It’s not easy to miss it.
Face it, not only does it have the size that makes it unmissable, but it’s also of a hue that could rival the sun in brightness, and moon in reflective ability.
I’m also quite attached to it. We’ve been through a lot, my ass and me. It means a lot to me, and I care deeply about its welfare.
The first person to ever break the barrier of “ass-fucking? are you crazy?!” convinced me that what I perceived as a completely unnecessary intrusion into a Place Where None Had Gone Before was in fact a somewhat strangely enjoyable experience.
I’d told him that I’d tried it once, and it hurt so badly, and that even though I’d tried it once or twice since, I hadn’t been able to make it past the pain.
His reply had been reassuring and indicative that he knew of what he spoke. “The key is to relax,” he said. “There’s no obligation on your part, if you’re not comfortable or happy, it just won’t happen. You have to trust me. I know what I’m doing. It’s all about technique, arousal and trust.”
Fortunately, I did trust him. And it was indeed strangely enjoyable.
Tip: Never let anyone you don’t trust anywhere near your bared rear end with a penis. Recipe for disaster. Trust me.
All went swimmingly for a few years, where I enjoyed occasional anal penetration with relish and enthusiasm.
Then — disaster. Suddenly, it seemed that no one knew one end of their dick from a hole in the ground. The world suddenly seemed devoid of people in whom I could place my trust, and it transpired that those in whom I did, were unworthy. Big time.
Time after time the joyful and strangely enjoyable experience that I had come to know and love was replaced by an horrific and deeply uncomfortable pain fest. And not good pain, either. Pain of the “Ow, ow, fuck! OW!” variety.
It’s been a while. A good few years of “hell, no, never again.”
Then I met you, and I realised that I should never say never.
In other words — you are cordially invited to take my ass.