My Wife "Pegged" Me ... and I Liked It
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Almost two years ago, Nicole Rodgers of Role/Reboot linked to an article in Salon about “pegging” (female-on-male anal sex) with the wicked title of “Bringing Up the Rear.” Nicole’s synopsis of the article observed, “If this is not an example of the changing roles and expectations of men and women, I'm not sure what is.” Count me as agreeing, strongly.
I grew up rather sheltered sexually. My wife Kathi too. By the time we met, I was slightly more experienced than her. The first time we had intercourse, the look on her face said it all—a mixture of fear, trust, love, shame. She was a bit traumatized and confused but in the end very proud and satisfied.
We were married two years later and our relationship was very satisfying. Kathi and I began to overcome all of the inhibitions that had been put into us all those years. We had what we thought was a successful marriage, complete with four kids. On the career side, Kathi became much more confident and assertive.
Things changed in bed too. Kathi became more assertive and more willing to have a good time. Years ago she would giggle or cringe at an attempt to give her oral sex. Now she loves it.
So, several years ago, she first brought up the idea of anal. She'd been to a bachelorette party and one of the women said she'd been doing it with her husband and it was great. I was, to put it mildly, petrified. Visions of "being gay" ran through my head. She assured me I wasn't, but I tried to let the topic die. She wouldn't. She brought it up the next morning and eventually we made a date for the next day to meet for lunch and then go to a sex-toy store.
We went, we looked, and I was surprised at how many pegging toys there were. We both laughed and I found myself going along with things, retreating from a "no way" attitude to one in which I was saying, "but that's way too big." Eventually we settled for a harness with a dildo on the small side but still long and wide enough to do its damage.
We eventually decided to do the deed the on Saturday. The kids safely over at a sitter’s, we took our clothes off and kissed, and then took an erotic shower. Now we were ready. She looked at me. "Ready?" "Yeah. I can't believe we're doing this." I went over to the bed to lie down. She went over to a closet and finally reappeared, fully harnessed. I must have gasped. The sight of that missile protruding from her, meant for me, brought everything home. This was real. I was about to get fucked. She smiled, sensing my apprehension. "Don't worry," she said, "there's' nothing to be afraid of." She lay on top of me, pushed the tip of the dildo to my face and asked me to lube it up, putting on as much as I wanted. I did, thoroughly. Then she got up, walked over to the stereo, cranked it up really loud, and came back into bed.
We'd talked about this moment and I remembered the rules. Be calm. Resist the urge to tighten up. It will fit fine. "OK, babe," she said, "all ready." On my back, I spread my legs as wide apart as I could and lifted my bottom up. She looked at me and the next thing I felt was a plastic, sticky object rubbing up against my inner thigh and balls. In hindsight, this was funny: Kathi was a total amateur with the harness and dildo. But at the time I tensed up. "It's never gonna work if you're so uptight," she said, "just relax." I tried to. She guided the head with her hand and the next thing I felt was the tip touching my anus. Then, slowly, it began to enter. I tensed up and felt horrible. She withdrew, quietly applied a bit more lube, and returned it to just outside my anus. "Try again," she said, "trust me." I did. I put my arms back and got lost in the music, which was pounding and loud. The pushing returned but this time I did not resist. Slowly, slowly, the dildo pressed in and then all of a sudden it just slid forward. I moaned and gasped, "Ohmygod." "Mmmm," she said, "Here's some more." With that, she pushed in even further. Another "Ohmygod" from me. Then the thrusting began. "Keep with me," she said. I did, mimicking what she'd done for me hundreds of times before—bucking my hips in rhythm to meet her thrusts. I couldn't believe it.