Ch. 07 Opening Up

Content Warning: "Feminine" words are used to describe the trans man's genitalia. This story contains explicit sexual content including BDSM, fisting, orgasm denial, intense power exchange and reluctance. All acts are portrayed as safe, sane, and consensual between adults who have pre-established trust and boundaries. Reader discretion is advised. If this is not your thing please move on.

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The sun crept in through gauzy white curtains, painting soft golden light over Anna's bare skin. She stirred first, blinking against the warmth as her eyes adjusted. The room smelled like sleep and sex and last night's fire, faint ashes curling in the air from the hearth they hadn't bothered to put out.

Wolf was still out cold beside her, naked on his back, one arm splayed above his head, lips slightly parted. Peaceful. Beautiful. His hair was a mess and his body looked heavy in rest, spent in a way that made her pulse thrum softly beneath her skin.

She watched him for a long moment.

Then her eyes slid lower.

His legs were slightly open, one knee bent just enough to invite the view she couldn't resist. The memory of Tristan's voice flickered behind her eyes--him grinning as he told her how once, a while back, he'd woken Wolf by fucking him slowly, watching the dreamy confusion melt into needy, incoherent pleasure. How Wolf had loved it.

A low, heated ache bloomed in her clit at the thought.

She bit her lip, careful not to move too fast as she slid closer. One hand brushed over Wolf's chest, down his belly. He didn't stir. Just a soft sigh and a shifting of breath.

She let her fingers glide further down. He whimpered faintly, a dreamy sound, his hips twitching toward her hand as if guided by instinct. Still deeply asleep, but clearly feeling it.

Anna smiled to herself, entranced by how his body responded even in rest.

She knelt between his legs, easing them apart just a little more, then leaned down and really looked. Morning light made every detail vivid: the plush folds, his clit still tucked beneath his foreskin like a secret. She brushed it gently, watched it pulse and peek out--taut and flushed and pretty.

Like a tiny, sensitive cock begging for her mouth.

She couldn't help herself. She sucked it in, slow and greedy, letting her lips wrap around it and swirl her tongue in tight circles. When she let it go, it popped wetly from her mouth.

Wolf's body shivered. A soft moan slipped out of him, so raw it was almost a whine.

Still asleep.

Anna licked her lips and slid two fingers inside his cunt, slow and careful. He gave a helpless little buck, but his eyes remained closed, his mind still dreaming.

She kept going. Licked his clit again, swirled her tongue, sucked. Added a third finger, then a fourth. His walls stretched, soaked and welcoming. Still--still--he slept.

Her fingers curled, stroked, pressed. She devoured him gently, her mouth wet and hot against his clit while her fingers coaxed him toward something inevitable.

When he finally came, his whole body tensed and trembled. His voice cracked around the breathiest, deepest moan, and a fresh flood of slick gushed over her hand.

Anna didn't stop. She stayed there, licking slowly, fingers still inside, waiting for the quivering to subside.

That's when she felt Wolf stir beneath her, breath catching in a broken inhale as the aftershocks of his sleep-drenched orgasm began to fade. He was soaked and twitching around her fingers, lashes fluttering, lips parted.

Then, hoarse and ragged, barely audible:

"F--fist me."

Anna froze. Her pussy clenched around nothing.

She looked down at him, body flushed, limbs loose from sleep, hips just barely moving against her hand like he was chasing what was next. His voice had been wrecked, raw with need, a whisper pulled straight from a dream.

She didn't need to ask again.

Anna pulled her fingers out slowly, watching as Wolf's hole fluttered, stretched and clung to the retreat. He let out a soft moan, hips lifting, trying to follow her.

"Yeah," she breathed, leaning over him, lips brushing his temple. "Look at how hungry you are."

She slicked her hand with the warm flood already coating his thighs, then curled her fingers tight together, the way she knew he liked--thumb tucked, wrist aligned. She pressed the tapered tips to his soaked opening and eased in slowly.

He gasped, not in pain--more like relief. His body opened for her, greedy and willing.

Knuckles, then palm. A pause. A fluttering clench around her wrist.

Anna held still, her other hand stroking his thigh, grounding him.

"Still with me, baby?" she murmured.

Wolf nodded, barely, biting down on a moan. "More."

She pushed further, felt the soft resistance give way. Her knuckles popped through his opening with a slick, yielding stretch, and suddenly her entire hand was inside him.

His mouth fell open. His back arched off the bed.

"Fuck," Anna exhaled, stunned by the heat and grip of him. His cunt pulsed tight and molten around her wrist, fluttering, sucking her deeper, like it wanted her.

She pulled back a little--just enough to feel the catch--and then pushed in again, slower this time, deliberate. Testing. Watching him.

Wolf whimpered, his legs falling wider, body completely open to her. "Please... don't stop."

Her hand moved with slow, grinding rhythm, wrist twisting just enough to stroke his walls from every angle. He was so wet the motion made obscene sounds, slick and wet and deep.

His hips started meeting her in time. Short, stuttering thrusts.

"You feel that?" Anna whispered. "You're taking my whole fist. So fucking good for me."

His hands clutched the sheets, thighs trembling. "Harder," he begged, eyes rolling back. "Please, punch me--harder--"

Anna's breath caught, her cunt throbbing. She adjusted her angle, planted her knees, and started fucking him in earnest.

In. Out. Harder. Faster.

The bed creaked beneath them. Wet, wet sounds filled the air. She fisted him like she meant it--sharp, rhythmic punches of her arm disappearing into him with every thrust, his body jolting with each impact.

Wolf was crying out now, no words, just raw sound. His whole body shook, legs quivering, sweat gleaming on his chest.

"God, listen to you," Anna moaned. "You're dripping. You're sucking me in like you need it."

She drove her arm deeper, knuckles kissing the soft, resistant edge of his cervix, then withdrawing just to slam back in again. Over and over, the slap of her wrist meeting his body loud and rhythmic.

Every thrust made him yelp, moan, break.

"More," he sobbed. "Don't stop--don't stop--I'm gonna--"

And then it happened.

His body seized, muscles clenching, his cunt squeezing around her hand with desperate, fluttering spasms. His thighs snapped closed around her wrist and his whole frame arched, crying out as a gush of slick squirted out of him, hot and sudden, soaking them both.

Anna didn't stop--kept fisting through it, kept punching him slow and hard until his body finally gave out, twitching, breathless, shuddering beneath her.

When she finally eased her hand out, he whimpered, soft and ruined. His legs were shaking. His pussy was stretched open and glistening, twitching with aftershocks.

Anna kissed his thigh, then crawled up to kiss his mouth, gently.

"Good morning, sweetheart," she whispered, smiling against his lips.

Wolf blinked slowly as Anna kissed his mouth, body still limp, wrecked, trembling from the orgasm she'd just dragged out of him. She didn't pull away--just rested there, brushing his hair back with wet fingers, letting their breath mingle.

"That was..." he started, voice scratchy.

"Good morning?" Anna grinned, nuzzling his jaw.

He chuckled, sleepy and ruined. "That's one word for it."

"I've got a few more," she teased, kissing the corner of his mouth.

He groaned and covered his face. "God, stop."

"Oh, don't be shy now." She pressed another kiss to his cheek, then to his collarbone. "You're not allowed to act innocent after letting me fuck you awake."

"That wasn't waking me up," he mumbled. "That was... I don't even know what that was. I think I died for a second."

She laughed, hand running gently down his chest. "Should we revive you with coffee or a shower?"

"Shower," he murmured, stretching like a cat. "But only if you promise to behave."

Anna raised a brow. "Me? Never."

The water steamed around them, hot and clean. Anna let it sluice over her face, rinsing off sweat and slick while Wolf stood under the flow, letting it cascade over his shoulders, head bowed, quiet and calm again.

She watched him for a while. Watched the lines of his back, the curves of his ass, the faint bruises on his thighs from her grip, the flush still lingering in his skin.

Then she stepped up behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and kissed the slope of his neck.

"I have a confession," she whispered in his ear, voice low and tight.

He hummed, relaxed and unbothered.

"I can't stop thinking about it. Feeling my whole hand in your pussy." Her lips brushed his lobe. "I keep picturing it. I want it again. Right now."

He didn't say anything.

He just let out a slow breath, turned around in the water, then faced away from her. And slowly, wordlessly, he bent over--hands braced on the slick tile wall, spreading himself open for her. Offering.

Anna's breath hitched. Awe bloomed low in her belly. "Fuck," she whispered.

She dropped to her knees behind him, letting the water beat on her shoulders, and kissed the base of his spine, one reverent press. Then she reached for him, slow and deliberate, letting her fingers trace over his entrance, which still looked open and willing, flushed and wet.

She slicked her hand with the hot water and the mess still leaking from him, curled her fingers again, and eased them in. He gave, just like before. Opened. Welcomed her.

He moaned softly, one hand dropping to brace his thigh. She worked her hand deeper, feeling the slow, snug glide of his heat wrapping around her wrist. When she was buried to the knuckle again, he shuddered.

"God, you're so ready for me," she murmured, other hand reaching between her own legs.

She found her cunt swollen, soaked. She slipped three fingers inside herself with a hiss, palm pressing up against her clit. Then she stood up and rocked forward--gently at first--until her body was pressed flush to his backside, her hand inside him, her other hand fucking herself against the meat of his ass.

She gasped at the friction. The soft slap of her clit against his skin. His body pulsing around her hand.

Wolf whimpered. Pressed back harder against her, giving her everything.

"You're letting me fuck you while I fuck myself," she moaned into his shoulder. "You're so perfect. You're mine."

Her hips rocked in rhythm, driving her hand deeper into him with each thrust, clit grinding against him with every motion. The tight, rough angle sent sparks through her thighs, her cunt spasming around her fingers.

Wolf was trembling again, soft cries escaping his lips. His muscles clenched every time she pushed in, and Anna was unraveling, soaked from the water and slick and heat, completely lost in the feel of him wrapped around her fist, and her own hand slick inside herself, fucking him and herself all at once.

She came like that--sharp and sudden, breath catching against his shoulder, her hand spasming inside herself, dragging him closer as she buried her face in his neck and held them there, panting, still rocking, unwilling to stop.

And Wolf--he didn't come again yet, but he turned his head slightly, eyes half-lidded and glazed, and whispered, "Again. Please."

Anna grinned, heart pounding.

"You're insatiable."

She kept fucking him slowly, hand sliding in and out with that same easy slickness, her body still pressed warm against his back. Every motion was deliberate. Deep. Intimate. He was close again--she could feel it in the way he started clenching, breath catching, hips trying to chase every thrust.

But she didn't let it happen.

Instead, she paused with her fist nestled deep inside him, kissing the top of his spine.

"Mmm... no," she whispered.

Wolf groaned, low and frustrated. "No what?"

"No coming. Not yet."

"Anna..." he whined, hips shifting. Pushing his pussy back on her hand. "Come on--"

"I have a surprise for you," she murmured, starting to slide her hand free. Slowly. Reluctantly.

He swore under his breath, bracing a hand on the wall.

"You're such a fucking tease," he muttered.

She just kissed the back of his shoulder. "You say that like it's news."

They both laughed, water rinsing away everything between them. It was easy again, warm and close. No awkwardness, no hesitation. Just them.

They dried off lazily, wrapped in towels, skin still humming from touch and heat. Anna ran her hands through her wet hair, watching Wolf flop back onto the bed, all long limbs and flushed skin, towel slipping dangerously low on his hips.

"Alright," she said, with that wicked little glint in her eye. "Time for your surprise."

"Oh god," he muttered, already smiling. "Do I need to be scared?"

"No," she said sweetly. "Just do what I say. Eyes closed. On your back. Legs spread."

Wolf raised a brow but obeyed without question, grinning as he lay back, towel falling away. "Like this?"

"Perfect," Anna said.

He heard her open the drawer beside the bed, rummaging for something. Then the bed shifted with her weight. A moment later, her fingers slid into his pussy again--warm, confident, curling just enough to make him sigh.

But then he felt it: something cooler. Hard.

It pressed against his entrance slowly, insistently.

"Relax," she murmured.

He did. Trusted her completely. Still, he let out a sharp gasp when the smooth, cold object pushed inside him--round and unyielding, heavy, unfamiliar.

"Jesus--what is that?"

She didn't answer at first, just worked it in gently, inch by inch. It was large--almost too large--but he was open, wet, relaxed from the shower and her earlier touch. The shape filled him differently than her hand--blunt and wide like a baseball, heavier than anything he'd felt inside before. His pussy stretched around it, swallowing it slowly, fluttering around the weight as it sank deep.

His breath hitched. "Fuck--Anna--"

She pushed a little more, until it was seated impossibly deep inside, then let go. His cunt clutched at the intrusion, trying to hold it, and he gasped again as his body sealed around it.

"There," she said, voice low and satisfied. "I think like this, it'll stay."

Wolf blinked, panting. "Stay?"

Anna's smile widened.

"Yeah. You'll keep it inside," she said sweetly, brushing a hand down his thigh, "while we go visit the house."

His head whipped toward her, incredulous. "You're joking."

"Nope." She gave the ball a soft little tap from the outside, making him shiver. "You'll walk around with it tucked deep in your pussy, and I'll watch you try not to squirm."

Wolf let out a half-laugh, half-groan. "You are un-fucking-believable."

Anna leaned down, kissed his mouth, and whispered, "You love it."

He did.

More than he could say.

Anna tossed him a pair of loose, soft, cotton pants and a black T-shirt. "Wear something comfy."

Wolf caught them with a raised brow. "That's it?"

"Well, you're hiding a secret weapon now." She smirked, tossing her own hair into a messy bun as she tugged on a high-waisted trouser and a simple cropped tank. "No need to overdress."

Wolf pulled the pants on slowly, hissing a little as the movement shifted the weight inside him. The cold of the ball had long since warmed to his body, but its size and pressure were impossible to ignore. Every step made it roll slightly inside him, nudging a wall, making his muscles clench and flutter involuntarily.

He stood, testing his legs. The sensation was maddening--like he was filled and stretched and on the edge of something that wouldn't come.

"Anna," he said, voice low with warning.

She glanced over, calmly slipping her sandals on. "Yes?"

"I'm already struggling to walk normally."

She grinned and came closer, adjusting the waistband of his pants with a little tug. "Good. Just try not to drip on the sidewalk."

He groaned, half-laughing, half-suffering. "You're evil."

She kissed his cheek, light and smug. "Come on, it's only a short walk."

They didn't need to go far. A few houses down--just past Tristan's place--the terracotta stucco facade came into view, sun-drenched and dappled in climbing vines. The house stood like a soft memory at the end of the lane, vintage midcentury lines softened by time and the unruly kiss of nature. Giant windows caught the light, glowing gold even from the outside. It was half wild, half dream. Just outside the city, but quiet. Spacious. Still.

"You really want this place?" Wolf asked, voice a little strained as the ball shifted inside him with each step.

Anna didn't answer right away. She was already admiring the house like it had whispered something to her.

When they reached the front door--an aged wood panel surrounded by big pieces of warm colored stained glass--she paused and turned toward him. "I want this to be a home," she said softly. "And I want you in it."

Wolf's stomach fluttered, heat rising behind his skin. The ball shifted again, making him gasp softly, breath caught between arousal and emotion.

The house was even more beautiful in the morning light.

They walked the short path slowly, a little unkempt and overgrown, but Wolf liked it that way. Wild lavender pushed through cracked terracotta pavers, and the front garden--half weeds, half charm--felt like something out of a half-forgotten film. The sunlight hit the stained glass panels in the front door just right, throwing soft shapes across the dusty stoop.

Anna lingered a moment, her hand brushing the curve of the doorframe. "This place already feels like us," she said quietly.

Wolf was trying to focus on the house. On the vintage wood detailing, the way the vines crept up the stucco like lace. But the pressure inside him stole every thought. The metal orb shifted with each movement, and the soft fabric of the pants made it worse--more friction, more awareness. Every breeze, every step was a slow burn.

Inside, the air was cooler. Sunlight poured in like honey through the wide arched windows, catching on the exposed beams and the rich, worn grain of the hardwood floor. The house breathed light. High ceilings and exposed beams. It was unfurnished, and somehow that made it more beautiful. Nothing to distract. Just space, and possibility.

Anna moved into the center of the sunken living room and spun slowly. "Look at this. Look at that built-in bench under the window. And that fireplace--"

Wolf followed her, slightly hunched from the way the ball shifted deep inside him, rolling like thunder. His thighs were damp. His cheeks pink.

She caught the way he moved and bit her lip. "Still struggling?"

"I'm going to kill you," he muttered hoarsely.

Anna stepped close, crowding him against the curved textured glass brick wall. Her hand slid down his chest, over the thin T-shirt, and rested at his waistband. "Maybe just a taste," she whispered. "We've got a few minutes."

Her hand slipped inside the soft pants and found him soaked, twitching, already half-lost. She cupped him through the wetness, rubbing slow, lazy circles around the metal's impossible weight. Her fingers found his clit, still peeking out, still swollen from earlier. She circled it deliberately, watching his eyes flutter.

"You like being this full, huh?"

Wolf gasped, hips twitching forward into her hand. "Anna..."

She kissed the corner of his jaw and dragged her teeth along his neck, fingers teasing, slow, perfect.

And then--three sharp knocks echoed from the front door.

They froze.

Anna looked up, lips parted, and sighed through a grin. "Shit. The realtor."

Wolf groaned, half in frustration, half in disbelief. "You're kidding."

She withdrew her hand with a wet sound and casually wiped it against his thigh before stepping away like nothing happened. "You'd better calm down quick, baby," she murmured, tossing him a wicked look as she headed for the door. "You're going to have to answer questions and pretend you're not dripping around a hunk of metal the size of a fist."

He took a shaky breath and leaned against the wall, adjusting himself as subtly as possible.

From the door, he heard Anna's cheerful voice: "Hi! Thanks so much for coming--sorry, we let ourselves in. Hope that's okay."

The realtor's voice replied, muffled and warm. "Of course, of course. This house doesn't mind visitors."

Wolf exhaled slowly, doing his best not to tremble.

The house may not mind visitors.

But his pussy sure did.

The realtor was warm and easy, a man in his sixties with salt-and-pepper curls and worn leather boots that thudded softly on the hardwood as he gestured around the entryway.

"The house was built in the '60s--still has most of the original details. That glass brick wall there was custom, by the way. Local artisan. Same family owned it for decades."

Wolf followed slowly, hands in his pockets, nodding along and pretending to care more about bricks than the throbbing ache between his legs. Every step made the ball shift deeper, pressing against nerves that sparked down his thighs and up his spine. It wasn't just the stretch or the fullness--it was the helplessness of it, how wet he was, how obvious he felt.

Anna didn't help.

She walked beside him like nothing had happened, nodding politely at the realtor's commentary, but every once in a while she'd brush against him. Lightly. Casually. Once, her hand grazed the small of his back, just barely pressing. Wolf felt the ball jolt forward inside him and almost gasped.

"The living room has original hardwood, and that fireplace is all functional," the realtor said, heading toward the kitchen. "Most of these homes have had their guts ripped out, but this one's been loved. Just needs someone to bring it back to life."

Anna looked around slowly, her eyes drinking in the soft lines, the high ceilings, the way light pooled in corners like warm water. "It already feels alive," she murmured, glancing toward Wolf.

He was leaning subtly against the edge of the built-in bench, pretending to admire the curved archway framing the hallway beyond. His breath was shallow. His shirt stuck to his back.

Anna drifted closer.

"How's my good boy holding up?" she whispered, lips barely moving, voice low enough only he could hear.

Wolf didn't answer. He just gave her a helpless look.

"Oh," she said softly, pleased. "You're not just holding it, are you? You're clenching it. You're working that pretty pussy without even meaning to."

He shivered.

The realtor had opened the back door now, calling out over his shoulder, "The garden needs some love, but it's got incredible bones. And that little structure back there used to be a painting studio. It's not wired yet, but you could turn it into anything."

Anna stepped ahead, giving Wolf a little break from her torment, and led the way outside. The sun lit up her shoulders, her loose tank fluttering as she moved through the tall grass and blooming chaos of the garden. The cabin was small but charming--aged wood, a lopsided deck, big windows waiting for stories to fill them.

"This could be a shared studio space," she said thoughtfully. "A little creative den. You with your photos, me with my desk and books and moodboards."

The realtor chuckled as he caught up. "I've shown this house a few times now, but you two seem like you get it. Most people want polished perfection. You want... character."

"We want life," Anna said.

Wolf, behind her, caught her eye again. And this time her look softened. Just a little. Like she saw how undone he really was.

They toured the bedrooms, the tiny study, the quirky bathroom with yellow tiles and a skylight that turned the tub into something magical. Wolf barely heard a word of the commentary. His body was on fire, the weight inside him somehow heavier now. Every stair creaked underfoot. Every tight hallway made his clothes stick. And Anna never stopped looking at him.

By the time they returned to the front door, he felt shaky. Wet. His muscles trembled with restraint.

"So?" the realtor asked brightly. "Thoughts?"

Anna looked to Wolf, and for once, her voice was gentle. "We'd like to talk about it a little on our own. Is that okay?"

"Of course." He smiled, already fishing for his keys. "I'll head out. Just leave the door unlocked when you're done. Take your time."

When the door clicked shut behind him, Wolf collapsed into the nearest chair.

"Anna--"

She was already in front of him, crouching between his knees.

"I know. You did so well," she murmured, fingers slipping up his thighs.

Anna didn't say anything at first. She just knelt there between his spread legs, letting the quiet settle around them, soft and thick like the afternoon light slanting in through the arched windows. Wolf was still catching his breath, his body trembling subtly, his skin flushed in a way that had nothing to do with heat.

He looked down at her, eyes dark and glossy. "Please," he murmured.

She hummed like she was thinking it over, palms sliding slowly up his thighs. "You really did so well," she said. "Walking around all filled up, acting normal while I watched you squirm."

Wolf's head tipped back, a low groan slipping from his throat. The ball hadn't moved much--there wasn't enough space--but its presence was relentless. Every twitch of his muscles, every breath, every shift of his hips sent little pulses of sensation radiating through his core.

Anna leaned in.

Her breath hit his skin first, then her lips, then the soft flick of her tongue over the hood of his clit. Wolf gasped. His hips jerked slightly, a reflex, but she held him down with a firm hand to his belly.

"Stay still," she murmured.

He whimpered, already leaking, already aching. Her mouth was hot, wet, and deliberate--no rush, just slow, precise suction as she coaxed his clit out from under its tight foreskin. It throbbed in her mouth, sensitive and swollen, and she sucked it gently until his legs shook.

He was right on the edge.

"I can't," he whispered. "Anna--fuck--"

"I know," she said softly. "Come for me, baby. But keep that ball inside. Don't even think about letting it go."

Wolf cried out, his whole body seizing up as the orgasm hit--sharp, overwhelming, rippling through his muscles like aftershocks. He clenched hard, locking the ball inside himself like it was part of him. His hole spasmed around the intrusion, making it feel even bigger, hotter, deeper. He throbbed against her mouth, his moans turning into ragged gasps.

Anna didn't stop until the tension left his body and his trembling body calmed down.

She sat back, licking her lips, watching him struggle to breathe.

"Good boy," she murmured. "I felt you clamp down on it. You didn't let go."

Wolf gave a dazed nod, his voice hoarse. "I--I couldn't, it feels stuck inside me."

Anna stood, smoothing her hair and stepping back into the light. "I want it," she said, glancing around at the space like she already owned it. "This house. It feels right."

Wolf blinked, disoriented by the shift in tone.

She walked toward the window, touching the curve of the wall, her voice soft but sure. "I can see it. You here in the mornings, making coffee. Tristan two doors down, bringing his chaos and his charm. A garden we can turn into something wild and beautiful. This little cabin in the back where you'll take photos of me with your fingers inside me..."

Wolf groaned.

Anna turned back to him, her eyes gleaming. "Let's go home," she said. "I want to see you push that ball out of your pussy. All slow. All desperate. I'll watch you from the foot of the bed, maybe even film it." She smiled deviously and winked.

He stood on shaking legs, adjusting his clothes. The pressure inside him shifted again, and he gave a hoarse sigh.

Anna smiled, already walking to the door. "And then," she added, opening it, "maybe I'll let you come again."

Wolf lay back on the bed just as she told him to--naked, legs spread wide, head tilted toward the ceiling like he needed to focus on something far away to stay grounded.

The afternoon light had mellowed into something golden, painting his skin in soft tones. He was still flushed, still sensitive. The orgasm had left him loose-limbed but tightly wound inside, the weight of the metal ball a persistent fullness that demanded attention.

Anna climbed onto the bed, straddling one of his thighs but staying out of the way. In her hand was her phone, already recording. She didn't say it out loud--just locked eyes with him and let the soft red light blink between them, an unspoken promise. She didn't touch him yet. Just watched. Her voice was low and warm.

"Take your time," she murmured. "Feel it. I want to see your body work for it."

Wolf nodded, swallowing hard. His hands came to rest on his thighs, trembling slightly. He exhaled slow and deep, grounding himself. The pressure of the ball had shifted as he lay down, settled deep inside, almost high. It had nestled into that sweet spot where his body gripped it greedily, holding it like it belonged there. Getting it out wasn't going to be easy.

He tilted his hips, tightened his belly, bore down just slightly--like pushing against something too large, too round. The sensation was maddening. His hole clenched in resistance first, then began to yield, slow and reluctant.

Anna let out a quiet breath. "There you go."

He groaned through gritted teeth, sweat forming on his brow. The wide metal curve of the ball started to press lower, almost catching at the edge, but not yet breaching. It slid back into place each time he relaxed, as if his pussy refused to let it go.

He let up, panting, then tried again--his whole body tensing with the effort.

Anna leaned forward, phone steady in one hand, her other brushing up his stomach. Her touch was reverent, awestruck. "I can see it," she whispered. "Just barely. You're doing so well."

"F-fuck," Wolf breathed. "It's too much. It doesn't wanna come out."

"It's because you love it," she murmured, tone indulgent. "Your body's greedy. Doesn't want to let it go. But I want to see it. I want it on film. Come on, baby."

That praise lit him up--his eyes fluttered, his cock twitching even without direct touch. He bore down again, longer this time. The stretch burned sweetly as his hole started to flower open. The slick curve of metal finally pushed to the edge, glinting in the light, glistening with the wetness of his own arousal.

Anna brought the camera closer, voice a hot breath. "There... look at you."

Wolf exhaled shakily, bracing himself again. The effort of pushing had him lightheaded, his entire focus narrowed to the deep fullness inside him. He could feel the ball's edge pressing just at the threshold--so close. His muscles fluttered with effort, everything slick with arousal and heat. Anna's voice wrapped around him like a tether, grounding him.

"I can see it, baby. You're right there," she murmured, eyes wide, phone steady, recording every trembling second.

He clenched his jaw and bore down again, whimpering when the thick curve of the ball finally began to stretch him open. It was painfully slow, the slick metal resisting every inch of progress. His thighs were trembling, hands fisting the sheets. The widest part began to show--his body fighting between the urge to let it go and the desire to keep it.

And then--

"Fuck," he gasped, voice breaking.

His grip faltered for just a second, and the ball slipped back inside with a soft, wet sound, like his pussy had sucked it right back in. The stretch reversed, leaving his hole empty, twitching, desperate.

Anna let out a hot breath, awed and aching for him. "God, that was so hot," she whispered. "You lost it, didn't you? Your pussy didn't want to give it up."

Wolf's face was flushed, a little humiliated and wildly turned on. "It just--went back in."

"I saw," Anna said, voice thick. "That sweet spot it found? It doesn't want to let go."

He groaned, hips tilting. "I'll do it."

"I know you will," she whispered, biting her lip as she focused the camera again. "Show me."

With a deeper breath, Wolf pushed again--this time slower, more deliberate. His face contorted with the effort, sweat at his temples. The ball shifted, rolled lower. His pussy clenched tight, reluctant, but he didn't let up. He pressed harder, straining with everything in him, mouth parted, body arching off the bed as it finally--finally--

The metal ball crowned again. He held steady this time, breath catching, thighs rigid. Anna's eyes were locked on it, on him, as the stretch built and built, then gave.

With a final tremble, the ball slipped free, landing wet and gleaming into her waiting palm.

Wolf collapsed back, shuddering, chest heaving, eyes glassy.

Anna kissed his temple softly, then held the warm, slick metal ball in front of his face like a secret only they shared. "You're not done," she murmured.

Wolf blinked at her, dazed and trembling. "You're putting it back?"

She grinned. "Mmhm. I want to see it again. I want to see you again."

Before he could answer, she slipped down his body and parted his legs once more. His pussy was still open, pulsing, dripping from the effort and the orgasm before. Anna brought the first ball back to his entrance and pressed gently. The heat of his body welcomed it instantly. His hips jerked.

"Still greedy," she whispered.

Then her mouth descended, lips wrapping around his swollen clit with slow, tender suction. Wolf gasped and arched, one hand in her hair, the other gripping the sheets. Her tongue circled, firm and wet, while the ball slipped all the way back inside, nestling deep.

Just as he was starting to pant again, she reached behind her and picked up something else. A second ball--identical in size and weight. She kissed it, slowly, with intent, and pressed it against him.

Wolf's eyes flew wide. "Anna--"

"Shh," she said, stroking his inner thigh. "You can take it. You want to. I know this pussy does."

He moaned, legs falling wider open as she pushed. The second ball met more resistance--his body already full, already pulsing--but she was patient, letting his slick heat do the work. Inch by inch, it disappeared inside him, the stretch almost unbearable, the weight unreal.

Then--pop. It slid fully in, and his pussy clenched tight around the new pressure. He was stuffed, every nerve awake, jaw slack with overwhelmed pleasure.

Anna looked up at him, lips wet, eyes glowing with mischief. "There. So full. You're beautiful like this."

She dipped back down to kiss his clit again, just once--soft and lingering--and then sat up, wiping her mouth.

"Now," she said, voice firm but playful, "show me again."

Wolf stared at her, dazed and dripping, heart pounding, cunt fluttering around the impossible fullness.

He nodded, slowly, breathless. "Okay..."

Wolf exhaled shakily, eyes fluttering closed as he adjusted on the bed, legs spread and bent, arms behind him to brace his weight. The pressure inside him was unbelievable--dense, pulsing, heavy. The second ball had lodged itself deeper than the first, tucked so high inside him that it felt like it was pressing right against his core.

Anna didn't say a word. She'd already set her phone on the nightstand, angled perfectly to capture the view between his legs. The quiet blink of the red recording light made his pulse quicken. She knelt beside him, fingers brushing over his thigh, calm, encouraging.

"Take your time," she said softly. "Feel it first. Let your body talk to you."

Wolf nodded, sweat starting to bloom along his collarbone and chest as he focused inward. The fullness was almost too much--his muscles spasmed and tightened around the cold-slick steel, as if reluctant to let it go. He bore down gently, testing his control. A whimper caught in his throat.

The first ball began to shift. He could feel it pressing against the second one, both jostling slightly with the tension of his push. But as he strained harder, the second ball slid deeper, knocking the first one off track. It rolled back up into him, and he gasped, biting his lip.

Anna's voice was honey and velvet. "Did it slip back in?"

He nodded, frustrated. "Fuck. Yeah. It's like they're working together in there."

"I know. They've found the perfect spot," she whispered, brushing his hair back. "But I still want them. So keep going, baby. Show me how hungry your pussy really is."

He groaned and bore down again, legs trembling from the effort. Sweat beaded down his temple as he pushed--slow, deliberate, focused. This time, he angled his hips slightly up, tilted his weight, and exhaled with the next wave of pressure.

The first ball inched lower. He could feel it--just past the tight ring, trying to crown. His face twisted, jaw clenched, every part of his body tensing to help.

Then--pop.

It slipped free, landing on the towel beneath him with a muted metallic thud. His whole body spasmed at the release, and his head dropped back in relief.

Anna clapped softly, delighted. "There's my good boy."

He was panting, blinking up at her, but already the stretch was demanding attention again. The second ball was still deep inside him, stubborn, snug.

He spread his legs wider, determined. "Okay. One more."

This one took longer. The deeper placement meant he had to work it forward slowly, adjusting his angle, bearing down in waves. Every time it budged, it lit up something new inside him--a shock of heat that made him shake and leak down his thighs.

Anna moved beside him, murmuring praise, fingers skimming his belly and inner thighs, soothing and grounding. She didn't touch where he needed it most. She didn't have to.

Finally--finally--the second ball reached the edge. His whole body shook with the strain as it teased the exit, stretching him wide.

Anna leaned in close. "You're so close, love. Give it to me."

He whimpered, pushed--and the ball slipped free in one final, wet pop, falling next to the first. He collapsed back onto the bed

Before he could catch his breath, Anna took the ball from where it glistened in her palm and slid it back into his pussy, slow and deliberate. Wolf gasped, whole body twitching as it slipped past his entrance again, nestling into the warmth it had just left.

"Still fits like it belongs there," she murmured, kissing his hipbone.

His legs were still spread, pliant and trembling, his hands gripping the sheets. He barely registered the slick glide of her fingers returning, but his body opened to her like it had been waiting. She eased in past her knuckles, then deeper, her hand curling inside him with practiced ease.

His voice came out hoarse. "Anna--"

"Shh." Her eyes were dark, steady. "Let me feel you again."

The metal orb sat high, pressed somewhere perfect, but it didn't stop her--she used it, worked around it, letting her hand stretch him from the inside while the cool pressure of the ball added its own sweet resistance.

He moaned when her wrist passed through, and his cunt sucked her in greedily. Her palm ground gently against his clit, every slow movement coaxing more slick from his needy hole.

Then she went still.

"You know what I want," she said, voice like silk. "I want both."

Wolf's eyes fluttered open, dazed. "Both?"

She reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the second metal ball, just slightly smaller than the first. Showed it to him, let the sight of it linger while her first hand stayed buried deep inside him.

"You can take it," she whispered, leaning over to kiss his flushed cheek. "You're already halfway there."

Her other hand pressed gently at his entrance, just enough to tease. With the first still inside, his body fluttered around her, hungry and unsure.

"Relax for me. Breathe."

She kissed his thigh, sucked his clit slowly, gently--never quite enough--and he groaned, hips tilting, inviting her in. With exquisite care, she pushed the second ball in alongside her hand. His cunt stretched wide around her, the pressure dizzying. He gasped, whining as his body adjusted, the sensation impossibly full, almost too much--and yet not enough.

Anna's breath hitched as she watched it disappear. "God, look at you."

She held still, letting him feel it all. Both balls. Her whole hand. The stretch. The heat. The deep, unstoppable ache of fullness.

And then--slowly, steadily--she started to move again, curling her fingers deeper, seeking out the spots that made him sob.

And then--slowly, steadily--she started to move again, curling her fingers deeper, seeking out the spots that made him sob.

His entire body quaked with the stretch and slick pressure, the way her hand and the balls shifted inside him like they were rearranging his insides, lighting him up from the core. His moans were broken things now, caught between desperation and awe.

But then--suddenly--Anna stilled again.

Wolf blinked down at her, dazed and wrecked, his chest heaving. "Why'd you stop?"

She pulled her hand back--slowly, gently, careful not to jostle the heavy fullness too abruptly--and he whimpered as the slick slide of her withdrawal left him gaping and trembling, both balls still nestled deep inside.

Anna met his eyes with a quiet smile, warm and relentless. "You're going to push them out again."

He stared at her, jaw slack. "What? No. Anna--"

"Yes," she said, brushing the back of her hand down the trembling inside of his thigh. "You've done it once. You can do it again. But both, this time."

His breath caught in his throat. "I... I don't think I can."

"You can," she said softly, coaxing his legs open again. "You're still soft and open. Still full of me. Just breathe. Focus. Push for me."

He shook his head, just a little. "They're so deep," he whispered. "I can feel them... they don't want to move."

Anna leaned in, her mouth grazing the shell of his ear. "They like it in there. But I want them. Show me how you give them up."

Her words landed deep in his chest, his belly, his aching cunt. He whimpered and nodded, blinking back overwhelmed tears as he gathered himself again--wrapping his hands behind his thighs, spreading himself wide open on the sheets. The first ball had seated itself high, almost teasing, and the second had found a place to rest behind it, heavy and snug. They pulsed there, like a secret.

He took a breath. Another. Focused.

And began to bear down.

Nothing happened at first--only a strange resistance, like his body was clinging to them, too greedy to let them go. He groaned, trying again, trembling with the effort. A little slick slid out, but the balls remained right where they were.

Anna stroked his belly, his thigh, murmuring soft encouragements. "Good boy. That's it. Open for me."

He exhaled through his nose, gathered every bit of strength and control, and pushed again--longer, harder. His walls clenched and stretched, the pressure rising--and then, finally, the second ball began to shift, just barely.

He gasped. "It's moving--fuck, it's--"

And then he lost it.

His muscles seized, a wave of instinct tightening him back up, and the ball slipped right back in with a wet, maddening slide.

"No--god, no--fuck!" He writhed, voice caught somewhere between a sob and a moan.

Anna smiled. "Almost. You're close."

"I can't," he whispered, eyes glassy.

"You can," she said, firm but loving. "Again."

Her fingers returned to his clit, slow and coaxing, not enough to let him come, just enough to keep his body awake and wanting. "Breathe deep. Push slow. Give them to me."

Wolf shuddered--and obeyed.

He bore down with everything he had, muscles trembling with effort. Anna's touch on his clit blurred into the background--he was entirely inside his body, deep in the raw sensation of pressure and stretch and need. And then--suddenly--it shifted.

The first ball slipped free in an instant, wet and heavy, landing with a quiet clink on the towel beneath him.

He barely had time to gasp before the second followed in a rush, both orbs slipping out with a sudden gush of slick heat that squirted from his cunt in an unbidden, shuddering spray.

He cried out--loud and ragged--his hips bucking high off the bed, back arched, legs trembling wildly. Moans tore from him, unfiltered and raw, his whole body alight with sensation.

But he didn't come.

The pleasure surged like a storm just past the edge of control, but didn't crest. His pussy clenched around emptiness, fluttering and gasping, undone.

Anna made a quiet sound of awe, watching the wet gleam on his inner thighs, the wildness of his moans, the raw beauty of the release without climax.

"Fucking breathtaking," she murmured.

Before he could catch his breath, she pushed her hand back inside him.

Wolf sobbed, the stretch overwhelming--but his body welcomed her, slick and open. Her wrist passed through again, and she filled him without pause. Her other hand reached between his legs and found his clit, teasing soft, slow circles, syncing with the rhythm of her movements inside him.

"You didn't come," she whispered, fingers slick with his wetness. "You just broke wide open for me."

He moaned, high and wrecked.

"Do you feel it?" she asked, pressing deeper inside, letting her fingers curl against his sweet spots while her thumb rubbed gently at his clit. "That emptiness I filled. That space I opened."

He could barely nod.

Her fingers danced against his swollen bud while her other hand flexed inside his cunt, wrist-deep, stroking him from the inside. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt him pulse around her, every shift and flutter like a living heartbeat.

"Stay open for me," she murmured, leaning close, kissing his chest. "I'm not done yet."

Anna's fingers stayed at his his clit, teasing it in those slow, maddening circles, but her other hand--the one buried wrist-deep inside his soaked pussy--shifted slightly, curling and pressing against the slick, trembling walls as though she were making space for more.

He gasped, the feeling almost too much, but then her touch changed again. A fingertip from her free hand found the rim of his stretched hole--already spread wide around her wrist--and began to tease gently, tracing the edge where slick heat met the cool air of the room.

Wolf flinched. "No--Anna, fuck--wait--"

But she was already pressing inward, slow and deliberate. Her gaze flicked up, catching the panic blooming in his wide, tear-glossed eyes.

"Shh," she said softly, her voice rich with awe and desire. "I've got you."

He shook his head, hips jerking. "It's--too much, you're already--"

"I know," she said, kissing his thigh, then his lower belly. "That's why it's perfect."

Her first finger slid in beside her wrist, snug and tight, and he whimpered, hips trying to squirm away--but she kept her mouth on his clit, just enough to stop him from slipping too far from the edge. Just enough to fog his brain with heat and pulse and need.

"Anna," he said again, his voice breaking around her name, "please, it's too much--I can't--"

"You can," she said gently. "You're doing it. Look at how your pussy just takes me."

Her second finger pressed in, firmer this time, pushing against the elastic pull of his entrance, and she groaned when it slipped through. His cunt fluttered around her, stretched beyond reason, and his whole body arched.

She paused, both fingers now nestled against her buried wrist, her tongue never letting up on his clit.

"Still with me?"

He whimpered, nodding against the pillow, cheeks streaked with tears.

"Tell me your word," she said softly, not stopping but not going further either.

Wolf took a shuddering breath. "Red."

Her expression eased into something warm and molten. "Good boy."

And then the third finger came. Slower. Rougher. The stretch was deliberate, wicked. Wolf's protest came back in a rush, breathless, full of wild panic.

"No, no, Anna--fuck--I can't, please--"

She kissed his hip. "Yes you can. It's just sensation. You're so much bigger inside than you think. Let me show you."

He shook beneath her. "It won't--fuck, I can't take it, stop I--"

But his body betrayed him. His cunt was soaked and pulsing, greedily fluttering around her hands, giving more even as his voice begged for less. Her third finger slipped inside with a thick, slow pop, and Wolf moaned, the stretch now deep and searing.

"Almost there," she whispered.

The fourth was the slowest of all.

He cried out when it breached him, four fingers from her second hand sliding in beside the one already fully inside him. The pressure was immense--her two hands filling every inch of him, pressing him wide open.

She twisted slightly, her wrists moving opposite, and Wolf screamed.

But she didn't move past that. Not yet.

Her fingers stilled. Her breath was warm against his clit.

"You're so fucking stretched," she said in awe. "I can feel how deep you go."

He moaned, high and trembling, barely coherent.

And then--only when his walls began to ease, only when his breath slowed into something ragged and yielding--she began again.

Her palms moved. Twisted. Stroked.

The unmistakable rhythm of someone stretching him open.

Her fingers flexed, pushing outward, applying pressure not just in depth but in width. His pussy fought to resist, but it was slick and soft, desperate and tender, and slowly, slowly, it began to yield and she was spreading it open.

Her breath was shaking now too. "I want to fit both. I want to feel everything inside you."

His protest surged back, weak and choked. "Nonono I--I can't--Anna, please--please--don't"

But she was already there.

Both of her hands, working him open. Stretching him to his limit. The second wrist slipping forward with maddening patience, meeting the first in a moment of pressure so intense it bordered on transcendence.

He screamed again, wordless, guttural--his whole body arching meeting her hands as she pressed deeper, wider, more.

Not just filled.

Opened.

Wolf's back arched like a drawn bow, every muscle taut, vibrating with sensation. His mouth was open but soundless now, breath catching in little gasps as his body tried to make sense of what was happening--what she was doing to him.

Anna's breath was hot and steady, her eyes locked on where his cunt stretched around both her wrists, glistening and flushed, drawn wide in a way that looked impossible and yet--undeniably, miraculously--real.

"You're opening for me," she whispered, reverent. "You're taking both."

Her hands shifted, not in or out, but against him, filling every inch, her palms pressing outward. His cunt pulsed wildly, like it couldn't decide whether to clench down or pull her deeper, the fluttering tension trembling through him like aftershocks.

Wolf groaned--long and low--his voice cracked and broken, thick with disbelief. "I can't--I can't--fuck, I am--"

"Yes," she breathed. "You are."

Her fingers moved with a slow, focused rhythm, grinding gently inside him, pushing pressure against his inner walls--no longer just penetrating, but stretching. Not just taking space, but making more.

"You feel that?" she murmured, tongue brushing lazy circles around his clit again"That stretch? That fullness? You were made for this."

He sobbed, too deep inside the sensation to speak. His body rocked with her movements--half involuntary, half desperate--his hips tilting to give her more, even as his voice whispered broken no's that didn't mean no.

Every twist of her wrist, every slow outward press, every nudge against the silken walls of his cunt made his legs kick, his moans shatter. He didn't know what he wanted anymore. Only that this--this unbearable too-much--was exactly where he was meant to be.

Anna didn't ask again.

She could feel it in his body--the way he gave himself over, finally and fully, to her hands.

So she pushed deeper.

Her second wrist met resistance, but his slick cunt fought and yielded in equal measure. She took her time. Let it stretch. Let it resist. Then she gave the final push with a low groan and a wicked murmur of, "There it is."

And just like that--she was inside.

Double-fisted.

Wolf screamed.

The sound was unhinged, not from pain, but from the raw, overwhelming reality of it. Of being opened that far. Of holding both of her hands inside him. Of being stretched to something beyond human, beyond language, beyond even pleasure--into pure sensation.

He thrashed, head tossing side to side, the rest of his body too locked in tension to move. She held still, letting him feel the weight and breadth and heat of it, letting his body memorize what it meant to be this utterly possessed.

And then--slowly--she moved again.

Not thrusting. Not stroking. Just flexing. Twisting. Pressing outward. Letting him feel what it meant to be completely open, held in place from the inside out.

She looked up at him, his face flushed and wild, tears streaking his cheeks, lips parted in something close to a sob.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," she said, and meant it.

And she moved again--slow, controlled, unrelenting.

Stretching him further. Keeping him there. Showing him just how much he could take.

Anna stayed right there--buried to the wrists in his slick, fluttering cunt--watching every twitch, every tremor, every collapse and shudder of his body beneath her. Wolf was sweating, chest heaving, moans spilling loose like they no longer belonged to him.

Her fingers worked subtly inside him, not pulling out, not pushing deeper, just shaping him from the inside. Palms widening. Knuckles tilting. The stretch steady and merciless, designed not to hurt but to overwhelm. To rewrite the edges of what he thought he could hold.

"You're still opening," she whispered, awed. "Even now."

His head lolled to the side, eyes glazed, lips parted. "I can't," he breathed, but his cunt clenched down around her like a heartbeat, like a yes.

"You are," she corrected gently, tongue sliding over his clit again--just enough to remind him who he belonged to, who had him like this.

He sobbed, the sound dissolving into a gasp as her hands twisted slightly inside him again. The pressure moved in waves, spreading him open, tugging at muscles deep and trembling. He could feel his body stretching around her, the ache so sharp it almost turned sweet.

"Every time you say 'can't,'" she said, voice molten silk, "your body proves you wrong and stretches further."

He moaned--wrecked--thighs trembling, stomach twitching. "Please," he whispered.

"What do you need, pretty thing?"

"I don't know," he said helplessly. "I don't know--I just--fuck--Anna--"

Her mouth was on him before he could finish. A kiss to the inside of his knee. His belly. The tip of his cock. Not frantic, not greedy--worshipful. Like he was sacred. Like this--his body stretched around her hands, trembling, ruined--was the holiest thing she'd ever touched.

"You're perfect," she whispered into the slick skin of his thigh. "You're exactly where I want you."

And then--just a little more.

She shifted her weight, tilted her wrists inside him. One hand pressed up, the other out. Not deep. Just wide. It felt like blooming, like splitting open at the seams, like the impossible made real.

His whole body spasmed.

His voice broke on a scream that turned into a moan halfway through, legs shaking, the sheets beneath him soaked and twisted in his fists. His cock jumped, untouched, leaking hard against his belly. His cunt pulsed violently around her, clenching down like it didn't want to let her go.

Anna groaned, head bowed against his thigh, sweat dotting her brow. "You take it, you take whatever I give you" she whispered, overcome. "You were made for this."

And still--her hands moved. Not fast. Not hard. Just enough to keep him there, stretched and split and filled beyond belief, holding the edge like a crucible.

Right there. Right on the brink. Exactly where he belonged.

Anna stayed buried inside him for a long breath, her forehead resting against the hollow of his thigh, just feeling the way he fluttered and pulsed around her, like his body was trying to learn the shape of her hands. Wolf was trembling, boneless and gasping, caught in some edge-space between pain and pleasure, between too much and not enough.

Then--slowly, purposefully--she began to move.

Her wrists angled outward, easing apart, not to slide in deeper, but to spread him open. She pressed against the slick heat of his inner walls, coaxing them wider, inch by inch, watching the way his body strained to take it.

Wolf cried out, high and sharp, as the pressure returned, this time focused entirely on his entrance--on stretching it, working it. He felt every nerve ending light up like fire, and still, she didn't stop.

"F-fuck--Anna--" His voice cracked as his body tried to clamp down and give in at the same time. "You're--it's--too much--"

"No," she said softly, almost sweet. "Just enough."

Her hands moved again, slow and deliberate. One wrist tilted slightly outward, the heel of her palm applying steady pressure against the inner rim of his cunt, opening him a fraction wider. Her fingers flexed deep inside, coaxing muscle to give way. Her other hand followed, mirroring the movement in perfect, breathless rhythm.

Wolf thrashed, sweat-slicked and flushed, torn between resistance and surrender. His eyes squeezed shut, mouth parted as moans slipped from him in broken, helpless sound.

"Feel that?" she murmured. "How much more space there is now? How easy you take it?"

His only answer was a sob, but she saw the way his hips lifted, the way his body arched--how even in protest, he leaned toward her.

Anna smiled.

She eased her wrists closer together again, then apart, slowly working his hole like clay, shaping it, sculpting it. Spreading him. Training him.

"You're going to take both," she whispered, voice low and reverent, like a promise. "You're going to feel me so deep you forget where I end."

Wolf gasped, shaking his head, but she just kissed his hipbone again and pressed back in, just a little more.

"I've got you," she said. "Breathe through it."

Her fingers curled inside him again, and she began to rock--not fast, not deep, but wide. A gentle, unrelenting pressure. A rhythm that said: open more. A motion that made him feel like he was being pulled inside out in the best possible way.

Every sound he made was pure surrender. Every trembling muscle said: yes, yes, yes.

And Anna?

Anna just smiled, slow and hungry, as she worked him open around both of her hands.

Her hands worked with slow precision, stretching and filling, easing his cunt wider with every careful motion. Wolf could feel it in his spine, in the back of his throat--a deep, relentless pressure that started to shift, to melt into something else.

Something hotter.

The pain didn't vanish. It folded into the pleasure, into the way his body adapted, adjusted, opened. Anna moved with purpose, her hands tilting, spreading, withdrawing just a little only to press deeper again. And somewhere in that rhythm, Wolf started to move with her.

It was subtle at first--a tilt of his hips, a twitch of his thighs. Then stronger. He was bearing down when she pushed in, lifting when she spread him, chasing the pressure like he needed it more than breath.

A moan tore from his chest, loud and ragged, and still he moved.

Anna felt it immediately. She glanced up, lips parted, eyes sharp with satisfaction. "There you are," she breathed, curling her fingers just so. "Good boy."

Wolf sobbed, but nodded, riding the wave.

The pleasure was building now--sharp and molten, gathering low in his belly. Every thrust of her hand pushed against something deep, electric. Every stretch sent sparks through his legs.

He bucked harder, breath catching on every inhale, chasing the burn with raw, unashamed need.

Anna leaned forward again, licking the sweat from his stomach, letting her lips brush against his skin as she spoke. "You're taking me so well. Stretching open like you were made for it."

His moans turned desperate.

"Almost there," she whispered, curling her wrists again, spreading just a little wider.

Wolf arched off the bed, crying out, riding her in earnest now. Not mindless--present. Utterly in his body, in every nerve, every pulse of wet heat. The pleasure was building faster than he could handle, dragging him toward something too deep to name.

And Anna--calm, focused, relentless--was leading him there.

Need took him like a tide.

With a cry that cracked open from his chest, Wolf surged forward--grabbing Anna by the wrists, keeping her hands inside him as he moved. She let him, breath hitching in surprise and awe as he pushed her gently back onto the pillows, straddling her thighs with trembling legs.

He groaned--loud--his whole body shaking as he rocked down on her fists, his pussy swallowing her deeper with every greedy thrust. His mouth crashed into hers, messy and wild, their teeth clashing as he moaned into her lips, never stopping the roll of his hips.

Obscene, wet sounds echoed in the room--his cunt slurping around her, desperate and slick, every movement a squelch of heat and hunger.

One hand stayed tight around her wrist, anchoring her inside him. The other slid up to her throat--not choking, just claiming--his thumb brushing her pulse, his eyes wild with sensation as he kissed her again, open-mouthed and desperate.

Then his free hand slid down, found his clit, and started rubbing with frantic, practiced pressure.

"Watch me," he gasped, voice broken and breathless. "Watch my fucking cock."

Anna's eyes dropped immediately--just in time to see the way he fucked himself on her fists, his slick folds stretched wide, glistening, twitching around her with every grind. His clit was flushed and swollen under his fingers, and the sight of it--of him--was fucking transcendent.

"I'm gonna come," he moaned, hand working faster. "Gonna come with you inside me, watching. Look at it--look at my cock--"

His voice cracked as the orgasm hit--sudden, brutal, blinding.

He screamed, loud and long, hips slamming down hard as his cunt clamped around her, spasming violently. Slick gushed from him in waves, dripping down her wrists, soaking the sheets. He shook with it, mouth open in a wordless cry, hips still grinding even as his legs gave out beneath him.

Anna held him through it, hands still buried deep, her eyes never leaving the trembling mess of his body.

"Fuck," she whispered. "That was..."

But Wolf just collapsed onto her chest, panting, whimpering, skin flushed and shining with sweat.

He didn't need words. His body said everything.

Wolf's head lay on her chest, his breath ragged against her skin. His hair clung damp to his forehead, body slack with release, but still trembling faintly. Anna didn't move--her hands remained buried inside him, warm and still, cradled by the deep pulse of his body.

Minutes passed in silence, just the sound of their breathing, the throb of their hearts. Her fingers twitched now and then, subtle, grounding. She kissed his crown once, then again, her cheek pressed to his temple.

And then--a sound.

Soft, involuntary.

A moan.

Wolf's hips gave a little twitch, almost startled, and another breathy moan slipped from his lips.

He shifted slightly, not up or away--but down. Pressing more firmly around her. Grinding, just barely. His walls fluttered, slick and greedy, as if his body couldn't stop wanting, even now. His breath caught again, and this time the moan was unmistakable--need, curling slow and low from his throat.

Anna smiled.

Still not moving, she flexed her fingers slightly inside him, just enough to remind him she was there. Her thumbs grazed places deep inside that made him gasp. He clutched at her waist, burying his face into the curve of her chest, panting softly, hips moving in slow, helpless circles.

"I can feel it," she murmured, voice thick and quiet. "You're not done."

He whimpered, still rocking gently on her hands.

She stroked him again from the inside, slow and sure, and his whole body shuddered.

Wolf whimpered again, and Anna felt the sound travel through her skin where his cheek rested against her chest. It was so soft it could've been a sigh--except for the way his hips kept circling, gently grinding himself down around her hand. His body had stilled for a while, but now it was restless again, flushed and fluttering around her, like it had never stopped needing.

She didn't thrust. Didn't even flex--just kept her hands warm and still inside him, letting him move, letting him ask without words.

His arms curled tighter around her ribs. His face nuzzled higher, brushing against her collarbone, lips parted. She felt the ghost of a kiss there, barely-there, breathy and searching.

"I feel it," he whispered, finally, like a confession.

Anna turned her head and kissed his hair. "Feel what?"

"Still open," he murmured, dazed. "Still aching."

Her heart pulsed slow and deep behind her ribs. Her hands still cradled inside him like a secret. "Of course you are," she said softly. "You don't close that easily. Not after something like that."

He shivered and pulled himself closer. His chest pressed to hers, heartbeat fluttering. His hips rocked again, still so slow, and she felt the drag of his slick warmth, the way his body hugged her, clutched her.

"I don't want it to stop," he breathed, a moan caught in his throat. "Don't take your hands out yet."

"I won't," she promised, kissing the edge of his jaw. "You're still opening, sweetheart. Let it happen."

She could feel him relaxing again, deeper than before--yielding. The muscles in his belly quivered, and she adjusted her wrists minutely, not to push or stretch but just to feel--to hold the shape of him from the inside.

"I can feel you still pulsing," she whispered. "Still fluttering around me. You're so wet, baby. So soft. Still dripping for me."

He made a sound that didn't have a name--somewhere between a sob and a moan--and gently rocked again, his hips tilting, thighs spreading wider. His whole body was loose, raw, receptive, his skin flushed everywhere. She could feel his cock where it hung against her belly, twitching faintly, caught between them.

She smiled, kissing the top of his head again. "You're doing so good."

He nuzzled her again, mumbling something too soft to catch.

"What was that?" she asked, running a hand through his hair.

"... don't make me come yet," he whispered.

Anna went still, warmth curling in her chest.

"Oh, love," she murmured, "I'm not going to make you come."

Her hands shifted just slightly inside him, a subtle suggestion of movement--just enough for his breath to catch. Her voice dropped, velvet and deep.

"I'm going to hold you until you can't help it."

Wolf whimpered again--this time longer, like it came from somewhere deep and unguarded. He was still moving in those slow, aching circles, not even thrusting, just pressing down against her--searching for friction, for pressure, for relief he didn't quite want yet.

Anna kept her hands still. Cradling. Sheltering. Inside him like a promise.

She felt every twitch of him, every flutter, the liquid heat that clung to her skin. His pussy was soaked, still rippling, still stretching around her like it couldn't bear to let her go.

He buried his face in her neck, lips parted, warm breath shivering against her skin.

"You're still taking me," she whispered. "Still pulling me in."

He moaned like it hurt--like it was too much--and yet he didn't stop.

Her voice stayed soft, careful. "Does it feel good, sweetheart?"

He nodded against her neck, barely able to form the word. "Yeah..."

"Tell me how."

His hips shifted again, slow and greedy. "Feels like... you're holding everything together inside me. Like if you left I'd just..."

He didn't finish.

Anna's throat tightened, a flush creeping into her chest. She kissed his temple, her breath shaky now too. "Then I won't leave," she said, low and sure.

She let her fingers flutter just slightly--tiny movements inside him, nothing harsh, just... presence. He gasped softly, and his cunt squeezed around her hands in response, reflexive and wet.

"I can feel how open you are," she murmured, her voice all honey and dusk. "So warm. So stretched. Every inch of you is begging."

Wolf whined--long and soft--and his cock gave a helpless throb between their bellies, smearing a little more slick across her skin.

Anna reached down with her free hand and cradled his cheek, guiding his face to hers. "Look at me."

He lifted his eyes--glazed, red-rimmed, lips kiss-bruised.

"Stay open for me," she whispered. "Let me watch you fall apart slow."

His mouth parted again but no words came. Only a moan, a trembling sound from the core of him.

And then--so gently--she began to flex her fingers again inside him, just enough to stroke where he needed it most. Deep and low, curling upward. Her thumb grazed over his clit again, slow and rhythmic.

His hips bucked once, surprised by the return of that spark--but she steadied him with a hand to his waist.

"Not too fast," she said softly. "Let it build."

He swallowed hard, moaning into her shoulder.

The air between them thickened, breath hot, bodies slick. His pussy gripped her with every heartbeat, dripping anew, and she felt the trembling of his thighs as he tried to ride the edge without tumbling over.

But it was coming again--need, thick and molten, rising in waves.

Anna felt the change the moment it happened. The way his hips started to roll with more insistence, the way his whimpers pitched up--not pain, not yet pleasure, but the frantic ache of need. Of being right there, trembling on the knife's edge.

Her hands stayed exactly where they were, nestled deep, not moving.

But he was.

Wolf began to shift his weight, slowly pressing down--not the shallow grind he'd been doing, but a deeper, hungrier push. His whole body trembled as he took her in again, inch by inch, hips lowering with agonizing care.

Anna's breath caught. She felt him swallow her hands all over again, cunt stretching wider, gripping her with that greedy, fluttering rhythm that made her ache to touch herself.

"Anna..." he moaned, voice thick and low against her neck.

She looked at him tenderly. "I'm here, baby."

His face turned, pressing into her palm like he needed the contact, like it helped him stay tethered.

"I want it deeper," he whispered, barely audible. Then again, more desperate, like it slipped out without his permission: "Please... I want it deeper..."

And then he pushed.

His hips sank down with a soft, broken cry, grinding her hands deeper inside his pulsing, soaked heat. He clenched around her so hard it almost knocked the air out of her--but then he did it again. And again. Riding her wrists with slow, deliberate thrusts, working himself down inch by inch, like he was trying to bury her all the way to his core.

Anna exhaled shakily, completely still beneath him, letting him use her. Letting him fill himself.

"Look at you," she whispered. "Fucking yourself open for me."

He moaned helplessly, his clit jerking between them, twitching against her stomach.

"So deep already," she murmured. "And you still want more?"

His nod was frantic now. His mouth hung open, breath ragged, and he whimpered again as his pussy pulsed around her, soaking and slick, so stretched she could feel the fine tremors in every muscle.

But still, she didn't move her hands inside him. Not yet. Not until he was begging.

"Let me see how deep you can take me," she said, voice like a lullaby. "Show me what you were made for."

And Wolf, desperate and undone, kept pushing--chasing that impossible fullness, his whole body on fire, still hovering in that exquisite space before the fall.

Wolf's head stayed pressed to her chest, cheek damp with sweat, lips parted around shallow breaths. His whole body trembled with it--need, surrender, the slow ache of being filled and wanting more.

Anna let him hold himself there, impaled on her wrists, his hips twitching now and then, trying to sink impossibly deeper.

"You feel it?" she whispered, brushing his damp hair back. "How full you are?"

He whimpered softly in response, nodding against her skin, every breath a shaky exhale.

"You're perfect like this," she murmured. "So soft around me, so greedy."

Her words made his clit jerk where it pressed against her belly, wet and flushed. He hadn't moved in a minute--but every muscle in him was taut with restraint.

She curled her fingers gently inside him, just enough for him to feel it.

He gasped, and his hips bucked instinctively.

"Shh," she soothed, kissing the top of his head. "Not yet. I want you to ask."

He moaned, throat thick. "Anna..."

"Mm?"

"I need--fuck--need it."

"Need what?"

His whole body jerked when her fingers moved again--slow, controlled, circling just enough to wake every nerve.

"Say it," she coaxed.

His voice cracked. "Need you to move--please--need you to fuck me."

"There she is," Anna purred, voice thick with pride. "My good boy."

Wolf made a raw, needy sound at that, grinding his hips down with a long, aching push.

She moved.

Her hands shifted inside him--gently, purposefully--fingers twisting, curling, stroking the trembling walls of his cunt. And this time, he didn't just gasp--he screamed.

His hips moved with her, chasing each wave, working himself open with every grind.

"You're so close," she whispered. "I can feel it. Feel you sucking me in."

He moaned uncontrollably, almost sobbing. "Please--please--I want to come, please let me--"

"Not yet."

She stilled her hands again. He cried out in frustration, body shaking, the pressure unbearable.

"Look at your cock," she murmured, voice low and dark.

His eyes fluttered open, dazed.

"Touch yourself. Show me how hard you are."

He whimpered but obeyed, hand sliding down between their slick bodies to reach his clit. His fingers moved in shaky strokes, hips still working against her wrist as her hand filled him completely.

"Good boy," she said, watching him unravel.

"Fuck--fuck, Anna--" He moaned louder, stroking faster, his movements wild now, hungry.

"Come for me," she said, curling her fingers deep. "Show me how pretty you look when you come with your cunt wide open."

His whole body seized. He sobbed out a moan, hips jerking forward, cock pulsing hard in his hand.

And then--he came.

It hit like a wave breaking. Cum spilled hot and fast over his fingers and her stomach, thick and messy and desperate. His moans turned into near-screams, body bucking wildly as his cunt clenched around her hands in rhythmic spasms.

He didn't stop moving.

He rode it out like he was drowning in it, lips locked to hers in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue and gasping breath, his hands still shaking around her.

When the shudders finally faded, he collapsed on top of her with a ragged groan, cock softening, her hands still buried deep inside his pulsing cunt.

Gently she whispered praise into his hair.

He made a weak, satisfied sound in reply.

But after a few minutes--when the fog began to clear--soft moans started escaping him again. His hips shifted slightly, just a little. Then again. A soft whine in his throat.

Still hungry.

Still open.

Still hers.