Anal sex is a topic I have done to death here before. If you’ve been reading for longer than a few weeks, you know that it’s one of my favourite things. The tightness of it, the promise of something deliciously taboo, the way he’ll whisper ‘good girl’ in my ear as I wriggle back onto his cock… unngh.
Thing is I’m not always great at anal sex. Usually the start of a good fuck in the ass is a fifty/fifty gamble. I might get relaxed and excited, as he holds the tip of his dick right up against me, and feel like it’s easy as hell to push back onto him. I might, on the other hand, get nervous that it’ll slip in too quickly, and the thickness of it will make me tense up.
When people ask about anal sex – or write those Top Ten Tips On How To Get It In Properly – the main tip they give is: use lube. Lots of lube. So much lube that you worry you’re going to cause a bedroom oil slick. Drown yourselves in lube. Gallons and gallons, until sex toy companies announce a shortage and scientists start researching whether friction is finite.
That’s true, of course, and it’s a good tip. In my opinion, water-based lube is better, but that might just be because of the selection of bottles I have by the side of my bed, the water-based one is the biggest so it’s the easiest to grab in a sticky moment.
But my better tip for great anal sex (at the moment, at least – these things change depending on my mood and my body and the time of day) has less to do with lube and everything to do with angle and control…
Hot anal sex
We’re in bed and he’s lying behind me, spooning – cock rock solid and squeezed between my thighs. Not my thighs, really, my cheeks. Right at the top. Thrusting through, the head of his dick splits my cunt and touches my clit, and the slickness starts to cover it.
He grips me, one big hand squeezing my arse, and crushing me tighter onto him. Fucking slowly, lazily. Like he’s just testing how much pleasure he can get with no penetration. Just a languid rhythm with his dick and his hands squeezing me tighter.
“Get the lube.”
And he rubs it not just all over his dick but all over me too – slick handfuls of it over my cheeks, thighs, and into the folds of my cunt.
We fuck a bit faster. Still not going in, just rubbing against each other in the way that feels best.
“Can you come like this?”
“Do you want to?”
And this is the good part – this is the part I like. When I’m relaxed and so horny for it that I can slide him in easily. I pull my knees up towards my chest, brace my hands against the bedposts, and settle myself neatly onto his prick. The head of it teasing the entrance to my ass, gently pulsing. Waiting. He’s got one arm round my neck and the other – slippery and firm – on my arse. Waiting.
I slide back, ever-so-gently. Just enough that I can feel the head push against me. Not quite in yet. I push back further and he moans.
And I slide back further, at which point he starts to fuck. It’s still not quite in. I’m holding back slightly – whimpering into the pillow with the effort of it: that delicious combination of desire and uncertainty. He fucks me with quick, gentle strokes, never going further in than I’ve already pushed myself. Giving me just a taster of what I really want, which is his cock, fat and hard and twitching, fucking me hard right up to the hilt.
At this angle I have as much control as I want, so the challenge is in deciding just how far I want to push it.
And of course I want to push it. Knees tucked tighter to my chest, hands gripping the bars at the head of the bed, I grit my teeth, cry into the pillow, and push back until I have every inch of him inside me.
He fucks me harder until his breath is ragged, and his dick tightens inside me ready for the moment when he comes. A second before it happens, when the final few hard thrusts begin, I grip the bars harder with my now-trembling hands, and ask him if I’m good.
“Good?” he replies, as he pumps spunk deep inside me. “You’re a fucking angel.”
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