Last weekend, I put sparkly things in my butt. I’ve been thinking about butt-sex a lot since then, but I’ve been thinking even more about what happens before I put butt plugs inside me. There is something delicious about being washed by someone who is going to make you into their pretty little fuck-toy. It makes me feel exposed.
I love how exposed I feel when I shower with them.
“Turn around, let me wash your back.”
I imagine they exchange smirks above my head at my innocence, because I pass him the soap and turn around. For a second, his strong hands are where I expect them… and then they’re wandering lower. Much lower. I choke as I inhale, connecting the sensation with where he must be touching me.
“Aww, was that a whimper little slut?”
“Maybe,” I say, squirming slightly and grabbing at her shoulder for support. She grins at me.
His fingers feel good. The touch feels wrong, but also wonderfully intimate. My embarrassment only feeds my arousal, and I blush as he tells me to spread my legs. I hope the shower spray running down my body will be indistinguishable from the wetness I fear is dripping from my cunt to where his fingers are probing the edge of my butthole.
“Has anyone touched you here before?” he asks, and I shake my head. It feels almost ticklish, and extremely vulnerable. “Well, if we’re going to plug you up and make you into a pretty toy for us, we’re going to have to make sure you’re nice and clean first.”
He rubs his fingers back and forth a little, and that cleaning motion makes me feel small and exposed. I let out a shaky breath.
“I think she likes it,” he tells her, and that casual degradation that comes from being spoken about rather than to almost makes me moan.
“I think she does too.”
I look down, still clutching at her arm but no longer able to meet her bright, sparkling eyes. I’m almost certain that she is getting turned on as she watches me squirm. I love how exposed I feel when they touch me like this.
“Such a dirty girl,” he whispers, and this time I wiggle backwards – just a little – pushing into his touch. His fingers are spreading me and washing me, and it’s the kind of good that makes me ashamed and makes me wet. I let out a whine as the fingers pull away. His hands return, but this time they are soaping up my back, and groping my butt. She joins in, squeezing my tits and and drawing soapy circles up and down my sides.
“Do you like it when he touches you like that?” she asks, and I nod. She slips a hand under my chin to make me look up at her, eyebrows raised. She wants me to say it.
“Yes, I like it.”
“I think you should ask him to finish washing you.”
My cunt betrays me, because as humiliating as having to admit this is, it also makes me wet.
“Will you keep washing me, please?
“Hmm,” his hands skip down close to where I want them, but not close enough. “Why, little slut?”
I blush, knowing that they’re loving every second of my discomfort. I love how exposed I feel when they make me admit the filthy things I want.
“Please keep washing me so you can play with my ass and put a butt plug in me to make me into a pretty little fuck-toy for you?”
“What do you think, should we give her what she wants?”
“She did ask very nicely…”
I arch back into his touch this time, and he chuckles.
“A very eager dirty girl. I think it’s time to hose her off.”
A few seconds later I’m bent over with my legs spread and my hands between the taps. He unhooks the shower-head and directs the stream of hot water at my back first, rinsing away the lathered bubbles. I wriggle impatiently, and he obliges and angles the jet towards my asshole. Warm water and gentle fingers. Cleaning me. I feel helpless, spread and examined. It feels really good.
“I don’t expect our filthy little slut has ever been so clean, has she?”
I try to hide my face in my own shoulder; a pointless action when both my cunt and my asshole are on display for them. I love how exposed I feel when they play with me.
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