Anal Aftermath

I just read Whitman’s account of our totally successful but nearly-disastrous crisis-averted lost anal plug story! It’s sort of funny in retrospect, and it was sort of funny just after it happened, but as it was happening?? OHMYGAHHH…

I do like anal sex. It doesn’t always work out for me, but when it does, it’s amazing. This was one of those cases. It worked. It realllly worked. Whitman had fucked my ass, and fucked it for real. Pounded it, even. Wow, was I feeling good! Lying in the bed, my hands still loosely attached to my thighs, basking in the throbbing afterglow… and what an afterglow!

Smug. That’s how I felt.

Totally smug.

It worked!

Successful anal sex!

Yes!

I reached back with my cuffed hands to touch the plug that Whitman had placed in my ass. I was touching for proof, mostly. I was in a little disbelief that it was inside of me. It’s usually a little bit of work, and I hadn’t even felt this one go in my ass.

I barely touched the little glass base, and felt it it move. It moved like it was just snuggling in to a better position. And it kept moving. And didn’t stop. WHAT?! I felt the flat glass base slip right away from my fingers. Feeling panic, I moved my fingers closer to my asshole, and tried to grab the plug. I felt nothing but the quick slide of the toy and my ass closing around it. With the cuffs around my wrists and thighs, I was helpless to do anything more.

What was going to through my mind was, “ohmygodohmygodohmygodnonononoooo…!!”
That thought was followed by a quick yelp for Whitman, who had gone to wash up,  “comebackcombackcomeback!!’”
He did, and I managed to squeak out what had happened, and added, “I’m not going to the hospital for this!” He looked, he felt for it, rapidly decided this was above his pay grade, and let me loose.

As you read, I successfully ‘removed’ the plug (and a little santorum, if you must know) by squatting and pushing – like birthing the smallest baby ever, and that’s the happy ending.