3. Casey
Casey
" H ey, you." Yara leaned over and kissed me. One of her curls escaped her loose bun, and I reached up and tucked it back.
"Ready for bed?" I asked as she turned towards the mirror over the dresser and pulled her hair out of the bun, then quickly braided it. Her nimble fingers worked deftly, making me think about other things they could work.
"For bed, perhaps. Sleep? Not quite yet." Her eyes twinkled as she peeled off her clothes, piece by piece, letting them fall carelessly to the floor. Her bohemian dress slipped off her shoulders, revealing the smooth expanse of her luscious brown skin. My gaze followed her every movement, entranced by the wide curve of her hips, the smooth roundness of her breasts.
"Missed you today," she said as she climbed into bed beside me, leaning in for another kiss. I tugged her close, then looked suspiciously around the room. "Where's Bruce?"
"Dunno. Why?"
She snorted. "That cat is a menace. He had better not start harassing Kai."
"Harassing is a strong word. I prefer to think of it as keeping me company."
"Uh huh," she said, nuzzling my lips as she spoke. "I'll remind you of that next time he goes on a rampage."
"I'm sure he's napping peacefully," I lied. It really was too quiet, but there was no way I was admitting that my cat was a menace now.
Her lips found mine, and we kissed. It was slow at first, then deeper, more intense. Her hands roamed over my chest, and a wild heat rose between us, chasing away the guilty thoughts I'd been having at work lately.
Because above all, I loved my wife. I'd first met her at a gallery opening — one I'd been dragged to by an architect I worked with. I'd never been more out of place at an event. I was a boring, slightly dorky engineer in a room full of vibrant, creative people.
And when I'd spotted her across the room; a stunning woman with a brash, infectious laugh. I'd been entranced. She stood out — and not because she was the only Black woman in a small, rather homogenous crowd of white people. She'd been magnetic, standing confidently in front of a display of the most beautiful blown glass I'd ever seen. Not that I'd known much about glass blowing at the time.
And somehow, she'd picked me.
I was so lucky to have her, and it was stupid to let intrusive thoughts take over, take me away from her. And soon, my desire for her made me forget everything else. I needed this—needed her. Her body pressed closer, her curves fitting perfectly against me, and I savored her warmth, her softness.
I lifted my head and stared down at her. "I love the way you kiss."
"Show me how much."
With renewed determination, I deepened the kiss, pouring all my longing into each movement. Our breaths mingled, creating a symphony of need and passion. My hands explored her body, reacquainting themselves with every dip and curve. The other fantasy tried to intrude once more, but I banished it, refusing to let anything ruin this moment.
"Casey," Yara breathed, her voice a mixture of urgency and affection. "I love you."
"Baby. You're my everything," I responded, my voice thick with emotion.
Our kisses became more frantic, a testament to the fire that burned between us. Soon, Yara's hands were everywhere, her touch igniting sparks along my skin. Her lips left a trail of fire as she kissed her way down my chest, over the hard planes of my abdomen. I gasped when she reached for the waistband of my boxer briefs.
I breathed her name, a plea on my lips.
"Shhh." Her breath was hot against my navel as she made her way lower, sending shivers coursing through me.
Her fingers hooked into the elastic band and tugged, slowly, torturously, until my cock sprang free, eager and aching for her attention. She looked up at me, her eyes dark with desire, before lowering her head and taking me into her mouth. It was warm and wet and exactly where I belonged.
"Fuck," I groaned, my hips arching off the bed at the first contact. Yara's tongue swirled around the tip, teasing, tasting, driving me to the edge of madness. I buried my hands in her curls, dislodging her braid as I tried to anchor myself to this earth-shattering pleasure.
With every bob of her head, the tension coiled tighter in my belly. I never wanted to leave this moment. And right when I thought it couldn't get any better, her fingers began to wander lower, tracing a path down past my balls.
"Yara..." My voice cracked, half-wondering, half-warning.
She lifted her head and met my eyes. "I'd like to play with you tonight." Her meaning was clear. We were both switches, and tonight, she wanted to dominate me. I met her eyes and nodded.
Her fingers circled the sensitive pucker of my asshole, gentle at first, testing my boundaries. I shuddered involuntarily, my body caught between fear and curiosity. It felt good. Should it feel good?
"Do you want this?" she asked, her fingers still hovering, giving me control in this moment of vulnerability. She watched me as she kissed the head of my cock again, her swirling tongue muddying my thoughts.
Did I? The question danced on the edge of my consciousness, mingling with the relentless waves of desire she was already creating.
"Yes," I breathed out, the word escaping me before I could second-guess it.
Her finger pressed lightly enough to tease. My body opened up to her. It was a strange sensation, but not unpleasant.
She lifted her head, those big, expressive brown eyes locking onto mine. "I want to experiment with making sex toys in my studio and selling them."
"Really?" What did that have to do with her finger in my goddamn asshole? She drizzled some lube over her fingers.
"Yeah," she said, a spark of excitement dancing in her gaze. "I tried a few this week. There were a few snafus, but the latest ones, well, they came out pretty great. I'd love to test them on you."
"On me?" I squeaked, my mind spinning. But before I could delve deeper into that rabbit hole, her finger slipped inside me, and all rational thought flew out the window.
"Yara." My voice broke as I bucked against her touch. Her finger moved inside me with deliberate slowness, exploring, teasing, coaxing sensations from me that I didn't even know existed. My breath came in short, ragged bursts as she leaned down, her lips brushing the head of my cock.
"Relax, Casey. Let me take care of you. You don't need to be in control all the time. Remember how we talked about that? How I let you tie me up last week?"
I closed my eyes and took a slow breath. "Your turn?"
She chuckled softly. "I believe it is. Trust me?"
I let out a ragged sound, acknowledging the keyword, the one we used when asking the other partner to give up control. Sometimes she'd be on her knees for me, asking to be tied down and fucked, but today, she was the one taking control. A simple safeword would stop her if I grew uncomfortable, but I was more into this than I wanted to admit.
Her mouth enveloped me and all coherent thought dissolved into a haze of relentless need. The warmth, the wetness, the way her tongue swirled around the sensitive tip—it was a symphony of sensations designed to drive me out of my mind.
"You want to know what it's like to be fucked?" she said, slipping another slick finger inside me, stretching me open.
I lost myself in the rhythm of her movements, each suck and lick dragging me deeper into a state of pure need. It was as if she knew exactly how to touch me, how to push every button until I was teetering on the edge of sanity. Her fingers continued their slow, torturous exploration inside me, adding an unexpected layer of pleasure that made me gasp and moan.
"Yara, please," I begged, though I wasn't sure what I was asking for. More? Less? Everything? She had me so wound up that I'd agree to anything to keep feeling this way.
She lifted her head, her lips glistening, and gave me that mischievous smile that always made my heart skip a beat. "It's time," she said, reaching over to the bedside table.
From a small velvet pouch, she took out something that glittered in the dim light of our bedroom. It was a stunning piece of craftsmanship—clear, tempered glass with a swirling bead of purple running through it. Large and imposing, it looked both beautiful and intimidating.
"Made this yesterday," Yara said, her voice brimming with pride and excitement. "Tempered glass. Strong enough for anything we might want to try."
My throat went dry as I swallowed hard. "I didn't know you meant today," I managed to say.
"Casey, you know me," Yara laughed, her voice bubbling with excitement and a hint of mischief. "When I get in the creative zone, it's tough not to test things. And I had everything I needed anyway to make something strong enough."
I watched as she turned to the nightstand, grabbing the bottle of lube. I licked my lips, an odd mix of anticipation and nervousness making my skin tingle. She squeezed some onto her fingers and pumped a generous amount onto the glass toy, the clear liquid glistening under the soft light of our bedside lamp.
"Ready?" she asked, her eyes locking onto mine, searching for my reaction. "Do you want me to take care of you?"
"I do," I croaked. My body relaxed more as I acknowledged that I was giving up control.
"Good boy." She leaned down to place a soft kiss on my lips before trailing lower. Her fingers were slick with lube, teasing at my hole again as she kissed her way across my stomach, nipped at my hip, and spread my legs wide.
She urged me to relax, her lips brushing against my inner thigh. The tip of the toy pressed against me, impossibly firm. The initial stretch was intense, a strange, heavy stretching sensation that made me groan.
"Yara..." I grabbed my legs behind the knee and spread wider, granting her access I spread my legs wide. "Oh fuck."
Slowly, she began to press the toy deeper, her movements careful and deliberate. The sensation was unlike anything I'd ever experienced — a mixture of discomfort and immense pleasure that had my mind spinning. Inch by inch, the glass dildo filled me, and the stretch was painful at first, then something else entirely. I whimpered softly, and she paused, letting me adjust.
"You're doing so well." Yara's voice was soothing as she continued to guide the toy inside me. My hips bucked slightly as I adjusted to the fullness. The strange, heavy stretch was overwhelming, but in the best way possible.
My senses heightened as I focused on what she was doing, and my body was alight with sensual heat. She leaned down to kiss me again, her lips soft and reassuring against mine.
"Let go," she urged, her fingers curling around the base of the toy, giving it a gentle twist that made me see stars. "Lose yourself in the moment. Let yourself enjoy everything."
Yara's lips wrapped around me again, her tongue swirling expertly over the tip of my cock. The sensation of being filled intensified.
The dual sensations of the toy and her hand were almost overwhelming. She hummed in response, the vibration making my toes curl. Her hand moved rhythmically, twisting and pushing the toy as her mouth worked its magic on me.
She lifted her head for a moment. "My baby likes to be fucked, doesn't he?" Our gazes locked, and I saw the fire in her eyes, a mix of love and desire that made my heart race. "It's good to let go of control sometimes."
"It's incredible." My voice was rough with need.
"Let's make it even better," she said, guiding me to reposition. I found myself on my hands and knees, both vulnerable and exhilarated. She guided the toy deeper, hitting just the right spot, the one that shot a jolt of electricity up my dick and made my vision blur.
"Right there," I gasped, hips moving instinctively to meet her thrusts. The weight of the glass dildo pressed down on my prostate, sending waves of ecstasy through me. Yara leaned over me, her breasts brushing against my back as she pumped the toy in and out, her other hand wrapping around my cock.
"Mm, maybe we need a dildo, so I can fuck you really good."
I could only nod, lost in the sensations she was drawing from me. Each stroke, each twist of the toy brought me closer to the edge, my body trembling with the intensity of it all. She seemed to understand what I needed, her pace steady and unrelenting. Her grip on my cock tightened, matching the rhythm of the toy inside me.
She urged me to let go again, her voice a soothing anchor in the storm of erotic indulgence. And I did. My body surrendered completely, riding the waves of ecstasy she coaxed from me. It was pure, unadulterated bliss, a connection that transcended the physical and touched something deeper within us both.
I shouted, my voice hoarse with the intensity of it all. The sensation was overwhelming, a tidal wave crashing over me, pushing me to the brink and beyond. Her hands were everywhere—stroking, pumping, teasing—each touch sending electric jolts through my body. The toy inside me was snug against my prostate, amplifying every sensation until I thought I might come undone.
"That's it, Casey," she said, her breath hot and ragged against my ear. "Let it all go."
I couldn't hold back even if I wanted to. My hips bucked wildly, thrusting into her hand as she pumped the toy deeper, her rhythm unrelenting. The pressure built, an exquisite ache that coiled tighter and tighter in my core. And then, like a dam bursting, I exploded.
I screamed her name as the orgasm tore through me, my body convulsing with the force of it. Wave after wave of ecstasy wracked my frame, each pulse leaving me more breathless than the last. I clung to her, desperate for something to anchor me in the storm of sensation. She held me firmly, her arms around me, grounding me as I rode out the wild orgasm.
"Good boy." She stroked my back as slowly, the storm began to subside, leaving me trembling and spent in her embrace. Every muscle in my body was like jelly, but there was a deep sense of satisfaction that settled within me, a contentment I'd never quite known before.
"Don't take it out," I managed to say, my voice barely more than a whisper. "Leave the plug inside me... please." There was a vulnerability in my request, an admission of how much I enjoyed the heavy stretch, the lingering fullness.
Yara grinned, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple. I coaxed her over onto her back, spread her legs, and thanked her with my mouth and hands, not stopping until she'd had multiple orgasms. And in this position, it felt the tiniest bit like I was being fucked from behind as I licked her pussy.
Which was a ridiculous thought. Wasn't it?