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His whole body tensed as he tried to move against the restraints. He started to talk but I stopped him in mid-sentence and reminded him that he was not to talk until dinner. I informed him that I would go slow and that I knew his body well enough to know if the pain was too much and that he was too trust me. He murmured o.k., closed his eyes, and slumped against the table. After generously applying more lube, I moved in behind him to get ready. It was at that moment that I thought he might be right, that thing was huge. I gently squeezed and massaged his cheeks around the head of the dildo and slowly began pushing it into him. He was loosened enough from the previous dildo so that his ass accepted the new one, but I could see how much more it had to stretch and I could feel his apprehension under me. I went very slowly and it actually took several minutes for the head to pass his sphincter. He moaned loudly as it slowly began to enter him. I could tell he wasn't relaxing like he. But what alternative was there?"Um... there's no toilet paper. I can't wipe. Do you have anything?" She knew that he didn't normally keep anything like that in his pockets anyway. There just wasn't room for a man to carry anything that they might need in a few pockets, and with the big event tonight, he'd slimmed down to the bare minimum.He shook his head. "Uh... do you really have to wipe? I mean, if you only peed, it's not a big deal, right?"She grimaced, and felt her cheeks burn. "I... yeeah. I didn't just pee." Maybe there's something in the car? Your purse?"She pursed her lips, and shook her head. "No. I cleaned it all out today. Just a tiny clutch, and not even a napkin in there." Well, um.... maybe I can figure something out. Can I come in?"She opened the door, standing brazenly under the bright fluorescent, as he walked in, her perky breasts, and shapely legs briefly visible to anyone that might be out in the dark watching, her only clothes the black hose and heals she was.
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The old Volkswagen Rabbit slowed, and I set my book on the coffee table to look out the window. The diesel engine was distinctive in its sound as she idled, waiting for a pair of pickups to pass so that she could turn into the driveway of the family home. With a fond smile, I watched as Cassie got out of the small silver car. Her parents were not home yet, so there was no one to greet her, but she did not seem to mind as she stood and stretched after the three-hour drive, her breasts straining beneath the orange shirt which had been tucked into her jeans. Then she looked across the street, toward my house. I do not believe she saw me, for I was sitting well away from the window, but she locked the car and headed toward the street. At first, I thought that she might be checking the mailbox, but she crossed the sidewalk and the asphalt, definitely heading toward my front door. I resumed reading, so that she could feel that she had surprised me. When the doorbell rang, I took my.

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