Chapter 32: Spirit Fingers Part 2
Lydia’s stunning emerald eyes widened, her plump, slick lips forming a perfect, breathy ‘O’ of faux distress. She swayed on her feet, the powerful muscles in her bare thighs tensing as she shifted her weight with a childish, anxious wiggle. “But… but I don’t know what to do,” she whined, the pitch climbing into a high, airheaded register. She brought her hands up, fingers fluttering near her throat, the movement making the pale blue, spray-on fabric strain across the full, breathtaking swell of her DD breasts. “It’s so big and scary! Tell me, Al-ex! What should I do?” She drew out the name into two petulant syllables.
Alex watched, her dark eyes glittering with wicked delight. The performance was absurd and breathtaking. This statuesque goddess of muscle and curve, reduced to a pouting, clueless teen. Alex stepped closer, the separate, cable-like muscles of her quadriceps shifting and bulging with a dense, powerful grace under the tight black vinyl shorts. She raised the plug, holding it aloft between her strong, compact fingers. The purple gem caught the dim amber light.
“You’re such a dummy, Lyds,” Alex chirped, her voice a perfect, bubbly squeal. She shook her head, her angled black hair—cut like a stylish helmet framing her face—swishing. “It’s just a little cold, is all. We gotta warm it up!” Her playful, trickster grin was full of mischievous intent. “Use your mouth, captain. Warm it up for its new home.”
She positioned the cold, smooth tip of the stainless steel plug directly in front of Lydia’s parted lips. She moved it slowly, with a hypnotic precision, until the metal just brushed Lydia’s bottom lip. “C’mon,” Alex coaxed, her tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Open up.”
Lydia’s stunning emerald eyes locked onto Alex’s. The vacuous cheerleader expression melted for a heartbeat, replaced by a flash of deep, hungry understanding. Then the act resumed, her lashes fluttering. She opened her mouth wider, a warm, pink invitation.
Alex, maintaining that intense, unblinking eye contact, slowly pushed the plug forward. The cold, rounded tip slipped past Lydia
Alex, maintaining that intense, unblinking eye contact, slowly pushed the plug forward. The cold, rounded tip slipped past Lydia’s full, yielding lips, the metal greeting the wet heat of her mouth with a quiet authority. Lydia’s stunning emerald eyes fluttered shut, a low hum vibrating in her throat as she accepted the intrusion, her strong jaw working to accommodate the girth.
She began to suckle it, her cheeks hollowing with a serious, focused rhythm that was at odds with her vapid performance. Her tongue, powerful and exploratory, mapped every ridge and curve of the stainless steel, warming it with deliberate passes. The taste was clean, metallic, and faintly sweet from her own saliva, a blank canvas that focused all her attention on the act itself.
Alex watched, mesmerized by the contradiction. “Good girl,” she whispered, the playful squeak gone from her voice, replaced by a husky appreciation. She released her hold on the plug, leaving it lodged in Lydia’s mouth. “You hold onto that for me, okay? Keep it nice and warm.”
Her hands, strong and sure, settled on Lydia’s hips. She guided the taller woman with a confident pressure, turning her slowly to face the floor-to-ceiling mirror. Lydia obeyed, moving with a fluid, pliant grace, her profile reflected in the glass. The pale blue shirt was a second skin, plastered to the dense landscape of her back muscles and the dramatic inward sweep of her waist.
“Hands on the mirror, captain,” Alex instructed, her voice regaining its bubbly, instructional lilt. She gave Lydia’s hip a playful slap. The sound was a crisp, startling punctuation in the quiet room. Lydia jumped, a gasp muffled around the plug in her mouth. She complied, placing her palms flat against the cool glass, her arms forming powerful lines. The position arched her back, thrusting the full, magnificent curve of her bare ass into prominence.
Alex stepped back, her dark eyes raking over the presented view. The compact muscle of her own body, a study in controlled power in the black vinyl and mesh, was a stark contrast to Lydia’s long, toned lines and sumptuous curves. She let out a low, appreciative whistle. “Now that’s a halftime show,” she chirped.
She moved in close behind Lydia, the warmth of her body a palpable presence. Her hands came to rest on the upper slopes of Lydia’s ass, her thumbs tracing the deep cleft where it met her lower back. The skin there was smooth, warm olive. Alex’s touch was not gentle; it was possessive, appreciative. She kneaded the firm, rounded flesh, feeling the powerful gluteal muscles tense and relax under her palms.
“Gotta make sure you’re ready for the big game,” Alex sang, her thumbs dipping lower. She applied firm, spreading pressure, pulling the cheeks apart. Lydia whimpered around the plug, her stunning emerald eyes flying open in the mirror, watching Alex’s every move. The cold air of the room kissed her most intimate skin, a shocking thrill.
Alex leaned in, her brow almost touching the small of Lydia’s back. She examined the exposed furl of muscle with a theatrical, critical squint. She let out an over-the-top, dismayed groan. “Oh, no. No, no, no, captain.” She shook her head, her angled black hair swinging. “This is a disaster zone.”
Lydia made a confused, enquiring sound around the plug, her hips giving a slight, anxious shift.
“It’s too dry back here!” Alex declared, her voice pitched high with fake concern. She used her thumbs to stretch the opening wider, completely exposing Lydia’s tight, pink pucker to the mirror and the amber light. “Look at this! The poor plug won’t have a happy home. It’ll be all uncomfortable.” She clicked her tongue in mock sympathy. “What ever should we do?”
She eased the pressure, letting Lydia’s cheeks settle back together, but kept her hands planted on them. She looked up, meeting Lydia’s reflected gaze, her own expression one of exaggerated perplexity. “Got any ideas, Lyds? My genius is, like, totally tapped.”
Lydia, her cheeks hollowed from sucking, slowly turned her head to the side. She made a show of thinking, her stunning emerald eyes glancing upward. The movement showcased her profile in the mirror’s edge: the strong, clean line of her jaw, the corded muscle of her neck leading to the hard ridge of her trapezius, all draped by the sheer curtain of her black hair. Her lips were stretched wide around the gleaming metal shaft, only the purple gem end visible. She looked like a goddess indulging in a forbidden treat.
With a soft, wet pop, she pulled the plug from her mouth. A thin strand of saliva connected her bottom lip to the glistening steel for a second before breaking. She held it loosely, her breath coming in quick pants.
She adopted an unsure, hesitant voice, the high school teacher peeking through the cheerleader act. “I… I don’t know,” she breathed, her stunning emerald eyes wide and faux-innocent. She looked from the plug in her hand to Alex’s expectant face in the mirror. “Maybe… you could use your mouth? Like I was doing? To… make it wet?”
The suggestion hung in the perfumed air. Alex’s playful, trickster mask shattered.
A raw, hungry sound escaped her. Any pretense of a game vanished in an instant. Her dark eyes went black with pure need. “Yeah,” she rasped, the word almost a growl. “Yeah, that’ll work.”
She didn’t wait. She didn’t tease.
In one fluid, powerful motion, she dropped into a slight squat, her incredible quadriceps bulging like boulders under the vinyl. Her hands clamped onto Lydia’s ass cheeks with a forceful grip and yanked them wide apart. Then she plunged her face forward, burying it completely in the warm, smooth divide.
Her mouth sealed over Lydia’s exposed asshole with a desperate, voracious hunger.
Lydia cried out, a sharp, broken sound. Her hands slapped against the mirror for purchase. The sensation was electric, obliterating. Alex’s tongue was a hot, wet, insistent point of contact against her most private nerve endings. It wasn’t a tentative lick; it was a deep, lavish stroke, flattening against the tight ring of muscle before spearing inward with shocking pressure.
Alex moaned, the vibration buzzing through Lydia’s entire pelvis. The flavors exploded across her tongue: clean, salty skin, the subtle, musky essence unique to Lydia, a hint of the expensive amber perfume from the boutique, all underscored by a profoundly erotic earthiness. It was intoxicating. She ate with a skilled, focused gluttony, her nose pressed against the smooth skin, breathing Lydia in.
She worked her tongue in tight, swift circles, loosening the resistant muscle. Then she pointed it, stabbing and flicking with rapid precision. Lydia’s legs began to tremble, her powerful thighs shaking. A continuous, low moan poured from her lips. Her free hand, the one not clutching the plug, fisted against the mirror.
Alex pulled back just enough to gasp for air, her lips and chin glistening. She didn’t go far. She let Lydia’s cheeks close partially, then she began to bite. Not hard, but with a playful, insistent pressure. She nipped at the soft, fleshy mounds, her teeth grazing the supple skin. She trailed her tongue along the inner curves, licking the sensitive areas where cheek met thigh, savoring the different textures.
“So fucking perfect,” Alex mumbled against her skin, her words hot and damp.
Then she spread Lydia open again, diving back in with renewed fervor. This time, her tongue delved deeper, probing insistently. She alternated between broad, washing strokes and that focused, penetrating point. She could feel the muscle beneath her tongue beginning to relax, to soften, to open for her. The taste was now blended with her own saliva, creating a slick, primal mixture.
Lydia was unraveling. Her body writhed, not away from the sensation, but into it, pushing her ass back against Alex’s relentless face. Her breaths were ragged sobs. Desperate, she shoved the cold plug back into her own mouth, sucking on it fiercely as if it were a lifeline, as if the sensation in her mouth could somehow ground the cyclone of pleasure Alex was unleashing on her other end. Her stunning emerald eyes were squeezed shut, tears beading at the corners from the overwhelming intensity.
Alex read her body’s responses like a chart, adjusting her technique. She lapped at the winking, loosened hole, then drew back to blow a cool stream of air across the wetness. Lydia jolted, a shattered moan echoing around the plug in her mouth. Alex chuckled, the sound dark and satisfied, before sealing her mouth over the area again, sucking gently on the tender flesh itself before delivering one final, deep, swirling lick that had Lydia’s entire body seizing up.
Alex finally pulled away, breathing heavily. She looked up, her face shimmering with moisture, her expression one of dazed, carnal triumph. Lydia’s asshole was now glistening, relaxed, and beautifully presented.
“Okay,” Alex panted, a genuine, breathless smile breaking through. “Now it’s ready for the plug.”
Alex loosened her grip, letting the firm, warm mounds of Lydia’s ass settle back together with a soft, palpable jiggle. But her hands didn’t leave; they roamed, kneading the supple flesh with a possessive rhythm, her strong thumbs tracing the deep crease where cheek met thigh. She shifted forward, pressing the tight, muscular plane of her own bare stomach against the swell of Lydia’s ass, the heat between them immediate and shocking.
Her hands slid up from Lydia’s ass to cradle the dramatic flare of her hips, sinking into the soft skin just above the hard ridges of her obliques. Then, with a firm, insistent pull, she drew Lydia’s taller body back into her own, aligning them from shoulder to thigh. Lydia could feel the compact, dense strength of Alex’s frame, the crush of her augmented C-cup breasts against the small of her back, the hot puff of Alex’s breath between her shoulder blades as she nuzzled her face into the powerful trapezius muscles of Lydia’s back.
“Shhh, big girl,” Alex whispered into her skin, her voice a low, tender hum that was a stark contrast to her earlier squeal. It was still a performance, but a quieter, more intimate one. Her lips moved against the tense cords of muscle. “Just feel me. Just breathe.”
One of Alex’s hands remained splayed on Lydia’s hip, a grounding anchor. The other reached up, her fingers gently closing around the stainless steel plug that Lydia still held in a slack, stunned grip. Alex pried it loose with careful insistence. As she pulled it slowly from Lydia’s mouth, a long, gleaming strand of saliva stretched between Lydia’s bottom lip and the cold metal tip before finally breaking.
“I need you to be a big girl for me right now, okay, captain?” Alex whispered, her lips still touching Lydia’s back. Her kneading hand on Lydia’s hip never stopped its gentle, circular massage. “Can you do that? Can you be my big, brave girl?”
Lost in the haze of sensation—the kneading hands, the warm body pressed against her, the lingering, throbbing echo of Alex’s mouth on her ass—Lydia could only manage a weak, desperate nod. Her forehead rested against the cool mirror, her stunning emerald eyes seeing nothing but a blur of gold and shadow.
“Good,” Alex breathed, the word a warm reward against her skin.
Then Alex was moving, sliding down her body in a smooth, deliberate descent. The textured vinyl of her shorts rasped softly against the back of Lydia’s thighs. The dense, cable-like muscles of Alex’s quadriceps bulged and shifted as she lowered herself gracefully back onto her knees on the plush crimson carpet.
From this vantage, the view was monumental. Lydia’s ass was a perfect, pale olive curve above her, the cheeks trembling slightly with the woman’s quick breaths. Alex’s dark eyes drank it in. With her free hand, she placed a firm, gentle pressure on the inside of Lydia’s right thigh. “Widen your stance for me, brave girl,” she murmured. “Just a little.”
Lydia, compliant, shuffled her feet apart a few more inches. The shift made her glutes tense, highlighting their sculpted roundness.
Alex’s hand holding the plug came up, and she used the back of her wrist and her curled fingers to gently but firmly spread Lydia’s cheeks apart again. The air, cool on Lydia’s wet, exposed hole, made her flinch. Alex examined her work. The muscle, relaxed from her mouth, glistened under the amber lights, a deep pink furl in a halo of smooth skin.
“Beautiful,” Alex whispered, more to herself than to Lydia.
She guided the tip of the plug forward. The stainless steel, warmed from Lydia’s mouth, pressed against the loosened entrance. It wasn’t cold anymore, but the firm, unyielding pressure was a profound, existential statement. Lydia gasped, her fingers splaying wide against the mirror.
“That’s it,” Alex coaxed, her voice a steady, hypnotic stream. “Just let it meet you. Don’t push, don’t clench. Just breathe out.” She applied the slightest, incremental pressure. The rounded tip began to dip into the outer ring of muscle, beginning to stretch it into a wider circle.
Lydia’s whole body went rigid. A sharp, high whine escaped her. The stretch was intense, a blunt, burning pressure that seemed to eclipse all other thought. Her stunning emerald eyes were squeezed shut, her teeth biting into her own bottom lip.
Alex felt the resistance solidify. The ring of muscle, which had begun to yield, suddenly clamped down in a vice-like, reflexive spasm, rejecting the intrusion. She immediately stopped pushing. “Shhh, it’s okay,” she soothed, her own heart hammering with a fierce, protective thrill. “You’re okay. You just got scared. My brave girl got a little scared.”
She pulled the plug back, the slick tip emerging completely with a soft, wet sound. Lydia sagged against the mirror, a sob of relief and frustration shaking her shoulders.
“We just need a little more warmth, that’s all,” Alex said, her tone pragmatic and kind. “You’re doing so good. So perfect for me.”
She didn’t hesitate. She leaned in again, her helmet-cut black hair brushing against the back of Lydia’s thighs. This time, her tongue was less ravenous, more deliberate. It was a slow, concentrated laving, a direct, wet massage applied solely to the tight, protesting muscle itself. She circled it with flat, persistent strokes, then pressed the very point of her tongue directly against the center, applying a steady, penetrating pressure that mimicked the plug but was softer, warmer, more forgiving.
She felt the clench beneath her tongue begin to unlock, to soften into a yielding quiver. Lydia’s moans shifted, becoming lower, less panicked, more pleasured. Her hips pushed back minutely, seeking more of the contact.
Alex pulled back once more, her chin wet. She didn’t bother wiping it. She repositioned the plug. “Try again, my big, strong girl,” she whispered. “You can take it. I know you can.”
Again, the cool metal met the prepared entrance. Again, Alex applied slow, relentless pressure. This time, the initial breach was easier. The tip slid past the outer resistance, the stretched muscle accepting the first bulbous curve. Lydia’s breath hitched, a broken sound that was half-pain, half-wonder.
“You’re taking it,” Alex breathed, awe in her voice. She watched, mesmerized, as the steel began to disappear into Lydia’s body, millimeter by impossible millimeter. The sight was profoundly erotic: this fiercely strong woman being slowly, meticulously filled. “Look at you. So brave. So fucking strong. Just a little more.”
The stretch intensified as the widest part of the plug’s neck began to enter. Lydia’s knuckles were white against the mirror. A continuous, guttural moan was being torn from her chest, raw and primal. Her body was slick with a thin sheen of sweat, the pale blue shirt clinging to every convulsive tremble of her back muscles.
“It’s so big,” Lydia choked out, the roleplay gone, replaced by a stark, visceral honesty.
“I know, baby, I know,” Alex said, her own voice strained with focus and desire. She kept the pressure constant, unrelenting. “But you’re bigger. You’re stronger. Your body is made for this. It wants this. Let it have it. Please, keep going. Please, take it for me.”
She was begging now, her playful confidence transformed into a sincere, desperate urge to see Lydia conquer this. The pleading worked. Lydia, hearing that raw need in Alex’s voice, took a huge, shuddering gasp and drove her hips back in one final, surrendering push.
The crown of the plug passed the impossible threshold.
There was a moment of stunning, full ache, a sensation of being split open. Then, with a sudden, wet, sucking glide, the remaining length of the narrower shaft slipped in effortlessly, followed by the flat base. The oval purple amethyst settled flush against Lydia’s winking, stretched hole, glittering like a dark jewel nestled in the cleft of her ass.
It was in.
Complete.
Alex fell back on her heels, dropping her hands to her own thighs. She stared, breathless. The plug looked both obscene and perfect, a foreign, beautiful intrusion nestled between Lydia’s trembling cheeks. Lydia’s body was frozen, her head hanging, her back arching as she panted, adapting to the profound, stretching fullness inside her.
The silence lasted three heartbeats. Then Alex’s playful, vulgar grin returned, wider and more genuine than ever. “Holy. Fucking. Shit.” She let out a loud, barking laugh of pure exhilaration. “Look at you! Look at that thing in your ass!”
Lydia turned her head slowly, her stunning emerald eyes unfocused and glassy. She looked over her shoulder, down at Alex.
Alex crawled forward on her knees, her eyes glued to the plug. “It’s so fucking sexy I can’t even deal,” she babbled, her bubbly, crude self fully restored. “Your ass was already a work of art, but now? Now it’s got a fucking masterpiece parked inside it. That purple? Against your skin? It’s insane.” She reached out a reverent finger and traced the very edge of the gem where it met Lydia’s heated skin, not touching the sensitized hole itself. “You feel that? That full feeling? That’s you being a champion. That’s my big, brave girl winning the whole damn game.”