Ngaire had just said, “Come in,” to Freddie, or more specifically to his thumb, well coated in lubricant and tapping lightly at her asshole. 

He said, “Thank you,” gravely, and pushed forward. Because she was already slippery from his first insertion, and his thumb hadn’t hurt her even a little bit, she could keep herself relaxed. He slipped inside, the length of his thumb, so that the edge of his palm pressed against soft skin between her buttocks and her thighs. 

She held still, her ass in the air, slightly penetrated. He held still as well. He said, “Are you ok? How does it feel?”

She considered her sensations. “It doesn’t hurt at all. That kind of surprised me. It feels kind of strange, though. I was taught this is really unnatural, what we’re doing. I guess I’m getting used to it. Could you … move your thumb back and forth, like you’re fucking me? Please?”

“As you wish.” He was quoting some film, she knew, though she couldn’t remember which. But his thumb seemed to press deeper – she hadn’t thought it was possible – then withdrew a little, and moved back. The movements were tiny at first, maybe a centimetre forwards and back, but slowly each withdrawal was a little further.

She realised she missed that thumb when it was absent, and was relieved when, slowly, easily, it was back. She sighed, pleasured.

Then she felt herself blushing. That sigh had told him she was enjoying this. He must know she’s a pervert. She thought, Shut up, Mum. Fuck off, Steve. Anyway, Freddie obviously liked perverted girls. And he wasn’t exactly unkinky himself.

The thumb stopped moving then. “Now you,” Freddie said. “When it’s my cock, I’ll expect you to move. So. Now it’s your turn: fuck my thumb.”

She knew that if he were with Daphne, or the mysterious, missing, Shar, he’d have reinforced that order with a hard slap across her ass. Well, she thought, he’ll just have to make do with obedience. She raised her ass a little higher, and carefully moved forward, tightening her muscle on the thumb.

Then she rocked back, still slowly, letting her muscle relax as he entered deeper. She sighed again, but did not blush.

Then she moved again, taking him and almost-releasing him, and taking him again, fucking him. She knew, almost if she had a cock herself, how good that would feel for him. And then that the pleasure she felt wasn’t just in her imagination. That thumb, and her movements on it, felt good.

She said, “So, are you going to fuck my ass, or what?” 

She looked back over her shoulder, to catch delight – there was no other word – in his eyes. But he tried to look serious. “You can never have too much lube. So you have to lube my cock, too.”

He hadn’t moved. Ngaire waited. She said, “Well?”

“No, I mean you have to lube my cock.” 

Ngaire had lifted her ass, to give Freddie access. She supposed that felt like submission. Daphne had talked to her a lot, about submission. Ngaire thought it had sounded like surrendering in order to work your way round and become assertive again. It seemed like a long way to go to back to where you were before. 

But she’d obeyed when Freddie had said to get her arse up and spread her legs. Now she could feel his gaze. The male gaze. It liked the look of her arse. She wiggled a little, to show him she knew he was staring. He muttered something that probably wasn’t a word, then, “Holy fuck, that’s hot. But now you keep still, Ngaire.”

She his hands on her buttocks, spreading them gently, and then his thumb, slightly gooey, pressing lightly against her asshole. She couldn’t help it; she tensed. Freddie put his hand on her left cheek. He said, “Relax, Ngaire. It’s easier if you’re relaxed.”

“That’s easy for you to say! You’re not about to get a whacking great cock up your arse.”

“I’ve had enough girls up the ass, though, to have a fair idea of what helps and what doesn’t.”  

“Hah! Lasshole fucker.” 

“Did you just say, ‘lasshole’?” 

“Yeah. You don’t fuck guy’s arses, do you?” 

“No. But ‘lasshole’. I like that. I’m going to use it.” 

“You’re going to use mine. If you can even get your thumb in.”

The hand on her left cheek squeezed her. It felt good, and she knew it was a warning. “If you don’t relax, in five seconds, I’m going to smack you. Hard.”

Ngaire said, “But you said-”

“Yes, unless you specifically ask me not to smack you. If you do ask me not to smack you then I won’t. But I’m relying on your sense of justice.”

“Hah!” said Ngaire. Then “Oh!” He’d used the distraction to press his thumb inside her. He paused, allowing her to consider the sensation. It wasn’t something she’d ever let another man do; not so much as a finger had been in her ass before. The idea had always disgusted Steve, her husband, now living in New York State, and she supposed she’d picked up some of his aversion.

But Freddie’s frank enthusiasm for her ass was charming. So was his tricksiness. He’d eased his thumb all the way in, in tiny, slow increments. She had to admit it didn’t hurt. Or feel wrong. Though his thumb was nowhere near as thick as his cock. She could feel herself trembling, very slightly, so she raised her ass a little higher. Just for him. The trembling stopped.

She felt him lean down, then his lips on her ass. He murmured, “Good girl.” Then he kissed her ass – the thought made her smile – then moved his face forward and sideways so that he could lick her cunt. His tongue pressed against her lips and they opened for him. She was so wet.

She heard him make an appreciative noise, low in his throat, and his tongue worked her, until she was slowly moving her hips, pressed against this face. 

Then his face was gone. There was a short pause, no doubt involving the lube. Then his thumb was back, pressing lightly against her little entrance. He tapped her lightly, as if politely knocking on a door.

Ngaire made herself relax. She whispered, “Come in.”