An Erotic Story of Role Reversal
"Inside Danny's House," a Vanilla short story by Anna Roy
Perspiration by Mick Payton, available at Obsession ArtMy boyfriend knelt before me, and I leaned down, touching the muscles of his ass, on the outside, just lightly, with one finger. I had barely tapped him on the cheek but I saw him quiver and shudder as though he felt a chill.
I leaned down onto one hand, without touching him, and put my mouth as close to his ear as I could, my hair falling down to the left. I held my breath as I did this, so that he wouldn’t feel me there. Then I breathed out and said, “I’m going to fuck you so hard.”
We didn’t plan to spend Saturday afternoon switching places; it had just happened because I’d stopped by and surprised him. When I’d arrived at his door, I’d prepared to treat him to a quick glass of wine and make love with him. I hadn’t called ahead because I wanted this to come out unexpectedly.
I rang the bell, holding the glasses and the wine in my hand, feeling the breeze come off the lake nearby and rustle the leaves of his hedges. I was shaking, feeling nervous, as he opened the door wearing just his old college t-shirt and a pair of denim jeans, barefoot.
“Hi!” I said, and before he could respond, I shrugged out of the robe I was wearing. I couldn’t believe that I’d driven all the way over there wearing just a bathrobe, and I’d been so lucky that none of his neighbors were out working in their yard so that I wasn’t seen as I got out of the car and walked up the sidewalk. Now, hidden by the hedges so that nobody but he could see me, I still felt a thrill as the wind blew across my bare nipples, making them spring up erect and proud, and moving through the thin strip of hair I’d left when I’d shaved my pussy that morning.
Danny reacted exactly as I thought he might: He stood there gaping, and I smiled in response, holding up the wine and glasses. “Drink?” I said, and paused, “Or fuck?”
He stepped outside and wrapped his arms around me. I felt his cock bulging through the jeans, against my bare pubic mound, and he pressed it into me as his hands did what they always did: wrapping tightly around my back and then plunging down, until he had one butt cheek in each hand. Then he grabbed them and pulled and I felt my ass open up, the small hole feeling the cool air of the early fall day. At the same time, he kissed me, putting his head to the side and rubbing his lips onto mine, pressing them against me, using them to open up my mouth. I let him do it, as I always did, melting into his arms a little, letting him hold me up by my butt as he slid his tongue into my mouth. I felt it rubbing up and down my own tongue, felt the coarseness of his jeans sliding into me, contrasting with the way his t-shirt, old and worn, felt soft and cool against my nipples.
I nearly came at that, I was so excited from just the planning and driving over, but I didn’t have time because he let go and backed up.
“I wish you’d called,” he said, “Or that you’d come fifteen minutes ago. I was just heading out.”
“Well…don’t,” I said, wrapping my right arm around his neck, pulling him into me again. He put his lips onto mine. As my breath hit his tongue, I felt my thighs clench up, and my pussy get moist. I wanted him to kiss me, but instead, he moved his head down, his chin nuzzling into my neck. Then, he flicked his tongue against the hollow of my shoulder, tickling me. My knees quivered.
“I have to,” he said. “My alarm has spoken.”
Danny runs a retail shop, high-end electronics, closed on Saturdays because, he says, people with money don’t shop on Saturdays. If the alarm went off, he’d have to go, and I knew it, but I couldn’t help myself. I pulled him in more.
“Make me come,” I said. “Right here.”
He held his hands on my ass cheeks a second more, then pulled his right hand off slowly, trailing one finger around the line of my waist. When he reached my belly, just below my belly button, he slid it down, down, down, until he subtly brushed the hairs above my pussy. He pressed one finger into me and said, “I’ll make you come more than you can imagine. Give me a half hour.”
“Okay… ” I moaned, waiting for him to push his fingers in, to massage my pussy from inside, but he pulled back. I almost fell down, then he kissed my forehead.
“Go in,” he said. “I’ll be back soon.”
He leaned down and picked up his sneakers, pulling them on while I tried to gather my thoughts. Before I could even think straight, and before my stomach muscles had stopped quivering at the thought of his hand moving just a centimeter further, he was two steps away. Danny stopped, looking back at me, then down at his cock clearly pushing against his jeans.
“I hope the cops don’t notice it,” he said.
“Save it for me,” I said, quietly, and he smiled, winked, and walked down to the driveway.
I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down. My pulse was racing. I felt a little wobbly, but I made it inside and put the wine and glasses onto his kitchen counter. I stood there in his cool, dim kitchen, and I could still feel the way he pressed up against me. I wanted his cock in me so badly that I couldn’t stand it. I tried to distract myself but all I could see was the way his jeans had bulged out, the way they had strained to hold in his cock, the way they had looked as though the little metal prongs of his zipper were going to burst open and his smooth, long member would burst out, tip round and a little pale, with a tiny drop of pre-cum on the end of it. I wanted to wrap my hands around it, to flick that little moist pearl off and touch it to my lips, then lie back and guide him in between my thighs.
“Oh, fuck,” I said out loud, as I pictured it. My patience had vanished and I couldn’t stand it anymore. Right there in Danny’s kitchen, alone in his house, I climbed up on his counter and leaned back against the refrigerator. The countertop made me shake a little, cold and hard, and I held my hands on my breasts, pinching my nipples and feeling my pussy clench each time I did that. With my left hand still holding my breast, cupping it and squeezing gently, I slid my right hand down. Palm over my pussy for just a second, I gasped, and then I couldn’t take it, and I slid three fingers in as quickly as I could.
“Oooooooohhhhh,” I moaned, and I came almost the second my hand went inside me. I pulled it back out and breathed heavily, looking at my shiny fingers glistening with my own wetness.
After a few minutes, I felt like I could stand again, and I rubbed my hand on my leg and slid back off the counter. I walked through Danny’s living room, looking at the large TV and DVD player he had front and center and his prized, leather couch, wondering if I should watch something until he came back. “A half hour,” he’d said. It’d been only a few minutes. I didn’t feel like sitting still, and I was enjoying walking naked through his house, my robe still on the porch waiting for him to see it when he got back. I thought of that and got a little excited again. He’d see it and know that I was in his house, naked, waiting for him.
I walked up to his bedroom and opened the door he’d had mostly shut. I thought maybe I would arrange myself on his bed, lay with my legs apart, or maybe up. Or maybe I’d have my back to him, let him see my ass. He liked it, he said, liked to feel it.
In his room, he had his laundry spread on his bed, some of it folded into neat stacks with most of it waiting in a basket nearby. He’d been doing laundry, it seemed, and I walked over and looked at it, at the dress shirts he had neatly piled on one side, the socks he was sorting on the other. In between were athletic shorts, a couple pairs of jeans, and his underwear.
I picked up one pair of underwear, a pair I hadn’t seen before. It was sheer, almost, feeling silky but in a tough way. It wasn’t like any of my own panties. It felt smooth and soft but strong. It was small, too small almost, and I tried to remember what Danny looked like in just his underwear, but I couldn’t. I usually stripped it off of him too quickly.
I looked around, even though I knew nobody was there. Then I bent down and slipped my feet into the holes, pulling them up. They were too large, of course, but I arranged them so the waistband hung on my hips and held them up with one hand.
They felt…wonderful. When I moved, even just a little, the shiny material brushed against my skin, making it feel electric, and if I leaned forward a little I could make it brush the outside of my pussy. The looseness helped, rubbing it back and forth.
I got a little more excited at that, and pulled them up more, rocking back and forth a little, feeling myself get excited again, my labia anticipating something touching them but getting only teased.
I looked at the jeans and his t-shirts. What does Danny feel like, I wondered, and quickly picked up a pair of jeans and pulled them on too. They wouldn’t stay up but I saw a belt on the end of the bed and so I slid it on, pulling it as tight as it could go. Then, I put on one of his old t-shirts and looked at myself in the mirror.
The clothes were baggy but for some reason, exciting. I stared at myself and then looked down at my own crotch, at the zipper I’d forgotten to zip up. I felt myself breathe a little heavier. As though I couldn’t help myself, my hand crept down and slid inside the pants. I felt the zipper biting into my hand, and I bit my lip and pressed my right hand against my ass. I opened my eyes and saw me, in Danny’s clothes, with one hand grabbing one of my butt cheeks like he would, and the other slipped inside my barn door.
I couldn’t quite reach in between my legs. The zipper was tight around my wrist and I strained and pressed my fingers against Danny’s underwear, pushing it into my damp cleft, straining to rub the stretchy underwear against my hot region. I gasped as I felt my fingers get inside a little.
“My god, that’s hot."
The words came from behind me, and I spun around, hand still in my…Danny’s pants.
“They… um… they called on my phone. False alarm. I didn’t have to go all the way to the store.”
Danny stumbled on his words and stared at me, looking at my hand inside his pants that I was wearing.
As he looked, I couldn’t help myself. I tried to finger myself more, tried to continue what I’d been doing. I didn’t even think about it. I just tried to make myself come, for the second time in a few minutes. Danny watched, and then said, “That is the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” He started to take off his shirt, and I suddenly thought of something.
“Stop,” I said.
He looked at me.
“I’m the man, now,” I said.
He just stared. I pulled my hands out of my pants and said, “Kneel down.”
He obeyed. I moved in front of him and grabbed his face, taking each cheek in one hand. I knew my hands smelt like my own pussy and knew he would enjoy that. I pressed his face into my crotch and pressed my pussy against him, letting him smell my excitement. The bottoms of my breasts rubbed against the top of his head, exciting me more. I pushed his face in between my thighs and ground against him, rubbing my body up and down while holding him still.
“God I want you,” he said when I let him pull back.
“Take your shirt off,” I said, and he did. I told him to stand up and take his pants off, and he did that, too, standing naked in front of me, his cock pointing straight out at me and quivering with anticipation.
“Turn around,” I told him, and he did that, too. I went up behind him, still wearing his clothes. I wrapped my arms around him, pressed my breasts so hard against his back that I could feel my nipples fighting back, straining. I pulled him to me and pressed my crotch against his ass.
“Like that?” I said. He gasped and swallowed. “Want me to play with you?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
I reached down and ran my hand, once, over his cock, feeling him straighten and twist a little as he tried to get his penis into my hand, to get me to grab it. But I didn’t. Instead, I shoved him, a little, and said, “Kneel down. On your hands and knees.”
He did that, too, and that’s when I just stared at him, and touched his ass, once, on the outside, with my index finger. That’s when I told him that I was going to fuck him hard. I pressed my lips against his ear, reached my right hand down between his legs and grabbed his cock, forcefully, and just held it in my hand. Then I reached down with my left hand and undid my belt, his belt, but I left my underwear, his underwear, on. I pressed my mound up against the crack of his ass, my right hand still in between his legs, still holding his throbbing dick. I could feel it pulse in my hand.
“Please,” he said, but he didn’t say please what. I pressed up against him, my pubic hair pushing through the underwear a little, tickling the crack of his ass.
“Please what?” I asked.
“Please…” he said.
“Say it,” I said
“Fuck me.”
I pushed my left hand in between us, and slid it down so that I could press one finger into my own pussy. I took my right hand out from between his legs and reached around him, grabbing his cock again with my bare hand. Like that, just like that, I began fucking him the way he fucked me, from behind, sliding forward and backward, letting my finger go deeper into my pussy each time and pressing a knuckle against his own ass, sliding it in a little at a time as he bucked back against me.
I didn’t even rub his penis. I just held my hand on it and he arched back towards me and ground his ass against my hand, pushing it ever more further into me. I couldn’t take it and I came, falling forward with my nipples tickling against the t-shirt I still wore. I felt his cock harden and soften and harden and soften, shaking, and knew that he was coming, too. I leaned against him and breathed in the smell of our musk, the sweat and come and heat.
He went down on his elbows, then, and then down to his stomach. I went, too, laying on top of him, my hand still between us, feeling the muscles in his legs and ass quiver. My right hand held his penis, still, and I felt the damp spot of his come underneath it.
“I’m glad it was a false alarm,” I said.
Originally published April 2010