The Back Door

Brian and I have been in an open relationship for about a month. We have great chemistry, and we don’t have to mess with the whole commitment thing. He’s a charmer on the streets, but a freak in the sheets. The ideal man for me, well almost.

One night, his giant cock started knocking on my back door. I’m no stranger to a good butt fuck, but I was a little nervous since Brian’s dick was so monstrous. I literally couldn’t fit the tip of his penis in my mouth, so how in the world was anal sex going to feel? I was afraid the girth of his dick would stretch me out. I wasn’t sure yet if I was ready to wear Depends the rest of my life.

Always up for a challenge, I decided to open the back door. Slowly, I started working my ass up and down on his giant cock. I let him in a little at a time, until I finally decided to let him in all the way. It was (surprisingly) the best and easiest anal sex I’ve ever had. His cock and my ass fit together like a weiner in a corndog.

So the next night I went out with a different guy to a popular bar in Santa Monica. We sat down and ordered drinks. All of a sudden, I see Brian waving at me like a giant idiot across the bar. Can’t he see I’m with someone? I thought. It must’ve been embarrassing for him, since his friends were with him and they all know who I was. Apparently, he was like a dog taking a piss on a tree... he wanted to mark his territory. Well, I’ll be damned to let that happen. My vagina (and my ass) only have loyalties to me.

I tried to ignore him, but it was a little hard with Brian staring at me from across the room (not that I could blame him, my tits looked amazing in my tight, black dress).

My date definitely noticed Brian, but we didn’t talk about it. I didn’t exactly tell him that the goober waving at me across the bar gave me the best anal of my life last night and that’s the reason why I’ve been walking funny all night.

When Brian finally left, he texted me and said, “You looked beautiful tonight.” A good sign, I thought. He apparently wasn’t too bothered that he’d seen me out with another guy. Normally the man is the one in the open-relationship to take advantage of the “open” end of the deal, but not me. I was always going out, fishing for other cocks in the sea.

I decided not to take my date home that night. Not that I didn’t want to, I just needed to fully recover from the damage Brian’s meat popsicle had done to me.

The next morning, I woke to a text from Brian. “So did you tell your date about me?”

Shit, I thought. So much for dodging the jealousy bullet. “No, Brian. I didn’t,” I responded.

Brian: “He kept looking at me.”

Me: “That’s probably because you were staring at us the whole night and waving like a moron.”

Brian: “Not really.”

Me: “Besides my date had better things to look at.”

Brian: “Did you tell him that I was in your ass last night? Did you let him butt fuck you?”

Since when does Brian get a say in what I do with my ass? I had a feeling that if I told him that we’d had a normal fucking session he wouldn’t have cared, but he didn’t want anyone else slipping through my back door. Brian needed to learn that my asshole wasn’t his and who was in control here.

“What I do with my asshole is really none of your business.” I responded back. My butt hole doesn’t fuck and tell to my lovers, only to my blog readers.


- Sienna Sinclaire® - The Single Girl®: Your Naughty Lifestyle Guide