Remittance Girl's Writing Challenge

Over on her blog, Remittance Girl has a writing challenge going on: take one scene, and write it up in two different versions, one vanilla, one kinky. I decided to pick up the gauntlet. Of course, my scene includes anal sex. 

Version One: Vanilla

She heard the knob on the door click and twist a second before his wide frame filled the doorway, blocking out the light from the hallway. She lifted her eyes, and peered at him as he entered the room. He looked tired, a bit worn out from a hard day, but relieved to be home, and happy to see her.

She wondered how much of her he could really see. The lights were dim, only half aglow, casting a cozy spell on the room that enveloped them in quiet intimacy. She was naked on the bed, warm and waiting. His eyes raked over her body.

“You’ve been waiting for me?” He asked.

“Yes,” she said, smiling.

“Good,” he answered, smiling back. She melted, seeing his smile, and relaxed her head into the pillow. His smile always set her at ease, making her feel safe, and sure of her surroundings. She stretched across the sheets in soft repose, knowing full well she was turning him on.

He began to strip away his clothes, but with some difficulty; he was unable to take his eyes off her naked body. Her grin widened, watching his clumsiness. Finally, he was as naked as she, and he climbed on top of the bed to join her.

He climbed on top of her naked body, careful not to crush her with his weight, and began to caress and stroke her ivory skin. She moaned and hugged him to her as he worshipped her porcelain flesh with soft kisses and tender strokes. His lovemaking always began like this, soft and slow, like a haunting melody played on a fine tuned instrument that filled her with warmth, love, and sometimes, pangs of sorrow.

“I think, tonight...?” He asked, lifting his brows.

“Mmm.” She narrowed her eyes, giving him a heady seductive look. If he hadn’t of asked, she would have suggested it. But she was happy he had asked.

He gave her a nod of understanding, grinning boyishly. Then, he opened the bedside table drawer, and pulled out the lube.

“Ass up,” he said. His voice was high, playful, and a bit unsure. “Spread your legs a little wider? And put your head down...God, you have such a beautiful ass.”

He trailed a gentle palm down her thigh, and she sank her face into the mattress, feeling her body go limp and languid. His finger rubbed circles around her asshole, gentle and relaxed, and she let out a breathy sigh, settling in. When his finger entered her, carefully probing, she didn’t move, but let his finger slide in, enjoying the delicious thrill.

His finger withdrew just as slowly as it had entered, and she mewled from its careful withdrawal.

The mattress shifted, and she knew he was taking his place behind her. A second later, she felt the tip of his cock press against her glistening asshole.

He spread her cheeks open with his hands as he pressed forward, trying not to go too fast, trying not to hurt her. But the sensations were just too much for her, and she gasped.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” he said full of worry.

“I will,” she said, trying to reassure him. His cock slid in, inch by inch, and he held her by the hips, steadying her with his wide hands. At last, he was all the way in, and she moaned in pleasure.

He fucked her with even, measured thrusts, gradually building up the tempo in cadence with her cries of delight. He leaned into her, giving her his weight the way he knew she liked it, and she groaned and shivered in ecstasy.

She squeezed the sheet in both her fists, feeling him fill her over and over again, unable to control the rising wave of pleasure building up inside.

“Oh God, I’m going to--I’m going to--” She pushed back into him, filling herself with his cock. He took this as his cue to ram into her, letting go of his own need. As they rocked against each other, timing their thrusts, they moved back and forth, in and out, two bodies creating one form that casted dusky shadows across the walls of their sheltered hideaway.

They came together, driven to satisfy each other’s need. As their cries coalesced and faded together, they continued to move until they were sure the other was done, only tiny aftershocks still wracking their frames. Then they collapsed on the bed, side by side, tranquil and sated.

“Thank you, David,” she said, her voice full of warmth and love for the man she called her husband. She curled into his body, snuggling in, and he put his arm around her to hold her close.

“Give me a few minutes, and we’ll do this again,” he said. She looked into his face: his eyes were full of playful mischief. She laughed and nuzzled his neck. Then she fell asleep in his cradling arms.

 Version Two: Kinky

She heard the knob on the door click and twist a second before his wide frame filled the doorway, blocking out the light from the hallway. She lifted her eyes, glancing at him as he entered the room, but not too directly. He looked slightly worn, harried, yet satisfied with her presence, and the way she had presented herself as ordered.

She was naked on the bed, waiting for his arrival. The lights were dim, only half aglow, casting a unnerving and ominous setting, like the dark corners of the dungeon he often brought her to. His eyes raked over her body.

“You’ve been waiting for me,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Some of the tension left her body: he was pleased with the way she had behaved, at least so far. She stretched across the sheets, giving him access for a full inspection.

He began to strip away his clothes with nimble fingers, never taking his eyes off her naked body. She shivered under his scrutiny, hoping what he saw aroused him as much as he aroused her, hoping tonight, he would allow her to come.

He climbed on top of her, crushing her with his weight, and pinned her wrists against the bed as he claimed her flesh with lips and tongue. His lovemaking always began like this, hard and demanding, and his easy control over her body's natural reactions always filled her with wanton deference.

“I think, tonight,” he announced.

“Mmm.” She could not bring herself to say the word that meant she agreed. He did not really need her to agree. She would not defy him. He opened the bedside table drawer and pulled out the lube.

“Ass up. Spread your legs a little wider. And put your head down. God, you have such a beautiful ass.”

The sentiment came out of nowhere, and filled her with delight. His declarations of praises, while rare, were always sincere, and she cherished each one.

He trailed a brazen palm down her thigh, and she sank her face into the mattress, feeling her nervousness grow. His finger rubbed circles around her asshole, brazen and wicked, and she let out a sigh, steadying herself for what was to come. When his finger entered her, roughly probing, she willed herself not to move, but let his finger slide in.

His finger withdrew just as swiftly as it had entered, and she mewled from the aching thrill. The mattress shifted, and she knew he was taking his place behind her. A second later, she felt the tip of his cock press against her glistening asshole.

He spread her cheeks open with his hands as he pressed forward, trying to force her open even further, knowing his attempts would only make her clench tighter. She gasped.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” he growled.

“I will,” she promised. His cock slid in, inch by inch, and he held her by the hips, steering her with his wide hands. At last, he was all the way in, and she moaned from the aching fullness.

He fucked her with even, measured thrusts, gradually building up the tempo in time with his rising pleasure and need. He leaned into her, forcing her to take his weight, and she groaned in wanton obedience.

She squeezed the sheet in both her fists, feeling him fill her over and over again, her submission giving way to rising pleasure that she could not control--but he could.

“Oh God, I’m going to--I’m going to--” She pushed back into him, filling herself with his cock, hoping he would allow her what she so desperately wanted, what she needed after all these weeks of denial. He answered her plea by ramming into her, letting go of his own desire. He slammed into her soft body, over and over again, and she tried to meet his thrusts, working hard to claim her own pleasure the only way he would allow.

She came before him, but he continued to move, milking his pleasure out her wracked frame for as long as he could. At last, he came inside her aching asshole, pounding into her, and she came again, her cries mingling with his own. Then they collapsed on the bed, side by side, tranquil and sated.

“Thank you, David,” she said, her voice full of reverence for the man she called her Dom. She curled into his body, snuggling in, and he put his arm around her to hold her close. Their after-sex snuggles were one of the few times she could touch him as she liked, without fear of reprimand.

“Give me a few minutes, and we’ll do this again,” he said. She looked into his face: his eyes were sultry, full of calm conviction and complete control. She shivered and looked away, waiting to be made to submit once again.