He leans toward my ear once more, and speaks quietly and intimately. “I’ll go slow, but you have to relax.” His quiet words are purred into my ear. My stress starts to melt, and I do relax. Perhaps only marginally, but it’s a start.

He stands once again, and after applying an over-generous amount of lubricant to his finger, he parts my cheeks and gently starts to work the slick wetness into my bottom. He is slow, just as he was the first time he touched me in this way. Small, slow thrusting gradually moving deeper and deeper. Once his finger is all the way in, he withdraws and gently adds a second finger. He again moves from shallow thrusts, increasing deeper and deeper. His penetration and the incredibly serious and concerned look in his eyes turn me on. I’m wet, though he’s not touched my sex at all. I want his hands on me there, but I know I’ll have to wait. As he finally finishes readying my body for him, he lines himself up to my most secret entry. He’s watching my eyes, and I’m watching his as well.

I can still hear the conversation between Frederick and the man outside in my bedroom. The man is calm, but they are waiting for Derek and me to return. The man wants me to hold good to my word and finish what we’d started, and with a hasty look to my eyes, Derek whispers, “We don’t have much time.”

And with that, he rolls the condom onto his length, and slowly, incredibly slowly, starts pushing the head of his cock past the rim of my anus. The first push is painful, and I immediately tense and cry out, but his strokes are shallow and retreat quickly, and at his retreat, I start to relax again. The next shallow thrust moves just ever so slightly deeper. He is watching his cock penetrate my bottom. He’s studying every stroke, and controlling his every movement.

He continues to stroke shallow and retreat quickly, again building deeper and deeper with each push. And with every invasion, I learn to still my muscles and relax against the pain and firm, invasive force. The invasion, while controlled and gentle, is far more intense than anything I’ve ever felt. This supersedes losing my virginity to Derek, but I’m also desperate for it to be Derek, so I focus my entire mind on relaxing my muscles, and he pushes farther and farther. It’s astounding that my body is accommodating the length and girth of his cock in this way, and yet gradually, he moves deeper and deeper within me. This feeling is more filling, stretching, and aching than any sensation I’ve experienced with him. And Derek was right, every time I start to tense, the pain shoots through my body, and yet when I can keep my muscles relaxed, the pain fades to the background.

As his strokes continue to move deeper and deeper, he adds more lubrication to the rim of my anus. His movements are so controlled, and I can see it is a strain. He’s aroused, and his body wants to thrust and to fuck me, but he’s maintaining a very tight rein on his movements.

Once he’s buried deep inside me and his breathing is picking up, though he fights to keep his strokes even and smooth, he whispers, “I’m almost done, sweetie.”

His words send electricity through my body. I’d hated the pudgy romantic calling me “sweetie” a mere two nights before, but whispered from the lips of this man, the word is so personal and perfect—so very appropriate. I’m reminded that though terrified of what we’re doing, I’m still wet and dripping with desire for him. This act is turning out to be incredibly erotic and intimate, or maybe it’s just the way his eyes watch mine so carefully. His arousal is building, but he’s maintaining absolute control of his movements, and it is with gritted teeth and a pained look on his face that he finally comes, buried inside of me and dropping his forehead to my back. His clenching hands and shuddering breaths are the only movement of his body at all. When he’s done, he slowly pulls himself from my bottom, watching every last inch of himself leave my body. It’s done; he’s bought me two more weeks without this terror, and now butt man can’t touch me. I wouldn’t have had it any other way, and for all the discomfort, and even pain, I’d go through it all again with Derek. There is something so intensely erotic about having given him that one final part of my body. He raises his head from my back to meet my eyes. His concern is gone, and relief floods over his face.

As I stand, I stretch my back, and he picks up my dress from the floor, handing it to me. I slip it back on quickly as he dresses. I want to touch him. I want to kiss him, hold him, anything at all, but as I step toward him, he gives me a warning look. He finishes dressing, and then he leans toward my ear, reminding me that the cameras are on and security is watching.

We return to my bedroom, and as Fredrick takes in Derek’s untucked shirt, his face scrunches up, and he shakes his head. Butt man speaks first. “I want her. I want to fuck her ass, and I want you to make her.”

Derek, now replete and unfazed, responds, “I’m sorry. She wasn’t trained properly for anal sex. I’ve taken care of that, but she won’t be available for that service for another couple of weeks. I’m sure I can find another woman that will satisfy you far more than an inexperienced whore could.”

His words don’t sting in the least. They aren’t his feelings, and he’s only playing his part in this mess that, quite frankly, I created.

But butt man is pissed. “What the fuck does that mean? I paid for her, and I want her!”

“I’m sorry. I assumed you wouldn’t want her after she failed to do her job, and quite frankly, I thought a swift punishment was in order. I assure you, she won’t refuse a man her ass again. I’ve made certain she understands how to do her job. That also means she won’t be available for another two weeks. I’m so sorry.” The eat-shit look in Derek’s eyes isn’t fooling anyone, least of all butt man.

He knows full well that Derek fucked me to keep me away from him. I’m sure butt man believes this to have been out of spite. I, on the other hand, know it had far more to do with my wishes than his own. But butt man is livid, and as he yells and screams every insult he can come up with at Derek, Derek looks coolly back at him. Butt man finally storms from the room with Frederick following behind. As Frederick reaches the door, he turns around and takes us both in. With a “humph” and a shake of his head, he trails after butt man, leaving Derek and I alone.

Before Derek leaves, he asks me to wait in his room, and as he walks me across the hall, he excuses himself to do some “damage control” downstairs. He doesn’t seem mad at me, though he would have every right to be, and I wonder what damage control could possibly entail. Mr. Grayson will have, without a doubt, heard by now about my little choke, and I hate that Derek’s being forced to fix my mess. The fact that it could involve Mr. Grayson makes me feel even guiltier.

I wait for what feels like an eternity, though the clock says it’s only been fifteen minutes. I’m anxious, worrying about Derek. I want to go downstairs and fix this mess myself, but I know he would kill me. He wants me here, and I get it. It’s safe here; it isn’t downstairs. And were I able to take his place, I would in an instant. He understands that protective feeling too. It’s why he’s downstairs instead of me. He cares, and so do I. It’s an impossible mess.

There is an open bottle of wine on his kitchen counter, and I help myself. When he enters and sees me in the kitchen, I trill at being caught making myself so at home in his private space. But he walks to me instantly, pulling me into his arms. He’s definitely not mad, and he’s definitely comfortable with me being in his space. He grabs the wine bottle, a second glass, and with my hand in his, he leads me to the bathroom.

After the bath is drawn, and he’s undressed himself and then me, we settle into the warmth together, and he pulls me into his body. His hands trail gently down my back and over the round cheeks of my bottom. When he reaches the backs of my thighs, he pulls my legs to straddle his and returns his hands to my bottom. As he delves between my cheeks, he brushes lightly over the puckered skin of my anus. He rubs gently but doesn’t penetrate me.

As he reaches his other hand to my face, pulling my mouth to his, he pauses and asks, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” I shake my head, but he doesn’t believe me. “You’re sore.” It isn’t a question.

I smile gently at his worry, and I nod. There’s no sense lying to him. He’ll know if I do. But then I close the space between our mouths and kiss him gently, savoring his lips slowly.

When I pull from his mouth, his eyes are searching mine, and I finally speak. “I wanted it to be you. I asked for this. You can’t feel bad for doing what I wanted.” I’m imploring him to see my side of this, but he holds himself so responsible for me.

“Just because it was your idea didn’t make it a good idea.” But he’s smirking, and I can see that he’s relaxing, so I decide to push him just a bit further.

“Did my bottom feel good to you? I was incredibly wet for you. Shocked the hell out me, quite frankly.” I wink a quick and hopefully seductive eye at him—very uncharacteristic for me. Must be the wine…

But he does seductive so much better than me, and his next words have me eating out of the palm of his hand. The fact that his finger is again stroking lightly over my anus doesn’t help matters. “I thought nothing could get tighter than your pussy. I was wrong. But, I’ll take that wetness now if you don’t mind.” With his own smirk, and a wink, he kisses me again.

He takes me to bed and has me on my hands and knees with my chest to the bed and my ass up high. And I wait for his touch. The lights are on, and he’s eyeing me closely. When I feel the bed move behind me, my heart starts to race in anticipation, and I know that his fingers or his cock will be the next to touch my sensitized pussy, but I’m wrong, and as his hands part the cheeks of my bottom and his mouth instantly touches my anus, I gasp and pull forward in panic. But Derek gets his way, and he just as quickly pulls my hips back to his waiting mouth. He holds me firmly in place as his tongue starts to move across the puckered skin. Holy shit!