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“You guys– what?” Nicholas asked after recovering from his coughing fit of choking on his matcha latte. His eyes bulged out of his socket, brows pulled together in both fear and concern for his friend across the table. His reaction garnered a few glances from passersby, a soft flush appearing beneath the apples of Kei’s cheeks as she smiled apologetically at a glaring mother. Granted, she could’ve chosen a more discreet location to disclose such… private matters, but Nicholas pushed it out of her.
“Keep your voice down, Nichol,” Kei said in a hushed voice. “Why are you overreacting? You’re the one that asked.”
“I asked how your weekend was,” Nicholas reiterated, eyes practically bulging out of his eye sockets. “Usually people say ‘oh spent a night in’ or something, not ‘oh, I p—‘“ Nicholas stopped mid-sentence when Kei sent a pointed look to lower his voice. He continued in a hushed tone, “Not that you pegged your husband, Kei.”
Kei rolled her eyes. It wasn’t unheard of for the two to share such matters—Nicholas and Kei go back almost a decade of friendship, and she has heard so much about his own sexual endeavors with his on-and-off boyfriend, Euijoo.
“It was his idea, by the way,” she told him before taking a sip of her latte. That seemed to do it. Nicholas’ eyes widened, brows shot up to the point they almost touched his hairline. He then glanced around, as if to catch whether anyone else heard that or if there were any hidden cameras and he was actually on a new episode of Punk’d.
“You mean to tell me that the Murata Fuma asked you to—“ He paused for a brief second, mouthing ‘peg’, then continuing out loud. “Him?” Kei only nodded, pursing her lips. She knew he’d react that way, that’s why she wanted to tell him. Everyone at the office knew Murata Fuma and to ask his wife to peg him would’ve shocked anyone. He’s a man of routine, disciplined in every single aspect of his life—and everyone just assumed his sex life was the same. Kei never said otherwise, even when Nicholas asked or if she was hanging out with her friends, the topic wasn’t taboo to her but there wasn’t anything for her to say. When asked, she’d always just shrug it off and say that it’s the same old.
So obviously, Kei, too, was surprised when the topic of pegging came up in the first place.
⋆˚࿔
Friday night was another routine for the couple. Kei would book a table at a new restaurant she’d heard about, the two meeting one another at the lobby before taking the subway to said restaurant. They’d eat, talk—Kei would do most of the talking and Fuma the eating. Then they’d ride the subway up a couple stops before reaching their destination, where Fuma drives the two the rest of the way back to their apartment. Kei sensed something was occupying his mind because the only thing out of his usual Friday routine was that he didn’t turn on his PC at all, and instead washed up and got ready for bed.
“Not up for gaming today,” he had said before patting the empty space beside him where she happily slid in, his arms around her shoulders and hers wrapped around his torso. A silence settled, one that should’ve been comfortable and lulled the two to sleep, but it was a bit off in a way Kei didn’t know how. That was until her husband finally echoed the thoughts that crowded his head.
“Would you ever want to peg me?” No hesitation. No stutter, no ‘uhms’, ‘uhs’, or ‘buts’. It was as if he’d been thinking about it for so long that the only reason why he finally asked is because he was sure of it—he wanted to do it. For what reason specifically, Kei didn’t know. It was so out of pocket that she assumed he was thinking out loud, he makes a habit of saying the most random or outlandish thing that she chalks most of it up as a joke—until it isn’t.
Kei looked up at Fuma, trying to find a hint of humour in his brown eyes, a twitch in his smile or eyebrows but found none. “What?” She had asked.
This time his tone was more stern, sure of himself. “Would you peg me?”
The corner of her lips lifted slightly, still thinking he wasn’t serious. Even if he was, then this was his way of opening the discussion towards something in the future. Fuma was a planner—he’d planned his proposal two years into their relationship and had gone down on one knee three years after. Their honeymoon traveling across Europe took three years before they actually bought their tickets. If he was serious about this, then Kei could expect him to wait at least six months before he brings it up again to officially act upon it.
“Sure.”
Apparently she didn’t have to wait six months because not even a week later did some packages arrive at their doorstep—two in total.
“Fuma… What is this?” Kei brought the two packages into their bedroom, finding Fuma by his computer, headphones pulled down to hang around his neck. She’d caught a glimpse of the store logo—cherries and a rose, and although it wasn’t anything sexual, the store name ‘Kinkalypse’ gave it away that this wasn’t his usual Pokémon care package.
“Oh it arrived, that was quick.” Fuma took the packages from Kei. “I ordered it two days ago.”
“Ordered… what exactly?”
“The things we need,” Fuma says so casually, tearing open the packages before placing the items on their bed, spread out like weaponry to choose from. “I read a bunch of websites that suggested using either but they mentioned it might depend on our preferences and since this is the first time, I thought to get both so we choose first.”
Kei was flushed red. Her chest, her neck and if she was honest, between her legs warmed up at the sight of the items on the bed. A dildo and a strap-on harness. There was the second box unopened beside them.
“I also got you a new lingerie set—I remember you eyeing it when we went out last week,” he adds, grinning at his wife.
Kei blinks once, then glances at the items on the bed and back to Fuma, then blinks again. “So you were serious about me pegging you?”
Fuma chuckled, a lopsided smile pulled at his lips. “What made you think I was joking?”
Kei was going to rebuttal, tell him that he always bullshits her on the most random and outlandish things. They walked past a takoyaki stand just three days ago and he lied through his teeth, telling her that the vendor used to be his taekwondo teacher and that he used to train by climbing up Mt. Fiji for endurance.
But of course, she knew he was lying because—no matter how good he was—he has a tell. And that was what she couldn’t find when he first asked, that was when she had an inkling feeling that he was serious, but she shoved that thought because of how used to it she was.
So she asked, “You want to do this tonight?”
“Oh no, not yet.” He took her hand, pulling her towards his computer and taking a seat, placing her on his lap. “We need to study.”
Kei couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Are you asking me to watch porn with you?” Fuma stared at her wide-eyed, the first time since this entire pegging thing where he actually looked flustered, red blooming in the apples of his cheeks.
“N-no, I thought we could watch a few, you know, educational videos about this, preparation and all of that,” Fuma tried to explain, his big hands around Kei’s waist beginning to dampen. “But— I mean, if you think watching it might be more helpful…”
An endeared smile etched across Kei’s lips before she placed a hand on his cheek, Fuma leaning into her touch like it was second nature. “It’s okay, we can watch the educational videos.”
Fuma’s smile widened, before he turned his head to kiss the palm of his wife, reaching up to lace their fingers together. “Alright, I’ve compiled a small playlist—it’s about twenty minutes altogether—“
“Do you plan to do it tonight?” Kei asked, trying to contain her laughter over her husband’s excitement.
“Oh of course not, love! Maybe this Saturday night…?” For all the years Kei has known Fuma, ever since she had met him for the very first time in an interview room—where he was the candidate and she was one of the interviewers—she knew immediately that no matter his façade, his eyes would say everything. In that moment, his eyes said everything he held himself back from uttering—he looked forward to Saturday night, lust and excitement beaming within the golden flakes of his irises as he looked up at his beautiful wife.
She couldn’t help but mirror him, nodding. “Sure, Saturday works.”
⋆˚࿔
Kei spared one last look in the bathroom mirror, fluffing up the soft curls of her shoulder-length hair. She’d put on her usual light makeup, pairing it with a darker shade of red than she’d normally go for, wanting to go all out for this evening. She didn’t know what tonight might lead to, it wasn’t anything they’ve ever done but knowing how her makeup would be halfway gone through a night similar to this, she wanted to at least be prepared.
They’ve watched the educational videos on what to do before, during and after—prep-work, aftercare, etc. Kei even read a few articles from other women on Reddit that were asked the same thing by their husbands, and to say the least, she thinks she has tonight in the bag. How hard could pegging be? After all, from her experience of being on the receiving end and how Fuma makes it look easy, it’s just a bunch of back and forth of the hip, no?
Pulling on the silk champagne robe, she tied it haphazardly around her waist, letting the right left side fall over her shoulder, revealing the matching slip-on beneath. The lace trimming highlighted the fact she was completely bare underneath. The material was sheer, the perfect size to wrap around her breasts and accentuate them despite its loose fit. Fuma knew her body in and out, he knew exactly what would’ve made her look the best—not like it was difficult, but it didn’t stop the butterflies from fluttering in her stomach.
Kei then glanced down, her heart skipping a beat. She adjusted it a bit, before exhaling a heavy sigh. They had discussed it after watching the videos. As expected of the two—Kei as a Risk Manager and Fuma being a senior Business Intelligence analyst—they put down the pros and cons of both items.
Then, Fuma got hungry and Kei was really sleepy after ten minutes of trying before they flipped a coin—it was a Litton coin—and decided on the strap-on.
A knock on the bathroom door almost caused her to jump out of her skin. “You okay in there?”
“Yeah, almost done!” After another minute of psyching herself up, she huffed and turned on her heels. She could see from the slit beneath the door that Fuma had dimmed the lights, keeping the warm bedside lamps and a few electric candles on to—quote-on-quote—set the mood.
Kei pulled the door open, peeking to see Fuma on the bed, already topless and sporting only his sweatpants (upon Kei’s request, of course). God, he really makes it easy to get hot and bothered, the thought calmed the nerves building up in the pit of her stomach.
Seeing the light spill from the bathroom, Fuma turned to see his wife leaning against the doorway, arms crossed across her chest as she tilted her head, a playful smile on her berry red lips. God, she makes it so hard to stay composed. If it was any other night, he would cross the space between them within two large steps, sweep her off her feet and devour her right then and there. But it wasn’t. It was a night where she had all the reins, she had full control over him and he wanted that.
They’ve always had a balanced and fair sexual dynamic—because of their status at work where she’s his senior, she didn’t have any qualms over him having most of the control in their relationship. He took care of her, placed her needs over his, made sure that she was satisfied every single time because nothing ever got him to come quicker than seeing her completely collapse in pure, unadulterated pleasure because of him. This time, he wanted to see what would happen if their roles were reversed. Of course, he’d still want to make sure she’s as pleased as he will be, but it was supposed to be a second thought—her words not his.
“Let me take care of you this time, baby, it’s the least I could do after all you’ve done for me,” Kei had whispered the night before and if he wasn’t holding himself back, then tonight would’ve happened a day earlier.
The soft music playing from her playlist filled the silence but could do nothing about the tension thickening with every second that passed. Their eyes locked, lust laced around the invisible string, thrumming along with the beat of the music before eventually Kei took her first step to close the distance. Almost intimidated by her energy, Fuma leaned back, adding to the space between them as she stood before him, chin lifted as her eyes looked down. He audibly gulped at the sight of her towering over him.
“Are you ready?” Her voice was low, a chill running up his spine. Not trusting his voice, he nodded. His lack of words caused her brows to pull together before she leaned down until their faces were mere millimeters apart. “I need you to use your words, pretty boy.”
Roadkill rats. Uncle Hiro’s beach bod. Litton and Stoutland. Fuma repeated various images in his mind, hoping to restrain himself from getting a boner too early into the evening. He kept his eyes on her face, because he knew one fleeting glance to literally anywhere could ruin all his self-composure.
“Yes,” he utters slowly with a nod, “I’m ready.”
Kei smiles, proud of him. Her fingers run through his hair, stopping just by the nape as she rubs the spot gently. “Do you remember the system we’re using?” He nods once. “What colour are you now?”
“Green.” She beams at the confirmation, a single glance at his lips and she immediately dove in, not wasting a second to let their tongues explore each other’s mouths. Kei placed herself on his lap, tugging at the hair by his nape, eliciting hums and moans from her beloved, as he gripped her hips like it was the only thing tethering him to this earth, keeping him grounded. She could feel him against his sweats, growing harder by the second, throbbing against her own heated core.
“Are you… wearing it?” Fuma asked between kisses, already breathless.
“Mhmm,” she hummed against his lips.
He pulled them apart, thumb tracing across her swollen lip before lifting his gaze, pleading. “Can I see it?”
Kei nodded. She’d adjusted it so it wouldn’t get in the way of foreplay, tucking it so it wouldn’t poke out of her clothes awkwardly. She untied her robe, letting it fall to the floor and lifted the skirt of her slip-on, revealing the silicone dick pressing against her stomach.
“Fuck…” Fuma’s fingers hovered over it, almost scared to touch it. “Now that I see it…” He looked up. “Do you think it’ll fit?”
With the tension, the laughter that bubbled in her throat escaped a lot faster than she expected, her head thrown back, amused by her husband’s worry.
“Why are you laughing?” Fuma couldn’t help but laugh too though.
“Now you know how I feel, baby,” she cooed, brushing his hair back. “Did you buy the one smaller than you on purpose?” Considering the strap was five and a half inches, and not as girthy.
His lips twitched upwards. “Maybe.”
She rolled her eyes, grinning, her hand finding its spot on the side of his neck to pull him closer. “I’m sure you can take it.” She pushed him backwards as their lips crashed once again, not as messy as before but deeper, more passionate. Kei pulled back, sitting on his thighs with him chasing after her lips but as he lifted his upper body, she pushed down into the mattress.
“Like I said, baby—” Her slim fingers trailed up his neck, past his Adam’s apple, catching it bob down before she stopped by the corner of his mouth.
“Let me take care of you.” Her two fingers slipped past his lips, pressing and prodding his tongue, before she pulled them out, dragging them—saliva-slicked trails down his neck to his chest, settling right between his pecks. She cocked her head to the side, meeting his gaze, pupils blown out with lust. “Understood?”
Without waiting for a reply, she leaned down, crashing their lips together, moving their lips in a slow rhythm, tongues taking their sweet time caressing one another. With Fuma distracted, she tip-toed her finger to his right nipple. Slick wet with his own saliva, her fingers hovered over it, circling the hardening nipple before she pinched it, testing the waters and Fuma’s reaction was immediate, a deep, guttural moan vibrating throughout his body, shooting straight to his dick as it shot up, pressing against Kei’s thigh.
“Oh my God, Kei…” he moaned against her lips, pulling their lips apart with his eyes squeezed shut, unable to focus with her wet fingers pinching and twirling his nipple, head pushed back deeper in the mattress, veins prominent in his neck and temple. Kei occupied herself with kissing around his mouth, down his neck, sucking, biting and licking the spot until it reddened beneath his ears, where his birthmark was placed. “Kei...”
“Hmm?” Kei hummed, smiling against his skin.
“Please…” He whined, the knot in her abdomen growing tighter upon hearing him beg.
She detached her lips from his neck, face hovering over his. “Please what, baby?”
He inhaled a shaky breath, brows knitted together, pleading. “Please fuck me.”
Kei short-circuited in that very moment, her actions pausing to process him. They were barely into the night and he was already an absolute wreck beneath him—desperate, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths, lips wet and swollen, eyes wide and pleading. She was grateful during times like this that she didn’t have a dick, because the way it would’ve shot straight up and come undone in the very sight of Fuma right now.
“Whatever you say, princess,” the words slipped past her lips before she could stop them. Fuma’s breath hitched in his throat, a groan rumbling in his throat as he squeezed his eyes shut. Kei stared down at him, stunned, before glancing down at his crotch then back up to his face. “Did you just.. Did you just come, Fuma?”
“Mhm,” he hummed, trying to suppress his moans, biting down on his lip so hard he could draw blood.
“I barely did anything, baby,” Kei cooed, endeared. “Are you sure you can handle more? We haven’t even got to the good part.”
“Y-yes, I can— hnng—“ The vein in his temples popped out as Kei’s hand cups his clothed crotch, feeling the heat radiate through the material. “Ke– haa…” The bundle of nerves stirred in the pit of her stomach. Hearing him whimper, beg and come completely undone beneath her triggered something in her—something she never knew she could even feel. A lust so… raw and animalistic. She understood how Fuma felt whenever he’d hit her g-spot, or lick the spot beneath her clavicle, big hands grasping her waist—doing everything to hear how good he made her feel.
“Gosh,” Kei mumbled, leaning down to kiss his chest. “You sound so pretty.” She looked up through her lashes, a smirk pulling at her lips. “What’s your colour, baby?”
“Uh, g-green, it’s green,” he confirms. “I’m ready.” Kei’s smile widened before planting a final kiss right above his heart and tugging at his sweatpants, tossing them haphazardly probably somewhere with her robe. Despite having just come, his cock was hard once again—not fully, but getting back to its full length. Head angry red, leaking and gleaming beneath the low lighting, Kei found herself practically salivating at the sight. If it was any other night, she’d have her plump lips wrapped around it, sucking and licking, cleaning his come right off, but even she had to show self-restraint.
“You’re so beautiful,” Kei whispered into the silence, her eyes dragging up his body, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. “I can’t wait to make you feel good.”
She reached out to his side, where he’d place the bottle of lube prior, along with a clean towel. Be generous, she remembered reading, there was never too much lube when it came to preparations. “How do you want to take me?”
“Oh God,” Fuma groaned.
“What?” Kei breathed out a laugh.
“You just do so much to me, Kei,” Fuma uttered breathlessly, avoiding her gaze as he continued, “uhm, I-I want to see your face as you– as I’m taking you.”
She squeezed the bottle, letting it drip down her fingers and on to the bed. They both moved up closer to the headboard. Fuma planted both feet onto the mattress, lifting his upper body and leaning back on his elbows. “Can you come closer? I want to see your face while you… do it.”
“Finger you?” Blush bloomed in his cheeks once again, averting his eyes. “Why are you acting all shy all of a sudden, Fuma? Don’t you want this?”
“I do!” He answers too quickly, shooting up, eyes wide meeting hers. “I just– I didn’t know what to expect and you’re…” He sighs. “You’re so fucking hot right now, I can’t focus at all.”
Kei’s own cheeks burn up, her clean hand reaching up to cover her face as she laughs softly. She then reaches out, pushing Fuma back as her own body is parallel to his. “Just relax, okay? Deep breaths…” The pads of her finger tapped gently at his rim, a chill running up his spine at the cold sensation, a strained moan echoing past his lips. Their eyes never tearing away, she watched as his mouth fell wider as she pushed through, warmth surrounding her finger. Her finger moved slowly, poking and prodding in a gentle beat before Fuma’s lips moved, a poor attempt at uttering ‘more’. She slipped another finger in, eliciting another moan, higher in pitch and longer as he threw his head back. He tightened around her fingers, Kei pausing to let him compose himself and once she felt the muscles relax, she moved again in a faster rhythm.
Once a third finger was added to the equation, Fuma was beginning to move his hips along with her fingers, matching her pace and chasing his own high, trying to angle himself so she reaches where he needs her the most. But no matter how slender Kei’s fingers were, they couldn’t reach where he was itching for. He needed something longer.
“I-I’m ready,” he urges, grabbing her wrist to stop her. “We can do it now.”
“You sure?” He bites down on his lip, nodding. “Okay.” She cleaned her fingers with the towel before lifting her slip-on, about to squeeze the bottle of lube when Fuma spoke up.
“Let me take off your dress.” He sits up, wincing at the new sensation and reaches for the bottom of her dress, the silk material leaving a satisfying feeling against his finger tips. He pulled it over her head, tossing it along with their other discarded clothes and leaned back, finally taking in the full view of his beautiful wife—on her knees, bare of everything except for the strap-on wrapped around her crotch, the thick, silicone cock standing upright before him.
Pikachu leaving Ash. The racoon washing its cotton candy. Fuma had come untouched once, he couldn’t do it again.
Kei gripped the base of the cock, brows pulled together in concentration as she lined it up with Fuma’s rim. “Okay,” she muttered, one hand moving to grip his waist. “Deep breaths, baby. I’ll be slow.” True to her word, she thrusted in a slow, torturous speed that made watching paint dry a more fast-paced activity. She didn’t want to hurt him, she was scared to do so—it was his first time after all. Fuma winced, underestimating the girth of the artificial cock, inhaling and exhaling shaky breaths. She was only halfway in when he let out a ragged moan.
“I can’t— fuck.”
“Yes, you can, just a little more,” she guided him through the pain as it tore through him. She paused when she was about to bottom out, letting him adjust. Fuma’s eyes were still squeezed shut, brows knitted together, a deep crease forming. Kei then asked, “Colour?”
“Yel– wait.” He exhaled one more time, the pain subsiding. “Green, it’s green.”
“I’m moving, okay?” Not trusting his voice, Fuma nodded. She pulled out an inch before thrusting back in. She kept a fair length from entering him, not wanting to go all in if he wasn’t ready so she limited herself i n keep at least four inches in him Her pace was slowly growing, her grip on his waist tightening that if she were to remove her hands, there were be a clear indication of where they had been—not enough to bruise, but it was getting to that point.
“Are you… are you putting all of it in me?” Fuma asked in between breaths, pain and pleasure etched across his features as he locked eyes with her.
“I’m—”
“Give it all to me, Kei,” he ordered, his tone stern for the very first time this evening. Concern was written all across her face, causing the corner of his lips to lift in a smile of surrender—as if surrendering his entire being to her. He assured her with nod, “I can take it.”
She didn’t need anymore convincing, allowing herself to rid of her own worries because she sees how much he really wants it. The glint in his eyes, the desire, the desperation twinkled brightly under the low lights. The corner of her lips lifted, eyes hooded and laced with lust—a look he has only ever seen in her when she was on top of him, about to ride him to oblivion.
Wordlessly, she pushes her hips forward in a teasing pace, giving him a false sense that she had put all of herself in, and once his face relaxed, she snapped her hips, thrusting the rest of her cock in until she was bottoming him out. A pained moan echoed loudly, bouncing off the walls and back. Fuma’s back arches off the mattress, throwing his head back as moans and groans, whimpers and cries spilled past his lips. It was erotic, pornographic, never in the decade that she has known this man beneath her has she ever heard such vulgar and sensual noises come out of him. It was music to her ears.
“Feels good?” she asked, leaning down. She grabbed his thigh, pushing them wider apart, allowing her to slot herself on top of him. Reaching above him, she grabbed a nearby pillow, placing it beneath his lower back for a new angle, hoping to reach deeper in him.
“Fu… ha… ck.” Fuma’s moans broke in pieces as she continued to thrust in and out, the pace growing sloppy. She knew he was close, his hard cock bobbing and smacking against his stomach, head red, pre-cum leaking and dotting his abs like stars, glistening as they moved in a messy rhythm, lewd noises of their skins smacking, Fuma’s whimpers and Kei’s heavy breathing filling the room to the point the music was practically nonexistent. “I’m cuh… I'm coming.”
Kei wanting to prolong it, quickly grabbed his dick, thumb pressing against the slit causing him to whine, body shaking restless. Tears prickled in the corners of his eyes, trailing down the side of his face as his moans grew whinier, whimpering in a mix of pain and overwhelming pleasure. “Not yet.” She merely uttered, before releasing his cock and pushing his knees up, pressing them against his chest. Kei pulled back until just the tip lingered in his hole, eyes locking with Fuma’s, panic registering in his but amusement in hers before she pushed all the way in, hitting his prostate and he unraveled.
He tenses, throat burning as he releases a long groan, his cock sputtering out his load, spilling out all over their stomachs, strays finding their way and flying to Kei’s breasts and even her face. She watched him unfold and crumble, letting him fall limp on the mattress, chest rising and falling in steady breaths before she pulled out, unbuckling and tossing it aside.
Grabbing the towel, she wiped him clean, avoiding his cock as he was still sensitive there. Once he was clean, she carelessly wiped at her own body before falling into the space beside him, her own exhaustion finally registering and an ache began to bloom most notably in her lower back.
“How was it?” She asked, reaching up to brush his damp hair back away from his forehead, hand caressing his temple.
“Amazing,” he sighed, the corners of his mouth lifted. He turned his head to look at her, “You?”
She chuckled lightly. “You make it look easier than it actually was.”
His eyes widened, not expecting that response. “Really?” She nodded, moving closer so her nose nuzzled into his neck. “We could try the dildo next time.”
She laughed. “Next time?”
A pause. Fuma then asked, “Next Saturday?”
“So you’re going to peg him again this Saturday?” Nicholas asked exasperatedly, as if hearing the whole thing tired him out. Kei sipped at her coffee pensively, nodding. “Damn.”
“You should try topping Euijoo every once in a while,” she advises, pointing towards him with her cup. “Maybe then you guys wouldn’t break up so much.”
He gawked at her, almost offended and was about to protest when he paused, thought about it for a second, then hummed. “Maybe you’re right.”
She smiled. “I know I am.”