$name1 spends a filthy weekend letting her husband stretch, plug, and finally fuck her virgin arse until she begs for every inch.
$name1 had promised him by spring. It was now a rainy Friday in March, and the plug in her handbag felt heavier than her laptop.
She was thirty, married to Dan for four years, and her arse had always been off-limits — until the night she got drunk on prosecco and confessed she touched herself thinking about it. Dan had bought training plugs the next morning. Tonight the largest of the set was waiting at home, and $name1’s cunt was already wet on the Tube thinking about what he planned to do to her. Every jolt of the carriage made her squeeze her thighs together. She felt like a secret waiting to burst.
He met her at the door naked, hard, holding the black silicone plug and a bottle of lube. “Clothes off. Bed. Ass up.”
She stripped, blushing hard, and knelt on all fours on their duvet. Dan kissed the small of her back, spread her cheeks, and licked her tight hole until she whimpered into the pillow. His tongue was filthy and patient. Cold lube followed. Then the plug — thicker than last week’s — pressing, stretching, popping past her ring. $name1 gasped and clutched the sheets. Full. Obscenely full. Her empty cunt dripped onto the bed in a dark spot.
“Wear it through dinner,” Dan said, voice rough with pride. “Then we go bigger.”
They ate takeaway curry with the plug lodged deep in her arse. Every shift of her hips made her moan. Dan made her sit on his lap after and grind against his cock through his joggers while the plug shifted inside her. She came like that — clothed, stuffed, shameless — biting his shoulder so the neighbours wouldn’t hear. He wouldn’t let her take it out. He made her wash up, still plugged, and watch telly with her head in his lap while he stroked her hair like she was something precious and filthy at once.
Saturday morning he removed the plug slowly, watching her hole wink open, and replaced it with his greased fingers. One. Two. Three. Scissoring her open while she moaned into the pillow and pushed back for more. “You’re taking it so well,” he murmured. “This hungry little hole is almost ready for my cock. Look at you. My proper wife with her arse on display.”
“Do it,” $name1 begged. “Fuck my arse. I need it. I’ve been thinking about nothing else all week.”
“Not yet. One more size.”
The final plug was brutal. She cried out when it sank home, thighs shaking, then laughed wetly when the ache melted into filthy pleasure. Dan fucked her cunt with a vibrator while the plug stretched her arse and she came so hard she squirted across the sheets. He made her thank him. She did, sobbing it, addicted already.
Sunday afternoon he decided she was ready.
$name1 lay on her back, knees to her chest, watching Dan slick his cock with lube. He was thicker than the largest plug. Her stomach fluttered with nerves and lust. He pressed the head to her glistening hole and looked her in the eye.
“Breathe out,” he said. “Push against me. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
She did. The head popped in. White heat. She swore, grabbed his wrists, forced herself to relax. Inch by inch he fed his cock into her virgin arse until his hips met her cheeks and she was skewered, stuffed, claimed. Tears pricked her eyes — not from pain now, but from how filthy and full and loved she felt.
“Fuck,” Dan groaned. “Your arse is gripping me so tight. My perfect dirty wife. I’m all the way in. Feel that?”
“I feel everything,” she whispered. “Move. Please. Fuck your wife’s arse.”
He fucked her slow at first, long strokes that dragged against every nerve. $name1’s hand flew to her clit. The dual sensation — cock in her arse, fingers on her swollen bud — shattered her within minutes. She came screaming, arse clenching rhythmically around him, and Dan lost control. He pounded her harder, balls slapping, watching his cock disappear into her stretched hole. The wet filthy sounds filled their quiet bedroom.
“I’m going to come in your arse,” he growled. “Take it. Take every drop. You earned it.”
“Yes — fill me — breed my fucking arse — don’t pull out —”
He buried deep and flooded her. Hot pulses. She felt every spurt. When he pulled out, come leaked from her gaping hole onto the towel beneath them. $name1 reached down, touched the mess, and pushed some back inside with two fingers while Dan watched, stunned and devoted. She licked her fingertip and smiled.
“Again,” she whispered, still panting. “After you harden up. I want to ride you reverse cowgirl so you can watch my fucked arse bounce on your cock.”
He was hard again in ten minutes. She rode him facing away, hands on his knees, slamming her newly trained hole down onto him until they both came again — her clit under her own fingers, his cock jerking inside her arse for the second time that day. Come ran down his balls. She stayed seated on him until he softened, unwilling to be empty.
That night she slept with a smaller plug in, Dan’s arm around her waist, a smug ache deep inside reminding her what she had given him. Anal training weekend: complete. And $name1 already knew next Friday she would bend over the kitchen counter the moment he got home and demand his cock in her arse before dinner — dinner she would cook still leaking, still his, still hungry for the next stretch.
