A Spy in the House of Ass

Posted by Lex Konrad in Sex | Mar 14, 2006

Leslie’s in her white wig and retro Seventies shades. She looks like a porn star. It’s appropriate for where we are, at Crash Mansion, with its stuccoed slate interior and subdued lighting. Producers, genuine porn stars, vendors and press people flit about. A young woman asks us if we’re part of the production and we both laugh. Someone else corners us, plies us with champagne, promises to send us a lifetime supply of sex toys.

“How did my life turn into Boogie Nights?” I ask my fiancee.

Perhaps it’s just that I have a hard time saying no. My default setting always seems to be “why the hell not?”

I run into Dacia and the two of us chat for a while; I tease her about being a porn celebrity. “So how do I compare to my blogging persona?” Dacia asks me, her breasts threatening at any moment to tumble out of a corset that barely contains them.

I think about her question for a moment. “I guess you’re more charming than I thought you’d be, and, um, well,” I pause, smiling, looking her up and down, “you’re even hotter than I expected.”

Tired from partying all weekend, Les and I pack it in early, grabbing a couple schwag bags on the way out. I rummage through my goody bag as we cruise uptown; among the many promotional items are two butt plugs and a bullet vibrator. I have an idea.

The next evening, after Les calls to tell me she’s on her way home from work, I try out one of the butt plugs, intending to surprise my babe upon her arrival. Now I’m no stranger to ass toys (I’ve indulged Leslie’s curiosity on a few occasions) but I’ve never had anything up there for an extended stay. The butt plug isn’t painful really, just mildly uncomfortable. I try to do a little work and find myself unable to concentrate on anything other than the thought that I have something up my ass.

And this is just a wee little thing, squat and fat, sure, but small compared to the ones you might find in a Chelsea sex boutique.

The minutes tick by. I fidget.

And then the phone rings: it’s the Swedish girl. I take a deep breath and answer. While we talk I have to fight the temptation to conclude every sentence with: “and by the way I have a butt plug up my fucking ass!”

I wonder what she’d think of me if she knew?

When Leslie finally arrives I promptly drop my trousers. “Touch my ass,” I command.

She appears confused at first but then palms a cheek. When her fingers tap against the flattened base of the buttplug she squeals with delight and begins to giggle uncontrollably. Her girlish noises cease when my cock enters her mouth.

“Don’t get too excited yet, babe—I’m gonna try your toys on you.” I lead her into the bedroom, undressing her, pushing her onto her back, warming her up with my tongue and then slathering her jiggly behind with lube. I insert the silver bullet into her cunt and hand her the controller: “Go ahead and turn it on.” As she cranks up the amplitude she squirms and laughs. I take advantage of her distracted condition and push the long, slim, jelly-like buttplug into her ass.

“Oh this is fun,” she says.

I pull both toys out and reinsert the silver bullet, this time choosing the narrower opening.

“Hey!” Les says.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I want you to fuck my pussy and see if you can feel the vibrator.” And sure enough when I enter her I feel the silver bullet buzzing away in her other hole; the vibration doesn’t get me off, exactly, but it does add something. With each thrust my butt plug threatens to fall out and so I take a break to remove it—I find it too distracting to try to hold the thing in—and as soon as the toy vacates my ass a feeling of relief washes over me. Why do I bang my head against the wall? Because it feels so good when I stop.

My girl’s eyes grow wide as I remove the fatter butt plug from its packaging and brandish it before her. “You wanna put that in me?”

“C’mon, it’s not that big. I had mine in for like half an hour.”

She relents. I watch, fascinated, as her little asshole expands to accommodate the plug at its widest cross-section and then collapses around the narrow neck above the base, locking the toy into position. Leslie sighs. I pull her to the edge of the mattress, push her legs against her chest and plunge into her cunt. “Now you have both holes filled, you little slut!”

And when she comes the butt plug shoots out of her, bouncing off the wooden floor like a rubber ball. We both giggle. I switch holes—if the butt plug won’t keep her rear-end occupied I will—and it’s not long before I burst inside her, my knees threatening to buckle.

We’re both looking forward to more pervy schwag. Sure beats the hell out of an iPod.

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