“We need to prep you a bit more, though,” he whispered. “So straddle me, but don’t try to impale yourself on me just yet.”
“Okay.”
I did as he said, climbing onto the bed, then throwing one leg over his waist, lowering my naked ass to his belly. He smiled up at me and I sprawled across him for a kiss, moaning when he rubbed a lubed finger between my cheeks.
That felt almost as good as his tongue did back there. After working me up, he pressed the finger inside of me. I jumped.
“Too much?” he asked, removing his finger.
“Uh, no?” I said, then was immediately overwhelmed by the thought of the size difference between his finger and his cock.
“I’m in no hurry,” he reassured me. “I’m not gonna rush you.”
“I know,” I said, annoyed at the tremble in my voice.
“Good,” he said, then started kissing me again, this time with his arms around me.
The kissing was wonderful, but my cock was still soft and I’d lost that edge of need I’d had in the shower. I tried not to panic about it, but I was also starting to realize that anal might not be as magical as all the other things we’d done together. There were all sorts of logistics to work out, and I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.
This is where being demisexual kind of fucked with my head. I didn’t know if the loss of desire was just a temporary issue, if it was the asexual side of me asserting itself, or if I was just never meant to enjoy this kind of sex.
One thing we’d always told the kids in the group was that there was nothing wrong with how their bodies reacted to certain things. I’d also been on a number of demisexual forums, and some of those folks had sex with their loved ones because they knew that their loved ones enjoyed it, and they personally weren’t repulsed by it. I’d been hoping for something a little stronger thannot repulsed, though.
My biggest takeaway was that stressing out about it only made everything worse and also made it hard to identify what I was really feeling. So, rather than getting myself all spun up about the loss of pleasure, I decided to simply enjoy the closeness.
“Hey,” he whispered. “You still with me?”
His question was a reminder that I had gotten into my head, and that I was missing out on the intimacy of the moment.
“I am. Sorry, just had to settle myself in here,” I said, tapping my temple.
He smiled and brushed my hair back. “Let’s just make out for now and see where that goes.”
I nodded, then lowered my lips to his, kissing him softly. He returned the kiss, just as softly, and the muscles in my neck and shoulders—which I hadn’t realized were so tense—released. He caressed my ass as he pushed his tongue into my mouth, and his confident touches fired up a tightness in my groin.
I pressed my cock into his belly, rolling my hips a little, and discovered I liked that a lot. Even better, when I rocked back, I rocked into his heavy erection. I liked that he was hard for me.
“I want your fingers,” I whispered.
“Yeah?” he asked, searching my eyes.
“I really do.”
He deepened our kiss and opened the lube one-handed, spreading a bit more on his fingers. Pulling aside one of my cheeks, he again rubbed his slick finger up and down my crease.Yes, I liked that, too. He circled my hole until it relaxed enough for him, then pushed a finger inside. This time, it felt wonderful.
We continued making out, kissing as he finger-fucked me. I adjusted, and he brushed over my prostate. This’d felt good in the kitchen, but now it was a little numb.
“Does that not feel good?” he asked.
“I—it’s not bad. It just doesn’t feel like much.”
“Do you think another finger would help?”
I nodded, this time anticipating the additional stretch. There was a little pain with it but not that much, and I quickly adjusted. Once I’d settled into the sensation, he used the two fingers to pet that same bit of nerves as before, and?—
“Oh,” I said, starting to breathe heavily. “Oh shit. There it goes,” I said, and he laughed.
“Glad to hear it,” he said with a grin. “Sometimes it just needs a little warming up.”
