I wasn't the first person to get my cock inside my wife's arse. No, by the time I got my hands on it it had been well trained to pucker in anticipation and ease around an incoming object.
Let me introduce my wife's anus. My wife has a full round arse, in contrast to her slim body and humble little udders. Her sphincter is hidden in the tight valley of her arse cheeks so that, in all cases except for when she is, say, squatting, you have to manual prize her cheeks apart to get at it. She has a thin trail of long, dark-brown pubic growth from her pelt-like cunt, along her perineum to her anus so that in the midst of that pale flesh there are a few lone, long sleek hairs. Her anus is not as dark as others I have seen - rich brown or dark pink. It's tone is a pale, softer pink than the skin around it. It has the usual wrinkles leading down into its warm dark depths, and when she allows it to open the sphincter parts to reveal the rich red cushion of her bowels, ready to lick at a finger, or a cock, or whatever else it is eager to take in.
When my wife was a teenager her arse got very little attention. An early boyfriend used to graze a finger along it now and then, on his way from holding her arse to a grope of her pussy. When she wasn't looking he'd sniff his finger to get a whiff of that forbidden, primal odour.
In her wilder early twenties she got pissed in a nightclub and went home with some neanderthal who became her abusive boyfriend. On that first night, in the fully-lit lounge-room of a strange apartment, she was introduced to the brutality and excitement that anal sex so often involves. He was groping her, both fully clothed, from behind - one hand massaging a tit and the other cupping her crotch. Suddenly, both hands were under her skirt and through the elastic of her g-string. He forced those unsubstantial undies to the floor in one swift motion and, using his body weight, pushed her forward to lay splayed on the floor. Skirt thrown up over her arse, legs wrenched apart, two fingers holding her cheeks open, that horny beast was the first human to make a full and leisurely inspection of my wife's arse-hole. What a sight it would have been, too. Tight young thighs spread wide, aluring bush of hair and protruding pussy lips grinding against the floor (she probably kept her bush a bit more trimmed back then), and that little pink eye staring, unblinking, up at him - unused to so much light - "Who are you? What are you going to do to me?". She would have had her head turned to the side, eyes closed, breathing heavily, still pissed, and high on the danger and thrill, every nerve attentive for the slightest touch. "He's looking right at my anus. I'm such a slut. What a whore I've turned out to be. What would dad think if he knew I was letting a stranger stare are my arsehole?".
And then his hands were on her hips, lifting the flesh of her arse cheeks up and apart, and pinning her to the floor, and she yelped in surprise and uncontrolled pleasure as he licked from her perineum across her still-stinky hole and up her arse cheek. After a few more licks he made a spear of his tongue and worked it into her anus, forcing it to relent despite it's surprise and defensiveness, to yield.
So picture it, here was my wife, prostrate, offering her sex organs to a misogynistic looser, and him kneeling behind her victoriously, taking her anal virginity with his tongue.
Soon enough he had a few fingers ramming in and out of her slurpy cunt, and thats how she came. Ever since that day, although she can come without anal-play, it is a sure-fire way to get her orgasming in no time.
To the best of my knowledge, anal sex was a regular part of her repertoire from that time onwards. If a partner was too shy or uncreative to initiate it himself, she would subtly guide a hand there, or shift her body to bring a cock-head up to her anus, or wag her arse in the air at him until he had no choice but to deal with it. I'm not sure if she ever used sex-aides like anal beads or a plug, but it wouldn't surprise me.
One story that is worth mentioning, from just before I met her, happened when she was watching a band, pressed against the stage at the front of the crowd. Some women melt instantly in response to having their ears nibbled, or their neck stroked, or the small of their back. One sure way to get my wife's pussy warmed up is to gently touch her arse cheeks, preferably lightly stroking up, with fingers or a tongue, from the fold where her arse meets her thighs, up to the top of her arse.
In the press of the crown, she didn't notice at first that there was an outspread hand on her left arse-cheek. When it didn't move she half turned her neck, but saw only faces staring intently at the band. The fingers moved slowly, maddeningly, to cup her cheek through her dress. Already the bolts of electricity were coursing through her. When they began to gently scratch, with smooth fingernails, against the lowest cleft of her arse cheek, just an inch from her crack, she exhaled sharply and almost buckled that the knees.
She was going out with somebody at the time - a gently and soft-spoken guy whom I am friends with today. I don't know where he was during all of this. My wife is a faithful person - she would have felt terrible about allowing someone other than her partner to use her body - but at another level she is also a pervert and, lets face it, a slave to sensations aroused by certain types of touch.
When she looked around again she saw a tall man looking directly at her from over her shoulder. His cold, unfeeling stare was in keeping with his hard jaw-line, his close-cropped hair, his old acne-scars, and - was that a scar on his upper lip? All in all, the impression of an ex-prisoner. By no means attractive. As I have already said, my wife is slim, petite. She is very cute - sort of pixie-like. She was a waif compared to this man.
