the sight of her bent over and offering her ass to me in the half-light. But it took a lot of effort not to dive on her and bury my face in her.

When I finally dropped to my knees behind her and pressed my mouth between her spread cheeks. Lisa let out a desperate obscenity and lost hold of her ass-cheeks, instinctively grabbing for the sofa.

I was merciless with Lisa’s asshole, tenderly teasing it as I listened to her pant and moan. My hand found her clit and then her pussy, and when I eased two fingers into her I could feel how tight she was, her channel swollen with hunger. She wanted me to fuck her — Lisa always wants me to fuck her — but tonight she was going to come another way. I started fingering her rhythmically, matching the strokes of my tongue with the thrust of my fingers. I positioned my thumb so that it gently struck her clit with each thrust into her, and my tongue worked its way deep into her ass as Lisa writhed over the end of the couch.

“Oh God,” she moaned. “I’m going to come!”

“How close?”

“Close,” she gasped. “Ten…ten seconds, I….I guess….oh!”

I licked her asshole more firmly, pressing my tongue into it as deep as I could and then pulling out to swirl circles around the outside. My fingers slipped out of her and I left her clit there throbbing and desperate and started fucking her ass with my tongue, knowing she was so close she couldn’t turn back. But Lisa didn’t know that, and she clawed at the sofa and moaned “Oh, God, please — please make me come!”

When it came it was unexpected, because I wasn’t even touching her clit, didn’t even have a single finger inside her pussy. All Lisa felt was my tongue wriggling in her asshole, as she gasped in surprise at the orgasm that had overtaken her. Lisa came hard, my tongue on her asshole our only point of contact, her surprised sounds giving way to sounds of uncontrolled, unrestricted pleasure.

She moaned louder than I’d heard her moan yet — and that’s saying something. I kept licking her asshole until I could tell by her gasps that she could take no more.

I had to lift her off the end of the sofa, stretch her out on the floor. I laid next to her and held her, my hand on one round cheek of the gorgeous ass I’d just tasted.

“No one’s ever done that to me,” she said, her voice hoarse from moaning. “How did you know I’d like it?”

“I didn’t,” I said. “You told me you’d do anything I want.”

Lisa put her arms around me and snuggled close.

* Find out more about Thomas Roche at thomasroche.com.

Comments on this entry are closed.