The brain really is an amazing (crazy, silly, bizarre) thing. Close to a couple of months ago now, I posted a blog post entitled Is it BDSM or is it abuse?, in which I shared my personal story of sexual abuse. Potentially the most traumatising aspect of my period of abuse, was the fact I was anally raped on more than one occasion.
It makes sense that because of this, the thought of anal sex was enough to make me feel sick and to send me into a depressive cycle. Reliving the experience would bring me to tears, it would make me shake, it would set off a full blown anxiety attack. Anal sex. The thought of it disgusted me and whenever I saw mention of anal being pleasurable I would frown, scoff and shake my head. Pleasurable? No-fucking-way.
I met my wife and told her what had happened to me when I was 20, for the first time in my life I was actually able to talk about it in person, with someone who actually cared about me, and was more than willing to listen to what I had to say. It felt good to be able to get it out of my system, to be able to release some of the pressure I was feeling inside my head, pressure that had built up over years of keeping my mouth shut and keeping it all inside.
Fast forward to a couple of months ago. I was in bed with my wonderful wifey, we were fooling around… I started to get carried away by the way she was making me feel (y’know, about a second away from screaming so loudly the neighbours would possibly ring the cops) and suddenly in my little pre-orgasmic fantasy I was having anal sex.
What. The. Fuck?
I didn’t tell her straight away. In fact, I planned on not telling her because I felt embarrassed and even a little ashamed. After all the trauma I had been through, there I was, getting off on the idea of having anal sex. It just didn’t compute.
I couldn’t stop thinking about it though, and suddenly became very curious about anal sex. Surely if so many people could vouch for it being pleasurable, well… maybe it could be? A couple of days later we were in bed talking, and for whatever reason the discussion turned to anal sex… I likely mentioned not understanding how it could be pleasurable, and she told me that in her experiences it had indeed felt good. I believe it was then that I admitted my curiosity to her… and told her I felt like I had been short changed, because what could potentially have been a pleasurable experience had been ruined for me because of one bastard of an ex.
We continued talking and I truly don’t remember how we got there, but she suggested I could write a m/f/m threesome scene with double penetration… y’know, it could be a kind of therapeutic way to ‘experience’ anal sex in a controlled environment, where I was in charge. It made sense to me, and I decided to go for it. I researched a little, I spoke more to my wife about her experiences, and then I was ready to write. But I had no idea what positions to put my characters in…
So we watched porn for inspiration. Most of our time was spent laughing at how fake it was, rolling our eyes because of the cliché nature of the storylines… but then there was a scene or two that caught my eye, and after watching rather than feeling repulsed, I felt… well, quite the opposite.
After this night my curiosity grew and after writing my scene (and having a bloody good time doing so), I really started to feel pissed off that I would never experience anal as something pleasurable. During one of our many discussions in bed, I eventually confessed this to my wife… and I don’t remember a lot about it, but eventually we decided perhaps it was something we could explore further together. I still felt embarrassed, but my curiosity started to outweigh my embarrassment… and one day while relaxing in bed things got a little heated. There was touching.
Touching like I had never given or received before. It was relaxed and slow, and more than enough to make me realise I wanted to explore even further, at some point. Okay, it felt amazing when she was touching me, and I was amazed that being touched there could bring me so much pleasure. Equally I was surprised when I was touching her, that she got just as turned on as if I was touching her clit. We didn’t even go ‘all the way’, there was just finger pressure, no insertion… I knew I wanted to go further at some stage, but that there was no rush.
It finally happened this week. A month, maybe a bit more after that first little bit of touching I got up the guts to tell my wife my curiosity was getting too much for me and that I wanted to explore further.
I have never ever felt so shy in my life as I felt telling my wife I wanted to put my finger inside her ass. I had no idea how to go about it, hell, I didn’t even know what to do with the lube… just the finger? the butthole too? Was our strawberry lube okay, or should we use that other tube of lube we were given (neither have been used before, both were gifts!)?
Eventually we got there. I did something to my wife that I never in a million years imagined I would do to her. More to the point, it was something I never imagined wanting to do. But I did. And I enjoyed it 100% more than I thought I would. She didn’t ask me to stop, she didn’t say it wasn’t working for her… and when I made her orgasm, it was possibly the most proud I have ever felt of any orgasm I have given her! Can one be proud of an orgasm?
I think I felt ‘proud’ of the orgasm, because for me, it was symbolic of me overcoming something that had been incredibly traumatic, and had had a hugely negative impact on my life. Afterward I couldn’t stop grinning, hell, I even giggled for a while. My wife looked amused and asked why I appeared so happy, and I told her it was because I had replaced a horrible, terrifying memory, with a pleasurable, happy memory. It was like I was saying to my ex ‘you no longer have any control over me, or this aspect of my sexuality’.
I don’t know what will happen next, or when it will happen… all I know is that I feel so incredibly lucky to have such a special woman in my life, who has helped me to heal when I didn’t think it would ever be remotely possible.