Peter's Lament

"Okay, but at the least, it will hurt like hell. I mean, I haven't so much as put a finger in there in my entire lifetime."

"You had me, you entered my virgin ass," she suddenly looked serious, a little annoyed at his continued resistance.

"Yea, but you instigated that. And I didn't hurt you."

She remained silent a moment, studying him with a stony gaze, her pupils becoming narrower despite the gloom. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

"Then prove it, Peter. Let me fuck you. Let me make you a virgin no longer either."

The protest, of course, was half-hearted; Peter would have never denied her any whim, no matter how bizarre, and this certainly rivaled anything he could have ever imagined. But nonetheless, the request left him stark, left wondering about his lover and just how much more there was to Petra than he suspected. Petra had bad experiences, probably used sexually as a teenager in Georgia. He even suspected that Petra was briefly a prostitute or online sex performer in order to pay for her access out of Georgia and to America. But whatever demons colored her past very rarely haunted their relationship. And Peter wasn't sure what this characterized, whether this desire to penetrate his rear was some form of revenge much like he felt his anal experience in Petra was an exorcizing of his ex-wife's demons.

Peter rose from the bed, the dildo a centerpiece between their little pow-wow. He walked to the windowed doors to the sunroom, and gazed beyond them to the murkiness outside. Lake Anna rippled with hundreds of gentle raindrops, not enough to obscure it glassy surface, but enough to make staying on the dock unpleasant. That he would do this, there was no question. What frightened him more was that a part of Peter yearned to try this, excited him enough to cause his hole to pucker at the thought.

Petra maneuvered behind him, sliding her arms around his waist, letting her hands, her fingers, massage his belly and chest. He felt her mouth, the scent of candy and the warmth of melted butter, painting kisses on his back. Peter felt his body respond.

"Please, Peter. You were so gentle with me, and I never knew it could ever feel that way," she whispered. "Let me inside of you. It has been my ultimate fantasy, and I could only share it with you."

Peter trusted her words; no matter what she did for her passage out of Georgia, he doubted this was something that his lover experimented with. She was too strong to allow anyone to bull her into that. Besides, for Petra, this was a loving bond, Peter guessed, one that would consummate their relationship and bring them closer together.

Arm in arm, the couple went to the bathroom; Peter with a gradually hardening penis and Petra, whose gain bounced the pink dildo erect between her thighs, strapped to her hips like a horse's harness.

****

"What guarantee do I have about prosecution?"

Agent Howard looked up from his cell phone, its screen awash with some cryptic message that Peter could barely make out from his side of the table. Another agent entered the room as Peter stubbed out his fifth cigarette. For a moment, he felt guilty, musing as to how he couldn't kiss Petra when he saw her again, at least with tobacco on his breath. That reunion would probably be permanently stayed if the FBI had its way.

"Unless you're hiding something, Mr. Seymour, no one will prosecute you. I can't vouch for your employer though," Howard said.

"No, I mean for Petra."

"We catch her, she'll be prosecuted as an enemy combatant. Plain and simple."

Peter waited a moment, letting the tension build, and avoiding the steely gaze of the second agent whose red hair seemed a bit too full for the typical g-man. If this negotiation tool was going to work, then he had to lead Howard to believe that there was no way he'd be willing to cooperate.

"Trash Petra's friends all you want, but if you want the codes, then my girlfriend is immune from prosecution," Peter said.

Agent Howard shook his head, and loosened his tie. This time, the man picked up the pack of nearly empty cigarettes and lit one himself. He exhaled the first drag with a little guffaw.

"You seriously believe she was your girlfriend, Mr. Seymour?" Howard said before pulling another drag. "I mean, she left you there alone for you to deal with this shit storm, man. Left you hanging to answer questions you have no clue as to the answer. And you want to protect her?"

"I guess I'll find out for myself what really happened when I talk to her. But if you want the codes, then she goes free."

****

The warm shower water and a deep massage did little to settle Peter's jangled nerves. His ass remained trap-shut in anticipation, in fear, of the dildo's intrusion. Peter leaned against the cool fiberglass stall, his rear end jutting outward toward Petra's body. His eyes remained closed, concentrating on her hands and the mellowing water cascade. Petra stroked him with her right hand while the index finger of her left massaged his sphincter hole, gentle strokes in lazy circles around his puckered rim. For the moment, Peter was enjoying the ministrations, a creeping pleasure that ebbed and flowed from his hardening cock.

He heard the light, hollow clapping of plastic and turned to see Petra place the Vaseline lid on the shower ledge and dip three fingers into the gooey mess. A wet sucking sound emitted from the container as her fingers emerged awash in the smoky jelly. Peter closed his eyes again, summing up the courage and fortitude of the sex act.

"Relax, baby. I promise what little pain you feel will be unmatched by the pleasure I will give you," Petra whispered barely above the crashing shower stream. Her tongue snaked out and traced the edges of his ear and lobe, causing Peter to shiver. At that moment, his sphincter gaped slightly, and the tips of his lover's grease covered finger slipped by the first wall of defense.

Peter breathed in sharply as Petra, assuring him in her best seductive voice, probed deeper by the second until her index finger was buried in his rectum. Her finger burned inside of him, not overwhelmingly, but enough to cause him discomfort as she began to shift the finger in and out of his canal.

"The pain will stop in a minute," she said. "Just relax and trust me."

And sure enough, his anus eased, fitting itself around her slender digit. Petra soon added one, then two more fingers inside of him. The burning returned each time, but for shorter intervals before Peter just fell filled. Soon her three fingers made short jabs as her other hand continued to stroke him, and before he knew it, Peter was moaning. His cock felt more electric with her ministrations inside his ass, more alive with nerves and sensations.

Peter didn't realize just how deep Petra's fingers were in his bowels until she slipped them from him. He turned over his shoulder, watching Petra lubricate her pink phallus. As her hands greased and stroked the fake cock, Petra moaned as though the dildo was an actual extension of herself. The image was strange and highly erotic to Peter; Petra, the idea of feminine sexuality masturbating a male organ.

Petra, her pert breasts dripping water and her soft curves glistening in the bathroom light, fondled pink testicles and swilled the pink head while growling with a pleasure that, while Peter was sure was imaginary, seemed to evoke a very real sensation within her. It would be the one moment in the entire time they had been together at that point that Peter hesitated about what he believed he knew, understood or even imagined Petra was capable of. Petra glanced to Peter's eyes, her own brown globes ravenous with desire, and began to massage the spongy, pasty flesh of his bottom.

"Oh baby, I'm so hard for you," she cooed. "You make me so hard. I want you to jack me off."

"Huh?"

"I want you to jack me off. Play with my balls and stroke my cock, baby," she said, not belying an ounce of irony to this exchange. For the first time since entering the shower, Peter turned, leaning back against the stall. Petra grabbed his hand, placing his right against the pliable shaft of the dildo. With the other hand, Petra slipped it to the faux balls, and underneath them, so his fingers found and rubbed her slit. Peter understood in an instant what she had been asking him, and his hands began their work with what he hoped was the same tender sensitivity Petra often used on his own member.

Petra leaned back, her face submerging into the shower stream as her brown hair parted layered against the water's pressure. Peter stroked her phallus, amazed at how lifelike it felt, even to the point of a rigid network of veins snaking along the shaft. Petra sighed and moaned out with each stroke. Peter's other hand felt her liquid coat him in curtains of lust; he arched his fingers to allow slight penetration beyond the vulva. The move spurred her hips forward.

Peter suddenly experienced a surge of power.

"You like me stroking your cock, baby?" Peter cooed. "You like my hand rubbing your nuts and squeezing your shaft?"

He doubted he could have said anything else that would have garnered a reaction like he received with those questions. Petra shot up from her reverie, her hands clasping against his forearm, as though wanting to pull him away, but daring not to.

"Yes. Oh God, yes. I love your hands," she rasped out. "Jack me off. Jack my cock off in you...your....ha....hand."

"How 'bout I suck you off? Huh, baby? You want me to swallow your load, suck your beautiful cock all the way to the root?" Peter's own words shocked him; he never even knew he was capable of such depraved acts. And for a moment, he worried Petra would hold him to his offer. Instead, his words set her off.

Petra's hips became erratic and frantic, humping his hands urgently. She expelled a litany of unintelligible words and moans before clasping her arms around his body and shooting her tongue inside his mouth so it danced with his own.

"Cumming. I...I....I'm cu...u...ummming!" she broke the kiss and screamed, Petra's body going rigid like volts of electricity ripped through her form. Her nails bit into Peter's arms and he almost had to hold her up from collapsing into the narrow shower floor. Finally, Petra's body settled into a warm embrace, Peter salvaging the last vestiges of her sticky orgasm with his fingers.

****

"The codes, Peter. You got your deal," Howard said.

Peter sighed, rereading the emailed memo sent by the agent to a department director in Langley, Va. It seemed valid enough, but even if they tried to revoke it, Peter knew he would fight a losing battle. They'd get his codes anyway. At least now Petra had a fighting chance.

So Peter gave Agent Howard and the three other agents a series of codes that were the proverbial keys to the kingdom at VizoTech.

**** Peter was fucked for the first time in his life the weekend before Petra disappeared and Agent Howard and his small goon squad canvassed VizoTech computers for evidence of industrial espionage. It wouldn't be much longer until Peter was to be fucked a second time.

As Petra continued to descend from her orgasm, she pecked little kisses across Peter's chest and again began massaging his anal entrance. The dildo, strapped to her groin, poked against Peter's abdomen uncomfortably.

"I'm still hard," Petra chuckled.

"Honey, you'll never not be hard with that thing."

Petra forced Peter to suddenly turn, and again he was pressed face-first against the fiberglass wall, his rump extended toward Petra. She applied more petroleum jelly to his rectum and to the dildo, slinking two fingers inside of Peter and wiggling around. Peter again breathed in.

"Petra, wait a second...."

"Shhhhhh." She whispered, finger over her mouth and against his ear. "No turning back now, baby. I want my cock in your ass. Just try to relax."

Peter closed his eyes and waited. He felt the cool head slide on his greasy bottom and slip between his cheeks. Petra toyed with the dildo, rubbing the head up and down, over and over across his sphincter. Despite his trepidation, peter felt the tingles of desire sprinkle across his skin. He sighed out loud as Petra grasped his soft cock and began to stroke it. Grease remained on her hand, and soon his cock was slick and hardening fast.

Still she just taunted Peter with the dildo. Petra would press upwards so the head would just begin to ply open his hole, but then she'd pull back, letting it slide down his crack again in agonizingly slow flicks. Petra's hand was producing a decent amount of pleasure, and Peter found himself involuntarily shoving his hips forward to meet her gropes. He felt her other hand slip to his own hips, and the moment he dreaded began.

Petra slunk the dildo against his entrance and pushed. At first, Peter sensed nothing more than just pressure, and it seemed his sphincter would not comply. His hole lasted only so long. Peter clenched his teeth, sucking in breath as he felt the head slip passed the mouth of his ass and dip inward. No pain, just a feeling of stretching. And something more: Those tingles, increasing in intensity as her hand continued to softly play with his cock.

"That's it, baby. Just relax," she mewed.

Pressure again, and this time, the dildo began to slide slowly into his canal, first the entire head, then the beginnings of the shaft. Peter again felt his insides burning at the intrusion moaning out more in pain than pleasure, but Petra continued her invasion forward. Petra began to rub him harder and faster, and soon the erotic sensations tampered down the burn and mixed with it to produce something not altogether unpleasant. Petra stopped halfway down, continued to push, but it seemed his ass wouldn't yield another inch.

"Oh God, Petra. Fuck me."

He heard her gasp in pure arousal, animalistic lust. And Peter pushed back. The dildo sank to its fake balls, and while only six inches, the phallus completely filled him like a medieval pike. Petra was rampantly jacking Peter off, but he hardly noticed. He only felt the burn and the pain and each minute droplet of water from the torrent that was the shower at that moment. It was as though his whole body was alive with sensation, intense, not sexual, but just like a physical scream of virginity loss.

His anal cavity adjusted; Peter felt his muscles yield, forming around the dildo. Soon Petra began to jut in and out in slight, shallow jabs. Her hand continued to work on him.

"Oh. Mmmm. Oh, yea," Peter cawed. The burn had subsided, and while some discomfort remained, there was a rising pleasure within him. Petra took his moans as encouragement and lanced him with longer strokes.

"You like this, baby? You like my cock fucking your ass?"

"Yea. Yes. God, yes. Don't stop," Peter responded, his voice rising and shrill, almost feminine. He felt feminine. Not homosexual, but softer, exposed and open, both emotionally and physically. He was giving his lover something, a pleasure on its own level that fed into an intimacy he never thought possible with another human being. And the more Peter became the woman, the more Petra morphed into the man.

One hand still stroking his cock, another reached up and tweaked one of his nipples. Peter pushed his chest down into her palm, craving the attention and sharp pinches. "Oh my God, fuck me."

"That's it. I will fuck you. I will fuck you whenever I want," she began to shout at him while ramming the dildo inside him. Her constant gentle demeanor changed, her voice instead betrayed a cruelty Peter had never heard before. There was a subtle hint of anger, but Petra's voice spoke more of power and domination. And his lover fucked Peter like a demon. "You want me to fuck you, don't you?"

"Yes. Keep....fucking...me....feels soooo good."

And indeed it was. There was no pain, no burning. Each thrust brought with it an intense shooting fountain of pleasure; each stroke of his cock brought his body closer to total oblivion. An orgasm was approaching, one that was unmatched by anything in his life.

"I can do anything I want to you, can't I?" Petra stammered.

"Yes. An...any.....thing."

"I can be anybody I want with you. Anybody, and you'll never question me."

"No. Be anybody...please....just .... Kee....keep....fucking me."

"I can lie to you. I can make you do anything. I can make you believe in anything I want. And you'll just beg for my cock, all the time."

"Yes!"

"Cum for me, Peter. I want you to let go. Feel my cock erupting inside of you."

Peter was losing control. His body convulsed as wave upon wave of sexual electricity rode through his body. "Cu....mmm...cummm....mmmming. Oh God!"

His penis exploded. Cum jetted out from his tip and splashed against the shower stall in the same volcanic intensity as Petra's own cum the day he fucked her ass. Peter nearly lost conscious, his legs slipping on the floor as her dildo rampaged his anal canal and her hand milked him of all sanity.

Peter was the virgin bride, felt completely feminine against his lover, his husband with the soft skin and beautiful breasts.

Peter was numb. Petra disengaged her dildo from him and an ache returned. As did their roles. The perverse energy their coupling produced drained away with the water, leaving Peter feeling both bruised and fallow. Petra turned him around, and she too reverted back to the gentle lover he always knew her to be. She kissed him deeply, not sexually, but with an emotional relish and tenderness.

"Thank you, Peter," she said, as she sank to her knees, the water draining on her head and face, as she swallowed his cock in her mouth. Despite his intense orgasm, Peter soon became hard and emptied another load into her mouth, salvaging some of his masculinity before the two exited the shower and slept the rest of the day away.

****

Petra did the same thing a week later, after the two made love in the bedroom despite their house guests. She and Peter took a shower together and she knelt before him, his backside soapy and her hands massaging suds as her mouth worked magic on his renewed erection.

"Cum for me, Peter. I want to swallow your seed," she said, breaking off from her sucking. Her mouth engulfed him again, her saliva coating his cock and his length reaching to the back of her throat. Peter held her shoulders, leaned back and closed his eyes, feeling his cum creep up his shaft and his body caressed by the impending orgasm. It was a gradual plateau, his breath coming in short gasps, rising in a crescendo with each spark of pleasure.

"Yea. Yea. Yea. I'm coming, Petra. Suck me down, take it."

Peter jerked his body forward, cradling her head and dumping his own into the shower. He moaned out as Petra gurgled his juice and continued to slurp his shaft. Soon she rose, finished showering and exited with Peter, hand-in-hand.

By the time they both got to the dock, Jerome, his wife and the other couple were already lounging in Peter's Bayliner, its motor growling in the water. Peter's blue and white striped boat certainly wasn't top-of-the-line, and smaller than most of the other vessels on Lake Anna, but it was more than adequate for a bachelor. Today though, Peter was not only part of a loving relationship, but now also had house guests. And they filled the boat entirely, save one extra seat for Petra. He may have been welcomed into Petra's friends' fold, but there were some places there was no room for him in their midst. And his boat, which would be ticketed by authorities for more than five passengers, was now their little circle.

"You don't mind, do you?" Jerome said, sitting behind the wheel and his eyes shielded by sunglasses. He looked almost too preppie, like someone straight out of a Miami Vice episode, with a white golf shirt and white and navy shorts.

Petra, her black bikini framing her curves deliciously, arched her legs over the boat's side, and sat with pure grace on the fifth seat. It was that one moment, of Petra entering the boat, that would always stay with Peter. It was his last image of Petra before she disappeared.