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My Wife "Pegged" Me ... and I Liked It

I grew up sheltered sexually. So how -- and why -- did my wife and I experiment with female on male anal sex?

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Then she slowed down, stopped bucking, and begin to maneuver the dildo deeper inside me. But she wasn't done yet. Back to bucking. This time with greater force. Then slowing down. I was totally drained, and yet I did my best to keep up with her. Her moves were smooth and not too fast. I met them again. What an odd sensation. It was so impersonal. It was as though my private parts were just there to be used by her. She lay atop me, eyes half glazed, staring into space or at the wall or something, but not at me. After some time, she again stopped, looked down, kissed me, and put her head on my shoulder. Unbelievably, I felt the shaft probe deeper. After a few more thrusts, she withdrew with a "pop" sound.

I was laying on my back, in a daze. I hadn't had an orgasm despite her repeated tries to hit my prostate. Oh well. I proceeded to give her oral sex. It was a relief to be back in a more typical situation, one that probably lasted longer than the screwing I had just received and at least produced orgasms on her part.

We lay holding each other for quite a while. Then, I was shocked when she put the harness back on. "Oh no," I said, or something like it. "Just once more," she replied. I assumed the position, but she asked me to turn over and get on my knees. We were going to do it doggie-style. I acquiesced, and quickly felt her hands holding my butt and then the dildo pressing up against its target. It zoomed in, I gasped, and then it began probing. Again. And again. Finally, she hit the spot, I moaned, got hard and came, very intensely. Mercifully, she withdrew and we lay next to each other and cuddled. It was over.

We said nothing for a while, just holding each other tightly. Kathi hadn't removed the harness, so the dildo was still on her, pressed up against my stomach, a silent reminder of all that had just happened. And what had just happened? The physical act had been one thing, and a weird one at that. But the psychological effects were just beginning to waft in.

All my life I had been the penetrator and even when the woman was aggressive, there was no doubt as to who was doing what to whom. But now, as the one being penetrated, I was on the other side. She'd gotten me to give it up. She'd probed, thrusted, and done any manner of other things, all of her own urging and without much regard as to what I wanted. She had been cool, under control, self-assured, while I'd been emotional, afraid, out of control. And yet, I'd experienced a great orgasm. That was a real trip. My mind had reeled at the experience; and my body had enjoyed almost every second of it. Even the pain (and there was pain) was rewarded in the end by pleasure.

I told her all these things. She told me how she loved being in charge for a change and how great it felt to be able to control me, as opposed to usually being under my control. She said that what really surprised her was how protective she became of me when she realized that I was now vulnerable to her. (Yeah, I thought sarcastically, you really acted protectively.) She said that she felt like she'd conquered me but at the same time wanted to make sure that I was OK. She also said, mimicking a cornerstone on which patriarchy is based, that she felt surprised at how easily I'd let her do what she was doing. I nodded. I was surprised by that too, but a little angry that that was how she felt. After all, I'd just done what she wanted me to.

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