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Trogar recruits new allies to aid in his plan.

Now, with fingers slickened by copious amounts of make-shift lubricant, Denny again focused on the tiny rim. He was undulating gently into her, his thrusts not the focus of his energy. Alessa was kissing the underside of his jaw, attempting to train her mind on pleasures other than the awkward invasion into her anus. She tried to relax for him, knowing the more she squeezed, the more painful it would be. She was taking deep breaths and letting them completely out when the tip of his finger made progress past the outer ring.

Denny halted his advancement, turning his attention back to kissing her, back to moving her on and off his shaft, realizing she would require another moment of adjustment before he could continue on. Again, when she seemed relaxed against him, his finger slowly pushed inside, sliding past the strong circular muscles. He turned his hand so the pad of his finger stroked the thin wall between her vagina and rectum.

He groaned at the eroticism. "Fuck," he said lowly, "I can feel myself in you." Denny's eyes closed as Alessa leaned away from him again so her back rested against the tiled wall. He was content to just stand there and stroke his shaft through her delicate tissue. Her breath was stuttered, and then she began to move her hips on him, working herself up and down as he held her suspended in the air. He opened his eyes to watch her lithe body move toward release. The most fucking beautiful thing. He could feel his sac begin to tighten.

"Touch yourself," he growled, wanting to see her stomach convulse and feel her inner walls flutter from the other side. She dropped a hand from his shoulder and found her clit, rubbing it almost frantically as he picked up the pace with his lone finger, now working in and out. She was moaning in a different, almost tortured tone she hadn't vocalized before. His finger in her bottom was building a new kind of pleasure, if it could be called that. Something warm, without the heat, something controlling without the pinpoint sharpness like in her nub. Something new.

She began calling his name, her hips gyrating against him as her hand moved rapidly on her tiny, aching pearl. "Please," she moaned.

He could feel it rising, feeling the tensing of his skin at the base of his shaft. And then he saw the muscles of her lower abdomen quiver. Denny pulled back and thrust brutally into her once and then twice. His imbedded finger felt his organ pulsing as he shot countless wads of his come inside of her. Her legs drew up tight around him, and in her climax, she clutched herself to him, squeezing her body as snuggly to him as possible. Not even a drop of water fitting between their skin.

Denny felt dizzy, the intensity of his orgasm draining him of his presence of mind. He was breathing harshly, a hand against the wall supporting them as they slowly regained their senses. Though her entire being buzzed in the chaotic after-glow, she eventually lessened her hold on him, unwrapping her legs so she could slide down his body.

It had been the most unique sensation, erotic and pleasurable, but reminiscent of other things, and she suddenly didn't know what to think about how it had driven her to orgasm so intensely. She was quiet as she soaped up and washed her hair. Denny finished bathing before she did, and by the time she emerged from the shower he was nearly dressed.

There wasn't much speaking as they continued to get ready, partly because the loud hum of her hair dryer drowned any conversation, and partly because Denny was too content to think of words while she was filled with feelings that had no words. At one point, her phone silently buzzed on the counter next to the sink. The caller I.D. said 'mom.' She reached for it, paused, and at the last second switched it off. She would talk to her tomorrow, but not now, something the color of guilt rolling in her stomach.

On the drive to the restaurant, Denny was relaxed and jovial, sharing his childhood memories of Dallas.

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