Free Different in the Dark (Couple X) by Becky Young Page A

encourages me to kick them loose. He drags his hands back up to my ass, his thumbs brushing my pussy between my legs before tracing up my crack to rest just above the pink pucker of my anus. I twitch, wondering if one of his thumbs will return there now or if I’ll have to wait.
    “You want something in your ass, beautiful?”
    I nod, my face buried in my pillow. He circles my anus twice, then pauses. I feel a cold squirt of lube next, just a bit, not enough to get messy, and I know that this is just a tease. He eases the tip of a finger, maybe his thumb, into my dark hole, and I focus on the muscles that control that sphincter. I push back against him, knowing that will actually pull his finger in further. He pumps in and out, slow at first, then faster, and I rock up to meet his hand, eager for the invasion.
    “That’s so fucking hot,” he grunts, and I know he means it both literally and aesthetically. “Love that you open for me, baby.”
    And I was. As if to prove the point, he slowly pulled out, then pressed again at my opening, this time with two firm pads. Oh god, yes. The muscles fluttered, welcoming the touch, and this time the invasion was smooth and quick.
    How did we not do this before? Why did we wait so long?
    Sometimes he lets me play with his ass when I’m sucking his cock, and I love it, but we don’t do that in the middle of the night. When he wakes me up like this, I’m his to fuck and suck and lick, to come in or on, and I get off on it in a way I never would when I’m fully awake. Of course, I am awake now, totally, but I woke up in this altered state of arousal and it makes me a different person, frees the baser part of myself to submit without thinking too much about it. Without limits or concern. The truth is that it isn’t what we do that’s different at night, but how we do it.
    When we have sex in the evening, or morning or afternoon when given the opportunity, there’s a lot more talking. What we like, what we don’t like, how we feel about each other. At night, it’s reduced to the purest form of communication. His action, my reaction. When he wakes me and takes me, it’s with a unique confidence that I will like it, and that pleases us both.
    That’s the thing about depravity. Once your mind is open to it, it’s not so depraved after all. It’s just delicious.
    His cock knocks up against my pussy, like a silk wrapped homing missile, and I reach for it blindly between my legs. I gasp as my fingers slip effortlessly into my folds. I’m so fucking wet it might be embarrassing if it wasn’t so hot. I moan into the pillow and rock against his length.
    “Yeah, baby, I feel it. You’re so ready for me. Dripping for me.” He eases his thumb out of my ass and I whimper at the loss. “God yes, you want to get fucked, don’t you?”
    I nod again and arch my back, presenting both options to him.
    He chuckles and shifts behind me, and I’m about to beg, or try to impale myself on his cock, when I feel him press into me, placing himself just inside my pussy at first, then the inexorable cleaving that makes me cry out. “Ohmigod,” I breath, as he sinks fully into my warmth. “Oh, god. Fuck me, please.”
    He flexes inside me, his cock nudging at my cervix, and I can just imagine it kissing his head, asking ever so nicely for a warm bath of sperm. I arch my back, folding my hips as much as possible, until my clit rubs against the bottom of his cock. I wiggle back and forth until his palm slaps down on the side of my ass.
    “Stop moving. You don’t need to come right away.”
    I cry out, because yes, I think I do. “Please,” I whisper.
    Please put your finger back in my ass. Please pinch my clit until I buck against you like a rodeo horse. Please make me come so hard I pass out and can’t remember where you finished. I promise I won’t care.
    “Stop thinking about what you want.” He folds himself forward over my back, his breath drifting over my shoulder and along the