She Fucked the Macho Right Out of Me

How the Night Started

I still remember the night it all started like it was yesterday.

My girlfriend Lena had this wicked little smile when she pulled that thick black silicone cock from the bottom drawer. We’d been together two years, fucked in every position you can imagine, choked each other, spanked until our asses glowed red… but this was something else entirely.

She held it up like a trophy, the harness swinging from her fingers, and said, “Baby, tonight I’m going to fuck you. Hard. I want to feel you shake around my dick.”

I laughed at first. Thought she was joking. I’m six-foot-two, built like I live in the gym, tattoos down both arms—the kind of guy everyone assumes tops everything that moves. But the way she looked at me, those dark eyes burning holes straight through me, my cock was already leaking in my boxers. Something deep and primal flipped inside me. I wanted it. I wanted her to take me, own me, split me open like I’d never let anyone do before.

We started slow because she’s not a complete monster (at least not that first night). She put me on my back, threw my legs over her shoulders the same way I usually fold her in half, and ate my ass like it was her last meal on earth. Tongue pushing deep, wet and filthy, fingers curling inside me until I was moaning like a desperate whore, grinding back against her face, begging without shame.

By the time she worked the first plug in, I was so relaxed I barely felt the stretch—just full. So fucking full.

She opened me up with three different sizes that night, whispering the dirtiest shit the whole time. “Look at you, big tough guy, opening up so pretty for me. You’re going to take my cock like you were born for it.” Every time I whimpered she’d laugh low in her throat and twist the plug just right, making my vision go white.

When she finally strapped on the real thing—seven thick inches, curved perfectly to murder my prostate—I was shaking like a leaf. She stroked lube all over it right in front of my face, jerking her cock like it was flesh and blood. Then she crawled between my thighs, pushed my knees to my chest, and locked eyes with me.

“Tell me you want it.”

I couldn’t even speak properly. Just nodded, mouth hanging open, drooling on myself like an animal.

“Say it, baby. Tell me you want your girlfriend’s dick buried in your ass.”

“Please, Lena… fuck me. I need it. I need your cock inside me.”

She didn’t ease in. One long, slick thrust and she bottomed out, the base of the harness grinding against me. The noise that ripped out of my throat wasn’t human. My back arched off the bed so hard I nearly threw her off. She just held there, letting me feel every single inch, letting me understand I was completely, utterly owned.

Then she started moving.

Not gentle. Not sweet. She fucked me like she hated me and loved me in the same breath. Long, punishing strokes that dragged over my prostate until actual tears rolled down into my hair. My cock was trapped between us, leaking a constant river of precum, slapping wetly against my stomach with every slam of her hips. She wrapped her hand around my throat, squeezed just right, and growled, “This what you wanted, huh? Your girl balls-deep in your greedy little hole?”

I couldn’t answer. Just babbled—yes, fuck, more, harder, please.

At some point she flipped me over, shoved my face into the pillows, yanked my hips up until I was presenting like a bitch in heat. Grabbed me hard enough to leave bruises and pounded me until the headboard was destroying the wall. I came without touching myself, screaming into the mattress, cock spurting thick ropes all over the sheets while she kept fucking me through it, laughing at how my hole clenched around her like it never wanted to let go.

That was only the first time.

After that night it became our dirty little religion. Some days she makes me wear a plug under my jeans at work, sending me photos of the bigger toys she’s “warming up” for later. I sit in meetings trying not to squirm, knowing the second I walk through the door she’ll bend me over the couch and ruin me.

One time she tied me spread-eagle to the bed, blindfolded me, and left me there for an hour—hard, leaking, clenching around nothing. When she came back she didn’t say a word. Just climbed on and fucked me raw. No warm-up. I screamed into the gag, came twice before she was done, and when she finally pulled out my hole was gaping, sore, dripping her lube down my thighs. She took a photo. I still jerk off to it when she’s away.

Then there was the night she made me ride her like a desperate slut. She leaned back against the headboard like a queen, strap-on standing proud, and told me to earn it. I had to finger myself open—three fingers, then four—while she watched and slowly stroked her cock. When I finally sank down, inch by torturous inch, she smirked and said, “That’s it, baby. Fuck yourself on my dick. Show me how bad you need it.”

I rode her until my thighs were on fire, until sweat poured off me, until I was sobbing from overstimulation and still couldn’t stop bouncing. She just watched, occasionally slapping my ass or twisting my nipples until I sped up like a good boy. When I came that time it hurt so good my soul left my body through my cock.

We’ve gotten filthy in public too. Remote plug at fancy restaurants, her thumb on the app while I try to order dessert without moaning. Once in a club bathroom she bent me over the sink, yanked my jeans just low enough, and fucked me quick and brutal while people banged on the door. I came so hard I saw stars and walked out with lube still dripping down my legs.

The absolute dirtiest night? She invited her friend Sasha to watch.

Tiny goth girl with a cruel mouth and crueler smile. Lena made me strip, get on my knees, and suck her strap-on clean while Sasha sipped wine in the armchair. “He’s prettier than I expected,” Sasha said. “Bet he takes it like a champion.”

I did.

Lena fucked me on the living room rug, doggy style, while Sasha directed like it was her personal porn shoot. “Pull his hair… make him arch… look at that greedy hole swallowing every inch.” When Lena made me clean her cock straight from my ass afterward, Sasha laughed and called me a good boy. I came hands-free again. Pretty sure I blacked out for a second.

It’s not always brutal. Some nights she’s slow, almost tender—fucks me on my side, kissing my neck, whispering that I’m her perfect little slut, that no one else will ever have this part of me. Those nights wreck me worse than the rough ones. I cry for real, cling to her, beg her not to stop even when I’m so overstimulated it hurts.

I’m completely addicted now. Can’t cum properly unless something’s in my ass. She’ll be sucking me off like a goddess and I’ll still reach back and shove my own fingers inside just to feel full. She loves it. Calls me her cockslut like that’s my government name.

Last week she brought home a new monster—nine inches, thick as my wrist. I stared at it like it was going to kill me. She just grinned and said, “Better start stretching, baby. You’re taking every inch by the weekend.”

Right now I’m sitting here with four fingers buried in my ass and that fist-sized plug waiting on the nightstand.

I used to think I was the dominant one in this relationship.

Turns out I just needed the right woman to show me where I really belong:

On my back, legs spread wide, begging for her cock like the greedy little slut I am.