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It took me more than a week to tighten back up from the fucking Pierce had given me, though Edward claimed that I was never as tight as I was before. Not that he was complaining of course. He loved the fact that he could just insert his cock into me at any time, in any place, and sink to the hilt with no complaints. I was still plenty tight enough to squeeze his cock to an amazing orgasm.
In fact, I think my regular fuckings were only strengthening the muscles of my sphincter. Edward described how my hole looked one night as he rimmed me, telling me how it had changed.
"When I was first fucking this hole, it was barely more than a pucker. Had to rim it for hours just to open it up." He massaged the outside of my hole with a finger. "Then, after I started fucking you on the reg, it finally started opening up. Your asshole became this beautiful, smooth, vertical slit, and started extending to the inner edges of your ass cheeks. That's when you started taking it like a champ," he said, three fingers now working there way in and out of my hole. "But after I lent you to Pierce for that night..." he trailed off as he lined his cock up with my anal lips. "It's reached its final stage. It's perfect now. Puffier, bigger, darker. A good inch long gash between your cheeks. It even funnels in a little bit, when you're relaxing it. Fuck, it's amazing." I ended up cumming as he described just how sloppier my hole had gotten.
The afternoon with Pierce really had changed me. According to Edward, he had stopped by after an hour or so, to see if I was alright and wanted to go get some post-coitus food, which means I had been getting pounded by Pierce that entire time. It certainly didn't feel like it, I was in such a haze. He had really turned my hole into mush. But considering everything he had give me, I think it was a fair price.
At this point, I had four of his tattoos covering my body. If Pierce was to be believed, they hit some sort of pressure points that altered how I thought and how my body worked, though I'm not sure if I believed him. I had a bull above my right pectoral that made it easier for me to get fucked. I had a butterfly above my left hip that loosened me up, and supposedly made my ass self lubricating (as if). I had a pit bull on my left bicep that made my nipples more sensitive, and finally I had a snake tattooed on my right trapezius that eliminated my gag reflex.
Edward, who had a dolphin above his left hip that supposedly made his cum taste better, seemed to believe in the mysticism that Pierce dished out. Still, I loved his work, and I was inspired to continue getting tattoos from him.
The first time I re-entered his shop after my fucking was a month later. I had gotten a raise at work, and Edward had bought an Xbox so I didn't need to save up for one anymore. It wasn't as awkward with him as I had thought it would be, and he was cordial and polite as ever, so different than he had been while fucking me.
I told him that I wanted to get something on my chest, I was thinking a stingray. We chatted as he prepared the needles, and by the end of it I had changed my mind. Pierce was right, a peacock would look good. He had just gotten this iridescent ink that could shift between green and blue and purple depending on the light, and was eager to try it out on someone.
So I left that day with a peacock tattooed on my chest, it's flashy tail feathers splayed from one nipple to the other. I couldn't wait for it to heal, so I could show it off. A week later, the redness had faded, and I paraded around the apartment shirtless to show it off to Edward and a few of our friends. They oohed and aahed appreciatively as the feathers seamlessly shifted between brilliant hues.
"Too bad that's going to be hidden underneath your shirt all the time," Edward pointed out to me. "The whole world deserves to see that piece of art."
He was right. This peacock turned out beautifully, and I'd be damned if I hid it under cloth all day. So Edward and I went on a shopping spree at the mall, picking out clothes that would bare the most amount of chest to show off my tattoo. I got super deep V-necks, which would have shown off a bush of chest hair on another man, but for me displayed an arc of colors (with a tiny bird head peeking inquisitively at the bottom).
I bought loose tank tops with sleeves cut all the way down my side. I wasn't in the best shape of my life, but I still had enough definition. Besides, I caught people glancing under the tank pretty often, to catch a glimpse of the shimmering tattoo.
I even bought a few vests and a mesh tank, for use when we went out clubbing. It wasn't something we did that often, but now that I had these tattoos to show off, it was becoming more and more tempting. Edward liked bending me over as I grinded on him at the dance floor, showing all the thirsty guys whom I belonged to. When he was feeling particularly horny, he would wriggle a finger down the cleft of my ass and finger me around all the other guys, a few of which saw what was going on and gave Edward subtle high fives.
Since we were out shopping anyway, we bought some more club attire for me. Skinny jeans and short shorts, both cut to show off my ass. A few jockstraps, to frame my bouncy cheeks. And at one store in a secluded corner of the mall, Edward bought me a leather collar, for when we wanted to play rough in bed.
About this time, I had transitioned fully to being Edward's bottom. I got fucked by him pretty much every day, sometimes two or three times on weekends, and we had kinkier sex, where he would just brutally pound me and call me his bitch, about once or twice a week. I only topped him maybe once or twice a month, usually after giving him a nice, long blowjob, and he would always fuck me right after I fucked him. There was something about the taste of Edward's cum now that made me really want a piece of his tight ass. I would guzzle it up at the end of a long fuck session (that is, if he didn't load up my ass with it), and be filled with the desire to just flip Edward onto his back and pound the shit out of him.
But whenever I got in these topping moods, Edward just pinched my nipples to subdue me, then placed me on all fours and fucked me doggy style. After he deposited a load in my used asshole, I had no idea why I had been so interested in topping him, when getting bred brought me so much pleasure.
It was an almost delectable torture, what I was going through. I yearned to top, but loved it when he put me in my place. I came all that much harder when I was denied his ass, when he flipped me to be his bitch.
Hell, I knew Edward even wanted to bottom sometimes. He would moan as I rimmed and fingered him, but eventually a fire would ignite in his eyes, and he would be overcame by the need to pound me into the sheets until he came so deep inside me it wouldn't come out until the next day. Perhaps I had realized that Edward's topping side came out strongest after a long foreplay session, and perhaps I gave him those extended rim jobs in hopes that he would change his mind and fuck me instead. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I loved it when he decided that he would bottom and then change his mind halfway through to fuck me.
For our one year anniversary, I had a special surprise planned for Edward. To preface, I'm naturally not all that hairy. I have a furry crack, pubes, and a bit of a happy trail, but not much else. Edward has even less though, and always commented that he had always wondered what it was like to be hairier than the guy he was with.
So my gift to him was a shave. I buzzed off my pubes, my crack, even the little bit I grew on my stomach, until I was completely bare from my abs to my knees. It took about an hour and a few cuts, but I was proud of the work I had done. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, my cock looked so much... grander when it was shaved. And the night of our anniversary, after a wonderful night out, Edward thought the same thing.
"Mmmm babe I wish you were this smooth all the time," he moaned, his breath tickling my smooth crack before his mouth enveloped my balls.
"Oh babe, you know I would for you," I said, as he began sucking my cock. "It's so much maintenance though. And I'm dreading when it comes back all spiky."
"Maybe Pierce will have an idea..." Edward trailed off, absorbed in deepthroating my cock. He came up for air and began fingering me. "How bout I buy it for you, as an anniversary present?" "Thanks babe, I- ugh oh fuck," he took my cock to the root as he pumped two fingers in and out of my hole. "Babe, stop, I'm going to- oh shit oh shit fuuuuccck," I groaned as I released a two day pent up load in his mouth. After I came down from the orgasm, I grinned bashfully at him. "Sorry for cumming so fast babe."
"Oh, did you think we were done? I've still got quite a few loads I'm going to milk out of you tonight."
We visited Pierce the next day to ask what his recommendation was. Inviting us to the back room, he asked me to strip and spin around. As I complied, he tutted, running a finger over patches where stubble was already growing back.
"Yeah, I can take care of this. It's actually rather easy to stop hair from growing in certain places, if you know where to press. But first, let me shave off that five o'clock shadow." He had me lay down on the same table I had been fucked senseless on as he got out some old timey shaving supplies. Whipping the cream into a lather, he suggested I thank Edward for the gift he was giving me. "In the most carnal way you can think of," he said, with a wink.
My head leaning off the end of the table, I opened my mouth wide, automatically. But Edward wanted to toy with me first. "Tell Pierce what a bitch you are for my cock first," he said.
"Ungh, I love choking on that beautiful piece of meat," I moaned in my sluttiest, sultriest voice, putting on a show for Pierce, who had begun shaving my junk once more. "Please ram it down me throat. Fuck me so hard my voice rasps for a week. Fill my stomach with your cum, I need to drink it down. Give me y--" I was cut off by Edward's cock head at my lips, silencing me with a steady push.
His arms flexing as they braced his weight on the cushion next to my head, Edward began thrusting his cock into my un-gagging throat. I had taken him like this a hundred times, and his cock slid in easily, just as easily as when he was fucking my other hole.
We took it slowly, Edward keeping up a dirty string of phrases, mostly for Pierce's benefit, calling me his bitch, his slut, his whore, among all sorts of creative variants. Meanwhile, I was just enjoying the taste of his cock, the feel of it in my mouth as it smoothly glided in and out, the glimpses I got of his flexing body above me, when my vision wasn't being obscured by his dangling balls.
I was rock hard, making it easier for Pierce to shave me, and when he finished he told Edward to breed my throat. Apparently, Edward was closer to the edge than I thought, because he came almost instantly, sending the first few shots straight to my gut, as usual, before pulling out far enough to coat my tongue with the rest. I swallowed each delicious drop. As I sat up and he walked back to the chair to get his clothes on, I admired his perk little butt, and saw Pierce admiring it too.
But Pierce got back to business soon enough, taking out his pen to begin tracing a design on my leg. It was a lizard on the inside of my thigh, in a style very similar to his pointy, sharp tattoos. This was the first time that Edward had sat in when I was getting ink done, and the three of us laughed and had a good time throughout the process. Pierce loved hearing stories of our sexcapades, and he even told us a few of his stories from his glory days.
I learned that Pierce was bisexual, and had dropped out of high school after impregnating his girlfriend. He got the job at the tattoo parlor to help pay child support, until the girl's parents whisked her away to a "better child rearing environment". Pierce said he still fucked girls on occasion, but preferred guys since "no matter how hard you try, you can't knock `em up."
Edward and I both expected Pierce to want some kind of sexual favor once he had finished up, but he waved us out of the shop, explaining that he had more customers coming in. It didn't bother us too much, just gave us more time to fuck eachother senseless.
That night, I ended up topping, as rare an occasion as that was, since my thigh was too sore to bottom. Edward loved it, his arms and eyes scrunched up as his mouth was kept open in a perpetual groan. I guess bottoming so much had really taught me how to top, because I was hitting all his spots. Afterwards, he told me that he had almost cum without touching himself. "That's the dream," I responded, laughing.
Two weeks later, and I was still as smooth as a frozen pond. Edward loved sticking a finger into my mouth, and then gliding it up my hairless crack. With no hair, the spit helped his finger slide immediately into my hole, priming it perfectly for a fuck. Though, being the tease that he is, Edward would often times just perform this maneuver casually, sometimes in public, with no intent to fuck me for hours, just to rile me up. He knew that if he did this a few times when we were out, I was bound to jump him as soon as we got home, begging to ride his cock.
About a month later, Edward and I had some friends over to play a variant of jenga, where each tile had some kind of dare written on it. While most had to do with drinking, some were more sexualized, like kissing a certain body part of the person next to you. I had to kiss my friend Linda's feet more than once, much to everyone's mirth and my embarrassment. But one tile I drew towards the end of the game was a bit more extreme.
"Shave your pits," it said. I had no problem with this, seeing as for one dare Edward had already had to make a prank call to a sex shop asking for a job. This wasn't nearly as bad. Traipsing drunkenly to the bathroom, our posse watched as I lathered up and drew the razor across my underarm. They cheered when I finished, and we returned to the game.
About a week later, I realized my pit bush hadn't grown back yet. How peculiar,' I thought to myself. I expected an itchy hell by now.' But my pits stayed resolutely bare, like a prepubescent teen who changed in the bathroom stall because he didn't want anyone else to see how behind he was on the puberty train.
Not that I minded at all. I was still wearing the tight clothes and tank tops everywhere to show off my ink, and I thought my shaved pits matched all that. I knew a lot of body builders at the gyms shaved their pits, probably to keep body odor away, and if it worked for them, it worked for me.
Edward paid particular attention to my pits now that they were shaved. I noticed him staring at them when I stretched, and even got him ogling them once as I yawned after an evening trip to the icecream parlor. Glancing down, I saw his pants tenting, and I led him into the bathroom so I could take care of that. I would hate for him to be embarrassed in public.
In bed, Edward had this move where he would pin my arms above my head with one hand, as the other pinched a nipple, toying with me. Usually we would make out while he did this, but one night he stuck his face into my smooth pit and gave it a tentative lick. A minute later, he was going to town, slurping up all of the day's perspiration and sharing it with me via a sloppy makeout. I could taste my sweat on his tongue, smell it on his face, and while it wasn't as strong as Pierce's distinctive musk, it was still quite a turn on.
Edward would occasionally tease me light heartedly about how my body looked so much younger than his now, about how I looked like an 18 year old again, about how I looked just like one of those porn star bottoms who got double penetrated in every other film. I took it all in stride; we both enjoyed my hairless body for a multitude of reasons, not least of which because it made me look even more like a bitch than before.
A year and a half into our relationship, we went in to get matching tattoos. We weren't stupid, I wasn't going to get something stupid like "Edward's Bitch" tattooed across my ass cheeks (though Pierce highly recommended it), we would just get a matching pattern that would still look fine if things didn't work out.
We had decided to get circlets around opposite wrists, so when we held hands we would have adjacent ink bracelets. Edward wanted a ring of sharks, to go with the large ship and crashing waves that covered his forearm, and I just decided to get some more generic fish in a loop around my wrist. Pierce thought our idea was very cute, and promised that the tattoos would bring us even closer together.
And perhaps they did. It felt even more special when we strolled around now, hand in hand, our aquatic ink inches apart. When he fucked me, Edward and I would clasp those hands together, interlocking our fingers as our bodies tumultuously bonded at the hip. I felt more connected to Edward than ever, more willing to give my body up to him fully, and I knew he felt the same about me.
Our already high sex drives were ramped up even further, though the majority of our fucks were short and sweet. We would wake up in the same bed, his cock pressing between my cheeks in the night, and he would just slip it inside me. Five minutes later, he was busting inside me and I was cumming all over myself. Then we showered, brushed our teeth, and went on with our days.
Our long fuck was the one when we came home from work. That's when we would spend half an hour to an hour on foreplay, on enjoying eachother's bodies, on trying to find new nooks and crannies that would bring our lover pleasure or going back to old favorites. This was also the time when our love making was more... demanding. This is when Edward would call me his thirsty bitch, make me plead for his cock, brutally fuck me until I begged for him to cum. While our morning fucks were romantic and sweet, our afternoon fucks were long, intense, and primal, both of us fucking like dogs rather than lovers.
But after we had both came, the names and acts of the past hour faded, and we went back to normal life, like fixing dinner and watching Netflix. While we used to shower after the afternoon sex, we stopped after a bit, just to enjoy the more natural smell that came after a forceful pounding.
As the night went on, Edward would usually start teasing me: pinching a nipple after a jumpscare on tv, slapping my ass as I walked to the bathroom, gliding a finger up my crack as I cooked dinner. Once this had built up, we went for our third round, another short and sweet fuck. Sometimes we would just suck eachother off at this point, and I would get to taste his maddeningly sweet cum that just made me want to fuck him (though the next morning I'd be invariably speared on his cock). After cumming, we'd fall asleep in eachother's arms, usually with his head cradled on my chest, though we shifted as we slept until I was the little spoon.
That became the routine for us, no matter whose house we were at. Five minutes of spooning sex in the morning, an hour and a half of doggy style in the afternoon, and fifteen minutes of missionary in the evening. Getting three loads of cum up my ass in a day was becoming the norm for me, though I still enjoyed the times when I got to swallow him.
And this is how it went for the next few months. The positions and the details got shifted around, but we fell into a comfortable routine of fucking, where I would bottom for my boyfriend thrice a day, seven days a week. We were more than satisfied with our sex life together, though it would change after I got my final tattoo from Pierce.
Contact me via email or tumblr. I may be making a new tumblr for my stories, so keep an eye out for that as well. The finale of this story is next.