CHAPTER 28
Chris
I picked up the plug and the lube and moved behind Valerie, my cock straining against the front of my robe as I gazed down at the adorable, round, apple-red cheeks framed by the naughty training panties. I uncapped the lube and squeezed a generous amount onto my fingers, letting it warm against my skin for a moment the way the NMA husband’s guide had recommended. Cold lubricant on a nervous wife’s anus was a rookie mistake, the brochure had said—the kind of thing that could jolt her out of the headspace I’d spent all evening building.
“Reach back,” I said. “Spread yourself open for me. Show me where I’m going to put my cock.”
Valerie’s sob was muffled by the couch cushion, but her hands came back. Trembling, reluctant, her fingers found the curves of her blazing cheeks and pulling them apart with the kind of agonizing slowness I’d remembered her describing in the video from Stacy and Kevin’s story. The motion spread her open completely, and there it was: the tight, clenched rosebud of heranus, a tiny pink star that seemed to pulse with each shuddering breath she took.
I touched the little button with my slicked finger, and she flinched so hard her whole body jerked against the couch arm.
“Hold still,” I said, pressing my left hand firmly against the small of her back, pinning her waist to the upholstery. She squirmed beneath the pressure—a helpless, full-body writhe that made her punished cheeks clench and release around her own spread fingers. “Bear down for me, Val. Push out.”
“I c-can’t?—”
“You can.” I kept my voice even, steady, ceremonial. The way Kevin had spoken to Stacy, I felt certain. The way Valerie had told me, in her halting, tear-soaked confession, that she needed it to be done. “Push out. Let me in.”
My finger circled her opening—slow, patient loops through the warm lubricant, spreading it across that wonderfully tight ring of muscle. Valerie whimpered into the cushion, her hips trying to twist away, but my left hand held her firmly in place. I could feel the resistance in her body, the way every muscle from her shoulders to her thighs had gone rigid with the instinct to clench, to protect, to keep me out of this last unconquered territory.
“Breathe,” I told her, remembering the NMA’s advice again. “In through your nose. Out through your mouth. That’s it.”
She obeyed with a ragged, hitching breath that expanded her ribs beneath my palm. On the exhale, I felt the tiniest yielding beneath my fingertip. Not much. Just a softening, a fractional loosening of that fierce little knot. I pressed gently, and the tip of my finger slipped inside.
Valerie’s cry was high and desperate, her fingers digging into her own cheeks hard enough to leave white marks in the paddled flesh. Her anus gripped my fingertip like a vise, hot and thrillingly tight, and I had to hold myself very still to keep from pushing deeper before she was ready.
“Good girl,” I murmured. “That’s the hardest part. You’re doing so well.”
My cock had gotten so hard it felt genuinely uncomfortable—the head pressing against the fabric of my robe with an insistence that bordered on painful. Every instinct in my body was screaming at me to untie the belt, bend my wife’s hips up another inch, and bury myself in that virgin tightness right now, right here over the couch arm, ceremony be damned.
I didn’t. This wasn’t about what my cock wanted. Not yet. This was about building something—making something beautiful, making sure every element was plumb and level before the next one went in. Valerie had told me what she needed, even if she’d needed me to coax the words out of her with my fingers on her clit and her own bashful tears on her cheeks. She needed the ritual. She needed the ceremony. She needed to feel the significance of every single thing I did to her bottom tonight.
I worked my finger deeper, just to the first knuckle, then withdrew it and added more lubricant. Valerie squirmed beneath my hand—not away from me, I noticed, but in small, involuntary undulations that pressed her mound against the couch arm. Her pussy had started to betray her again, the way it always did. The way nature had designed a naughty girl’s pussy to betray her.
“I’m going to put the plug in now,” I said, withdrawing my finger entirely. I picked up the tapered silicone toy and coatedit thoroughly, turning it in my hand until the surface gleamed. “Keep holding your little bottom open.”
* * *
Valerie
I felt the cool, tapered tip of the plug touch my anus. Every muscle in my body seemed to seize at once. The silicone was slippery with lubricant and warmer than I’d expected. Chris must have held it in his hand to take the chill off a bit.
The pressure of it against that tiny opening sent a bolt of panic through me that overrode everything else, though. I heard a little whimper come from my mouth as if some other girl had emitted it.
“Push out,” Chris reminded me. His left hand stayed firm against the small of my back, an anchor holding me in place over the couch arm, imposing his authority. I wouldn’t get up until I had the terrible thing lodged inside my virgin bottom, that hand told me. “Just like you did for my finger. Bear down.”
I tried. I tried, even though if felt so shameful I wanted to dissolve into the air. I pushed the way my body knew how to do, the way Kevin had taught Stacy.
I let out a moan as I felt the tip begin to breach me.
“Oh… oh… oh, no…” I whispered, shaking my head at the slow, inexorable widening that made my breath stutter and my fingers dig harder into my own spread cheeks. The stretch didn’t resemble anything I’d ever felt. Not quite pain, but discomfort, definitely.
Too much: too much fullness, too much pressure. The mortifying, insistent opening of a place that had never been opened before from the outside… by an object… by a firm-handed husband.
“Oh… oh, God… Chris… sir…”
My voice came out strangled, muffled against the couch cushion. The plug had started to widen, past the narrow tip and into the thicker middle, and my poor, untried anus burned as its tiny ring stretched around the bulge. I could feel every millimeter of it—the smooth silicone sliding through the circle of muscle, my body fighting to resist and failing, failing, being opened whether I wanted it or not.
“Almost there,” Chris said. “You’re doing beautifully, Val. Just a little more. You look so sexy taking a plug in your butt hole.”
