10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

M y hands shake as I stare down at my girl.

I can't believe she's here, in my home, my bathroom.

Our bathroom.

My mouth dries at the thought, even as pride has my dangalang stiffening in my velours. I hope she doesn't think I'm moving too quickly. The idea of her panicking and rejecting what we have makes me physically ill.

I bite my lip, taking in her sweet body. I'd stepped out of the bathroom to give her a moment to get comfortable and urinate. She changed into my shirt. It dwarfs her luscious curves and for the first time in my entire life, I'm ecstatic to be a big man. I've never hated being average height or thick, especially in the mid- section. I've never cared much, to be honest. But right now, I'm damn well loving the shit out of my size.

"Are you sure I need to be in this position?" She murmurs, shooting me a bashful look as she adjusts her legs, sinking deeper into the sumo squat I instructed her to assume. "I'd think doggy would suffice."

I choke on my next breath at the sound of the word doggy coming from her delicious lips.

"No," I rasp. "You're perfect."

I didn't think it was possible for her cheeks to turn pinker, but they do, and my junk throbs in response. There's no way my virginal self is making it out of this tempting adventure with any sort of dignity. I'll be lucky if I don't blow my load the second I touch her thigh.

Christ, man. Be professional. She asked you a question.

"And this position is actually the body's natural state for rectal evacuation." I gesture at the tools I gathered and sanitized for the procedure. "Not only is gravity on our side like this, but your rectum is perfectly straight in a sumo, so everything should flow beautifully. Once I see what the situation is, you'll push and I'll use my tools to remove the little guy, no problem."

"This is nuts!" she chokes out, slamming her knees together. "You make it sound as if l'm getting ready to push out a baby, not a butt plug!"

I smile and drop to my knees in front of her. Luckily, the bathrooms in this place are massive, so we've got plenty of space to do what needs to be done without feeling crowded. Not only that, but the hellacious amount I spend on weekly cleaning crews ensures the white marble tile is pristine. Perfect for what my girl's about to go through.

"You're going to be okay," I murmur, cupping her jaw. She sucks in a harsh breath, drawing me in. Unable to help myself, I press my lips to hers. "I promise, I'm going to fix this. Do you trust me?"

"I know I shouldn't, but, yeah, I really do."

"Good goose," I praise, kissing her again. "Now let's get this silly thing out of you so you can get some rest."

Story shakes out her hands and bobs her head. "Okay. I'm ready."

"I'll be quick," I promise, adjusting my headlamp.

Thank fuck, my old man was a pack rat of weird shit. And double thank fuck he left all his crap to me when he finally kicked the bucket. It took me months to make his old Beacon Hill Brownstone livable. The home is stunning, but, damn, it was a hoarder's wet dream.

Snatching the hand sanitizer from my baking sheet turned medical tray, I thoroughly cleanse my digits before shoving my meaty fingers into a pair of new dish gloves. They're tight, practically cutting off the blood flow to my palms, but I figured she'd feel better if I used them. Once I'm ready, I shuffle to my ass and lean back onto the mechanic's dolly.

"Oh my god!" Story chuckles. "You look adorable on that thing!"

I shoot her an upside-down grin as I use my feet to wheel toward her. "Alright, bed bug. You get to be my assistant. Think you're up to the job?"

"Yes!" She claps her hands and her thighs bounce like a frog. My sweet little amphibian.

I roll backward until I'm looking up at her from the flat of my back. Just above me, my shirt is puddled around her spread thighs, covering her maidenhood. It takes everything in me not to look, but all my thoughts turn to static knowing I'm so close to it . Her pretty, pink flower. Her delicious fur burger. My mouth waters and my senses go haywire. If I didn't know any better, I'd think I could scent her moist cunny already.

Shit. I bet she's moist as hell. So moist, I could slip right in without her even noticing and fill her with my manly spunk until she's knocked up.

"Fred?" she says softly, rubbing her soft hand across my scalp. I blink a few times, shaking my filthy thoughts away. "What did you need me to do?"

I lick my dry lips, watching as Story traces the movement. "I'll call out for supplies, and you hand them to me. You'll be my assistant."

"I can do that," she agrees, her voice raspy with desire. At least that's what I think it is.

She could have gas.

I've never been with a woman before, so I have no idea what their mating rituals are like, but judging by her blown out pupils and triggered peaks, I assume I'm on the right track.

"You ready, bed bug?" I breathe, ignoring my racing heart and trembling body. She nods, giving me a precious smile. "Alright, I'm going in."

"Wait!" she cries, freezing me in place. "Is it going to hurt?"

Yes, likely .

Instead of saying that, I give her a firm look and grip her calves. "I won't let it."

"But—"

I squeeze her gently. "I've got you."

And I do. I'll do everything in my power to keep her from being in pain. In fact, I'll do my damndest to make this the best cavity search she'll ever experience in her goddamned life.

Jealousy tingles in my belly. The only cavity search she'll ever experience. Unless she ends up loving it. If that's the case, she can reenact this scenario whenever she wants, but she'll be reenacting it with me.

Something on my face must finally settle her nerves because her shoulders push back and she firms up her squat. With a jerked nod, she says, "Okay. Frisk me, Freddikins."

I flick the headlamp on and exhale slowly.

Under the hood I go.

The realization that these are the last few seconds I'll have as a pure man, hits me hard and I have to force myself not to panic.

You can do this, Fred. You've seen the textbooks. You've been dreaming of this day for twenty years.

I roll the dolly between her spread thighs, careful not to bump her large feet. The shirt acts as a sort of cotton veil, shrouding my world from the majestic unknown. It grazes my face, tickling me. And then, I'm there. Between Story's thighs, breathing in her swampy warmth as I gaze upon the most incredible sight I've ever beheld. Between the position and bright light, I can see everything.

Hmm….she's a natural peach head, then. Cute.

Her cunt-aloupe is darker than I expected, even with the bush of pale curls dusting her folds. Between them, Story's tunnel of love is slightly gaping. Unfortunately, without digging in, I can't see inside her darkened cave, so I turn my attention to the rest of her, committing the sight to memory. There's a mole on her left lip and a few ingrowns near her nub, but to me, she's perfect. Breathtaking. Awe washes through me and without my permission, my eyes cloud over.

"Wow," I breathe, sniffling my tears away. Only, I catch a whiff of something unexpected. Something new yet familiar. Something mouthwatering. For some reason, it reminds me of her thong. I groan, my cock harder than it's ever been. "Goddamn."

"What?" She cries. "Is something wrong? Is it gross? Fuck. I knew I should have washed up. Here! I'll shower first!"

She shifts and my hands jolt out, gripping her hips to still her movements. "Stay!" I bark. "Mine!"

Story stills. "Wh-what?"

Squeezing my eyes shut, I take a deep breath, filling every crevice of my lungs with her fragrance. Sweet, tangy, slightly damp with a sour note. If I could, I'd bottle it up and wear it as cologne. A growl slips free from my chest. No. Hell no. Then other men would smell her. Would want her. Absolutely not. She may need to wear odor-blocking diapers from here on out.

I nod sharply. I'll pick some up.

"You're freaking me out, Fred." She whimpers, and it's then that I notice her thighs are trembling. Shit. This squat must be killing her. "You're too quiet. Say something!"

Clearing my throat, I force my brain and body to cooperate. "Everything is fine, baby."

I flick my gaze to her puckered hole. It's time for business. We can play later.

Her chocolate starfish is wrinkled and pink, delicate almost. There's a small amount of hair covering it, and I'll need to maneuver things to get a good look.

"I'm going to inspect you now," I murmur, working through the best way to do this. "Tell me if anything hurts. I'll be gentle."

"Okay," she whispers. "It doesn't hurt anymore, though, so you can be rough with me."

I pause, my hands stilling mid-air. "Rough?" Why does my throat sound like I've choked on gravel? "I don't want to—"

"I'm not broken, Fred." She scoffs. "I'll admit, I was a bit freaked out earlier, but I'm totally fine now."

I snort and she slaps the top of my thigh, just inches from my throbbing beef jerk-me. Hopefully she doesn't notice how hard I am. Story sucks in a sharp breath and a tiny whimper falls from her lips. My dick jumps.

Goddamn. So much for discretion.

Before she can comment on my inappropriate erection, I press my fingers around her spread anus and push the curls to the side so I can get a better look. Something small and dark is sticking to a few, keeping them clumped together and blocking my view. I narrow my eyes. What the hell is that?

"Tweezers, bed bug."

I hold my palm out and she quickly passes them over. It takes a few minutes to sift through the debris without ripping her hairs out, but I take my time, determined not to hurt my angel.

"So," she drawls, shifting her legs again. I grimace, picking up the pace. Why is this so crispy? "Where did you get a headlamp anyway? And this wheely thing."

"My garage." I push a hair to the side, discovering the cause for the knot. The tiniest dingleberry known to man. I grin. Even her fecal waste is cute.

"You have a garage? Wait. I thought this was an ap—"

I give it a little tug and it slips free.

"Ouchie!" she cries.

I drop the tweezers on the puppy pad next to me, along with her berry. Smoothing a hand along her thigh, I murmur my praises, telling her what a good, brave goose she's being for me. Story sighs, a shudder writhing through her as I get back to her hole. My fingers are gentle as I probe at the pink stink wrinkle, testing its limits.

It's looser than I thought it would be. Maybe this won't be so hard. I'll still need some slip so I can slide in and extract the plug. I wonder what it looks like. I shift my knees, trying to relieve some pressure on my aching testicles. They're so full, I'm pretty sure I could knock my girl up just by looking at her.

"Baby oil," I grit out.

"Yes?" She asks, lifting the shirt to peer at me between her legs.

I blink at her. "Baby oil."

"I said what?" She huffs.

My brows furrow. Can she not hear? Has something happened in the last ten seconds I'm unaware of? Is she injured? My heart rate picks up.

" Baby ," I say slowly, drawing out the letters. " Oil. "

Her hands fly in exasperation. "What do you need, Fred? I'm right freaking here!"

"I need the baby oil!" I cry, pointing at the industrial sized bottle on the tray. "I'm going to look inside you now and I don't want to go in dry."

Her cute cheeks turn an adorable shade of red. She giggles, and the sound goes straight to my chest. Shit. Is it too soon to be in love? No. It's never too soon with your soulmate.

But how can you know she's your soulmate? Your shitty father had at least forty women he paraded around, claiming the divine voices of his animal kin pronounced them to be his soulmates. Look how that turned out. News flash…it didn't!

I bite my lip, ignoring the rational part of my brain. It's annoying. And boring.

"Oh, shoot." She picks it up, and I wiggle my fingers expectantly. Her nose scrunches. "Um, Freddikins. Do you think we can lose the gloves? They hurt."

"Really? You're sure?"

She nods her head, and I eagerly rip them off. I don't need to be asked twice. The idea of feeling her skin, her insides, without anything between us, has my cock snot leaking into my tighty-whities.

Once my hands are free from the restraints of my palm condoms, I hold them out. "Cover my hands in oil so I can explore you, bed bug."

"O-okay," she stutters, following my instructions.

Why does she sound like that? Tortured?

I slather my fingers in the lube and bring them to her hole. The second the pads connect with her wrinkled skin, it winks at me. My breath catches. I press it again, this time firmer, slipping just the tip of my pinky inside. She whimpers, clenching around me. My cobra spits enough sticky liquid to make my panties stick to my sack. I hiss out a breath as I dive in deeper.

"Good?" I grunt out, breathing roughly as I slip my pinky free, replacing it with my thick middle finger. She whines as I work it into her, careful not to injure her already sore bottom. "Story?"

Her trembling legs shake hard enough that I worry she's going to fall over, but she whimpers out a pained don't stop . Taking it as my sign to hurry the hell up, I work a second finger in, gently fucking in and out of her clenching tunnel.

"I won't stop," I promise. "Not until it's out."

This is going too slow. She's hurting, Fred. You need to help her!

"I should have given you something for the pain." I scissor my fingers, wincing when she lets out a loud cry. "I know! I know! I'm so sorry, baby!"

"It's fine!" she wails through panting breaths, but I don't believe her for a second. Surely someone who's fine wouldn't be making so much noise.

My tongue pokes out to the side in concentration as I slip my fingers in up to my knuckles, but stop when I hit something hard and plastic. My eyes widen. Damn. It's really in there. Not that I didn't believe her. Of course, I did, but how does something like this happen? And where's the asshole who left her alone and in so much pain, tied to a bed, exposed and vulnerable?

Rage washes through me, but I choke it down, focusing on my bed bug. I'll take care of that doofus later.

I try to focus on my task of loosening her fleshy fun bridge, but every few seconds, my eyes slide to her pretty beef curtains. As I scissor my fingers, my mind begins to wonder, and I'm just weak enough a man to let it. What would she taste like? Feel like against my tongue? Sliding down my throat? Would she be as delicious as she smells? Sweet, with a hint of acidic tang, and a bite of salty sweat. Would her lady juices be sticky like egg whites, or creamy like my favorite banana protein drink?

My mouth waters and a droplet of drool makes its way down my chins.

Before I know what I'm doing, I'm leaning forward and wrapping my mouth around her brown lower lips. I jolt in shock at what greets me.

Oh, fuck. She's wet.

Is that for me? Because of me? What would turn her on like that?

"Holy shit!" Story cries. "Wh-what are you doing?"

My eyes snap open as realization pulses through me. Did I seriously just do that? I release her, my head rearing back. My hazy eyes focus, finding three fingers lodged knuckle deep into her stretchy rosebud. When did that happen?

"Fuck, baby. I'm so sorry." I suck in a breath, my body turning to stone. Did I ruin this? "I won't do it again. I just—" I break off, swallowing hard, her divine nectar still swishing across my tongue.

Silence fills the bathroom. I glance up at my digits in her asshole and wonder if I should continue or prepare to take her to the hospital.

"Just what?" she whispers, her fingers tightening around the towel bar in front of her.

My eyes slide to her pussy and the bright headlamp catches on the space between her hairy lips. Moisture glistens back at me, trailing all the way down her thighs, and I groan low in my throat. She's so wet, she's gushing.

I may not know much about sexual activities, but I know enough to recognize when a person's aroused. I took sex-ed. Had the talk. It was given to me by the gentleman who mowed our backyard, but it was informative enough. I'd seen pornography. But more than that, I'd read books. Lots and lots of books.

Is she this wet because she's fertile? Is there an egg in her womb, primed and ready for fertilization from a young, virile man such as myself?

A lump gets stuck in my throat at the thought and once it's formed, I can't get rid of it. Holy shit. I want that. Goddamn, I want it bad.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Keep. Keep. Keep.

I need to knock her up. That's the only way she'll stay with me. If she's pregnant with my baby, I'll provide for her. Marry her. Move her in. I'll keep her pregnant until the day we die, and then, I'll knock her up in Heaven and we'll have little sky babies.

Do it, my brain coos. Do it now.

"Fred," she whines. I blink back to the present. "What were you going to say?"

"I want you," I blurt. Jesus, man. Get it together! "In the biblical sense," I tack on, in case she can't tell. "So damn badly."

Story peaks down at me from between her thighs and gives me a strangled look.

"Well, I'd hope so!" She rolls her eyes. "If not, this would be really fucking awkward."

"What? Why?" I'm so confused.

"Because it's taking everything in me not to lean forward and swallow your yummy sausage like a competitive eater."

"Seriously? You'd do that?" My entire body shudders as she nods her head enthusiastically. "What else do you want to do?"

Biting her lip, she flicks her eyes to my obvious hard-on and moans. My salami jumps in response, coughing up some more pre-splooge into my underwear. Story swivels her hips, pushing my fingers deeper inside her. I bump the toy and she makes a choking sound.

"Everything. I want to ride your shrinky dinky like it's my own personal saddle. I want you to fire off some of your knuckle-children directly into my throat so you can warm my belly."

She rocks her hips, releasing a desperate moan.

"Not your throat," I snap, even if it may sound hot as hell. "You can suck, but you can't swallow."

"Why?" She sounds so disappointed, I nearly smile.

"Because, baby," I coo, pressing a kiss to her asscheek. "The only place my cock snot belongs is deep inside your womb."

"Oh, my god!"

I flinch at her reaction, worried I've gone too far. But then she's bouncing her tired thighs, fucking herself on my fingers. She grunts and gurgles in pleasure as her slickened hole queefs around my lube-coated digits. It's the prettiest symphony I've ever heard.

"You really want that, Freddy? You want to come inside me? Breed me?"

My hips thrust into the air, dry humping nothing. Shit. I feel like I'm two seconds from coming in my pants. I should be embarrassed, but I can't help it. Hearing the woman of my dreams say the word breed is like crack to my balls.

"Yes." I pant, swirling my fingers around inside her poop-chute. It's so warm, my skin is burning, but I ignore it as a chaotic ramble of desire spills into the humid air between us. "I want it so bad. I want you pregnant with my baby. I want you big and round, your yummy boobies leaking with cream just for me. I want to sleep with my log in your river, filling you with my seed again and again until it takes. Even then, I want you full of me. I want you creamy, baby. So goddamned creamy."

"You're perfect," she breathes out. "Fuck that asshole, Bud. I want you to be the one to take your skin boat to tuna town!"

My hand comes down on her juicy jungle, making her jump. She cries out.

"What the hell was that for?"

"Don't ever say another man's name again," I grit out, slapping the thick flesh again. It bounces under my palm as she gasps. "And damn straight, fuck him. He doesn't deserve you. I do. I'm the one who saved you. The one who's taking care of you." I slap her curtains again, watching them wobble erotically. "This is mine. Say it."

"Oh, fuck." She whimpers. "That's so sexy." I bite her thigh softly in warning and she cries out. "It's yours, Freddikins! All yours!"

"Hell yes, it is." I lave my tongue over the small hurt, wishing it was her vagina I was licking instead. "And I'm yours. All of me."

Story sucks in a harsh breath. "I'm yours, too."

Thank fuck.

Suddenly, the shirt separating our view is gone, and she's naked, hovering above me. Her eyes peer down between her thighs, locking with mine.

"My body is yours, Fred," she declares huskily. "Now, what are you going to do with it?"

Just like that, I come in my panties for the first time in years.

Goddamnit.