“Let’s See if This Works…” – The Sex Scientist Files

If you’ve read the “Toy Story” series, you’ve ‘met’ Stefan- my “Sex Scientist” partner. He is constantly thinking of new and interesting ways for us to enjoy our sexy times together, so I thought it would be fun to write an occasional series of stories about his experiments and our deliciously naughty adventures. 

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Laying on the couch, stretched out naked, side-by-side, all our weekly rituals complete; disrobing, dinner, smoking weed, a glass of wine- my head rests lightly on his shoulder and chest, and I slowly caress his skin. I love touching him like this. He’s not ticklish, so I can run my fingers oh so lightly over his skin and he just hums under my ministrations. He really likes it when I pinch a little, pulling on the sensitive skin just between his hip and his beautiful manhood.

His arm around me keeps me close to him. His fingers make soft swirling circles on my naked hip, occasionally dipping down to squeeze and caress my fat ass. I hold tight to these gentle moments, soft touches, light kisses, more so because of the rough handling I know is still to come. 

He turns his face toward me, kisses my forehead, and says, “So, what do we do to you tonight?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. I leave that up to you. I did have an idea though, for someday, maybe, I mean, maybe.”

“What’s the idea?” 

“It’s more like, just a fantasy.”

“So, tell me, you brought it up.” I can see his ‘sex scientist” wheels turning in anticipation of my suggestion. He gets up and starts to prepare the room for our evening, turning off the lights and making sure the candles are lit. I sit up and switch my position on the couch so I am sitting with my back against the arm of the couch, ass on a pillow, and ready to spread my legs for him. 

“Well, I thought it would be amazing if we found someone else who could be fisting me, while you fucked me in the ass.” 

He sits down crossed legged in front of me, pulls the fisting gel, the poppers, and the CDB lube all closer to us and looks at me. 

“Hmm, I don’t know if all of that would fit. We’d have to figure out if there is enough room for that to work.”

“OK.”

“I think maybe Sally would be willing to try with us. I’ll think about that. But her hands are rather big, she can’t fist me, they’re too big. Well, let’s see what we can figure out.”

He nods his head and grabs the CBD lube, and I know that’s my cue to spread my legs across his knees, scoot down and get very comfortable. As usual, the CBD lube starts off cold on my skin, but quickly warms up to a nice menthol tingle as he slowly caresses my vulva, thoroughly coating my labia with the slick liquid. 

He quickly moves on to more advanced touching as he coats his fingers with the ultra-slick and slightly desensitizing fisting gel. His fingers move quickly in and out of my hot wet cunt, then slide up and down my lips and back inside, a wicked smile on his face. I love watching his face. It is a constantly changing array of expressions. Curiosity, satisfaction, arousal… I can usually tell when it’s about to churn out some new experiment, but lately he’s been trying to surprise me, he likes keeping me a bit off kilter. 

He starts to push harder and put more pressure on my body, more fingers pushing insistently inside. My hips push up eagerly to meet his hand. I want his fingers inside me, all of them. I want his whole hand inside me, pumping hard, hitting that deep spot that makes me squirm and squirt. But he’s not ready yet for that. It’s still way too early in the evening.  His wheels are turning and he’s not even breathing hard yet. 

He pulls his hand away, smacks me hard on the pussy, laughs at my squeak, hops off the couch, and disappears into the hallway. I enjoy watching his long lithe form saunter across the room and take a minute to slake my thirst with a bit more of the red wine on the table. He returns with the red silicon fist dildo, a black vibrating anal plug, and that wicked grin I know and love. My cunt clenches in anticipation. Clearly the ‘sex scientist’ is in the house and I am about to become part of an elaborate experiment. 

“Let’s see how this will work.” 

I don’t respond. I don’t need to. He is not a sadist (though I am a masochist, those are not the roles we play together) but he IS always in control. He decides how we play. He is the active partner. I am the recipient. (Not a bad gig, I promise you!) We have been together long enough that he knows when to press me to stretch out of my comfort zone (literally and figuratively) and when to stop if I’ve had enough. Our Thursday night ecstasy frequently results in an intensity that reduces me to a pile of shaking muscles and sobbing tears. The intensity only growing stronger the more we play together and our bond grows.  Tonight, is no exception. 

He returns to fingering my wet, waiting cunt with his lube-soaked fingers, pressing in with three fingers right away. As he pumps his fingers in and out, he slides his pinky finger into my ass. I expected this, since he bought out the anal plug. Soon he is paying more attention to my ass, ensuring there is plenty of lube and working from smaller fingers to bigger ones. Then he takes the plug, turns on the vibrations, puts it against the inside of my thigh and adjusts it until I agree to the speed and pattern and he slowly inserts it into my ass. 

The rumbly vibrations deep inside me take a minute to get used to, but he is patient. He watches my face intently waiting for my shoulders to relax and my legs to fall back completely open, before commencing to insert his fingers inside me again. He’s worked his way up to four and is moving them deeper inside, almost to the deep knuckles, alternating every once in a while, with a swift flick of my swollen and sensitive clit. All of my senses are tuned in and every touch makes me want more. 

He has conditioned me like Pavlov’s dog. I want that thick part of his hand, the fattest part of his knuckles to slip inside and stretch my cunt. I want him to push his hand into the narrow closure, holding it there tight and almost painful for a moment, then pressing through, feeling the release and slip as his hand slides fully inside of me. Only then will I really begin to feel satisfied. Only then will I heat up to 100 and start to move into a totally different headspace.   

But he stops short. Four fingers, pressure, and then nothing, coldness. He grins that evil grin again and takes up the red fist shaped dildo, dips it directly into the lube, and looks me in the eye while he coats it generously with the fisting gel. He tells me, “I would take the poppers now, my hands are wet, you’ll have to grab them yourself.” I reach for them and hold the small bottle in my closed fist. I don’t use it right away, but he waits. I realize things are going to move pretty quickly if he’s waiting for me to take some, so I open the bottle and take a few deep sniffs. He looks on approvingly. 

“Good. Be sure to use it, it’ll give me more room to work with.” (Insert evil grin here.) 

With that, he begins to work the toy fist inside me, pressing in and pulling out. “I can’t feel what’s going on, so you’ll have to tell me if something isn’t ok.” I nod my agreement. I can’t find my voice; the poppers are filling my head and the red fist is pressing in and filling my cunt.  Finally, he presses hard enough that the thickest part of the fist passes through and it settles deep inside. My back arches and my hips thrust upward as he starts to move in and out faster and faster. 

He knows me, and he knows his technique. Before long he’s pushing in hard and deep but pulling out just in time, forcing me to curl in on myself. I can feel the liquid fullness inside my body begin to grow and the desire to push back out increases. I take a few deep breathes. I consciously relax my shoulders, relax my cunt, and remind myself to just let go. I take a few more breaths of the poppers as he works his magic until suddenly, he pulls the toy out with a gush of hot liquid flowing behind the silicon fingers, splashing his crossed legs in front of me. 

He can’t resist, he wants to feel for himself, so he presses in with his own hand, re-lubing his fingers and my lips, the last gush changed the consistency and he wants it to be slippery again. I am in my own place in my head and barely recognize that he’s changed from the toy to his own hand, until he reaches the stretch, the point where his hand is larger than the toy. He feels me tense, he knows I love that spot, so he holds there. He turns and twists his fisted hand but doesn’t move forward until I can’t wait any longer. He is breathing heavily, leaning towards me, his eyes are starting to glaze over. We’re both falling into the zone now. Finally, I can’t stand it a second longer and I push my ass up, forcing his hand deeper until my cunt sucks his hand fully inside me with a beautiful slide. 

Oh god. I love this. I slip deeper away from reality and into my place of total overload as he fucks me with his hand. Turning his knuckles to the right with each insertion, pushing past the most sensitive place inside me, I gasp each time he turns and pushes hard against the back wall of my vagina, yet I know that if I can relax, I will be gushing hot liquid all over him again in no time. 

I lose sense of time, I know he does too. We love this moment, the primal instinct to push and pull. I make so much noise, gasping and crying out with each pump of his hand inside me, breathing ragged and heavy, both of us losing ourselves in all the sensations, feels, smells, and sights. Him pumping his hands in and out of me, me reveling in the way he takes his pleasure from me, by pleasing me in a way that I am almost ashamed of, the pleasure I get from him fisting me like this.

He replaces his hand with the red fisting dildo again and tells me to turn over, “…but keep this inside.”  I turn over onto my knees, holding the dildo deep inside me. I spread my legs and lower my stomach over the pillow. I keep the poppers close at hand because I know what’s coming next. This is the ultimate aim, the final act.  He pulls the anal plug out and starts lubricating my ass again. He reminds me to take the poppers. 

“Let’s see if I can fit. If I do, we’ll know your fantasy will work.” 

Slowly, he places the tip of his cock against my ass and presses down. I wiggle just a bit to make it more comfortable. I love the feeling of him taking me, taking this final step to use my body for our pleasure. He slides in and gives me a moment to adjust to the feeling of both the fist dildo and his thick cock inside me. He leans down across my back, breathes gently on my shoulder, and gestures to the poppers. I open the bottle and hold it so he can take some too. From this moment on we will alternate, every time I feel the desire to use it, I will offer it to him too, pushing us both further and further from the reality of the couch in the living room and moving us to take residence in our own worlds, together but separate; completely focused on the pleasure of the moment. 

He starts to rock, gently at first, fucking my ass with ease. I lift my hips and ass up, encouraging him. I want him to know that I’m ready. I want more. I need it. One final sniff of the poppers and we are gone. Lifted up from space and time, he starts moving faster, deeper, and harder. His breath ragged, hips pushing his hard cock deep inside with abandon. I know nothing now except his deep fast thrusts hitting me hard, rubbing the dildo in my full vagina though the anal wall, the movement of the dildo inside adding to that feeling of fullness and the sensations start to build inside me. 

I feel his sweat hitting my back in cold drops, the fingers of one hand gripping my hip painfully hard, the other hand pulling my shoulder back and giving him leverage to fuck me even harder. We are both moaning and crying out, but still we’re not done. He fucks me harder and harder. I am crying, calling out “Yes! Yes! Please more! Harder!” He has no words but sometimes I think I hear him mumbling in German (he loses his ability to speak English to me in these moments…) 

I don’t know how long he fucks me before he finally heaves forward especially hard. My head bumps into the arm of the couch as he groans in time with the last few hard, deep thrusts and he comes loudly. He collapses, letting his body drape across mine, his breathe ragged in my ear. I am panting still. I can’t move. I am not there yet. I am still floating. It’s going to take me a minute to come back to earth. 

My emotions start to surface and I can’t stop myself from crying. The sobs shake my body. The tears flow liberally. I am still gone in my own head, that alternate space these adventures often take me, so I don’t even try to wipe them away; I just lay there with his weight on me and feel all the feels. He gently kisses first one shoulder, then the other, lightly blowing his breathe across my sweaty neck. He doesn’t try to bring me back to the surface, he just lays there, still inside me, quiet, and waiting. 

When I’m ready, I reach up, wipe at the tears and snot and turn my face towards him. I smile. His hair has fallen into his beautiful face, his dark green eyes stare into mine. I reach up and move the hair away from his eyes. He knows this is the sign that I am back, and he gently disengages himself from me. He gets to his hands and knees over me, kisses my forehead, and goes to get a towel to clean us up. He comes back, hands me the towel and says with a grin, “Looks like that fantasy of yours will work!” 

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