She had just finished the perfect application of her deep red lipstick when she felt a flutter in her stomach. Difficult to pin down but it felt like a mixture of nerves, anticipation, a slight fear of the unknown and delight all at once.

They had been talking the previous evening about different sexual experiences, what they had and hadn’t tried and what they had always been curious about. The subject of anal came up. Immediately she baulked and started dismissing it as something she would never do again.

“Tried that once, never again. It hurt so much and I can’t see how that could ever be enjoyable. No!”

“Did he know what he was doing?” came the reply.

“I guess so, he just went in as he normally would,” she said with a shudder.

“Then he had absolutely no idea what he was doing!” he exclaimed.

“There’s an art to it. Anal can be the most pleasurable experience you have ever had, but it’s got to be done right. Get it wrong and you just cause pain. Get it right though and you’ll become addicted. Seriously. It’s that good!”

“Hmm, I’m not convinced,” she replied, rebuffing him.

He looked deep into her eyes. There was seriousness to his gaze along with a stark honesty.

“Trust me,” he said to her very softly and very calmly.

She loved it when he took that tone with her. Dominant, yet reassuring and safe all at once. It was the same voice he used when he was taking charge of their sessions. Dulcet in delivery, with a silky velvet husk, underpinned by a forcefulness that stirred a carnal need in her. He had the ability to seduce her instantly with just a single word. She felt a tingle between her legs and her chest flushed as she adjusted her position. The familiar sensation of secretion escaped her between her thighs.

Caressing her hip in reassurance, they never once broke eye contact. She felt wetness between her legs that had become almost an expectation whenever they were alone together.

She paused for a few minutes in contemplation. Having already been through a bad experience with anal before, the last thing she wanted was to repeat it. But she trusted him. She trusted him implicitly and knew that their explorations together so far had been nothing short of mind blowing.

“I can’t even begin to imagine how that could ever be pleasurable,” she continued.

“I mean I’ve thought about it and often wondered why people seem to like it so much but trying it was just a terrible experience, I felt on fire and not in a good way.”

“The last thing I want to do is pressure you into something you have reservations about. This kind of thing takes time, patience and expertise. If done properly it will become the most addicting sensation you have ever experienced. I learned the hard way that if the preparations and technique are wrong then it ends in disaster.”

He looked at her intently and continued.

“My ex and I were really interested in learning how to do it properly. We would spend countless nights trying out different positions, reading about it, buying toys and aids, the works. By the end it was such a regular part of our sex life that it became normal. Long gone was the pain and discomfort. We trained her body to accept the intrusion and mastered it down to a fine art.”

He spoke with a confidence that she found riveting. The words coming out of his mouth could have been gospel she trusted in him that much. She knew he was far more sexually experienced than her and with that came a pleasantness of emotion that soothed her. Knowing beyond all reasonable doubt that he knew precisely what he was doing. Hell, the last few months had been a whirlwind of sexual exploration. He had unleashed a primal hunger in her that she knew existed but never knew how to unlock. Steadying her resolve, she took a deep breath and looked into his eyes.

“Ok,” she nervously replied. “I trust you.”

“Good girl,” he said with a grin.

“I’ll pick up what we need in the morning.”

The rest of the evening passed with no further mention of what they had discussed. In her mind she recalled her previous bad experience and felt uneasy. The thought of that incompetent, inexperienced cock banging recklessly into her backside, causing her nothing but agony, chilled her to the core.

She wasn’t at all convinced if she could enjoy it and the thought of the physical act didn’t fill her with joy either. She rationalised it to herself in the most simplest of terms. Babies come from vaginas, penises make babies, and penises go in vaginas. Nothing good comes from arseholes, penises have no place there.

“Stop it girl!” she said internally.

“Your body also creates pleasure and pleasure comes in many forms. Don’t be so basic!” She scolded, having a full blown argument with herself in her head.

“You trust him and you know firsthand the pleasure he can give you. He knows what he’s doing.”

This was getting silly. Her internal monologue had become chaotic.

“Just remember when he showed how good a squirting orgasm could be. You thought then that you were just peeing on him but oh how wrong you were! This is no different.”

Breathing deeply she steadied herself. Tired of the argument in her head she dismissed the voices and focussed on him. She glanced over his body, taking in his fully tattooed arms, each picture telling a story. He had serenity to him that she was entranced by. While her head was gripped with uncertainty and madness, he seemed perfectly peaceful and wonderfully self-assured without ever appearing arrogant. It was his best quality. A quality that made her ravenous for him.

She still had reservations but regardless, her trust in him superseded her doubt. She knew beyond all the uncertainty that he knew what he was doing and the anticipation of fully experiencing new sensations soon came to the fore. They enjoyed the rest of the evening together before retiring to bed.

That night he took her into his arms and held her tightly. Reassuring her once more in his embrace. She kissed him and be entered her. Nothing extravagant, just simple, pleasurable, gratifying sex. They slept happily and content next to one another.

She awoke the next morning to find him gone save for a note on her dresser.

‘Beautiful Violet,

I know you’re uneasy but I will guide you. Follow my instructions to the letter and your doubts will be replaced with an intensity of sensation you will remember for a long time.

I will be back this evening which gives you plenty of time to prepare.

1- Open a bottle of red and enjoy. The more relaxed you are, the more you will enjoy it. Don’t eat.

2- Pamper yourself. Take a long, hot bath. Cleanse yourself inside and out.

3- Dress for the occasion. Lace underwear, dark smoky eyes, and deep red lips. Become my goddess.

4- Relax. I promise you nothing but pleasure.

Love always

X.’

She did as she was asked. Opening a bottle of red she sipped and sipped until the glass was empty.

“Must be nerves,” she assured herself. Pouring a second she slowly enjoyed its sensuous taste as her body began to relax. Making her way to the bathroom she turned on the taps and started to fill the tub.

An hour passed and the bottle was nearly empty. She had done what he asked and had cleansed her body completely.

While bathing she slid a hand down between her legs and cupped her intimacy. The firmness of pressure on her delicate areas made her feel secure. A finger lightly massaged her clit and she began to stir. Masturbation in the tub relaxed her like nothing else. Never quite enough to achieve orgasm, but just the sensation of touching herself calmed her immensely.

With her hand between her legs, her mind turned to thoughts of what the night would bring. Inquisitively, her digits roamed down, circling her opening and continuing south.

Reaching down, she arched a leg over the side of the bath to allow greater access. The water dripped onto the tile from her toes. Her fingers curled around into her crease and she drew lines over her tightest of holes. She felt its puckered form and pressed ever so gently on the surface. It felt sensitive in a way her pussy didn’t. It felt naughty and forbidden. Her finger pressed at the entrance a few times, each touch applying slightly more pressure and allowing water to creep inside.

She had naturally washed herself down there more times than she remembered, including just a few moments ago. There was nothing sexual in that act. It was purely functional.

This time however, she was touching herself erotically. Charged with thoughts of how her man would feel when he entered her, she closed her eyes and applied more pressure to her hole. It felt nice. Slightly unnatural, but certainly not an unpleasant feeling.

A few moments had passed and she snapped out of her daydream, realising he would be home soon. She restrained herself from proceeding too far with her self-exploration, wanting her first pleasurable backdoor experience to be with him.

Knowing full well it was a deep seated fetish of his. She wanted it to be a moment she savoured and shared rather than secretly enjoying by herself.

Stepping out of the bath she wrapped in a luxurious towel and made her way to the bedroom. All the while her mind was racing with scenarios and thoughts of what the evening would bring her.

Would she be subjected to the same pain and discomfort she had endured during her last foray into anal sex? She couldn’t quash the doubts that this evening was going to end badly.

However, the little adventure she had just had with her finger gave her cause for optimism. Again reassuring herself that she trusted him, she sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the mirror on the dresser.

Her mind cast back to when he had first proposed rope bondage to her. The nerves she felt during the build up to that evening were on par with what she was going through now.

She had doubted whether she would enjoy being bound so completely and she was nervous that she would somehow do something wrong.

Come the end of that evening, she remembered how her body had been wracked with multiple orgasms and she was left with a satisfaction that she had never before felt. She ended up bound, exposed and in full submission to him as he mercilessly fucked her in front of the very same mirror. She recalled watching her form tightly wound in rope as he took her from behind and insisted she not take her eye of the sight in the reflection.

“Mmmmm,” she muttered under her breath. Her nipples hardened as she relived the sensation while staring at her reflection.

Next came her lingerie.

She loved nothing more than dressing up for him. The look on his face when she presented herself to him, resplendent in all her feminine glory, sent warm ripples through her body. He adored her and she knew it. His eyes were always full of the most intimate lust when he saw her dressed up for him and she knew by his gaze that he was mentally fucking her before they had even touched. It was so empowering and deeply erotic.

So much so that she regularly masturbated thinking of nothing but that look whenever she was alone.

“Black lace French knickers and matching lace bra…perfect,” she said to herself with an air of self-satisfaction.

A classicist at heart, her idols were Bettie Page and the pin up girls of days gone by. They had created the epitome of sensuality with simple lingerie ensembles which remained timeless. Goddesses of a bygone era, she loved to emulate their flawless look and revelled in the self-empowerment it gave her.

Once adorned in her underwear, she sat back down on the bed and began to sheathe her legs in nylon. Classic stockings in opaque black, topped with intricate lace. Bunching the hosiery in her hand she slowly unfurled it up her shapely leg, adjusting the lace adornment to sit perfectly midway up her thigh.

Just one final piece. For her birthday he had bought her a pair of Louboutin heels. Jet black with a shimmer and the trademark red under sole. She slid her feet into the heels and wriggled them to a snug fit.

On their first date she wore a pair very similar. Not quite the designer pair she had on now but a good imitation. She couldn’t help but notice that his eyes barely left them. Whenever they stood or walked, his eyes transfixed on her heels.

Taking note she wore them twice more on their subsequent dates, though never brought up his fixation with them. When she decided to invite him in after their third date, she walked him upstairs to the bedroom, deliberately stepping ahead of him so he could follow her heeled feet up the steps.

When they arrived at her bedroom, she dropped her dress to reveal the same classic lingerie set she was currently sporting. His mouth dropped agape and his excitement was prominently visible through his jeans.

As they kissed and began to undress one another, she leaned into his ear and whispered in a sultry tone “I’ll keep my heels on for you.”

The sex was explosive!

He took her with such lustful intent that she was completely swept off her feet. As he lay on top of her plunging his engorged member into her for the first time she wrapped her legs around his waist and dug the heels into him. This only enraged his passion and they came together in a shared orgasm that was practically volcanic.

That morning he confessed to her his uncontrollable fetish for stilettos and the beauty of a woman’s sexuality when she dressed up.

That was where the fetish talk all started.

He bought her the designer shoes for her birthday that year and here they were now. Accentuating her femininity and simultaneously delivering his fetishistic urges to him while they indulged in yet another new experience together.

“Perfect,” she complimented to her reflection and gave herself a little wink.

She wrapped her figure away in a short, black, silk gown and moved to the smaller mirror on a vanity table to apply her makeup. This entire phase of transformation made her feel like a deity. Her eyes became dusky and alluring and her plump lips took the pigment of her lipstick. Deep crimson was her colour. It shone with lustre against her pale complexion and perfectly matched the red in her shoes.

She stood before the mirror in admiration.

“You’re a goddess,” she told herself.

Years before, he had instructed her to compliment herself in front of a mirror every single day to help build self-esteem. Struggling with her body image for as long as she could remember, this small act of self-appreciation helped her love herself in her own skin as time progressed.

Now she was dressed for the evening she felt an overwhelming sensation of power. She looked like something straight out of a fantasy. Classically presented in black with the deep red lips accentuating her femininity. Her violet hair slung low down her back completing the look and her dark eyes gave her an alluring aura of the purest sensuality.

Resplendent in all her feminine magnificence, she was prepared.

She heard the door.

Her heart skipped and the knot in her stomach gave her a rush of anticipation. Sipping her wine to quell the nerves she made a few final adjustments and went to meet him.

Standing before him enveloped in the black gown, she smiled and welcomed his return. As he turned from the closing door he stopped suddenly, mesmerized by her beauty.

The black gown fitted her figure wonderfully. The V-shaped neck hung low and deliberately loose, exposing the sumptuous mounds of her ample breasts. She had one leg slightly forward from the other so the split in the gown parted just at the top of her mid-thigh, offering a glimpse of her stocking clad leg. The heels she wore made her stand tall and she knew the effect they would instantly have.

His mouth was aghast. He slowly and ever so deliberately ran his eyes across every inch of her, trying to take it all in.

She slowly untied the gown, gently grasping the edges and opened it slowly. Her breasts were first to emerge, clad in soft, slightly padded lace. Crossing her legs and putting one heeled foot in front of the other she discarded the gown put herself on total display for him.

His jaw dropped and a gasp of breath escaped him. He poured over her voluptuous form for what seemed to be an age. Marvelling at her breasts, down her stomach and towards the inward mound of her divinity. Down her legs his eyes travelled, his penis visibly aroused and bulging in his jeans. He brought a hand up to his mouth in shock as he basked in her beauty.

“My goddess!” He exclaimed.

He quickly moved forward towards her, sliding his hands inside her gown to touch her soft skin. He pulled her body towards his and kissed her deeply.

“You look stunning my love. What did I ever do to deserve such a beautiful woman?!”

His words enriched her soul. She felt a love and a desire for him that was unparalleled.

“I’m ready for you my love, just as you asked.” She uttered. All hesitation gone from her voice.

Taking his hand, she discarded the gown, turned her back and led him upstairs. Her stomach fluttered with nerves though the feeling of trust steadied her. She knew that she was going to give herself over completely to him.

As before, she rose up the stairs first, allowing him to view her from behind. Her ass looked magnificent in the lace French knickers she had chosen. Rounded and plump, she intentionally flicked her hips slightly as she ascended to accentuate her behind and let him know that soon he was going to have it.

His eyes danced between her heeled feet and her pert ass as they climbed the stairs towards the bedroom.

They reached their destination and she stood there motionless. Not entirely knowing what she should be doing. Still feeling empowered by her appearance, she took the initiative and moved into his space. She pressed her lingerie adorned body against his and kissed him deeply, throwing her arms up around his neck.

Her nerves had morphed to passion and her body ached for his touch. She threw everything into the kiss, all of her uncertainty and anticipation came out, beyond her control. Her tongue darted into his mouth as she pressed her scantily clad form into him.

Enjoying the intimacy he held her waist and pushed her backwards.

“Slow down my love, I told you to relax.” He expressed calmly.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I’m just happy you’re home.”

“Let’s have a drink and enjoy one another tonight.” He said in that alluring voice.

Her reply was simple… “Always.” A smile breached her lips and was met by a similar retort. She felt at ease knowing he was back with her.

He removed his boots and shirt and stood there in his jeans. His cock uncomfortably enlarged and pulsing against the restraining denim.

She went over to the vanity and poured two glasses of wine.

Delivering it to him, she sat on the bed and looked up at him longingly.

“I’ve prepared myself, just as you asked.”

“So I see!” he exclaimed excitedly.

“You look magnificent.”

“I love dressing up for you, you know that.”

“You will receive my sincerest gratitude my love.” Came his response.

They sipped the wine for a few moments. She could feel her underwear soaking through already. Her excitement had reached a fervour which was becoming consuming. The aroma of her moist underwear began to pierce the air.

She knew he could smell her sweet sex. He adored her scent, he found it intoxicating.

Taking the glass from her he placed them on the vanity then proceeded to remove his jeans and underwear. His erect member sprung from its trappings, the tip excreting a droplet of pre-come indicating his intense state of arousal.

She stared at his throbbing cock and let out a hum of satisfaction.

“Excited my love?” she said playfully. “Of course. Tonight I’m going to fuck the ass of a goddess,” he forcibly replied.