WIP Wednesday - Another little slice of Never on a Sunday

It gets closer! The anthology will release sometime this weekend. We have a cover and a blurb and everything! 

My story for this is called Never on a Sunday. Last week, you read the opening thousand words or so of this story.  This week, I'm not going to pick up where I left off. I'm going to jump around to another scene. 

***

Mr. Buttman also lives in Brooklyn, thank heavens. I head to his apartment right after work, and I’m there by six-thirty. I’m hoping this is a quickie. I need to catch up on my sleep.

Mr. Buttman is Trent. He’s a kitchen cabinet maker, and he makes an exceedingly good living making custom cabinets for people like the Playboy and the Dominant. You know, rich people with more money than sense. His own kitchen is something of a wet dream. A place for everything, and everything in its place.

Like all the others, my nickname has to do with the Trent’s kink of choice. Mr. Buttman is my anal sex guy. He has an ass fetish like you wouldn’t believe. Today, he greets me with a wide smile. “I have something to show you.”

“Your cock?” I ask hopefully. Yes, I’m incorrigible. I’ve had my pussy licked Monday, and been thoroughly fucked Tuesday and Wednesday. You would think I’d be satiated. Not even close. Besides, my ass has been neglected in comparison.

Mr. Buttman is in his early thirties. He’s got the tight body of someone whose muscles are built by hard work, not hours at the gym. His hands are calloused, and I shiver as I think of them running up and down my body, the rough texture prickling at my skin with each stroke. His hair is short and dark, and I’ve never seen him in something other than a pair of jeans. He’s wearing jeans now, and a faded navy-blue t-shirt. His hair is damp, as if he just got out of the shower.

“Not my cock, you little slut,” he says indulgently. My pussy throbs at the name-calling. Mr. Buttman’s been part of the rotation for the last two years. I know him well, and once the sex is over, he treats me like a princess. If he genuinely thought of me as a slut, I’d be out of his apartment in a heartbeat. He’s having casual sex with me as much as I’m having casual sex with him, and I refuse to allow a double-standard about the way we see ourselves. I am not a slut, because I’m a woman who craves sex. If he gets to have no-strings-attached sex without society judging him, I demand the same right.

Okay. Rant over.

I’m curious about what Mr. Buttman wants to show me, and I look around his living room for a clue. There’s an opened package on his coffee table, and I raise an eyebrow. He nods. “Yup, that’s it. Open it.”

It’s already been opened, so I don’t need to rip off packing tape. I notice the return address is a location in Italy, and my fingers unfold the top of the box to reveal the contents underneath.

Of course, it’s a butt plug. But not just any old butt plug. This is the Ferrari of butt plugs. It looks like three butt plugs stacked right on top of each other. The one on top is the smallest, then it widens to a larger plug, and the final one, closest to the base, is wider than a fist. “Is it marble?” I ask, my voice reverent as I pick up the stone piece.

“Black Italian marble,” Mr. Buttman confirms. “A special order.” He grins. “Comes from the same quarry as the countertops, but the butt plug is more interesting.”

It is heavy and cool to the touch. I need both hands to pick it up. “It’s large.”

“You can manage,” he says. “It’ll be training for you. It’s good to have goals, don’t you think?”

“I have goals,” I protest. “I’m trying to get past my gag reflex.”

He chuckles. “Okay, I promise you, I’ll help you work on that.” I roll my eyes. Of course, Mr. Buttman, I’ll give you a blowjob and thank you for the privilege.

“This is wider than a fist.” My voice is nervous, but I’m curious.

“Just the last one,” he points out. “Come on, Stephanie. Go get ready.”

***

I will undoubtedly blog with purchase links once we go live, so keep an eye out! My co-conspirators on this project are some of the hottest writers of erotica I've ever read, and I'm so thrilled to be working with them on this.