Earlier that day, over coffee at our favorite café, I had confided in my best guy friend. "I want to try anal," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm scared."

"Hm," he looked me over, staring at my intently.

I went on and sighed, "I think... I think I'm going to go on a dating app and hook up with someone to get it over with. That way, it's less intimate and I get it over with."

I fumbled with a napkin while I told him this, a bit embarrassed by sharing so much.

He looked at me, concern etched on his face. "Why not do it in a safe way?" he suggested after a moment of silence. "Someone you trust."

"Who?"

He continued looking at me without saying anything.

My eyes widened in surprise. "You mean... you?"

He nodded slowly, his expression serious. "If you’re okay with it, I’ll help you. No pressure, no judgment."

I hesitated, weighing my options. The idea of hooking up randomly with someone felt reckless, but doing it with him—someone I trusted deeply—seemed like the safer, more controlled option. But you're afraid of not just anal but the intimacy. "Okay," I agreed.

The room is dimly lit, the soft glow of a single lamp casting shadows on the walls. My heart is pounding in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears. I'm sitting on the edge of his bed, my legs crossed, trying to steady my breathing. The air is thick with anticipation, and I can feel the weight of the moment pressing down on me.

He stands in front of me, shirtless, muscles rippling under golden skin. His jeans are unbuttoned, hanging low on his hips. He looks at me with a mix of curiosity and intensity, his dark eyes locking onto mine. "You sure you want to do this?" he asks, his voice deep, almost gravelly.

I nod, unable to speak. My throat feels dry, and my hands are trembling. I’ve never done this before, never even considered it until he brought it up. But now, here we are, and there’s no turning back.

He steps closer, his presence overwhelming. He reaches out, placing a hand on my knee, his touch warm and firm. "Relax," he says softly, though there’s an underlying command in his tone. "Just breathe."

I try to follow his instructions, taking slow, deep breaths, but it’s hard. My mind is racing, filled with nervous thoughts. What if it hurts? What if I can’t handle it? But beneath the fear, there’s something else, something I haven’t admitted to myself yet. A thrill, a tingle of excitement that sends shivers down my spine.

He slides his hand up my thigh, his fingers dancing lightly over my skin. "Good girl," he murmurs, and the praise sends a jolt of warmth through me. It’s strange, hearing those words from him, feeling like I’m being seen in a new light.

He pulls me to my feet, guiding me gently until I’m standing right in front of him. His hands move to my waist, holding me steady as he bends down, his lips brushing against my ear. "Spread your legs," he commands, his breath hot against my skin.

I obey, my legs parting just enough for him to fit between them. His hands slide around to my back, pressing me closer to him, our bodies aligned from hip to chest. I can feel his hardness against me, a startling contrast to the softness of his touch.

"That’s it," he whispers, his voice husky. "Now, bend over."

My knees nearly buckle at the order, but somehow, I manage to lower myself onto the bed, my hands resting on the mattress. My ass is high in the air, exposed, vulnerable. I can feel the cool air on my skin, a stark reminder of my position.

He moves behind me, his hands gliding over my hips, pausing to trace the curve of my ass. "So beautiful," he sighs, almost to himself. His fingers dip between my cheeks, probing gently, finding my entrance.

I gasp, jerking forward slightly, but his grip on my hips holds me in place. "Easy," he says, his tone soothing. "I’m not going to hurt you."

His finger circles around my hole, teasing, dipping in just enough to make me tremble. I bite my lip, trying to stay still, but it’s impossible. My body is already reacting, betraying my nervousness with damp heat.

"Such a good girl," he murmurs, more fingers joining the first, stretching me slowly, carefully. "You’re doing so well."

Every word he speaks seems to sink into me, melting away some of my anxiety. But there’s still a part of me that’s clinging to the unknown, to the fear of what comes next.

Suddenly, he presses a kiss to my lower back, right above where his fingers are working. The sensation is unexpected, almost tender, and it makes my breath hitch. "Ready?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

I swallow hard, nodding again, though he can’t see it. "Yes," I manage to say, my voice small.

He withdraws his fingers, leaving me feeling empty, exposed. I brace myself, expecting him to guide himself to my entrance, but instead, he surprises me by leaning down to whisper in my ear once more. "Tell me why you’re here."

The question catches me off guard. Why am I here? Because I wanted to try something new? Because I was curious? Or because, deep down, I wanted to be dominated, to experience something different, something...dirty?

"Because..." I start, then falter, unsure how to finish.

"Because you want to be mine," he finishes for me, his voice firm, leaving no room for doubt. "Because you want to feel what it’s like to be taken, to be claimed..."