It’s Everything I Wanted And More!

“This just isn’t working.”

“What isn’t working? I think I’m doing better.”

“I know you like to clap on 1 and 3’s but this is ridiculous. You know, this is our third go around tonight of me correcting you. You think you’d get with the program by now, Jesus Christ.”

Jane throws her hands up in frustration and pulls back from a prone Dirk with a huff. Dirk sits up on the couch and rubs his forehead. It was Jane’s first time pegging anyone. How was she supposed to know anything?

Why yes, Dirk has taken on the task of teaching Jane how to top for the first time. Why yes, this was happening after a particularly stressful campaign planning meeting. Why yes, they're doing this now. Never was there ever a better time for two friends to take the time to do an activity that requires patience and mutual problem solving together than after a full-day of frustration. What better place to do it than as a spur of the moment decision in Jane’s office in the middle of the night and haphazardly half-taking off their clothes to do this as quickly as possible. They’ve been at this for a good hour trying to find a good rhythm to no avail, including a full 30 minutes of fumbling with the strap trying to put it on. It might as well been hours. The only thing that went smoothly was Dirk’s preparation, but let’s face it: He’s always prepared.

It's occurring to Jane that this was not a good idea to do while the both of them were already frustrated. Dirk already knew this. The air is tense. It’s not helped by lick of awkward comedy of Dirk sitting there naked on the edge of the couch while Jane reclines on the pillows awkwardly, shirt and tie still on and a little too mindful of the toy protruding from the strap on her hips, like they’re a married couple suffering from the husband’s sexual impotence. Now the mood’s been ruined for certain with that thought entering both of their heads at the same time.

“I think we’re done here”, Dirk shakes his head and rises from the couch to go fish for his pants.

“I’m not going to learn if you don’t give me the chance, Dirk”, Jane needles. “I’m sorry I wasn’t blessed with the natural equipment that would make this intuitive.”

He ignores her and continues to collect his clothes.

“And I know you’ve put up with worse ‘stroke games’ than mine and liked it. I never knew you to be a quitter. Maybe, you just don’t have it in you tonight.”

“Maybe I don’t", he sighs.

“Then maybe I should find a new campaign manager if you're going to throw in the towel so easily”, Jane teases.

Dirk stops in his tracks and turns around. He grabs Jane by the shirt and tie and leans down until he’s nose to nose with her. Jane’s demeanor breaks and she laughs. The “hoo hoo”-ing one. Something about it connects and is just the right amount of motivation. In one swift move, Dirk throws Jane to the couch. Before she can react, he straddles and positions himself over the strap. He pushes his palms into the flesh of her upper arms. Jane lets out a soft, pained whine as he applies pressure to lower himself. He hisses and gives a shuddering breath as he takes down the full length a gradual but smooth motion. He stays at the base to adjust while he digs his fingers into Jane’s arms.

“I expect better from you”, Dirk scoffs. “You’ve completely lost your thrusting privileges, let me show you how it’s done.”

Dirk begins to move at a pace that suits him. Jane’s hips shudder up involuntarily. He slams back down on them sharply. She moans and flinches her head.

“Don’t. Move”, he hisses, leaning closer to her face. Jane begins to stutter. She’s barely had a moment to process. He lets go of one of her arms and grabs her jaw, forcing her to look up at him. “Don’t talk either. Look at me. We’ve been over this. I instruct, you follow. Nod if you understand.”

Jane nods and bites her bottom lip to keep herself from talking back. Dirk lets go of her other arm and braces himself against the back of the couch. He fucks himself hard, breathing heavy over her face.

“Good. Glad to see that you can still be reasoned with. Now, listen to me, I expected so much better of you when I agreed to teach you how to do this but let’s give you one more chance. Can you feel the pace at which I’m going at? See how the strokes are evenly timed and have an even distribution of force and speed? It’s not even that hard.”

Dirk straightens up and back. He removes his hand from the couch and begins to stroke himself. His hand moves from Jane’s jaw to her hair, tilting her head so that her eyeline is level with his cock. She tries to look anywhere but.

“Are you watching? I know you are because I’m literally making you do it. I want you to remember how this feels. The pace, the force when my hips meet yours, and the depth. Really etch it into your brain so the next time I ask you to do this- And there will be a next time because I ain’t no quitter- You know what you’re doing. You can do that, right? You do everything else I tell you to so well, it’s hard to believe you can run for president but not know how to fuck a guy.“

His pace starts to become uneven and choppy.

“Come on, tell me you understand what I’m telling you.”

“I… understand”, Jane’s voice strains and wavers.

“Good. Tell me what you’re going to remember to do next time I let you fuck me.”

“...How to do it right.”

“And there will be next time. I’m counting on you, Crocker.”

Dirk’s own voice begins to waver ever so slightly before he slams himself down one last time to finish, being sure to aim the trajectory of his load to her face. It splatters over her glasses, leaving a small trace of fog around the edges. Dirk lets go of Jane’s hair, removes himself from the toy, and sits back onto the couch between Jane's calves. They sit for a moment looking at each other with mutual respect before Jane sits up, taking off her glasses.

“It's incredible. I have no idea how you’re so good at that each and every time”, Jane says while grabbing a tissue box from the side table. She passes the box to Dirk.