In the first year of our marriage, on my new hubby’s birthday, as we undressed for bed after a fun night out, he asked me for a special present – anal sex. I’d never done it before but he was very persuasive and, as a token of my love, I finally and reluctantly agreed. It turned out to be quite enjoyable, though I let Phil think it was a major sacrifice. He was so grateful afterwards – kind of pathetic really – telling me it was a long held fantasy and that it was every bit as good as he’d always imagined. And he was all solicitous, worrying that he’d hurt me (I gave him a martyred look) and assuring me that I’d be OK in no time.
Since then, I’ve given him this ‘special present’ on each birthday, each anniversary of our wedding, at Christmas, and as a reward when he’s gotten a promotion at work or spent a lot of money on his deserving wife. It’s turned out to be quite an incentive for him and, seeing how eager he always is, I like to play him along a little (well, rather a lot really). Once he knows he’s in for a treat, and I’ve got him all boned up and eager, he’s quite willing to oil and massage me (to get me in the mood to sacrifice myself to his fetish), lick my butt and even rim me (to loosen me up for his unnatural and brutal assault). I’ve grown to really enjoy anal sex but part of that enjoyment is letting Phil think it is a dutiful chore I endure for his pleasure.
Generally I try and hold him off for as long as possible. I get him to lick my pussy till I have at least one orgasm, telling him that I’ve got to have some pleasure before he batters my poor rectum. Then it’s a bit more oral attention, this time on my pucker, while I finger myself and maybe cum again. Phil understands that it is necessary for me to feel sexy about his attentions to my bottom and if I ooohh and aaahh and tell him to stick his tongue deep inside my pooper, he doesn’t hesitate to oblige, thinking it is all in a good cause (though I also think he gets a kick out of it ‘cos I see his dick throb as his tongue worms in through my chocky starfish).
Finally, after at least half an hour of this kind of foreplay, he asks if I’m ready. Usually I am, but make him massage me again or rim me more. Then, once impatience gets the better of me, I tell him to get the KY. He makes like a bullet for the dresser, fumbles in the drawer, then returns with the tube. I remind him to get it warm and he frantically rubs it between his palms, looks at me imploringly then, when I nod permission, squeezes some out and works it around my crack. I get him to use first one, then two fingers to loosen my sphincter, drawing out this process as well. I like having my shitter fingered, but make out that the invasion is hard to bear, gritting my teeth and gasping. Phil is always gentle, the dear man, kissing my back and whispering soothingly as his fingers probe and twist delightfully in my butt.