Less than fifteen minutes until my escort is due to arrive.

Despite the promise I made to myself, I’ve gone and dressed up. Well, okay, “up” is an overstatement. But I’m in a skirt and a cute T-shirt, and I showered and did my hair for the first time in longer than I can count. I even dusted on some foundation and a touch of mascara. Just in case. It makes me feel a little less nervous, to know that I look decent.

Only a little less, though. Most of my nerve endings feel like they’re on fire, and my stomach is set to churn itself right out of my body.

I pace over to the windows for what feels like the tenth time and quickly check the street outside. No sign of a car yet.

I sit back down and force myself not to check again. He’ll get here when he gets here.

Or maybe he won’t. Maybe this is all a big misunderstanding on his end too. Maybe he’s double-booked or he’ll need to cancel. Maybe he didn’t mean to accept that email either.

I find myself praying he doesn’t show. Then I can just retreat upstairs, treat myself to a long hard session with my toys, on my own thank you very much, and go to sleep early.

At least I’ll have good fodder for my imagination tonight. Unbidden, the image of Caleb—which cannot be his real name—rises to mind. I doubt that photo included his real abs either. There’s no way a guy exists with a body that perfect. Not to mention his face—the cut cheekbones, the perfect amount of scruffy beard below his sharp gray eyes and his narrow nose. The way he stared into the screen, it felt like he could see right through the computer to me. I can’t even imagine how intense that look must be in real life.

Unable to help myself, I picture him undressed in the same room as me. I start to imagine how exactly he’d fulfill his promise—his promise to fill me like no other man ever has. I envision him bending me over the couch in my living room and pinning my arms to the cushions while he undoes my belt, runs a hand along the seam of my panties. He’d have thick, strong fingers, thick enough to drive me wild when he slips one under the string of my thong, tugs it aside and pushes one finger up to his knuckle inside my tight pussy…

My doorbell rings.

I gasp and leap off the couch. Damn. My panties feel a little bit wet already. I’m letting my imagination run away with itself. Calm down, Carmine. I’m not going to fuck this guy. Not even going to entertain the idea.

I’m just here to explain the misunderstanding and ask him to be on his way.

I cross the living room, take a deep breath, and open the door.

Then I immediately lose that breath of air all over again.

The man standing on my doorstep looks like he just stepped out of every woman’s wet dream. He’s dressed casually in a tight T-shirt that shows off his bulging biceps, his strong chest and even his flat, washboard abs. I can count the ridges through the fabric.

Guess that photo wasn’t photoshopped after all.

As expected, those piercing gray eyes are even more intense in person. He smiles at me, a crooked half-smile that makes my heart seize in my chest and my belly tighten in anticipation. He looks ready to eat me alive—and I want to let him.

I stagger back a step, all the pre-planned words I meant to say trapping themselves in my throat at once.

“You must be Carmine,” he says, still grinning that half-grin.

Any remaining resistance I might have drummed up dies as soon as I hear his voice. Of course. I should have guessed from his name. Caleb British.

I can’t help it. It’s too fucking much—I have to laugh. So I do.

He steps inside—I back away from the door enough to give him space, and I can’t think of anything else to do now except close it behind him. At least I can let him down in private. “What’s so funny?” he asks, one brow lifted.

“Should have guessed you were British,” I respond when I manage to find my voice. “From your name.”

“I’m from London, yes. Fake name though, obviously,” he replies, though he’s still smiling.

“Obviously,” I echo.

“But enough about me. I want to hear about you, Carmine.” He angles himself toward me.

Without thinking, I step backwards, toward the living room. He follows, until I’m trapped between this towering, muscular, hot-as-hell man and the back of my couch. I lean against the couch in what I hope looks like a casual move, rather than the truth—like my knees have lost the ability to keep me upright by their own volition.

“Me?” I shake my head. “Oh, I don’t know, I’m… I’m just from here, nothing exciting…”

“Why did you hire me?” He tilts his head.

“Does there need to be a story?” I ask, biting my lip.

“There usually is. I want to hear yours.” His eyes bore into me; will me to tell him the truth.

“I… Well. I don’t have a lot of free time to date or anything. So, it’s… been a while.”

His gaze dips over my body again. “I find that hard to believe.”

I flush. “I work a lot.”

“What do you do?” He leans against the wall, still eying me, totally shameless about it.

“I own a bakery,” I say. “Red Velvet.”

His eyes widen. “The new place that everyone is talking about?”

“You’ve heard of us?” My cheeks really burn now.

“Of course. You’re all my sister can talk about lately.” He laughs softly. Then seems to remember himself, and shakes his head, stepping closer to me. “So, you’re too busy to date…”

“And, I… I find it difficult to find people who like… Um, the same things.”

“Judging by that message you sent describing what you like, I’d beg to differ,” he replies, tilting his head. He lets his eyes roam over my body, lingering a long time on my chest, then my legs below my skirt. He makes no bones about checking me out—in fact, checking me out seems like an understatement. More like he’s weighing me to decide if he can throw me over his shoulder and kidnap me for his own.

I’d let him, at this point.

I swallow, hard.

“I’ve got to say, Carmine, you caught my attention with that description. You were so detailed, so forthright.” He takes another step closer. I’m already back against the couch. I have nowhere to go but here. I plant my feet and tilt my head back to keep my eyes locked on his as he stands over me. God, he’s huge. I can only imagine what his cock must look like.

Bad Carmine, I scold myself.

Still imagining it though. Not to mention the fact that he’s talking about what I wrote on that site—that filthy description of my darkest secrets—as though it’s sexy to him.

“I appreciate a girl who’s upfront about what she wants.” He smirks and raises an eyebrow. “Not to mention someone who’s as fucking kinky as I am.”

We’ll see about that, I think. “It’s hard to find people who like the same things you do,” I answer honestly, for once. “Especially when it’s kinky.”

“I find it hard to believe that you have any shortage of guys wanting to fill you up,” he counters.

My face flushes bright red. “To be honest, a few have tried,” I respond. I lock eyes with him. If he scares easily, this is where it’ll happen. “But I’m very particular.”

“Good,” he answers right away, without thinking. He takes another step closer, so he’s just inches from me now. I can feel the heat radiating off his body, feel the ghost of his breath on my cheeks. “I prefer a challenge.”

My whole body flares. Goddamn. No man has ever responded quite like that before. But still, my mind races ahead of my traitor body. Reminds me what I came here to do. “Look, Caleb, I should tell you something…”

He lifts one hand to trail it up my arm, tracing all the way from my wrist up to my shoulder.

Fuck. That one touch sets my whole body alight. I feel a rush of desire curling in my gut. My pussy feels tight with anticipation, and my clit throbs with desire. My panties were already damp—now they’re going to be soaking by the time I get him out of here.

Should I get him out of here?

I shake my head. Of course. I need to. I can’t hook up with an escort. No matter how fucking sexy he might be. Or how into me he seems. Or how much he actually seems to like the same things I do.

He’s only into you because you’re paying him to be, I remind myself.

“I, um, there was a mistake with my form,” I manage to say.

He tilts his head to one side. “Did you forget to add something?” That smile widens. “Maybe a domination fantasy… Or if you’d like to be tied up, I have some rope in the car…”

My face could start a small forest fire now. “No, that’s not—I didn’t mean to confirm the appointment, that’s all.”

For a moment, I see something flash across his face. Something almost like… Disappointment?

That can’t be right.

“I’ll still pay you—you came all the way out here. I just didn’t mean to actually book you, I’m sorry.”

“Having second thoughts?” He lets his hand drop from my shoulder. My skin burns where his touch was a moment ago, still hot. It feels like he left a brand on my skin. I want him to touch me again. “That’s natural,” he says, backing up a step to give me space. Immediately I want him to move closer again too. “When you have a fantasy for a long time, it can feel strange to actually have the chance to live it out.”

“I…” I pause to lick my lips. The way he talks, it’s like he knows he can actually fulfill my dreams. Not like my exes or other guys I’ve hooked up with. Not nervous or worried or doubting. He’s so confident—so damned sure of himself. And so into this kink. It’s hot as hell. But I force myself to shake my head again. “It’s not that. I just didn’t mean to hire an…”

“An escort?” he laughs. “What, did you just wind up on our website by accident?”

“Yes.” I nod firmly. “Complete accident.”

“Right. And you just clicked on my profile by accident too. You didn’t think, here’s a man who can really fuck me senseless, stuff me full and give me the good hard drilling I’m begging for.”

I swallow again, trying to wet my lips. “Also… Also an accident, yeah.”

“So you don’t want me to try?” He raises a single eyebrow and lets his gaze sweep over my body again. “You don’t want me to bend you backwards over this couch right here and fuck you while I shove my thumb inside your ass?”

My pussy throbs. My clit feels like a heavy lead weight between my thighs. God, I’m going to have to jerk off for so long tonight to get him out of my head.

“Um…” I can’t make myself deny it. Not when he’s staring at me like this.

He steps in closer again and reaches up. This time he bypasses my arm, trails his fingertip along the nape of my neck instead. Traces the edge of my jawline lightly, feather soft. A sharp contrast to the way he’s talking right now. “You don’t want to take me upstairs, show me your collection of sex toys, and let me fuck you with every single toy in that collection, one after the other?” His smile goes deep, seductive. “I bet we could go all night and not run out of new toys to try, couldn’t we, you kinky girl?”

“Probably,” I answer without thinking, eyes locked on his.

He laughs again, louder. “I love your filthy mind, Carmine. So come on. Are you really going to tell me you don’t want this? If you don’t, say it and I’ll leave.”

I hesitate. Stare up at him. His grin widens.

“If you want me to stay, then show me your bedroom…”

We don’t have to have sex, I tell myself. Even though I’m already imagining his cock. How fucking glorious it would feel to have a real live man fucking me again, instead of just my toys. Not to mention this man. This perfect fucking specimen. This man who’s standing right here telling me he wants to act out my darkest fantasies.

I grab his hand before I can think better of it and tug him up my staircase.

“I thought so,” he laughs as he trails after me.

I glance over my shoulder at him. “It’s the first door on the right,” I say, still standing halfway up the staircase. “If you really want to take me.”

He reads my mind. Caleb grabs me and flings me over his shoulder with ease. I’m not a tiny girl, but for him it seems to be nothing. He carries me up the steps without even slowing, and turns right at the landing, kicking open my door to carry me across the threshold. His body is white-hot against mine, his muscles digging into my stomach, my thighs, my chest.

By the time he tosses me across the bed, I can hardly breathe from anticipation. He drops onto the bed on all fours above me and I lie back, gazing up at him, my breath trapped in my chest.

“Which drawer?” he asks, and I catch my breath. This is it. The moment I’ve fantasized about for so long. A guy who’s finally willing to be as filthy and kinky as I am.

“Top drawer,” I answer, eyes locked on his.

He reaches across me without responding and pulls it open. “You don’t disappoint, do you, Carmine?” I can hear the low chuckle in his voice, and something else under it. Desire. Lust. “God, you are such a filthy little girl.”

I lean up beneath him, closer to the drawer, and peek at what he’s doing.

He still has one hand in the drawer, and brings the other to trail down my neck and rest on my upper arm as he gazes down at me below him. “I’m going to fulfill all your fantasies, Carmine,” he says, voice low and hot. “Even the ones you didn’t know you had.”

Another shiver races along my spine. “You think?” I ask, lifting my chin. “Because I have a lot of fantasies…”

He smirks. “Oh, I think you and I are going to have a lot of fun together.” He lets his hand slide around my waist, cups my hips to pull me up against him. I arch my hips toward him, and he slides one thigh between my legs. I can feel the brush of his cock against my inner thigh, just briefly, before he leans back to reach for the drawer again. “But you’re underestimating the power of my imagination, Carmine. And you, my dear, are very inspiring…”

He reaches down and grabs my shirt. He pulls it up over my head, and tosses it aside, then takes a moment to gaze down at my body. I shiver again, even more so when he reaches beneath me to cup my breasts in his strong hands. He massages them gently, his fingers flick across my nipples, and even through the fabric of the bra I can feel them growing hard. Then he slides his hands around my sides and glides them down my waist toward my hips instead.

“God, you are fucking hot as hell. Spread your legs,” he orders, and I can’t help but obey. I spread them beneath him, as far as I can with his legs straddling me, and I gasp as he trails his fingers up my inner thighs, almost to the edge of my panties. Then, before he touches me, he lets his hands drop, before he can feel how fucking wet my pussy already is.

“I can see why other men have trouble,” he says, grinning. “You’re a lot to handle, aren’t you?”

I arch my back up into him as he starts to caress my ass through my skirt. “Maybe,” I admit, my voice low and throaty.

“Good. Like I told you, I enjoy a challenge.” He tilts his head. “Now, turn over.”

I lock eyes with him. Slowly, making sure to undulate my hips enough to catch his eye, I arch my hips up and rotate beneath him, my ass in the air. I check over my shoulder what he’s doing, but he slaps my ass, quick and light with one open palm.

“No peeking,” he says. “Otherwise I’ll have to blindfold you.”

“Is that a promise?” I ask, peering over my shoulder at him again. Before I can even react, he’s wrapping my shirt around my head. I gasp as he ties it tight around my face, rendering me blind.

“You want me to fill you up, Carmine?”

I swallow hard. We don’t have to have sex, I remind myself. But he’s here, and he’s fucking hot as hell, and his dirty talk is turning me on more than I even knew was possible. And if I’m honest, I haven’t wanted anyone to fuck me this much in a long, long time. “Yes,” I murmur, my voice soft.

“Louder,” he orders.

“Yes,” I say, forcefully this time.

I can hear the smirk in his voice when he answers. “Tell me what you want me to do to you, Carmine.”

“Stuff me full, Caleb.”

“You want my cock in your pussy or your ass?”

My clit throbs just hearing those words. I take a deep breath, debating. But I already know. “My mouth first,” I say. “Then… Whatever you want to do to me.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he replies. “But first…” He runs a hand over my ass again, then slides his hand around the front to undo the zip of my skirt. He pulls it down slowly, inch by inch, to reveal my panties beneath. “You’re going to let me get you ready. I need to make sure you’re wet enough for me.”

I feel something cool and slim slide up my inner thigh. I gasp, as he traces it along the edges of my panties. Then he flicks a switch and it starts to vibrate.

My silver bullet vibrator.

I groan softly, rolling my hips back toward him. He runs the vibrator between my legs, tracing my lips through the thin fabric of my panties. Then he slides it back and presses it lightly against the tight pucker of my ass.

“You have quite the selection of toys here, Carmine. I wonder which one I should use… Which one would fill you up the best…” He slides the vibrator back toward my clit, and my whole body shivers with the vibrations, anticipating the moment when it will brush against my clit.

He never quite touches it though. He slides the vibrator around to press against my mound, and I moan loudly without thinking, my hips bucking forward toward the sensation. He doesn’t let it touch my clit, sliding it away.

“Not so fast. You don’t get off that easy, dirty girl.”

I bite my lip with frustration, but force myself to still my hips as he draws the vibrator back down along my slit to circle my ass again. At the same time I can hear him rifling through my toy drawer, debating.

“Here we go.” The audible excitement in his voice makes me shiver again. He shuts off the vibrator, and I gasp a little, missing the sensation. Especially when he shifts away from me. I turn my head, try to get an idea what he’s doing. But I can’t see anything through the fabric across my face.

“Have you ever been spit-roasted, Carmine?”

I lick my lips and smile. “Never.”

“I think you’ll enjoy it.”

How did he know? I’ve always wanted that. But without another guy, how…?

I hear him draw something else from the drawer, then some rustling. Then he hooks a finger under my panties and yanks them down to my knees. Before I can ask, he grabs the blindfold too, and tugs it off.

I glance over my shoulder to find my double-sided dildo—the one with a dick on each end, both of them 8” long and at least a few inches thick circumference—always enough to make my pussy ache and strain to accommodate it—suction-cupped to the wall. I’d forgotten about that function.

I eye it, then glance at him again.

He’s grinning at me. “Back up, Carmine.”

I slide backwards across the bed, toward the dildo.

“On all fours,” he adds. “Face me.”

I turn to position myself in front of the thick cock, sticking straight out at hip height. Caleb leans over to grab my hips with one hand and the dildo with another. He guides me backwards until it’s poised at my entrance. Then he traces a finger along my slit, feeling the slick juices gathered there.

“Enjoying yourself, dirty girl?”

“So fucking much,” I murmur.

“I love how wet you are for me already.” He circles my entrance with a finger, teasing. I can feel the dildo pressing against my slit too, pushed aside by his thick, strong fingers.

“I want to see your cock. I want to touch you.”

He presses his finger against my pussy harder, the tip just edging into me. “Patience, dirty girl. You’ll get to taste me soon enough.” He pushes again, just hard enough to slide the tip of his finger into me. He goes slowly, so slow it’s maddening, driving himself into me an inch at a time. “First, I want a taste of you.”

I groan and buck against his hand as he pushes his finger as far inside my pussy as possible. I can feel him curling his finger against my inner wall, brushing down the front. When he adds a second finger, I can’t help moaning. When he adds the third, I’m already twisting my hips along his fingers, trying to thrust. But he holds me in place with his other hand, makes me sit still while he thrusts all three fingers inside me.

I can see the thick bulge in his pants, inches from my face now. Teasing. He’s visible even through his jeans, and I can only guess how large he’ll be exposed. My mouth goes wet just thinking about it.

He starts to slide his fingers in and out, fucking me slowly, all three digits thick enough to stretch my tight pussy, make me feel full.

Just when I’m starting to feel the tight, sweet ache in my clit, especially when he curls his fingers to graze my G-spot on their way along my inner walls, he pulls his hand out. I cry out faintly in protest.

Caleb just smirks at me as he lifts his fingertips to his mouth and, one at a time, slowly licks them clean. I catch my breath, watching him stare at me, ogling my naked body as he licks my pussy juices from his fingers.

“So fucking sweet,” he murmurs. Then he reaches for his shirt and pulls it off in one swift motion. I catch a glimpse of his six-pack, his chiseled pecs, and the tight V pointing down to his crotch. Then I’m distracted all over again, because he starts to unbutton his jeans.

Then he stops.

I grit my teeth, frustrated.

He’s still smirking at me.

“I want you to push that dildo inside you, Carmine.”

I reach between my legs to feel for it. Position the head against my pussy entrance again, and slowly slide myself backwards. The moment the head pops between my pussy lips, I have to moan. It’s so thick, it stretches me even more than his fingers did.

“Farther,” he urges.

I lean back. As I do, he inches the zipper down his fly. For every inch I push the dildo inside me, he shoves his jeans down his hips, until they hang at his knees, and only his boxers separate me from his cock. I can see him standing upright at attention now, hard as hell, the shape of the head visible through the thin fabric of his boxers.

I want him. But I know he won’t give himself to me easily. So I keep easing back until the dildo is fully inside my tight, wet pussy. Then I lift my head and meet his gaze.

“Fuck the dildo, dirty girl,” he orders.

I start to rock, forward and back, slowly.

As I do, he yanks his boxers down after his jeans.

The moment his cock springs free, my mouth begins to water. Fucking. Hell.

He’s huge.

I eye the veins along his shaft, the thick head bright red with lust. He has to be at least 9” long, and at least 3” thick. Bigger than the dildo that I’m currently impaled on, and that’s so thick my pussy is already aching from it. I reach for him without thinking, unable to resist.

He just grins down at me, eyes hooded and dark with lust, and lets me take his cock in my hands.

“Keep fucking, Carmine,” he reminds me, and I continue to rock back and forth along the dildo, moving a little faster now as my body heats with desire. I trace my hands along his length, then peer up at him through my lashes. His head tilts back a little, and I glory in the sight of his perfect body above me, the way his eyes catch mine and burn red-hot with lust.

“Can I taste you?” I ask.

“Lick my cock,” he says. “But don’t put me in your mouth. Not yet. You need to earn this spit-roast, dirty girl.”

I don’t need telling twice. I lean down to trail my tongue along the side of his cock, from the base all the way to the tip. Fuck. He even tastes good—the taste is salty and heady at once, the same heavy masculine scent that permeates his body. He smells like sex and fire all at once, and I cannot get enough of it.

I lick him from base to shaft, over and over, tracing the individual ridges of his veins, circling my tongue around his thick, bulbous tip. I reach up to cup his balls at the same time, toying with them as I continue to lick back and forth along him. I run my tongue over the top of his cock, then along the sides, and peer up at him at the same time. I love the way his lips part and his eyes go hungry as he watches me licking his cock, all the while thrusting back against the dildo, feeling it spear deep inside my pussy.

“Faster,” he orders, and I start to buck my hips faster, rocking back and forth between him and the dildo. If I close my eyes I can imagine I’m pinned between Caleb and another man, fucking me hard from behind while I lick Caleb’s cock, taste the salty bead of pre-cum that gathers on the top of his dick.

“Now, take my cock in your mouth,” he orders.

I can barely suppress the shiver of pure lust that runs through my body as I part my lips and take the head of his cock into my mouth. I can still feel the dildo deep inside my pussy, and it’s driving me wild to have him between my lips. He digs his hands into my hair, gripping tight enough to make my eyes water as he slowly inches himself farther into my mouth.

“Fuck yes, just like that, dirty girl,” he hisses between clenched teeth.

Inch by inch, I take him in, letting my tongue rove across his thick, veined shaft.

“You feel that?” he asks, his voice a low, throaty groan. “You feel how full you are Carmine? With my big cock in your sexy little mouth?”

I moan in response and I’m rewarded by his hands fisting in my hair, a faint gasp escaping him. I moan again, throatier this time, and that seems to set him over the edge. He thrusts deep into my mouth, all at once, his cock hitting the back of my throat. I tense, almost gagging, but he pulls my hair to get my attention. I look up at him and catch him watching me, eyes dark with lust.

“Relax, Carmine. Let me fill you completely.”

I let him take over, force my body to go slack. His cock slides into my throat, and I groan with desperation at the sensation of being so fucking full, my pussy tight around the dildo and my throat tight around his head.

Just when it becomes almost too much, when I struggle to breathe, Caleb pulls back, just far enough to let me catch my breath, the tip of his cock still between my lips. Then he thrusts into my mouth again, and I relax into him, finding our rhythm. He pumps his cock against my face mercilessly, the motion rocking me back against the dildo with every thrust until it feels like he’s fucking me from both ends at once. The whole time he keeps a tight hold on my hair, and every time I glance up at him, he’s watching me with indescribable, desperate lust, like he cannot drink in enough of what he’s seeing.

“Fuck yes you dirty little girl, take me all the way inside you. Take every inch of my thick cock. You feel that?”

I moan.

“You like that dirty girl? You like me stuffing both your holes at once?”

I reach up to cup his ass and pull him against my face in response, ramming his cock against the back of my throat again. He groans, a low sound, so guttural it almost sounds like a growl.

We’re close. I can feel it. My whole body is tense with the need to orgasm, and I can sense Caleb’s abs flexing in response for his own. I want it, so fucking badly. I want to taste his cum. I want him to come in my throat while he’s stuffing me full like this. I clench my fists tight around the muscles of his rock hard ass.

But just when we’re almost there, he pulls back. I gasp in protest as I lose my grip on him, and his cock drops out of my mouth. He steps back, away from me, leaving me on all fours, hips still against the wall, the dildo still deep in my pussy.

I was so fucking close. Dammit.

Caleb smirks at me, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. He does, I’m sure. “Did you think I’d let you finish that easily, Carmine?” He shakes his head, tsking a little, as if he’s disappointed.

Then he crooks a finger to me. “Come here.”

I hesitate. Slowly, I crawl away from the wall. The dildo pops out of my pussy with a slick wet sound, and his smirk widens.

“Enjoying yourself, were you?”

I swallow hard and manage to nod.

“Don’t worry. We’re only just getting started.” He tilts his head and eyes me, as though planning his next move. It makes my belly go tight, wondering what he could be planning. What he’ll do to me next. There are plenty of options given my collection of goodies. But somehow, I have a feeling whatever he does, I’ll be surprised.

“Turn around,” he says. It sounds even more commanding and sexy in his accent. The accent I can’t get enough of. If he never stopped talking once, I’d be happy.

Heart in my throat, my pussy still soaking wet and my clit oh so fucking heavy with lust, I slowly turn around on the bed, until my ass points in his direction. I lean forward, expecting him to fuck me from behind. “Did you bring condoms?” I remember to ask.

He laughs. “Of course. But we’re not quite there yet, Carmine…”

Then I feel his warm, thick hands parting the cheeks of my ass. I dare a peek over my shoulder, quivering with anticipation. Is he going to stick his finger up my ass?

That’s when I spy the anal plug in his hand, and my eyes go wide.

He picked the thick one, the one I’ve only just started to practice with. The end is thicker than his fingers, and he has thick fingers to start.

As if reading my mind, Caleb reaches past me for the dresser and grabs a bottle of my lube, the warming kind. He pops the lid and slathers it across the head of the plug.

“You told me you wanted to be stuffed, didn’t you dirty girl? Are you having second thoughts?”

Despite the tension in my throat and the way it makes me knees quiver—hell, my elbows too, in this position—I shake my head. “No way in hell. I want you to stuff me so full I’m screaming, Caleb.”

His grin widens. “There’s that filthy mouth.” He places the head of the anal plug at the tight little pucker of my ass. “You’re going to have to relax again. Unless you want this to hurt…”

I take a deep breath and spread my legs a little wider, willing myself to let go. To surrender to him. Caleb is in charge now. He’s in control, and my body is his plaything. I’ll do whatever he wants me to do.

No guy has ever made me feel like this before.

He pushes the tip of the plug into my ass and I gasp, eyes going wide. Unlike the beads, the plug is a constant, slow, stretching sensation, increasing with every centimeter further that Caleb presses it into my ass. He doesn’t slow down, but doesn’t go too fast either. He gives me time to breathe in deep, adjust to the sensation as, inch by inch, he stretches my ass wider.

Then, without warning, his other hand slips between my legs to cup my pussy. He spreads my lips and circles my entrance, swirling his finger around in my juices, coating himself nice and well. I moan with desire, unable to help myself, as he keeps pressing against the plug, driving it farther into my ass.

“God you are so fucking filthy, aren’t you?” There’s a soft approving sound in his voice, along with that throaty white-hot desire.

“No one’s ever taken me like this before,” I manage to gasp between rotations of his finger.

He laughs softly. “You haven’t seen anything yet, dirty girl.” He presses his index finger into my pussy, and I cry out loud at the feeling of both my holes being filled at once.

It doesn’t last long. He draws his index finger straight back out again, somewhat to my disappointment. But then he circles it across my clit, making my knees lock and my body shiver.

My clit is already sensitive as hell from the spit-roasting earlier, and from how fucking hot Caleb makes me. It only takes a few slow, masterful rotations of his finger, pressing just the right amount, to bring me quivering to the brink of an orgasm.

“Fuck,” I hiss between my clenched teeth. “I’m going to come.”

“Come as I push this plug all the way inside your ass, Carmine. Come for me.” He keeps pressing, keeps swirling his index finger, and at the same time, he gives one last hard push against my ass. The plug glides the rest of the way into me with a pop, stretching me to my limit.

My mouth falls open, a guttural cry escaping as I hit my orgasm. It washes over me in a wave, the searing pleasure mingled with the pain in my ass of the stretch, the plug hitting home.

I’m still shaking from the force of that orgasm when I hear the sound of a condom wrapper. In no time at all, I feel the bed shift under me as Caleb kneels between my legs.

Then I feel the press of his cock at my entrance, his fingers spreading my pussy lips wide to give him access.

I gasp and tense, realizing he’s going to fuck me with the plug in my ass. No man has ever done that before. Not even when I asked—practically begged— my exes. They worried it would be too painful, too weird, too kinky. They didn’t understand.

Caleb does. Caleb is as filthy as I am.

“I’m going to fuck you, Carmine,” he murmurs, that accent of his making the words even sexier than they already are. “I’m going to fuck you with your ass already stuffed. I’m going to stretch your tight little pussy so fucking wide.”

I moan with desire. “Fuck me, Caleb. Fuck me so fucking hard. Fuck me until I can’t walk straight.”

He laughs, a low, throaty sound. “Oh, don’t you worry about that, Carmine.” He reaches up to caress my cheek with one hand. His finger leaves a sticky trail across my cheek, still wet from my pussy. “You’re going to have trouble sitting down tomorrow, let alone walking.”

With that, he thrusts into me, deep, all in one shove. My pussy is so wet he glides all the way into me, and I scream out in sheer pleasure as his cock stretches my tight pussy. I can feel the plug deep in my ass still, and the thick girth of his cock straining at my pussy walls.

As I cry out, he slides his finger into my mouth. “Suck it,” he commands, and I clamp my mouth around his finger instinctively, tasting myself, my juices mingled with the sharp salt flavor of his skin.

He pulls back to thrust inside me again, keeping his finger in my mouth at the same time, his other hand clamped tight around my hip to hold me in place. I lick and suck at his finger, thirsty as fuck, while he builds up his pace, starts to fuck me in earnest.

“Fuck, Carmine,” he growls. “You fucking like that? You like my cock inside you?”

I moan into his hand, and he adds another finger to my mouth, then a third. As I lick and suck his fingers and thrust back against his cock, making the anal plug bounce inside me, I feel like I’m being fucked by three guys at once, every end satisfied, as full as I can be.

He shifts his hips, angles his cock so the head drags along my inner front wall, and I cry out again, the sound muffled by his fingers deep in my mouth, as he thrusts against my G-spot. A few more thrusts and I’m already at the brink again, my clit still sensitive from my earlier orgasm, my pussy straining to accommodate his girth.

He can tell. “That’s it, Carmine,” he murmurs. “Come for me again. Come for me, you filthy girl.”

I scream with the force of the orgasm that hits me. He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t even pause in his thrusts. His cock keeps driving into me, sending me over the edge, and making the orgasm last, my knees shaking, my belly tight, hands quivering.

Then he lets his fingers drop from my mouth, and I suck in a deep gulp of air, trying to catch my breath.

But he’s grabbing my hips with both hands now, driving full-force into me, and I realize he’s about to come too.

“Fuck yes, Caleb,” I cry over my shoulder. “Fill me up. Fill me up with your fucking cum, come inside me.”

He growls and fucks me harder, so hard I can hear his balls slapping my pussy lips. I’m pretty sure my ass is going to bruise where his hips crash into mine, but I just push back against him, thrust as hard as I can against him. With a roar, he comes hard, still fucking me. I squeeze my pussy tight around him, milk every last drop as he thrusts away.

Finally, he slows, then stops altogether, his dick still deep in me. I squeeze my pussy again, and he gasps, his cock twitching inside me. He lets go of my hips, slowly draws his cock out of me. There’s a rush of my own juices, spilling down my inner thigh as he slides out of me.

I collapse forward onto the bed. I listen to the rubber snap of him rolling off the condom and tying it. Then he falls beside me a moment later, one hand resting on the plug in my ass.

“Oh, I can…” I reach for it, but he catches my wrist and folds my hands in front of me.

“Relax,” he commands yet again. And with a soft popping sound, he draws it straight out of my ass. Before I can make a move or offer to do anything, he’s already up off the bed, heading to the bathroom to take care of that and the condom. I’m not used to that. Not used to sharing my toys—or having help after everything is said and done. It’s nice to have someone else here. Someone else to come up with the ideas, someone else to take care of me at the end.

Not to mention someone else whose backside I can ogle while he does it. I smirk as I drink in Caleb’s sexy ass, and the sharp muscles of his back, almost as sexy as that V-cut on his front.

Then I roll onto my back and stretch. Before I even finish, he’s already back, lying beside me to wrap his arms around my waist.

“Shit,” I murmur, curling into his side. “That was…”

“Fucking hot as hell,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss my temple.

“Yeah,” I manage. I’m not sure how else to sum it up. I’d fantasized about this for so long—finding someone as kinky as me, someone who was into my same fantasies. Someone who’d be willing to get down and dirty with me. Not to mention have some fun with my toy collection.

But I never imagined it would feel like this. So comfortable, so easy. My other boyfriends or hookups would all act horrified when I told them about my kinks. If they let me talk them into trying anything, I still felt like a freak, a dirty weirdo who was corrupting them, or totally insane for wanting any of this.

Caleb, on the other hand, is just as filthy as I am. Maybe more so. And he doesn’t care. He doesn’t judge me for who I am. On the contrary, he seems to fucking love it.

“Is it always like that?” I ask softly, curious. Is this how clients and escorts always feel?

If so, I can’t say I blame people for hiring escorts. This is so… comfortable. So relaxed. He liked everything we did. Was into everything I was. Didn’t judge me, in a way no one ever has. He just tried it all, no questions asked. Hell, he was enthusiastic about it.

“Fuck no,” he murmurs, his voice low and sleepy.

I swallow hard. What does that mean? Is it usually better? Did he enjoy himself as much as I did? It certainly sounded like it. But maybe I was wrong.

Before I can work out a way to ask what he means, though—to ask how this time was different—the tone of his breathing shifts. It goes deep, even, and his chest rises and falls against my ear in a soothing, relaxing rhythm. It lulls my eyelids into going heavy, my own breathing into slowing.

Without even realizing it, I nestle closer to Caleb, his warm arms still wrapped around me. I fall asleep with the sound of his breathing in my ear, his scent wrapped around me, and the faint, pleasant tingling sensation in my body of being totally, completely satisfied.