Prologue

The most commonly clicked tag on this blog is “anal”. Why is that? Not because it comes first alphabetically. It doesn’t. So why? I have two theories. The first is that people are just curious. Who isn’t curious? I am. Who’s doing it, do they like it, how can I get my partner to do it, how can I get my partner to like it. Probably not by bombarding them with how everybody else seems to be doing it and possibly liking it. But what do I know. My second theory is less charitable than the first. So I won’t go there.

If you click on the “anal” tag, there is not much to see. Until a few nights ago, River and I had done one anal experiment. But even though this blog chronicles everything else, all it says about that night is, “We both agree. That was a fucking amazing date.”

And it was. I’ve re-read what I wrote about it. And the whole thing was fucking amazing. To me, anyway. It may be time to publish that particular piece of history. Or it may not. Somehow, the thought of hanging it out there and piquing the prurient interest of a crowd of “anal”-clicking lurkers and drive-by readers and people googling words they can’t even spell correctly just doesn’t make me feel right. Even though it was a fucking amazing date.

So I’m testing the waters here to see how I feel about it.

River knows I’ve been anal-curious forever. She made a video for me long ago. With a dildo. I can still picture it. “I know you’re curious about this. Do I dare?” And she slips it up her ass. But she won’t do it with me. “I would like to have anal sex with you,” I whisper during at least one intimate conversation. But she makes it clear that it’s off limits. Not because she’s had bad experiences. She hasn’t, and I’m glad for that. Neither of us has any experiences. And I’m glad for that, too. But I wish she’d experimented with me, instead of with a dildo. I am envious.

I’ve done my own experiments. River knows this, too. I borrowed her dildo. She knows where it’s been. I learned a lot. Learned about relaxing. Learned about going slow on the way in, and the way out. Learned how much I can take. Learned that for me it was the small movements that were nicest. And the naughty sensation of taking something as deep as I can.

We’ve slipped fingers into each other, once, while she was on top in reverse cowgirl. Occasionally I finger the outside of her butthole. Maybe push in a bit. And it turns me on. At best, she doesn’t mind. But she doesn’t consider it a sexual part of her. It's an unhygienic portal for elimination.

River worries that her butt will become her new vagina for me if we do it. I don’t think so. I love fucking her in the pussy. It’s built for it. It feels great, physically and emotionally. It’s got limitless possibilities. We’re a nice fit. It can take all kinds of abuse. “It might be something we do a couple times a year. If we like it.”

Then one day we’re having an intimate conversation. “Happy birthday. We can try it some time. When things are clean. And we feel like it.” Many months later things are clean. And we feel like it. Cunnilingus to start. River orgasms. We fuck before and after. We use a condom. And lube. I’m glad I experimented on myself. I take it slow on the way in. Hope she’s relaxed. Ask how it’s going. Some small movements while she gets used to it. Or tries to. Since this might be the last time we ever do it, I take the opportunity to push in as far as I can. It keeps going, and going, until she’s taking it all the way. I’m pleasantly surprised. I hope she can say the same. When it’s time to pull out, I take it easy, going slow, letting her close gently as the head slides out.

“How was that?” “Confusing.” “Would you do it again?” “Yes.”